'Damn right you do,' he murmurs, the smile evident in his voice.

He makes no move towards the coffee. Doesn't do a thing but eat his breakfast until her back's turned again and she's halfway through another batch. And then he gets up silently, bottle of sauce caught lazily in his fingers, walking up behind her.

'Mind you don't burn them,' he says quietly, a finger pulling the kimono back down her shoulder a little. 'I don't like burnt pancakes.'

Just a trickle of sauce. Just a line. But he takes his time licking it up, more excited by the tang of her skin that the stuff itself.