cunning linguistics.

Characters: Hiruma, Jyuumonji, Taki
Rated: Mature
Warnings: language, sexuality

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Hiruma snaps his gum, grinning. "Fucking beardie. I thought you said you spoke French."

Jyuumonji and everyone, but especially Jyuumonji, make sure to give him an especially wide berth this morning after practice--brisk and gray, locker room cool and steamy as they swap their gym-clothes for crisp white oxfords and pressed slacks. The air is electric, filled buzzing with the static of silence, as Hiruma buttons his shirt cuffs.

Taki, the huge idiot, flashes an uncertain white grin, stammering. "I--do, a little."

Hiruma scarcely raises an eyebrow as he straightens the hem of his blazer. He is serious fucking business today, rough and sharp, and not anybody you want to mess with. "Oh yeah?"

Taki's about to say something else when Jyuumonji grabs him by the elbow and frog-marches him up the aisle, out the door, and towards the school. He is not saying a freaking word, because maybe the idiot doesn't understand French half as well as he purports to, but Jyuumonji sure as hell does, and there were some very not nice words in there.

They're a good, safe distance away when, tight-lipped and looking steadfastly ahead, Jyuumonji decides to lay things out. "Listen, you ever see a dog get hold of a baby rabbit?"

It's at precisely that moment that the stupid bunny decides to show his claws, and furiously jerk his arm from Jyuumonji's grasp. Taki's brown eyes are huge, and there's quite a small world of hurt in there, and just maybe he's not as clueless as everyone thinks.

"You don't think I caught what he said?" Smirking, incredulous, Taki swipes a bit of invisible dirt from his sleeve. The sky behind him is warming, low clouds skidding apart to reveal cool salmon colored dawn.

Jyuumonji swallows hard, hisses at him as if there's anyone else around to hear. "He asked if you'd like to eat his--his asshole with jelly or frosting."

There is no sudden dawning of realization, no recoil. Taki smiles wryly--for an idiot--and shoots a pistol-firing gesture. "Chocolate syrup, ka-chow." Then he reaches out and drills his fist into Jyuumonji's bicep. "I know you and everybody else think I'm like the world's biggest tool, and that's fine. But I am not some helpless baby animal that needs defending. Verstein?"

Jyuumonji takes a moment to process this, then lets out a breath and calmly resists the urge to rub his arm. It smarts a surprising amount. "Yeah. Just--FYI, I think he speaks German, too."

Taki nods curtly at this, and he's off and decided to walk on his own the rest of the way towards school, hands hung from his pockets, mouth pursed thoughtfully under that sleek and immaculate fall of hair. "Yeah?" His nostrils are flaring just a little. "Well, just FYI, I was serious about the chocolate syrup."