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juicedguava2024-09-17 05:21 pm
g_uava) wrote in juicedguava2024-09-17 05:21 pm
📗📃 Crush Gear Turbo | Santé
SFW | 2K+ words | Marume Claude/Jin Kyousuke
Better for Kyousuke to have the important talk with his dad, about him dating Claude, while he was still living at home and before moving to a new city for university. Some questions which arose during their talk, Kyousuke had foreseen – yes, he liked Claude, as a man. Yes, it was serious. Whether Kyousuke was gay, he was still figuring it out.
His dad's advice was to keep thinking about his romantic preferences. Their conversation seemed to have come to a natural end on that slow afternoon at the factory. No pesky drama lied in wait for Kyousuke, which he had braced himself for, even if it had long become habit for Jin Kousuke to shrug off his son's quirks.
But Kyousuke remained wary that a middle-aged man brought up in the boonies would have some ingrained prejudices. His dad’s background was a far cry from that of Claude's parents, who alternated between being honorary Europeans and being citizens of the world.
On Claude's end, he told his mom and dad right after finishing the university entrance exams. All clear for his side too, except that like Kyousuke's dad, Claude's parents left him with rather meaty food for thought – what Claude's future plans were for starting a family and raising children, if he stuck it out with Kyousuke.
Even a light mental poke at that issue hurt Kyousuke's head.
He had said to Claude, "We can always think about that once our age no longer start with 'ten'."
"Sure," Claude had replied. "We have up until there's a 'five' in front of the 'ten' for our years on earth."
In other words, when they were fifty years old.
Why did Claude choose that age? Wasn't it twenty years short of the typical life expectancy? Did he think they were going to die young or –
"Your friend…I mean, boyfriend, hasn't visited our home, has he?"
Kyousuke yanked his thoughts back to the present to answer his dad. "No."
"How about inviting him to eat dinner with us?"
"…Only if you order sushi."
"Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?"
**
Neither Kyousuke nor Claude had ever actually seen where each other lived. Not once since they first met, more than half a decade ago.
They were always together at the same old places. First Team Griffon's training space, then Tobita Club. Other familiar spots included Kyousuke's workshop at his dad’s factory and Jirou's house for overnight strategy meetings. Also scenic routes along the waterfront where they walked and talked near the hour of sunset, getting some fresh air while Kyousuke pretended he was only looking at the stirring of Claude's blond hair by the sea breeze to distract himself from the weariness in his legs.
Kyousuke did know about other important locations in Claude’s life: the dojo where Claude would put aside Gear Fighting for his kendo training, and his massive home that resembled the famous Manganji residence just around the corner. These places seemed full of signs that Kyousuke had best keep clear of — warning signs that spelled a more final separation for him and Claude, for Claude seemed to live in a different world where he might grow indifferent to Kyousuke and Crush Gear.
As for Kyousuke’s own home, the apartment that he shared with his dad, nothing stored there seemed troubling for Claude to stumble on. It was just where Kyousuke ate, slept, showered and did what he had to do to appear as a decent member of society anywhere outside of his workshop and Tobita Club -- Kyousuke's actual homes.
To the drab living area where the Jin family resided, Claude's arrival brought some colour. That tended to happen wherever Claude went, sweeping his green eyes over his surroundings, taking every sound into his pale ears and shedding the same strands of yellow hair found on the floor of Kyousuke's workshop when he bothered to sweep it.
Kyousuke’s dad started off polite, especially since Claude was slightly taller than him and had on a crisp white dress shirt that looked more expensive than anything he had in his closet. Then he turned rapturous on discovering the gift that Claude had brought.
"Lagavulin 16! The burnt tears of an angel!"
The bottle of amber liquid was courtesy of Claude's dad, who according to Claude, imported foreign liquor as one of his businesses.
Kyousuke's dad whistled. "I'm in a similar line as well. Except the fumes I breathe in are from machine oils, which while toxic, at least won't lead me down the path of alcoholism and bankruptcy."
Right on cue, Claude delivered a polite laugh.
As Kyousuke poured cold water for everyone, his dad got a clean glass to sample his new whisky.
Once he poured in a finger, he turned to Claude and asked, "Would you also like to drink some?"
"Can I?" Claude said.
"Wait...you're Kyousuke's age, right?"
Kyousuke stood behind Claude to hide how he had to hold in a groan.
"That's right," Claude replied. "I'm eight months older than Kyousuke."
"Right, right...the thing is, Kyousuke hasn't got any taller since junior high, so you two seemed more like eight years apart!"
Against Claude's back, Kyousuke thumped his forehead.
**
The sushi did not let Kyousuke down. Whether the whisky complemented it, or whether it lived up to the high praises his dad sung of it, Kyousuke couldn’t say.
Being small, it should come as no surprise that he was a weak drinker, as he discovered in his first forays into trying to like liquor. Not that he cared as he disliked the taste of alcohol anyway.
Unlike him, Claude had his first glass of wine before he got his Shooting Mirage in France. More than one family vacation in his teen years was spent drinking more beer than water. According to him, he and his fully Japanese dad had a tradition of sharing a bottle from the vineyard near the village where Claude grew up while practising French conversation.
After hearing Claude’s stories about drinking with family friends of various nationalities, Kyousuke’s dad asked, “What’s your favourite drinking toast?”
“Santé,” Claude replied. “That’s French for ‘to your health’.”
“To your health!” Kyousuke’s dad raised his glass of whisky. “Better live a long life so I won’t have to go back to worrying about Kyousuke dying alone.”
As Claude turned towards Kyousuke, Kyousuke crammed into his mouth another tamago sushi to gnash on along with a piece of half-chewed sashimi.
**
Alone in his room, having retreated there once he had eaten his fill, Kyousuke tried to guess the embarrassing stories his dad was telling Claude. They were still seated at the dining table and chatting over a second glass of the whisky from Claude's dad. The last Kyousuke heard was them talking about sake and other kinds of Japanese liquor -- a conversation to which Kyousuke had nothing to contribute.
He had his bed sheets to change, for Claude was also sleeping over. Much thought was put into extending the dinner invitation to get Claude to stay longer, and whether Claude would read anything into it, which turned out to be no big deal with Claude's casual agreement to stay the night.
Kyousuke imagined they'd be doing that more in university. Having sleepovers that weren't part of tournament trips or strategy meetings with their friends, that is. It wouldn't hurt to get started in their hometown, even if doing anything more than just sleeping might get dicey with Kyousuke's dad under the same roof.
While straightening everything out and separating junk from anything remotely valuable, Kyousuke revealed hidden under some Crush Gear model brochures a fist-sized brown stain. It didn't smell and was at least located in an inconspicuous corner where he would lay his feet. Still, he resolved to put in the extra effort to turn his bedroom clean and neat, as befitting the special occasion and as Claude would prefer him to.
He only had two sets of sheets for his single bed — an orange set with a pattern of construction equipment, and a green set with dinosaurs. The first was the one with the stain. He stripped it off and set about replacing it with the dinosaur sheets.
The colourful prehistoric creatures, once vibrant and eye-catching, had become faded. These sheets were so old, back when they were new, Kyousuke's parents were still together. Back when none of them knew what 'autistic' meant and that it described what Kyousuke was.
Kyousuke sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. He told himself the heaviness in his chest was the result of expending his energy to fit clean sheets to his bed.
To clear his head, he got up and opened his door a crack, listening to what was going on outside. If his dad and Claude just happened to be talking about him.
**
They weren't. They were talking about Claude.
"So you were born in France, but you're not French?"
"Yes, I'm three-quarters Japanese and a quarter Russian from my mother's side. She's half-Japanese and half-Russian."
"I see. So why didn't your parents give you a Russian or Japanese name?"
"They wanted to commemorate my birthplace and the country where they first met. Also, in Japanese my name sounds similar to Kurando, a Sengoku period swordsman whose surname is also ‘Marume’ but is no ancestor of ours. "
"So much in a name...your parents were far more inspired than I was at Kyousuke’s birth. Does it ever trouble you, if someone mistakes you for being French?"
"No trouble at all. I did grow up there and still speak the language fluently."
"Even when living in Japan most of the time?"
"Yes, my father speaks French too and every now and then, we visit our relatives living in France."
"Oh! Since you have French relatives, doesn't that make you a bit French?"
"Not really. The French side is from marriage..."
Kyousuke scoffed and shook his head. The old man ought to get it together, or else no one would believe that he could hold his own in negotiations with NASA representatives.
**
The drinking party sounded like it was winding up. In the bathroom, Kyousuke continued eavesdropping as he stood at the sink and prepared to brush his teeth.
"You have many interesting stories to tell," his dad said. "Somehow I get the impression that like my son, all his friends are only obsessed with Crush Gear, but you've got quite a range of interests."
"Thank you," Claude replied. "And I'm grateful for your hospitality as well."
"How about one more drink?"
"Oh, no, really..."
"Right...I forget again that you're a very young man. It's a pity — I don't like to drink alone and I don't think I'll ever drink with Kyousuke, even after he comes of age."
Kyousuke put down on the sink his toothbrush with its bristles lined with toothpaste, threw the bathroom door open and declared, "I'll drink!"
Then he marched over to where he had sat beside Claude earlier, pulled out the chair and reseated himself while sliding Claude's empty glass across the table to his front.
"Kyousuke," Claude said. "The whisky is rather strong."
"He's right," Kyousuke's dad said.
Kyousuke glanced at Claude's cheeks. They only bore the faintest tinge of red. He could keep going with the drinking for a while if pressed by Kyousuke's dad, fueled by his Russian blood and his inclination to please his elders.
"I just feel like being a filial son," Kyousuke said.
He pushed the glass before him towards his dad, who was resigned to pour into it a splash of amber liquor. His own glass too he refilled with a more generous portion.
Kyousuke's dad raised his glass and said, "Kyousuke, to your health."
"To your health," Kyousuke repeated.
They clinked glasses. Then Kyousuke drained his to the bottom and put an end to all drinking for the night.
**
Lying in bed in the dark, with Claude curled up next to him, Kyousuke's stomach churned. He tried to ignore it, along with the lingering vapours of alchohol in his mouth that carried a scent reminiscent of petrol.
Funny how in ordinary circumstances, he'd react to being offered liquor as if asked to swallow petrol.
"Again," Claude said.
"Hmm?"
Another ominous rumbling reverberated from within Kyousuke, which Claude’s ear had caught the beginning of as he rested his head on Kyousuke's chest and near Kyousuke's belly.
Claude asked, "Do you still have those pills for stomach upset?"
"I don't think so."
"There might still be some left in your travel bag. Just hope that they aren't expired – I think they were bought during our Hokkaido tournament quite a while back."
Just as Claude was getting up, about to fetch Kyousuke's medicine for him, Kyousuke held him tighter. To more securely keep Claude in place, Kyousuke rolled to his side and lied with his legs bracketing Claude's thighs.
"I'm not sick," Kyousuke insisted.
"We'll see," Claude replied. "Your dad said to wake him up if we need anything."
"When did he say that?"
"When you were in the bathroom with the tap running. He thought you were throwing up."
"I wasn't, I was just washing my face. Anyway, next morning he'll probably be glad to know for sure that I wouldn't steal a few sips of your expensive present behind his back."
Claude laughed. "You're really not supposed to gulp whisky down, the way you did."
"Whatever." Kyousuke leaned closer, looking into the mesmerising green of Claude's eyes and said, "If you're not sleepy, I want to kiss you some more."
Making out with Claude on the bed had turned out an instant hit with Kyousuke. No doubt, he knew he'd be into it, but he underestimated how much he'd like how lying down canceled out the height difference between them. Much better than the other way of putting them both at the same eye level, when they kissed in Kyousuke's workshop with Claude sitting and Kyousuke standing.
"Before that," Claude said. "I've got to ask you – would you drink pure matcha tea?"
"No, who even does that?"
"That's customary for a traditional tea ceremony. And Kouya did – when my mom thought he was my boyfriend and served him tea."
"What on earth! When did she meet him? And why would she think you're dating Kouya?"
"He stopped by my house to deliver the cake his mom baked to celebrate the new year. And since back then you haven't told anyone about us, I thought to keep your identity secret even from my parents, so I just told them that I'm dating someone who's a big name in the Crush Gear world and is also from my club."
"…And naturally they'd think you're with the reigning world champion. Not Japan's only genius Gear Master."
"In their defense, even Kouya hadn't heard of the title ‘Gear Master’ before we joined Tobita Club."
"True…that fool."
"So I'd like you to meet my parents, or at least my mom, and introduce you officially as my boyfriend."
"Okay, I'll do that and drink every drop of bitter, expensive tea!"
"You don't have to do that. Or maybe I'll just tell my mom that you prefer coffee over tea."
"No, I'll sit through the tea ceremony, all the way in seiza if I have to. As long as you've got good ideas on how to reward me for putting on a good face."
"Mmm…I do have some ideas."
Claude smiled, held the back of Kyousuke's head and pulled him in for a kiss. Kyousuke shut his eyes, letting warmth suffuse his chest. He rested both his arms on both Claude's shoulders to pull himself further up Claude and return Claude's kiss with a firmer one.
Against Kyousuke’s mouth, Claude parted his lips as he let out an appreciate hum. That was good, and they could do even better. The gears of Kyousuke's brain turned as he clung on to Claude for dear life.
>>Crush Gear Turbo | Fanfiction Masterlist
>>Key | Fic Posts Emojis
Done with letting his dad know that he's dating Claude, Kyousuke next faces an evening of his dad and his boyfriend getting to know each other over dinner. Set in the future when Claude and Kyousuke are in their last year of high school. Part of the series: Everything in Its Place.
Better for Kyousuke to have the important talk with his dad, about him dating Claude, while he was still living at home and before moving to a new city for university. Some questions which arose during their talk, Kyousuke had foreseen – yes, he liked Claude, as a man. Yes, it was serious. Whether Kyousuke was gay, he was still figuring it out.
His dad's advice was to keep thinking about his romantic preferences. Their conversation seemed to have come to a natural end on that slow afternoon at the factory. No pesky drama lied in wait for Kyousuke, which he had braced himself for, even if it had long become habit for Jin Kousuke to shrug off his son's quirks.
But Kyousuke remained wary that a middle-aged man brought up in the boonies would have some ingrained prejudices. His dad’s background was a far cry from that of Claude's parents, who alternated between being honorary Europeans and being citizens of the world.
On Claude's end, he told his mom and dad right after finishing the university entrance exams. All clear for his side too, except that like Kyousuke's dad, Claude's parents left him with rather meaty food for thought – what Claude's future plans were for starting a family and raising children, if he stuck it out with Kyousuke.
Even a light mental poke at that issue hurt Kyousuke's head.
He had said to Claude, "We can always think about that once our age no longer start with 'ten'."
"Sure," Claude had replied. "We have up until there's a 'five' in front of the 'ten' for our years on earth."
In other words, when they were fifty years old.
Why did Claude choose that age? Wasn't it twenty years short of the typical life expectancy? Did he think they were going to die young or –
"Your friend…I mean, boyfriend, hasn't visited our home, has he?"
Kyousuke yanked his thoughts back to the present to answer his dad. "No."
"How about inviting him to eat dinner with us?"
"…Only if you order sushi."
"Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?"
**
Neither Kyousuke nor Claude had ever actually seen where each other lived. Not once since they first met, more than half a decade ago.
They were always together at the same old places. First Team Griffon's training space, then Tobita Club. Other familiar spots included Kyousuke's workshop at his dad’s factory and Jirou's house for overnight strategy meetings. Also scenic routes along the waterfront where they walked and talked near the hour of sunset, getting some fresh air while Kyousuke pretended he was only looking at the stirring of Claude's blond hair by the sea breeze to distract himself from the weariness in his legs.
Kyousuke did know about other important locations in Claude’s life: the dojo where Claude would put aside Gear Fighting for his kendo training, and his massive home that resembled the famous Manganji residence just around the corner. These places seemed full of signs that Kyousuke had best keep clear of — warning signs that spelled a more final separation for him and Claude, for Claude seemed to live in a different world where he might grow indifferent to Kyousuke and Crush Gear.
As for Kyousuke’s own home, the apartment that he shared with his dad, nothing stored there seemed troubling for Claude to stumble on. It was just where Kyousuke ate, slept, showered and did what he had to do to appear as a decent member of society anywhere outside of his workshop and Tobita Club -- Kyousuke's actual homes.
To the drab living area where the Jin family resided, Claude's arrival brought some colour. That tended to happen wherever Claude went, sweeping his green eyes over his surroundings, taking every sound into his pale ears and shedding the same strands of yellow hair found on the floor of Kyousuke's workshop when he bothered to sweep it.
Kyousuke’s dad started off polite, especially since Claude was slightly taller than him and had on a crisp white dress shirt that looked more expensive than anything he had in his closet. Then he turned rapturous on discovering the gift that Claude had brought.
"Lagavulin 16! The burnt tears of an angel!"
The bottle of amber liquid was courtesy of Claude's dad, who according to Claude, imported foreign liquor as one of his businesses.
Kyousuke's dad whistled. "I'm in a similar line as well. Except the fumes I breathe in are from machine oils, which while toxic, at least won't lead me down the path of alcoholism and bankruptcy."
Right on cue, Claude delivered a polite laugh.
As Kyousuke poured cold water for everyone, his dad got a clean glass to sample his new whisky.
Once he poured in a finger, he turned to Claude and asked, "Would you also like to drink some?"
"Can I?" Claude said.
"Wait...you're Kyousuke's age, right?"
Kyousuke stood behind Claude to hide how he had to hold in a groan.
"That's right," Claude replied. "I'm eight months older than Kyousuke."
"Right, right...the thing is, Kyousuke hasn't got any taller since junior high, so you two seemed more like eight years apart!"
Against Claude's back, Kyousuke thumped his forehead.
**
The sushi did not let Kyousuke down. Whether the whisky complemented it, or whether it lived up to the high praises his dad sung of it, Kyousuke couldn’t say.
Being small, it should come as no surprise that he was a weak drinker, as he discovered in his first forays into trying to like liquor. Not that he cared as he disliked the taste of alcohol anyway.
Unlike him, Claude had his first glass of wine before he got his Shooting Mirage in France. More than one family vacation in his teen years was spent drinking more beer than water. According to him, he and his fully Japanese dad had a tradition of sharing a bottle from the vineyard near the village where Claude grew up while practising French conversation.
After hearing Claude’s stories about drinking with family friends of various nationalities, Kyousuke’s dad asked, “What’s your favourite drinking toast?”
“Santé,” Claude replied. “That’s French for ‘to your health’.”
“To your health!” Kyousuke’s dad raised his glass of whisky. “Better live a long life so I won’t have to go back to worrying about Kyousuke dying alone.”
As Claude turned towards Kyousuke, Kyousuke crammed into his mouth another tamago sushi to gnash on along with a piece of half-chewed sashimi.
**
Alone in his room, having retreated there once he had eaten his fill, Kyousuke tried to guess the embarrassing stories his dad was telling Claude. They were still seated at the dining table and chatting over a second glass of the whisky from Claude's dad. The last Kyousuke heard was them talking about sake and other kinds of Japanese liquor -- a conversation to which Kyousuke had nothing to contribute.
He had his bed sheets to change, for Claude was also sleeping over. Much thought was put into extending the dinner invitation to get Claude to stay longer, and whether Claude would read anything into it, which turned out to be no big deal with Claude's casual agreement to stay the night.
Kyousuke imagined they'd be doing that more in university. Having sleepovers that weren't part of tournament trips or strategy meetings with their friends, that is. It wouldn't hurt to get started in their hometown, even if doing anything more than just sleeping might get dicey with Kyousuke's dad under the same roof.
While straightening everything out and separating junk from anything remotely valuable, Kyousuke revealed hidden under some Crush Gear model brochures a fist-sized brown stain. It didn't smell and was at least located in an inconspicuous corner where he would lay his feet. Still, he resolved to put in the extra effort to turn his bedroom clean and neat, as befitting the special occasion and as Claude would prefer him to.
He only had two sets of sheets for his single bed — an orange set with a pattern of construction equipment, and a green set with dinosaurs. The first was the one with the stain. He stripped it off and set about replacing it with the dinosaur sheets.
The colourful prehistoric creatures, once vibrant and eye-catching, had become faded. These sheets were so old, back when they were new, Kyousuke's parents were still together. Back when none of them knew what 'autistic' meant and that it described what Kyousuke was.
Kyousuke sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. He told himself the heaviness in his chest was the result of expending his energy to fit clean sheets to his bed.
To clear his head, he got up and opened his door a crack, listening to what was going on outside. If his dad and Claude just happened to be talking about him.
**
They weren't. They were talking about Claude.
"So you were born in France, but you're not French?"
"Yes, I'm three-quarters Japanese and a quarter Russian from my mother's side. She's half-Japanese and half-Russian."
"I see. So why didn't your parents give you a Russian or Japanese name?"
"They wanted to commemorate my birthplace and the country where they first met. Also, in Japanese my name sounds similar to Kurando, a Sengoku period swordsman whose surname is also ‘Marume’ but is no ancestor of ours. "
"So much in a name...your parents were far more inspired than I was at Kyousuke’s birth. Does it ever trouble you, if someone mistakes you for being French?"
"No trouble at all. I did grow up there and still speak the language fluently."
"Even when living in Japan most of the time?"
"Yes, my father speaks French too and every now and then, we visit our relatives living in France."
"Oh! Since you have French relatives, doesn't that make you a bit French?"
"Not really. The French side is from marriage..."
Kyousuke scoffed and shook his head. The old man ought to get it together, or else no one would believe that he could hold his own in negotiations with NASA representatives.
**
The drinking party sounded like it was winding up. In the bathroom, Kyousuke continued eavesdropping as he stood at the sink and prepared to brush his teeth.
"You have many interesting stories to tell," his dad said. "Somehow I get the impression that like my son, all his friends are only obsessed with Crush Gear, but you've got quite a range of interests."
"Thank you," Claude replied. "And I'm grateful for your hospitality as well."
"How about one more drink?"
"Oh, no, really..."
"Right...I forget again that you're a very young man. It's a pity — I don't like to drink alone and I don't think I'll ever drink with Kyousuke, even after he comes of age."
Kyousuke put down on the sink his toothbrush with its bristles lined with toothpaste, threw the bathroom door open and declared, "I'll drink!"
Then he marched over to where he had sat beside Claude earlier, pulled out the chair and reseated himself while sliding Claude's empty glass across the table to his front.
"Kyousuke," Claude said. "The whisky is rather strong."
"He's right," Kyousuke's dad said.
Kyousuke glanced at Claude's cheeks. They only bore the faintest tinge of red. He could keep going with the drinking for a while if pressed by Kyousuke's dad, fueled by his Russian blood and his inclination to please his elders.
"I just feel like being a filial son," Kyousuke said.
He pushed the glass before him towards his dad, who was resigned to pour into it a splash of amber liquor. His own glass too he refilled with a more generous portion.
Kyousuke's dad raised his glass and said, "Kyousuke, to your health."
"To your health," Kyousuke repeated.
They clinked glasses. Then Kyousuke drained his to the bottom and put an end to all drinking for the night.
**
Lying in bed in the dark, with Claude curled up next to him, Kyousuke's stomach churned. He tried to ignore it, along with the lingering vapours of alchohol in his mouth that carried a scent reminiscent of petrol.
Funny how in ordinary circumstances, he'd react to being offered liquor as if asked to swallow petrol.
"Again," Claude said.
"Hmm?"
Another ominous rumbling reverberated from within Kyousuke, which Claude’s ear had caught the beginning of as he rested his head on Kyousuke's chest and near Kyousuke's belly.
Claude asked, "Do you still have those pills for stomach upset?"
"I don't think so."
"There might still be some left in your travel bag. Just hope that they aren't expired – I think they were bought during our Hokkaido tournament quite a while back."
Just as Claude was getting up, about to fetch Kyousuke's medicine for him, Kyousuke held him tighter. To more securely keep Claude in place, Kyousuke rolled to his side and lied with his legs bracketing Claude's thighs.
"I'm not sick," Kyousuke insisted.
"We'll see," Claude replied. "Your dad said to wake him up if we need anything."
"When did he say that?"
"When you were in the bathroom with the tap running. He thought you were throwing up."
"I wasn't, I was just washing my face. Anyway, next morning he'll probably be glad to know for sure that I wouldn't steal a few sips of your expensive present behind his back."
Claude laughed. "You're really not supposed to gulp whisky down, the way you did."
"Whatever." Kyousuke leaned closer, looking into the mesmerising green of Claude's eyes and said, "If you're not sleepy, I want to kiss you some more."
Making out with Claude on the bed had turned out an instant hit with Kyousuke. No doubt, he knew he'd be into it, but he underestimated how much he'd like how lying down canceled out the height difference between them. Much better than the other way of putting them both at the same eye level, when they kissed in Kyousuke's workshop with Claude sitting and Kyousuke standing.
"Before that," Claude said. "I've got to ask you – would you drink pure matcha tea?"
"No, who even does that?"
"That's customary for a traditional tea ceremony. And Kouya did – when my mom thought he was my boyfriend and served him tea."
"What on earth! When did she meet him? And why would she think you're dating Kouya?"
"He stopped by my house to deliver the cake his mom baked to celebrate the new year. And since back then you haven't told anyone about us, I thought to keep your identity secret even from my parents, so I just told them that I'm dating someone who's a big name in the Crush Gear world and is also from my club."
"…And naturally they'd think you're with the reigning world champion. Not Japan's only genius Gear Master."
"In their defense, even Kouya hadn't heard of the title ‘Gear Master’ before we joined Tobita Club."
"True…that fool."
"So I'd like you to meet my parents, or at least my mom, and introduce you officially as my boyfriend."
"Okay, I'll do that and drink every drop of bitter, expensive tea!"
"You don't have to do that. Or maybe I'll just tell my mom that you prefer coffee over tea."
"No, I'll sit through the tea ceremony, all the way in seiza if I have to. As long as you've got good ideas on how to reward me for putting on a good face."
"Mmm…I do have some ideas."
Claude smiled, held the back of Kyousuke's head and pulled him in for a kiss. Kyousuke shut his eyes, letting warmth suffuse his chest. He rested both his arms on both Claude's shoulders to pull himself further up Claude and return Claude's kiss with a firmer one.
Against Kyousuke’s mouth, Claude parted his lips as he let out an appreciate hum. That was good, and they could do even better. The gears of Kyousuke's brain turned as he clung on to Claude for dear life.
>>Crush Gear Turbo | Fanfiction Masterlist
>>Key | Fic Posts Emojis