In which Alice and Gilbert learn to share and Break is their mediator. Oneshot.

sweet boundaries

"You can't put your foot there, stupid rabbit! That's mine!"

"Ehh? Exactly where is your name on it then, seaweed-head?"

"Alice, Gil, please stop! I can't take it anymore!"

The sharp rapping of a cane against the polished floor disrupts the cacophony of rising voices. Three gasps sound; three blushes appear.

"Seaweed-head, I thought you locked the door!"

"I did!" Gilbert stutters, staring nonplussed at the white-clad man before him.

"Break, my savior!" Oz cries dramatically. "They're fighting again!"

Break laughs, his sleeved hand held daintily to his mouth. "Oz-kun, as it happens I managed to come up with a most ingenious solution for their bickering. After all, you three seem to get noisier every time this happens, and the lady has requested that you tone down the… ah… screaming."

"I—it… don't say it like that!" the blond boy mutters, turning a delicious shade of scarlet. Break is most amused.

"Oz-kun, rest assured! Alice-kun, Gilbert-kun, watch me closely." He proceeds to pull out a jar of raspberry jam from underneath his coat. Slowly he twists the lid open and dips a finger in jam before tracing a red line of the preservative down the coveted object. "Alice-kun gets the left half. Gilbert-kun gets the right. What do you think of my proposition?"

Alice huffs. "I don't want to share with seaweed-head. I should go first and he can have his turn later. Or never."

"But Alice-kun, sharing is a fundamental skill in life!" Break teases, wagging a finger.

"Or maybe she's really too stupid to understand!" Emily chirps.

"What was that?" Break jumps cleanly away from her with a giggle. "Fine. You want to see me share with seaweed-head? I will, since the Great Alice-sama is a generous and merciful—hey, seaweed-head, no one told you you could start already!"

"It's your fault for being slow," Gilbert gasps.

"Waaaauugh!" Oz cries.

"Stupid rabbit, you're not supposed to bite it!"

"What are you talking about? Should I get Sharon to educate you?"

"What're you talking ab—stop touching that, it's on my side!"

Above their voices, Oz manages to call out, "Break, get them to stop!"

"What?" Alice rears back for a second, staring at something with a devious grin. "There's no line there! That means I get dibs!"

"Oh my, oh my," Break grins, "it looks like the jam has come off a bit." He saunters forward and dips a finger in the preservative again, painting a straight line at a torturously slow pace to bridge the gap in the boundary—until someone's hand collides with his and causes the jam to be smeared way off target.

He titters. "Alice-kun, Gilbert-kun, I don't know which of you is to blame for this, but it absolutely won't do." And he swoops down to clean up the errant curve of raspberry sweetness with his tongue.

"Not you too, Break!" Oz moans, while Alice repeatedly whacks him on the head and screams about property rights.

Break finishes and withdraws after slicking more jam to fill in the line from the middle of Oz's forehead down past his belly, leaving Alice and Gilbert to fight over the boy's naked body where it is chained to the bedposts.

"Watch it, you stupid rabbit, that's practically on my side!" Gilbert mutters, clinging to Oz's right thigh.

Alice doesn't even spare the black-haired boy a glance as she gives Oz's belly button an experimental lick, smirking when her servant shivers. "Fine. You can have both sides of his nose then."

"Why would I want that? Let me have his whole mouth instead."

"Are you crazy? Just stick to your side, seaweed-head."

Oz, between them, doesn't seem to know whether to gasp in pleasure, feebly protest against his two friends, or send death glares at the fourth person in the room.

And Break leans back against a nearby coffee table to watch them, leisurely licking up a dipped finger of jam. Sharing is, as he predicted, always the best solution.