📕📃📜Crush Gear Turbo | One to One Versus One

[g_uava]

Marume Claude/Jin Kyousuke | NSFW/SFW | 12k+ words

The end of high school draws near with Claude having not just won the Asia Cup for his team, but also cutting short his years of longing for Kyousuke with his confession. Becoming boyfriends gets Claude conflicted over possessing Kyousuke's affection and monopolising it, while Kyousuke dives headfirst into exploring the possibilities presented by the discovery of his attraction to Claude and their partnership's evolution. Part of the series: Everything in Its True Place.

⛔Warnings⛔

Underage Sex (Characters are 17 years old)

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CLAUDE

Piano music floated up the floors of Claude's high school and blanketed the sounds along the hallway that he was passing through. It was one of Liszt’s pieces, and whoever played it knew it well. While Claude tried to recall its title, a gap in the delicate threads of notes allowed a part of someone's speech to thrust itself into Claude's earshot.

"The Asia Cup Champion…"

He turned to his right where two boys stood talking with their backs against a classroom's closed door. The boy who spoke last noticed him, pressed his lips together and delivered a stiff nod. His friend copied him, and Claude nodded at both of them, returning their greeting from Gear Fighter to Gear Fighter even if he had only come across their faces in the Kantou tournament circuit and did not know either of their names.

His own name had headlined the news of every Crush Gear publication since the finals of the Asia Cup in Manila, held before the second and last semester of his senior year in high school began. Until the annual battle among the Asian teams' Gear Fighters started up again, the title of the regional champion would overshadow the other parts of his identity. All the glory and envy, praise and gossip, admiration and criticism would fall on him first, then trickling down to his club's other members in the interim between the crowning of one champion and the next.

Claude had played his role as a senior member of Tobita Club to lead and inspire his juniors while understanding what lied in store for him. Above becoming the year's champion, he took more pride in renewing his teammates' belief in their club as a worthy place, as both a destination to return to and also the starting point of a Gear Fighter's journey with everything to equip them to go far and high. That was how Claude saw Tobita Club, and how he wanted it to continue to be, long after regular visits there were no longer possible for him once he finished high school and relocate to another city for his higher education.

He wanted to continue training as a Gear Fighter in the new city. But as for competing, he would put that aside, along with any demands and requests pushing him towards magnifying his unwanted fame.

Even with his thoughts turning to his post-graduation plans, he did not miss a familiar voice calling his name.

"Kyousuke," Claude said as his friend fell into step beside him at the end of the corridor.

"School's a bore," Kyousuke said. "I was practically sleeping with my eyes open for most of the day."

"You shouldn't. University entrance exams are just around the corner."

Kyousuke just scrunched his brow and shrugged.

Claude turned away to hide his little smile. He and Kyousuke were schoolmates, yet in the past three years, they had only left school together and headed to their club for training about a couple of times each month. Having Kyousuke's company in school was Claude's rare treat since Kyousuke seldom attended his classes.

Kyousuke once admitted that if he failed the entrance examination for their school, he would have skipped high school altogether. His willingness to continue his formal schooling had counted on Claude's familiar presence in an environment which Kyousuke found restrictive and detestable. Claude accepted the extension of their partnership beyond Gear Fighting, which had evolved to a stage where Claude not only appreciated but also treasured Kyousuke's extraordinary esteem of him.

For Kyousuke had become even more special to Claude, in a way that Claude must never let Kyousuke know.

The music lapped their ears as they walked without talking. It grew louder when they reached the stairwell, at the bottom of which stood the piano available for anyone in school to play.

"Any idea who's playing that?" Kyousuke asked.

"No," Claude said. "Let's take a look."

KYOUSUKE

No one sat before the piano when they got to it. Whoever had been playing it had vacated its bench, leaving it free for someone else to create more music to disperse some of the humdrum atmosphere in the school grounds. Kyousuke approached the musical instrument, superimposing mentally another set of fingers on the black and white keys.

Claude’s fingers, as Kyousuke had seen them rising and falling on another piano, many years ago. They passed by it on their way down to get to the subway after a joint training session with another Crush Gear club. Then, they were still members of Team Griffon then, ignorant of the future, of the disastrous effect of one small AI microchip, of Claude abandoning Kyousuke along with everything to do with Gear Fighting.

Perhaps Kyousuke got an inkling of the worst to come on that otherwise unremarkable evening. It explained the vague unease stirring within him when Claude started to play the piano.

He had sat down to practise a song for his mom’s birthday — some pop song that Kyousuke had not heard of. He played it well, as well as he fought in the ring. The display of his musical ability was Kyousuke’s first preview of Claude’s talents outside of Crush Gear, and recasted him in Kyousuke’s eyes as someone who could go anywhere. Someone who could be somebody wherever he went, unlike Kyousuke whose value relied on him sticking to his little niche.

In the present, Kyousuke put his hand on his high school’s piano and asked Claude, "What was that song you wanted to play for your mom?"

Claude blinked. "Which one?"

"The one you practised towards the end of 2010."

Claude paused to count back the years before saying, "I think that was Vanessa Carlton’s "A Thousand Miles"."

"Still don’t know it."

But Kyousuke knew how to play it. At least its start, through imitating the movements of the younger Claude’s fingers. Every detail of that memory surged to the front of Kyousuke’s mind, guiding the minute muscles of his hand as he struck the piano keys. He began playing just when Claude’s eyes turned downcast, as if thinking about the distant past had drawn in waves of less pleasant memories threatening to pull him under.

That did not happen with Kyousuke’s impressive feat capturing Claude’s attention, and Claude’s voice contained a mix of delight and awe as he said, "I didn’t know you could play!"

"I can’t," Kyousuke replied. "I just did what you did."

"Oh, but that was so long ago!"

Kyousuke raised his head to look at Claude. He took in Claude’s fond smile that spoke volumes of his regard and admiration. Not every day did he manage to amaze Claude and tell Claude what their shared memories meant to him. Even then, the weight of his fingers on the piano only created sounds that were light and fleeting, like spoken words fading away in a flash and inadequate for containing the substance of their partnership.

Kyousuke pressed a white key and held it down. The vibrating of the air accompanied the resounding note, and Kyousuke glanced at the shell of Claude’s ear; the ear that never missed the tiniest sound.

He turned back to the piano. For the next part of the song, he had to hit one white key with his thumb and a black key with his fourth finger in rapid succession. Only after spreading apart his fingers, he realised that his hand was too small and his fingers too short to play like Claude did. The strain along the back of his hand spelled his inevitable failure; a warning for him to cut short his attempt to avoid looking like a complete fool.

Before he pulled in his fingers, Claude held them in place, laying his hand on top of Kyousuke’s hand. One of his fingers covered the small gap between Kyousuke’s fourth finger and the black key nearest to it, and landed on the key in tandem with a jolt in Kyousuke’s heart. Kyousuke let out a soft gasp, startled by the warmth of Claude’s larger hand that crept down Kyousuke’s arm, encircling like a ring of fire his thought of Claude’s nearness to him.

CLAUDE

What Kyousuke shared at Tobita Club rattled Claude to the core. It spread tremors within him, dulling his sharp hearing and blocking off many details of the Gear Fights between other members in the ring. No one seemed to have noticed his unraveling attention, for nobody commented on it while he oversaw the training session led by the junior regulars.

They were the same members who had fought with him throughout the Asia Cup and its qualifying matches. Winning had strengthened their belief in themselves as top fighters and let them become more sure-footed towards taking over the roles of the senior members as the team’s leaders and mentors. At the end of training, they went up to Claude, asking him for his thoughts and he offered them some encouraging words and suggestions for the next training.

They walked away from him in good cheer to talk to Kouya. From afar, Claude observed his juniors clustered around his younger friend, listening to snatches of their energetic chatter. Very soon, it’d be just them holding the fort, with Kouya continuing to stand tall and strong as the pillar of the team. Their shared dreams and dedication drew a glistening outline of the version of Tobita Club under their care; one that Claude looked forward to seeing filled out.

Looking ahead to the future allowed him to numb his sorrow over having to part from a place that he really loved. Yet that future also seemed to confront him with twists and unpleasant truths which were irresponsible, even immoral, for him to ignore.

He approached the table in the club’s main training area, in front of which Kyousuke sat fiddling with a wrench. Kyousuke’s Gear Case lied open on the table, while his Gear and the rest of his tools were nowhere to be seen.

"I want to talk to you," Claude said.

"Okay," Kyousuke said, dropping his wrench into his Gear Case and getting to his feet.

They went to the pier and walked until they got to a stretch of the waterfront without anyone around. They liked to go there, bundled in warm clothes for protection against the merciless wind sweeping in from the sea. Claude hastened to speak, to get what he had to say done and over with to take Kyousuke some place warmer.

He faced Kyousuke as he said, "You told everyone you wanted to go to the same university as me."

"What about it?" Kyousuke said, digging his hands into the pocket of his coat.

"Didn’t you want to start a mechanical workshop with Lan Fang, and take on poor children and orphans as your apprentices?"

"Not really. I’d have to live in rural China and I don’t want to do that, even if Lan Fang’s there."

"You’d really prefer to start caring and studying for the university entrance exam?"

"What’s wrong with that? I thought you, of all people, would approve of me getting a university degree."

"I don’t disapprove. But with your capability, you could have chosen a much better school."

"Me? Someone with spotty attendance and even spottier grades?" Kyousuke snorted, releasing a disdainful puff of air that created a little cloud. "I want to stay in Japan and that school invited me to join their engineering programme on a scholarship, as long as I pass their entrance test."

"So the scholarship is your main reason for choosing that school?"

"What else would it be? Wait...I’m guessing you thought I wanted to go there just because of you."

Claude answered with his silence. Kyousuke had hit the nail on the head.

Kyousuke glared at Claude, saying, "It won’t be like high school all over again. If you’d rather not see me, you don’t have to —"

"No!"

"No?"

Claude took a step forward and grabbed Kyousuke’s hand. His grip shattered Kyousuke’s heartbreaking look of hurt and fury, and to stop it from returning, he continued holding on to Kyousuke.

"I want to keep seeing you," Claude said.

"Huh?"

Kyousuke seemed stunned, then annoyed, frowning and looking as if he wanted to hit Claude.

"I want it too much," Claude said.

Kyousuke stared at Claude’s fingers around his hand, then down to the wooden slats of the pier’s boardwalk.

"I really don’t get it," he muttered.

"If we’re alone together in another city, without our friends and teammates, I don’t know what I’ll do."

Kyousuke snapped his head back up to deliver another glare and said, "Your explanation makes less and less sense, the more you talk."

"I’m gay, and I like you."

That crystalised the crux of the matter. Claude began letting go of Kyousuke, forcing himself not to linger, for he had better go and take his selfish wants away with him.

KYOUSUKE

It was Kyousuke’s turn to grab Claude’s hand. He held Claude in place, daring him with his tight grasp to try and run away. He deserved a clear, thorough explanation on what Claude revealed about himself and if Claude thought he could do without it, all the years of their partnership would have been for nothing.

Kyousuke swallowed, for his throat had gone dry, then asked, "What’s so bad about liking me?"

"I’m attracted to men and I’m attracted to you," Claude said. "Emotionally and physically."

His elaboration covered all the bases for the typical idea of liking someone, except the first part. About his attraction to other men. The straightforward delivery of his words drove in the gravity behind them, and they sunk into Kyousuke’s depths, where they were converted into energy for carrying out what to next say and do.

Claude liking him should scare him, as it scared Claude himself. But even as Kyousuke’s stomach quaked and he seemed to be standing on uneven ground, he harboured zero desire of getting away.

Still, he had to admit the truth and said, "I’m not gay."

"I know that," Claude replied.

"You’re gay...for me. Me, really?"

"Yes, really."

"Come on..."

Kyousuke tugged on Claude’s arm. Claude, bigger and stronger than him, could have shrugged him off, but instead allowed Kyousuke to pull him closer until the fronts of their coats almost touched. Heat prickled across Kyousuke’s cheeks despite the chill of the sea breeze.

Claude’s physical attraction to him intrigued him the most. Him, who had all his life been short and severely short-sighted to boot, with an utter lack of grace and muscularity whenever he stepped out of his role as the Genius Gear Master. Anyone, gay or not gay, would think it more logical for the attraction between them to go the other way around with Kyousuke wanting the handsome, tall and head-turning Claude.

Defying logic seemed necessary for Kyousuke to really understand Claude. Claude had thrown logic out the window first in finding Kyousuke attractive, and Kyousuke just had to follow his lead. He scrutinised Claude’s face, trying to bore through the emotionless mask that Claude had pulled over his features. Kyousuke imagined Claude seeing him as he saw girls, as he had seen Lan Fang before coming to terms with the barriers in reality limiting his ability to be with the girl of his dreams.

Thinking of her scraped a scab within him, and he shunted his thought aside in favour of concentrating all his attention on Claude.

He asked, "You want to touch me?"

"Yes," Claude said.

"And make out with me?"

Claude drew in a long breath, then said, "Yes."

"Go for it. I don’t mind."

"Kyousuke, don’t."

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t...dare me."

"I’m not. I’m just letting you do what you want."

While Kyousuke spoke the truth, he left unsaid what he really wanted — firsthand knowledge of how Claude wanted him, and what he had to offer Claude that he had not handed over already. As Claude did nothing, an invisible hand seemed to clench Kyousuke’s heart, and he assumed he appeared less appealing up close.

Then Claude put his hand on Kyousuke’s waist and leaned in. The clenching around Kyousuke’s heart unwound under its the drumbeat of its pounding. He closed his eyes as Claude lowered his head.

CLAUDE

Against Kyousuke’s forehead, Claude pressed his lips. His kiss set off a crumbling somewhere within him. For strength, he brought Kyousuke closer to him. In his embrace, Kyousuke squirmed, but did not try to break free as he gripped Claude’s arm harder.

Once Claude drew back, Kyousuke scowled and said, "You call that making out?"

"I wanted to do that too," Claude replied.

"That’s not all, I bet. You wouldn’t have got so worked up and talk about not knowing what you’d do if you just wanted that."

"I won’t do anything you don’t want."

"Fine, you want me to say it? I’ll say it. I want you to make out with me."

As if extending his invitation, Kyousuke folded in his lips to wet them. Everything about him, from his grumbling to the piercing intensity in his lovely, large eyes, was almost too adorable for Claude to resist. It seemed more right for Claude to just hug him and tell him he did not have to do anything to dispel the discomfort which had arisen between them. The fault was all Claude’s in assuming that Kyousuke wanted to follow him for university out of an unhealthy and excessive dependence on him. But he read in Kyousuke’s current look a subtle pleading to take on his offer, to not leave him looking foolish and undeserving of a kiss.

Again, Claude leaned in, then brought their lips together.

Just when he began pulling away, Kyousuke kissed him back. Claude returned the press of his lips, encouraged by Kyousuke squeezing his arm. Their mouths parted a hair’s breadth before another kiss from Kyousuke followed suit, and they continued chaining one kiss after another until what they shared seemed like one long, endless kiss.

A gust of wind, indifferent to the exchange of their warmth, forced them apart. Kyousuke broke away first to turn his head to sneeze and sniffle with a scrunch of his nose.

"That’s not my first kiss," he said.

"Not mine either," Claude said.

He knew who had the honour of having Kyousuke’s first few kisses. As for the ones that Kyousuke offered up with a backward bend of his neck, they were Claude’s for the taking. And he took them, warming the chapped lips under his mouth.

KYOUSUKE

When nearly every orange ray of the setting sun retreated from the darkening indigo sky, their kisses petered out. Light-headed, Kyousuke let Claude take his hand. Claude stroked its back, again and again, and muttered some comment about how dry and cold it was that Kyousuke only half-listened to.

He said, "We’re going out, right?"

Claude paused his stroking and just held Kyousuke’s hand.

"Right," Claude replied.

His next kiss, placed not on Kyousuke’s lips but on the back of Kyousuke’s hand, marked the change that had taken place for both of them.

Their first week of going out involved Kyousuke literally going out more, for he attended every day of school. Being short put him in a seat at the front row of the classroom, where he delivered the same indifferent grunt to the teachers’ comments on his presence, ranging from a brusque scolding for missing many lessons to a commendation presented under the mistaken impression that his upcoming graduation had driven him to get serious about his academics. Throughout his dreary classes, he thought not about their content but on Claude’s eagerness to hold his hand, which Claude did once they were alone and past the school gates.

They just held hands. Not a single kiss was taken or asked for; not when Claude had to part ways to go for his kendo classes or after training at Tobita Club along their way home. No part of Kyousuke got a press of Claude’s lips, and they were unfairly deprived of the affection that Kyousuke’s fingers absorbed in spades through the brushes and firm clutches of Claude’s hand.

Reality turned out a far cry from what Kyousuke imagined in the wake of their conversation at the pier. He read into Claude’s confession more hidden secrets, more unspoken fantasies too improper to voice aloud in public. Perhaps they were sexual fantasies, springing from the physical attraction that Claude talked of. Perhaps these boiled down to Claude wanting Kyousuke all to himself, to do with as he pleased.

Imagining it really happening spread an electrifying thrill all over Kyousuke that kept him awake at night and enlarged his curiosity for the future, for getting closer to Claude in more ways than one.

Kyousuke had created many openings for Claude to enact his fantasies and let Kyousuke know what they were through his actions. Yet Claude held back, as if waiting for a clearer cue, one unmistakable like a flashing neon sign spelling out Kyousuke’s permission to have him.

It seemed unecessary for a pair like them, who were usually so good at reading each other and communicating without words. Kyousuke thought of a better alternative and saved his idea for the weekend, when he got Claude to visit his dad’s factory.

On the swivel chair in his workshop, he sat Claude down and threw his legs astride Claude’s thighs. Through taking Claude’s lap as his own seat, he elevated his head and shoulders above Claude and reversed their height difference. The vantage point allowed him to seem less small while bringing their lips together, to claim Claude’s kiss.

To not fall off, Kyousuke rested his hands on Claude’s shoulders. Claude assisted him by holding the sides of his hips. Kyousuke kept his attention on Claude’s mouth, on Claude stretching its corners and pressing it shut tightly as if stifling laughter.

"This position," Claude said. "It’s a little..."

"A little what?" Kyousuke asked.

"Racy."

A giggle escaped from Claude’s lips.

Kyousuke fought the urge to squirm and just said, "Shush, who’s got the big fat gay crush on who again?"

He did not wait for a reply before surging his head forward and taking his kiss. His stomach swooped with the first press of Claude’s lips, setting off a warm thrumming that Kyousuke settled into as he lengthened their chain of kisses. He closed his eyes to better savour having Claude’s lips under him and having the weight of his arms and legs enclosing the rest of Claude.

Kissing a boy seemed not much different from kissing a girl, except that doing it with a boy brought out a greater urge to crush and dominate. A lot more like facing a tough Gear Fighter capable of meeting Kyousuke’s Gear blow for blow. Driven to take more of the upper hand, Kyousuke kissed Claude harder and clamped his thighs tighter around Claude’s legs.

The whisper of Claude’s little sigh brushed Kyousuke’s mouth. Kyousuke wanted to draw another one out from Claude’s depths. Like throwing a coil of rope down a well, Kyousuke plunged his tongue into the seam of Claude’s lips. The angle of their heads kept him from thrusting in far, and as he visualised the dark hollow within Claude’s throat, he grabbed the back of Claude’s head and pulled down towards the floor.

Claude’s cry first alarmed him, then delighted him when Claude dug his fingers into Kyousuke’s hips. Kyousuke got that Claude wanted more, and wanted him closer. Without seperating their lips, he tightened the twist of his fingers around the strands of Claude’s hair. Their smooth silkiness contrasted against Kyousuke’s rough handling, both with his hand and his tongue’s invasion into Claude’s mouth.

Then it happened — the change impossible to ignore, protruding into Kyousuke’s steadfast march towards asserting his dominance. His crotch met a bump at the front of Claude’s pants. Though it shook him on the inside, he chased his new finding and ground his hips down.

No doubt, the bump against his crotch was a boner. Claude’s boner, like the ones Kyousuke got every now and then. All he did had turned Claude on and awakened a similar stirring in Kyousuke’s own groin and heart.

As Claude tensed against him, he drew away from Claude’s lips and asked, "Don’t you like that?"

"No more," Claude said. "Please."

"No more...not ever? Or just for today?"

The tremor in Kyousuke’s voice betrayed his insecurity. He wanted to take it back on seeing panic flicker across Claude’s eyes. Even while holding in his obvious discomfort, Claude put Kyousuke’s well-being above his own.

"Just for today. I might lose control if we kept going."

"Okay..."

Kyousuke stood up and backed out of Claude’s personal space. He stared down at his hand, still curled as they had been while gripping Claude’s hair. A few fine, blond strands rested on his palm and he closed them in his fist.

He asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Claude replied as he also got to his feet. "Not at all."

Before heading home, he left Kyousuke with one last kiss. The press of his lips — affectionate, forgiving and chaste — lingered on Kyousuke’s forehead long after Claude shut the door to Kyousuke’s workshop behind him.

CLAUDE

A fitful night of tossing and turning followed what happened at Kyousuke’s workshop. Claude’s mind latched onto Kyousuke’s sharp tug on his hair and demanding presses all over him that were interspersed with Kyousuke’s brilliant kisses. With a soft groan, Claude widened his legs beneath his blanket to accommodate the growing ache between them.

Arousal took him over and seeded filthy images across his inner landscape. Images of him using Kyousuke, rubbing off on him, reversing their seats to suck him while on his knees and rubbing another one out, and getting hard again from licking him, not just Kyousuke’s cock but also his hole after holding the back of his thighs to bend them back and apart.

Kyousuke’s words at the pier returned to him, about their kiss not being his first one. He was not a total innocent, yet that did not change the potential for Claude to corrupt him and the purity of their partnership. Claude sought to preserve it even after agreeing to date and sharing moments that boosted his spirits high above the clouds.

He told himself that Kyousuke’s newfound interest in men did not give him license to take all he wanted. To extend his influence over Kyousuke and limit Kyousuke’s growth in connecting to many others, nurturing numerous attachments and lending his various strengths to secure his place among dependable companions. Since their childhood, Claude always looked out for when his existence might again get in the way of Kyousuke receiving love from the world at large.

Thinking about Kyousuke as beloved to the world, as he was to Claude, cooled the heat within Claude. For a while he slept, then rose to meditate in another part of his home where he liked to have the morning’s gentle sunlight and fresh air clear his head.

His day started with a sparring session with Mizumori-sensei before the first kendo class began. Claude was the first to arrive at Meikyoukan, or so he thought until he heard the pacing of footsteps in the dojo’s changing room.

He called out, "Who’s there?"

"It’s me."

"Kyousuke!"

"Morning." Kyousuke stopped his pacing and turned to Claude with a stiff raise of his hand. "Your sensei let me wait for you here."

"I see," Claude said.

"It’s pretty early. I guess you’re ramping up your training for your 4th dan grading."

"That’s still rather far off. This is just the only time my sensei and I can spar one-on-one."

"Hmm, if all that’s going well, then do more than show your face at the club, okay?"

Kyousuke hardly took an interest in Claude’s kendo training except when Claude trained at his dojo more than at Tobita Club, especially when he had to put his entire being into fighting as a swordsman and becoming fully deserving of getting promoted to a higher rank. He had yet to reach that stage for his current grading preparation and maintained his consistency in dividing his efforts an equal amount between kendo and Gear Fighting.

"Did you want to talk to me about that?" Claude asked. "Or is there anything else?"

"There is." Kyousuke sighed. "Since yesterday, I stayed up all night, thinking."

"Are you all right? You should get some rest."

"Sure, but first I’ve got to tell you...I’m half-gay."

"Half-gay?"

By his sides, Kyousuke clenched his fists hard enough to shake his shoulders.

"Half of me is gay whereas the other half continues to be into girls," he said. "That’s how I see it, but I could get a lot gayer if we kiss and touch more..."

A delicate flush crept over his cheeks. They turned a deeper shade of red after Kyousuke looked Claude up and down, as if imagining the kissing and touching he suggested. Likewise, a warm tingle spread across the sides of Claude’s face which he tried to dispel with a soft laugh.

He asked, "Are you trying to tell me that you’re bisexual?"

"Bisexual...yes, that term does apply. I’ll even add it to my title."

Kyousuke put his hands on his hips, threw out his chest and said, "You’re looking at not only the Genius Gear Master and Japan’s only Gear Master, but also the world’s first bisexual Gear Master."

"Alex might have beaten you to it," Claude said.

Kyousuke’s chest deflated as his jaw dropped. "Alexander Borg? How did you know about his sexuality?"

"I don’t, that’s just the impression I got from him."

Kyousuke sighed. "Still, it seems I’m not even the first bisexual Gear Master of Tobita Club."

Smiling, Claude said, "In any case, I’m proud of you for being open about your sexuality. Few in the Crush Gear world and in Japanese society would dare to come out like you had."

"Eh?" Kyousuke frowned. "Coming outside is a pain, but getting here is no big deal."

"I meant ‘to come out’ as a euphemism for sharing that you’re not heterosexual."

"Oh, okay, that’s new to me."

"We can talk more about it later."

Against a wooden rack for personal items, Claude set down his shinai and said, "I’ve got to get changed and see my sensei."

"May I watch you change?" Kyousuke asked.

The request stumped Claude for a second, then he asked back, "What for?"

"For a preview of our...future activities."

Kyousuke took a step towards Claude with his mouth set. In the face of his serious attitude, Claude smiled and sighed, as if having to summon the will to humour Kyousuke. But only nerves, and not a trace of reluctance, resulted in the slight tremble of his fingers as he unbuttoned his shirt before Kyousuke.

Once he undid the last button, he turned his back to Kyousuke. Unused to being shirtless around others, he hid the part of his chest exposed through the parting of his shirt. He got the rest of his shirt off, pulling it down his back and drawing out his arm from one sleeve, then the other. Behind him, Kyousuke’s scrutiny heated up the air as well as the entire length of Claude’s bare back.

Claude folded his shirt, set it on the changing room’s rack and unfastened his belt and pants. As he finished undressing and folding his clothes before setting them on the rack, he tried to appear relaxed, containing the warmth spreading beneath his skin. He did not dare to look over his shoulder and sneak a peek at Kyousuke, to see that Kyousuke truly wanted him as a man. It seemed all the more inappropriate at his dojo, where Claude trained his mastery over his senses and his thoughts.

Done with folding up his pants, he stood in just his light blue briefs and patted his neat pile of clothes.

"Stop there," Kyousuke said.

He appeared right beside Claude, having taken a soundless step closer to him. Kyousuke held Claude’s bicep and with a gentle push, he pressed Claude’s back against the rack.

"Both your front and back are super flat," Kyousuke said.

"Of course," Claude said. "I’m a man."

"No shit."

Then, Kyousuke laid a kiss below Claude’s collar bone. The meeting of Kyousuke’s lips on his bare skin had him gasping and raising his chest to Kyousuke’s mouth. Kyousuke’s kiss became more forceful and as he stamped the shape of his lips over Claude’s pink, he pushed Claude back. The rough, wooden frame of the rack dug into both sides of Claude’s spine, but the pain was largely buried under the exhilaration of having Kyousuke suck his skin.

Complementing the suction of Kyousuke’s lips were the licking of his tongue and the grazing of his teeth. Claude whimpered, raising his hand to rest it on Kyousuke’s shoulder. Not long after, Kyousuke pulled away and examined the purple mark where his lips had been.

"You don’t have to think about losing control," Kyousuke said. "I’ll take care of that."

"You can’t just —!"

Claude cut himself off with a swing of his fist down from Kyousuke’s shoulder to hit the rack behind him. To further release the tension building within him, he clenched his thighs. Kyousuke jumped, sensing Claude tensing against him and looked down between them.

He spotted the evidence that he had got Claude hard. A damp mark on the front of Claude’s light-coloured blue briefs, as unmistakable as the one colouring Claude’s chest, announced Kyousuke’s effect on him. Claude wanted to turn away and hide it along with the faint outline of the beginning of his erection stretching the front of his underwear.

"I’ve got to finish changing," he muttered.

After Kyousuke stepped aside, Claude fetched from a cupboard one of the kendo uniforms that the dojo lent out. The folds of the white top covered his chest’s mark and protected his decency and he clothed his legs in a pair of dark pants.

Without looking at Kyousuke, he tied the straps of his hakama and said, "You left a love bite."

"Uh, yeah," Kyousuke replied.

"I didn’t think you’re the type."

"Are you mad? Would you feel better knowing that I’m affected in the same way?"

"You’ve stopped before going overboard, so it’s all good."

"Really?"

Fully dressed once more in his kendo uniform, neat and fitting him like a blade’s finely crafted sheath, Claude turned to Kyousuke. Kyousuke’s big eyes, shining with hope, seemed larger and lovelier than they usually were. They kindled within Claude a warmth that he wanted to share with Kyousuke.

"Really," Claude said and folded Kyousuke into his embrace.

Claude’s personal troubles stayed clear of the testing and sharpening of his skills during his sparring session. In fact, he fought well, without leaving obvious openings for his sensei to strike at and bringing into play feedback from their last session. After their short match, he sat opposite his sensei and accepted with a humble nod compliments on his precise and agile fighting style.

They got to talking about Claude’s Crush Gear training, and his sensei asked, "Are you aiming to become the next World Champion, Claude?"

"That title’s rather large and grand for the likes of me," Claude replied.

"Not according to your friend. He said winning the Asia Cup is just the first step to taking on the world."

Claude imagined his sensei striking up a conversation with Kyousuke and Kyousuke carrying himself with absolute confidence; both being masters of their respective fields. A little smile crept over Claude’s lips which he only became aware of when he saw his sensei smiling too. Claude looked away, recomposing his formal demeanour that flattened his smile, and clutched the fabric of his hakama that covered his bent knees.

"Large as the world is, the self is at times the greater opponent," his sensei said. "Then there are those who fight the world and others to run away from losing to themselves."

Claude nodded, letting his teacher’s words sink in and illuminate the ongoing battle waged within himself.

KYOUSUKE

Claude’s childhood French friends, both in the city for a marathon, graced the premises of Tobita Club as its guests of honour. Appearance wise, the two ladies were like a lily and a rose: both had a different kind of natural appeal, yet one was just as attractive and mesmerising as the other. Lola was blond, busty and petite, while Francoise was much taller, brunette and had the long and lean frame of fashion models.

With them, Claude smiled, laughed and talked in a language that none of his teammates understood. He displayed more of his child-like side than even the senior members had seen even when they were all literal children. In undertones, two Gear Fighters who were boys in junior high speculated that Claude’s easygoing manner of carrying himself around the foreign beauties could only result from years of familiarity, and Kyousuke blocked out their talk, keeping mum the truth behind Claude’s immunity to feminine charms.

The girls wanted to try out and learn more about Gear Fighting, and Kyousuke stepped up to show them the ropes. He thought he should after learning from Lola the stories involving him which Claude had shared, and Francoise claiming that they had heard so much about him that he was practically one of the ‘old gang,’ referring to the tight-knit group of friends who grew up together in the French village where Claude used to live.

Even so, Kyousuke did not try to join in Claude’s conversations with Lola and Francoise. The three friends let loose among themselves rapid currents of French sentences splashing names of people and places unfamiliar to Kyousuke. He approached his familiar teammates instead, and was roped into taking part in their strange discussion.

Jirou asked, "Don’t you think Francoise looks like a European, female version of Kouya?"

Kyousuke squinted at the tall French girl and said, "I don’t see it."

"No one with a pair of normal eyes would!" Kouya insisted.

Jirou shook his head, took his mobile phone out of his pocket and tapped its touchscreen. Then he aimed its camera lens at Kouya and waved Kyousuke over to see what his phone’s screen displayed: a floating wig of wavy brown locks with a straight fringe and also a pair of translucent red circles overlaying Kouya’s hair and cheeks.

"What the hell," Kyousuke said.

"It’s an app with a filter for seeing what someone looks like as a girl or a boy," Jirou explained.

After getting Jirou to lend him his phone, Kyousuke walked to the side and held up Jirou’s phone to view Kouya through the app’s filter from a different angle. Behind Kouya and across the room, Francoise stood next to Claude in front of the club’s ring. She giggled with one hand covering her mouth and the other curled around Claude’s shoulder.

Kyousuke turned away from both them and Kouya to train the phone’s camera on Jirou. As the app’s filter feminised the big guy, Kyousuke sniggered. Kouya took a peek, laughed too and put his finger to the screen of Jirou’s phone. He had his fun selecting alternate features from the app’s selection for the ‘girl’ version of Jirou, changing his hairstyle to a bob and giving him an extra mole beside his nose.

The combined rising laughter of Kouya and Kyousuke clued Jirou in on what they were up to. He scowled and released hot puffs of air through his flared nostrils, looking even more comical and unfeminine.

Just when Kyousuke was about to point that out, someone’s lilting voice called his name.

Lola stood by his side, saying, "Could I borrow your Gear for a fight? Claude suggested it."

"A fight against whom?" Kyousuke said.

"Francoise," Lola replied. "She’ll be fighting with Claude’s Gear."

Kyousuke hardly ever allowed anyone to touch his Gear, let alone handle it and fight with it. Yet among the Gears belonging to the club’s fighters, none other than Dino Phalanx seemed more fitting to complement Shooting Phantom as a familiar training partner and bring to life the fun of Gear Fighting. While he imagined his creations — both masterpieces crafted from his collaboration with Claude that created their partnership anew — rushing towards each other, Jirou snatched his phone out of Kyousuke’s hand.

"Do her a favour and you might see an interesting fight you’ve never seen before," Jirou advised.

Kyousuke made up his mind, turned to Lola and said, "Sure, I’ll lend you my Gear."

"I’ll be rooting for both you and Francoise!" Kouya said, then looked at Jirou and Kyousuke. "So will you guys, right?"

"Idiot, only one of them will be fighting with my Dino Phalanx," Kyousuke muttered.

On his and Lola’s way to the ring, Lola shouted something in French. She translated it for Kyousuke, saying she just asked Francoise to pick a side to fight at. After Francoise replied in French and pointed to one end of the ring, Kyousuke and Lola entered it from its other end.

Claude was going to act as referee for the Gear Fight between his friends. To Lola, Kyousuke handed over Dino Phalanx and relayed specific tips on handling his Gear, along with a couple of maneuvers to try against Claude’s Shooting Phantom. When he was done, he looked at the opposite end, where Claude seemed to be also playing the role of personal coach for Francoise.

"I’m a little curious to know what it’s like to have a Gear Fight with Claude," Lola said. "But I know I’d lose badly to the Asia Cup Champion famous for ending his matches in a matter of seconds!"

"It won’t be so bad if you pull off a decent release. Just keep thinking of Claude as Claude, not as the champion, and picture him in his underwear."

"In his underwear?"

"I mean, like the common advice for getting over the fear of public speaking."

Kyousuke turned away from Lola and winced, reflecting on how offbeat his advice sounded. Having really seen Claude in just his underwear had influenced the flow of Kyousuke’s thoughts, as after leaving Claude’s dojo, the images of Claude stripping and standing almost naked had intermittently knocked about the confines of his mind.

He stared at Claude, taking in Claude’s pale skin that coloured so quickly under Kyousuke’s lips and teeth. In the background, the large posters of the Marino brothers, Tobita Club’s other Gear Fighter champions, allowed Kyousuke to compare them with Claude’s much fairer features. Even when Kyousuke holed up in his dark basement workshop for weeks on end, he never got any paler than Claude. The skin tone of Lola and Francoise were the closest match to Claude’s own and when he was with them, it seemed impossible to tell that they were of different ethnicities since the source of Claude’s white genes was from him being a quarter Russian with no actual French ancestry.

As if retelling his every fight with Shooting Phantom, Claude continued talking to Francoise with their heads bent towards each other.

"It’s happening again," Lola said. "KAAL."

When Kyousuke turned to her, her lips were shaped into a mischievous grin.

"Kurando And Avril Love," she said, enlightening Kyousuke on what her acronym meant.

More puzzled than enlightened, Kyousuke asked, "Who are Kurando and Avril?"

"Those are the English names of Claude and Francoise. A retired English teacher living in our village taught us for free and had us pick our English names for practising conversations. Francoise picked the name of a pop star while Claude wanted to be called by his dad’s nickname for him after the samurai whose surname is also ‘Marume’."

"So Claude chose a Japanese name to practise English conversations?"

"Yup. It’s to learn and practise explaining his Japanese background in English."

The effortful, strategic and somewhat bonkers approach did have Claude’s style written all over it.

"I see," Kyousuke replied. "And what about that, KAAL..."

He risked having his breath catch if he repeated the word ‘love’. It would give away his suspicion that when it came to the absence of Claude’s romantic interest in girls, Francoise was the sole exception.

"It’s just our little joke for when the two of them appear to be in their own world," Lola said. "The rest of our group and even some of our parents thought there was something special going on between them. But nothing like that ever happened."

Like all inside jokes, it casted a sharp clarity on who was on the outside. Still, for letting Kyousuke in on it, Lola deserved Kyousuke’s gratitude. For Claude rarely shared details about his early years living in France, even if they were overall happy, as far as Kyousuke new. In those same years and on a different continent, Kyousuke grew up with a perpetual fog obscuring his earliest memories — memories of being friendless, then motherless after his parents’ divorce.

His existence did not really begin until there was Crush Gear. Then there was Claude, and everything else that followed becoming more of a person than the machines he admired for their predictability and durability.

He had grown to accept the ways in which adopting a mechanical attitude, and insisting others to do the same, did more harm than good. Like with switching out parts in a system that no longer worked well — a quick fix for resolving many mechanical issues but useless for stopping or reversing changes potentially long, uncertain and painful which guided the system called life.

One happened to Kyousuke as a result of dismantling the possibility of living a shared future with Lan Fang. He was man enough to see how committing to it would compromise not just the smooth running of his life’s system, but also what Lan Fang built for herself. He did not want to sap her strength for setting up her school for mechanics and crafting with her teammates the promising futures of orphans like themselves. Her great aspirations called for the entirety of her boundless devotion, but her selfless nature would have driven her to sacrifice a large chunk of it to taking care of Kyousuke, more than he was capable of caring for her.

His own strengths were inadequate for eliminating the imbalance between them if he insisted on force fitting himself into a foreign environment. Both the society of rural China and the familial bond of Si Xing Hu Tuan were bound to sooner or later leave him painfully aware of his status as an outsider. Not that he fitted in seamlessly everywhere in his home country, but there he had a greater likelihood of finding an inroad into finding a place that fitted his wants and needs.

The place he chose, the university he wanted to enroll in, appealed to him not just because Claude intended to go there too. Yet since the new change in their partnership, his want to stay close to Claude grew stronger each day. It rose to a suffocating level when he observed Claude’s closeness with Francoise and imagined her bringing him back to France — a foreign place promising comfort for him in not standing out and getting unearned attention among others who looked like him. If Kyousuke followed him there, he was bound to meet disaster on a greater scale than any attempt to tolerate the lack of modern plumbing in the Chinese countryside, popular Chinese dishes containing vinegar and sesame oil that he could not stand and the futility of carrying a proper conversation with Wang Hu.

But Claude did not want Francoise. Instead, he wanted...

"Kyousuke, I’m going to start the match."

Claude’s voice brought Kyousuke’s musings to a close. Kyousuke looked up and noticed Claude standing in the referee’s position at the middle of the ring’s length.

"Took you long enough," Kyousuke complained and exited the ring for the Gear Fight to begin.

Ten seconds before the fight’s time limit, Francoise got Shooting Phantom to knock Dino Phalanx out of the ring. Once Claude declared her to be the match’s winner, Lola went to get the fallen Dino Phalanx and Kyousuke re-entered the ring to join her.

As Lola picked up Kyousuke’s Gear and stroked the parts of it that hit the ground, Kyousuke said, "Dino was glad to have fought with you."

"Oh!" Lola clasped her palm over Dino and asked, "Do all Gear Fighters treat their Gears as if they’re alive?"

"Probably not, but to me, Dino is no different from anything that lives and breathes."

"Well, in that case, thank you, Dino!"

Then Lola bent her head to land her lips on the front of Dino Phalanx’s body cover, stunning Kyousuke. While he stood with his mouth agape, Francoise appeared at their end of the ring. She spoke in French to Lola, and Lola replied in kind.

Lola turned to Kyousuke, saying, "She wants to hold Dino too."

"Go ahead," Kyousuke said to Francoise.

After taking Kyousuke’s Gear, she said to Dino, "It’s an honour fighting you, Dino. You’re as awesome as Claude described."

Another set of lips were then pressed onto Dino. Kyousuke zeroed in on Francoise’s red lips that looked like they were painted with lipstick. The thought of a red feminine kiss mark on Dino’s green body got Kyousuke’s heart fluttering and his cheeks flushing, and nowhere was his usual repulsion towards having his Gear subjected to unfamiliar acts by unfamiliar hands.

Yet Francoise had the opposite impression as Kyousuke just stared without saying a word.

Frowning, she said, "I’m sorry, I should not have done that."

"No, no!"

Kyousuke pulled himself together and said, "Dino is really lucky to have been kissed by more girls than any guy in this room. Well, more than me, anyway."

Lola smiled and asked, "Does that mean you’re jealous of your own Gear?"

"No, no way..."

"Would you like our kisses too, Kyousuke-san?" Francoise asked.

The French girls’ cheeky smiles told Kyousuke they were teasing. Resolving to also play along, Kyousuke smiled back at them.

"Dino’s an extension of myself," he said. "What he has is also mine, like for victories and...everything else."

"But you should still have your own kiss," Lola said.

She stepped closer to Kyousuke, smiling even more. Even if they were about the same height, she seemed then a giant engulfing him in her immense shadow. Rooted to the spot, Kyousuke defied his rising shyness before the French beauty as he forced out his words

"It’s okay. One is enough."

"Not for us," Lola said with a quick glance at Francoise. "It’s a matter of national pride. We’d be stingy French if we only give away one bisou."

No further protestations followed. Not like it was any hardship for Kyousuke to have a pretty girl kiss his cheek, and another one deliver to Kyousuke’s other cheek her own kiss that was just as soft and sweet. Kyousuke’s store of kisses expanded, along with his pride, as he saw himself among the few capable of attracting the kisses of both boys and girls.

CLAUDE

For utmost secrecy, Kyousuke asked Claude to meet in the club’s office. The managers had vacated it to head to the local Gear Fight Association branch for a special talk. Once Claude entered the office and shut its door, Kyousuke sat him down on a swivel chair, like he had done in his workshop, and Claude got what their secret meeting was actually for.

Kyousuke rested his hands on Claude’s shoulders and pecked both Claude’s cheeks. Claude chuckled and as Kyousuke drew back, he returned Claude’s smile.

"How’s that? Did I pull off that French custom?" Kyousuke asked.

"You’re actually supposed to just kiss the air beside the other person’s cheeks," Claude pointed out.

"Oh...your friends didn’t tell me."

The memory of Lola and Francoise getting along with Kyousuke lit up a warm glow inside Claude. Both girls adored Kyousuke, commenting that he was as cute and kind as in Claude’s stories about his Japanese friends, even before they got the news from Claude that he and Kyousuke had become a couple. Their shared elation tied a big, bright bow around their afternoon at Tobita Club, finishing a perfect day that melded Claude’s past and his present.

"They’d like you to meet the rest of the group, if we’re ever in France," Claude said.

"Are there any other pretty girls among the rest?" Kyousuke asked.

"No," Claude replied. "Just two other guys."

Kyousuke hummed. "I won’t mind seeing the girls again."

"And get more bisou from them?"

"Heh, sure!"

Kyousuke looked off to the side and laughed to himself. Then he frowned, letting his soft laughter fade and faced Claude once more.

He asked, "Are you jealous?"

Nothing like jealousy arose within Claude, yet he hesitated in replying. He did not dislike at all watching his female friends get familiar and affectionate with Kyousuke. It got him entertaining the fleeting thought of taking their place, to hug and kiss his beloved as if nothing could be more natural. Of course, doing all that right there would not go unremarked upon, in the club and in front of his juniors seeking inspiration and guidance from him.

"You don’t have to be jealous," Kyousuke said. "You’re pretty like a girl."

After hearing himself, he squinted at the air above the top of Claude’s head and said, "I mean, you’re as pretty as a girl."

"But I’m not one," Claude said.

As he got to his feet, Kyousuke stepped aside.

"I’ll get back to training, if there’s nothing else," Claude said. "I’ll see you outside."

Even if he really had to get going, before any of their teammates popped in to check on them, he reached out to treat Kyousuke’s arm to a gentle squeeze. Then Kyousuke clasped Claude’s hand, keeping it in place. The rest of Claude also went still and delayed pulling away from the invisible tug of the warmth of Kyousuke’s hand.

"There’s something," Kyousuke said.

"Yes?"

"Just tell me what I should do to get you to say and do whatever you want to me, and with me."

Images implied by ‘whatever’ flew unbidden into Claude’s mind. These were taken from the recent memory of all he had done with Kyousuke — their heated kisses, the twisting and pulling of his hair in Kyousuke’s fingers, the press of Kyousuke’s hips against his, the bite of Kyousuke’s teeth on his chest that matched the bite of the wood behind his back in his dojo’s changing room. The inside of Claude’s stomach roiled and his chest seemed hot and stuffed, like a furnace burning with a great heap of coal.

When he looked into Kyousuke’s eyes, the glint in them told him that Kyousuke had scented the smoke from the fire that his words had started.

"You don’t have to do anything," Claude insisted.

Kyousuke scoffed and said, "Funny how we’re wasting the advantage of going out with another guy. Can’t we just lay it all out and take whatever comes like men?"

"That’s only your idea of what a relationship between men would be like. I see it’s turned out different from what you think and less appealing than dating women, perhaps."

"I don’t mean — "

Claude did not have the heart to hear Kyousuke’s denial. They were in no place to get into an argument, and he tried to free his hand from under Kyousuke’s hand. Kyousuke gripped it tight before letting it go, letting Claude walk out the door with only a glance at the hurt and anger written all over Kyousuke’s face.

KYOUSUKE

For two whole days, Kyousuke saw and heard nothing of Claude. Not at school, not at Tobita Club, not anywhere along the street connecting both the factory and Claude’s dojo where they occasionally crossed paths. On the verge of going to Meikyoukan again, when he knew Claude had his kendo lessons, Kyousuke’s feet grew heavy at the thought of potentially detecting Claude’s reluctance to see and talk to him.

Compared to their other arguments, their recent one held much higher stakes. It had got more dangerous for Kyousuke to take the aggressive approach like seizing Claude then, shaking and shouting at him until he got his way. He had a lot more of Claude’s affection to lose — all of Claude’s smiles, kisses and touches that marked Kyousuke as his special one.

Thinking of losing all that, and having to content himself with his existing store of their precious shared intimacy, struck a sledgehammer’s blow to his sanity.

On the third day without Claude, Kyousuke awoke to his dad at his bedside along with a hoarseness in his throat, ringing in his ears and the wild beating of his heart. As he sat up in bed, his dad asked him if anything hurt and put the back of his hand against Kyousuke’s sweaty forehead to check for a fever. Only after sticking a thermometer in Kyousuke’s mouth and some uncharacteristic fussing, Kyousuke’s dad revealed that Kyousuke had been shouting in his sleep.

The thermometer reflected Kyousuke’s regular body temperature and the lack of a fever. Still, he stayed home and lay back down, sloughing off the buzzing ache of his consciousness to slip into a dreamless sleep. He slept so much that his head throbbed. His discomfort lasted throughout the rest of the day, which passed with him drinking some water, eating a couple mouthfuls of leftover fried rice, using the washroom, staring into space and breathing. All the while, he held onto barely a complete thought, yet knowing in his bones that he had the strength to recover.

Sure enough, when night fell, the gears of his mind resumed their tenacious whirring. He sat on the edge of the bed with his mobile phone in his hand and Claude’s contact number on its screen.

The means to deliver his voice and words straight to Claude’s ear encouraged him to call. They were no longer in the days of phones just being phones and of kids ringing each other’s homes. For those phone calls, someone else might pick up and inevitably become involved in the conversation that the caller wanted to start. Having to first introduce himself to a parent, servant or another stranger after calling the Marume residence was too high a social hurdle for Kyousuke’s younger self, even if his pride allowed him to resort to a phone call to get Claude’s explanation for leaving Team Griffon. He had also not ruled out the possibility of Claude turning down his call, and giving whoever on his end an idea of how despicable Kyousuke was.

With age, Kyousuke grew more capable of navigating Claude’s bullshit, on top of his own. He dared to start his call to Claude and press the screen of his phone against his ear.

The device’s thrumming and ringing were loaded with the straining for connection. Kyousuke’s mind replayed the turning point of Claude retreating into himself, when Kyousuke called him pretty. Lots of others had complimented Claude’s looks, but never Kyousuke, who always disliked stating the obvious. His excuse for breaking his pattern was the change that he had to remark on in some way, in the club’s office with Claude near him and his hands on Claude. There, he seemed to take in more of Claude’s essence. He had been awashed with the yearning to let it overflow, to drown in it and to hold it in his heart and hands. To get at the brilliance under Claude’s golden hair, viridian eyes and porcelain skin, and have all of Claude for himself.

He should have known better than to focus on the superficial. His error lied in shying away from unearthing the truth hidden within him, yet wanting Claude to do just that.

He heard Claude accepting his call and saying, "Hello."

"I love you," Kyousuke said.

A brief silence, then Claude said, "Kyousuke?"

"Did you hear me?" Kyousuke got to his feet, went to the window of his bedroom, slid it open and looked out over the lighted windows of other homes in his neighbourhood. "Do I have to shout it louder for you to hear me?"

"No, don’t, I heard you. I love you too."

"Okay...okay, good."

Kyousuke had to take a breather to control the wild beating of his heart. After closing his window and drawing its curtains, he sat back down on his bed, all set to unpack what Claude just confessed.

"You love me," Kyousuke said. "From when you started popping boners for me or what?"

Since getting mushy with another guy seemed too weird, he veered into crudeness, only to wince and wish to take back his words after hearing them. He thought they would not sit well with Claude, the least crude person that Kyousuke knew, yet Claude let out a cleansing little laugh.

"No," Claude said.

"Then how did you know?"

"I wanted to not only protect you, but also hit back and punish those who had hurt you. That was when you had garbage thrown at you during the Budokan Cup."

It happened five years ago, on a day marked by Kyousuke’s humiliation before a large crowd and also the debut match and victory of Garuda Phoenix, one of Kyousuke’s greatest creations. And that very maelstrom of events had turned out to coincide with the conversion of Claude’s hatred for him into love.

"Huh...it’s rare for you to get violent thoughts."

"Indeed."

"You didn’t think of telling me?"

"There was no reason to say anything. You had Lan Fang, after all."

"Yeah, and I had only liked girls."

"Exactly. And if a straight relationship turns out to be what you prefer, I understand —"

"Stop, just stop. Quit pretending like you haven’t been secretly loving me for years."

"I’m not pretending. How about you? When did you start loving me?"

"I don’t know...maybe always?" Kyousuke held in his mind how Claude looked in the old training room of Team Griffon, flooding Kyousuke’s grey world with colour and light. "I just didn’t think to call what I felt for you as love."

"I see."

"Do you, really?"

"I really do."

"Then I’d rather not say it again. If I have to, I’ll start thinking it’s not obvious enough."

"All right. You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to."

"But I still want to hear you say it. I know it’s unfair, but..."

Two drops of hot tears oozed out of Kyousuke’s eyes and slid down his cheeks. After wiping them away, he took a deep breath to smother the inexplicable melancholy gathering in his chest.

"Forget it," he said.

"It’s fine, I want to say it," Claude said. "I love you, Kyousuke."

CLAUDE

None of Claude’s other phone conversations with Kyousuke lasted longer than a quarter of an hour. Claude too seldom talked for long on the phone, aside from his catch-up sessions with his old friends living in France and when his dad was away on business trips. Since Kyousuke, like him, had eaten his dinner, they were free to talk uninterrupted into the night and discuss in detail their post-graduation plans.

In the mechanical engineering department of the university that they had chosen, one of the professors was Kyousuke’s professional contact. He had agreed to assist Kyousuke in getting a scholarship that required him to work on certain projects and take certain classes, and allowed him to enroll with lower scores for subjects in the entrance examination that were unessential for his degree.

"Basically anything with lots of writing and reading," Kyousuke said, and Claude heard the shudder in his voice.

Claude leaned against the pillows propped up on his bed, saying, "I could help you, like during our last year of junior high. Jirou’s also pretty good at those subjects too."

"Seriously trying to get good at them once is enough for taking the obligatory, tedious route for more school. Memorising the essays Jirou wrote and tweaking them during the official test took way too much work since I had to ignore the dullness of the material and engage my brain at once."

"You’re really incredible at anything you put your mind to, even if it’s nothing related to Crush Gear or machines."

"Your essays were too good, and in other words, no good for my purposes. If I put down even a line from them in my own answer, I’ll give myself away with the large gap in quality between that and what I’ve written for the reading portion."

"I hope it’ll all work out, and we’ll continue to see each other as often after moving for school."

"Yeah, I’ll keep thinking of that to motivate myself."

"We can go out to eat, visit the local Crush Gear clubs and...sleep together."

Sex was a powerful motivator for a healthy young man — Claude would know. Suggesting it introduced a nervous swooping in his gut and to get rid of it, he half-wished for Kyousuke to let the matter rest until an inevitable stage in their shared future.

"We’ll sleep together at your place, right?"

"Yes."

Claude had shared his plan to rent an apartment near the university. The greater privacy for him opened up the possibilities for his life away from his family home, especially since he could look forward to sharing his new home with the man he loves.

"We could do it without having to move away first," Kyousuke said. "It’ll be simple to figure out the logistics of staying over at either one of our places."

"I want to wait," Claude replied. "Our studies must take priority during our senior year and if we get overly distracted, our plans would not count for anything."

"How distracted do you think we’ll get?"

"I’d rather not find out, especially for your sake. I don’t want you to get fixated on —"

"Getting off? And getting you off?"

"Yes...yes, that."

Faint tendrils of warmth spread throughout Claude at the mere suggestion of those kind of activities. He thought he had better hang up before he got too hot and bothered.

"I’d be less fixated if I get some concrete data on how sex with you would go," Kyousuke said. "That will keep my imagination from running endless simulations with nothing to go on."

"I never thought of it like that," Claude replied. "What kind of data are you looking for?"

"To start with, how big is your dick?"

Taken aback by Kyousuke’s brazen advance, Claude almost dropped his phone.

He gripped the rectangular device tighter, saying, "It’s normal."

Kyousuke snorted. "’Normal’ is relative and vague. Give me specific dimensions! Exact measurements!"

"You’ll just have to take my word for it," Claude insisted.

"No, it’s important to stop guessing once and for all. Some of the supposed average sizes posted online are seriously freaking me out."

Kyousuke’s voice cracked with a little sob both worrisome and amusing. That he had searched for information on male anatomy and gay sex let Claude believe the large degree of Kyousuke’s interest in them becoming physically intimate, and got Claude wanting to please Kyousuke right back in kind.

"I’ll measure it," he said. "Tell me what you’d like to know."

He fetched a measuring tape that was part of a sewing kit stashed in one of the drawers of his study table. Before the table, he pulled down his pants and underwear to expose himself, and under Kyousuke’s guidance, he measured the length and girth of his dick.

"Right, that’s the unerect version," Kyousuke said, sounding as if he was taking notes. "What about when it’s erect?"

"...May I call you back?"

"Don’t hang up! You’ve got hard before with me around and you can do it again."

"Fine, I’ll sit down first."

Claude returned to lying against his pillows, resting his bare butt and thighs on the smooth sheets of his bed. After setting his phone to one side, he unwound the measuring tape from around the base of his cock, which he then stroked up and down. Seeing it get thicker and longer spurred him to keep going and finish, but he put the brakes on and returned to the task at hand. He tore his hand off his erection, inhaled some air and took the measuring tape to take another set of measurements. To report the figures, he picked his phone back up.

"Heh. Hehehe."

The connection resounded with Kyousuke’s chuckling, laced with a somewhat sinister undertone.

"What is it?" Claude asked.

"Our dicks are about the same size," Kyousuke explained. "For both girth and length."

"That’s quite a coincidence..."

"It is. Very convenient too for modelling what goes where, since all I have to do is look down..." Kyousuke let his words trail off for a short while, then asked, "Does that match your image of my dick?"

"I didn’t...I’ve never..."

"Yeah, right. I bet you’ve thought about how big or small it is."

"I really haven’t."

Kyousuke sighed and said, "Seems I’m not gay enough to accurately guess the contents of your depraved thoughts about me."

"Oh no, you’re definitely gay enough, as evident by your interest in my dick," Claude pointed out as he squirmed with another spike of heat keeping his erection firm. "I’m really impressed at how willing and eager you are to get into the idea of sex with men."

"What I’m into is the idea of sex with you. Because I...to you..."

"I know."

"Good." Another sigh from Kyousuke, as if he had set down an immense weight. "Are you still hard?"

"...Yes."

"I’m hard too and it’s starting to hurt. I’ve went ahead and jerked myself off a bit."

Claude sucked in his breath and wrapped his fingers around the base of his erection, imagining Kyousuke getting hard from their conversation, from everything he had Claude do. "Go on, I want to hear you."

"I want to hear you too and know what you’re doing to yourself."

"I’m just stroking it..."

"Tightly? Loosely?"

"Tightly."

"Are you going to squeeze the tip of your dick?"

"Sure, I’ll do that. Are you doing that?"

"Yeah..."

Claude gasped as he stilled his hand after stroking up his dick and squeezing its tip. Beads of pre-come had leaked from the slit which dampened his fingers. A moan travelled into Claude’s ear from Kyousuke’s end, and Claude’s dick leaked some more.

"I’m spreading the fluid from my erection all over it," Claude said, duly reporting his actions for Kyousuke’s benefit.

"Yes, do that." Kyousuke moaned again and said, "If I were with you, I’d do that for you."

"I won’t let you."

"You won’t?"

"No, if you were with me, I’ll focus on pleasuring you." Claude closed his eyes to better visualise what he’d like to do to Kyousuke in bed. "I’ll have you lie down and kiss you all over."

"All over...where?"

"Your lips, your neck, your nipples."

"Are nipples on guys actually appealing? It’s all flat without any boobs!"

"They are extra appealing if you’re sensitive there. Are you, Kyousuke?"

"I’ve no idea, let’s see..."

Kyousuke’s drawn out moan let Claude know that Kyousuke had checked, and confirmed, the sensitivity of his nipples.

Claude slowed down the strokes on his dick to say, "In between kissing your nipples, I’ll suck on them until their points get stiff."

"Oh..." Kyousuke’s breathing grew heavier. "I’d like that. My boner has never got so wet, it’s insane."

"I’ll kiss that too and lick off what you’ve leaked."

"Mmm, yes..."

More graphic details followed on how Claude sought to bring Kyousuke pleasure. He described the kissing and sucking he’d do, not just on Kyousuke’s erection but also across his hips and down his thighs. While immersing Kyousuke in their shared fantasy, Claude held nothing back, leaving his reservations in the dust to pour all his attention into detecting and acting on Kyousuke’s little sighs and moans. Almost bursting himself, he messed up the choreography of his scenario that had him biting a mark on Kyousuke’s stomach as he drank Kyousuke’s come, but Kyousuke cared not one bit.

Not long after Claude’s narration ceased, giving way to him repeating Kyousuke’s name over and over again, before he spilled into his hand.

"Claude," Kyousuke groaned. "I’m...coming!"

He finished with a whimper that showered immeasurable delight onto Claude. Claude pictured him leaning forward with both eyes closed, his glasses sliding down his nose and his pretty mouth parted to take in air, and his fingers cradling his wet, softening dick. In Claude’s own hand, his dick twitched and Claude brushed off his filthy mental image of Kyousuke with a vigorous shake of his head.

"Have you collected enough data for an accurate simulation?" Claude asked.

"Of course not," Kyousuke replied. "We’ve got far more ground to cover, and I don’t think you’ve shared all that you’d like to do together."

"No, I haven’t."

"We should do this again some other night."

Kyousuke yawned, emphasising the lateness of the hour. Claude smiled as he imagined Kyousuke getting sleepy and letting his eyes fall shut. Whenever Kyousuke fell asleep out of bed, he seemed to appear smaller and even cuter.

"I want to put you in my pocket," Claude said.

"Don’t exaggerate my size," Kyousuke snapped.

"I’m not. I meant that I want to keep you safe and warm."

Before saying good night, Claude shared all he’d do, if he were actually by Kyousuke’s side right then. Some day, very soon, he hoped to have his hands taking off Kyousuke’s glasses and pulling up the blanket covering him, his lips laying one last kiss for the day and his arms sending their warmth to sweeten Kyousuke’s dreams.

KYOUSUKE

A thorough wank always did the trick to knock Kyousuke out. But after hanging up, he lay awake for what seemed like ages. As he brushed his arm over the empty space on his single bed, which he thought large enough to fit one more person, he thought about Claude in Claude’s own home.

Claude said he was going to take a shower. Kyousuke could just see him appearing freshly clean and soft, and sliding into bed with a relaxed little smile. Everything that Claude wanted to do to get Kyousuke a long and peaceful rest, Kyousuke wanted to do for Claude too. He wanted to lie beside Claude, kiss him on his forehead, stroke his hair and hug him close.

In the nights they would share, he would hold off falling asleep right away. He would absorb and appreciate the solid press of Claude’s limbs, and listen to Claude’s breathing. And with every intake of Claude’s breath, strengthen his resolve to carve out a place for them — for Claude to let himself be seen, and loved.