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the-bar-sinister · 1 month ago

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Ungentlemanly (2933 words) by thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Mendou Shutarou/Miyake Shinobu Characters: Mendou Shutarou, Miyake Shinobu Additional Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Underage Drinking, Romance, During Canon, POV Miyake Shinobu, Miyake Shinobu-centric

Summary: Shinobu finds herself having dinner with Shutaro alone at his house while the rest of the Mendou family is on vacation. Shutaro offers her a drink from his father's collection, and he shows another side of himself.

In the little over a year that Shinobu's relationship with Ataru got rockier, and that overly pretty harlot from space showed up, Shutaro and her had gotten a lot closer. They'd started dating months ago, and somehow found themselves on double date after double date with Lum and Ataru all that time—a number of them taking her to Shutaro's incredibly opulent home. But in the time since Shinobu had known Shutaro Mendou she'd never seen the manor so empty.

It always had a bustling staff, or his sister sneaking about, or his parents 'ohoho'ing about their latest scheme—but today it was as silent as a tomb save for the occasional glimpse of a staff member out of the corner of her eye.

Her heart was racing. His parents were out with a good portion of the staff, leaving her and him alone.

A man and a woman alone in his beautiful, quiet house. Together.

He'd invited her over for dinner, claiming boredom with most of the household absent. They'd gone on some wild vacation to India apparently, and Shutaro had stayed behind so that he wouldn't miss school. Though privately Shinobu thought it might also be about keeping an eye on Ataru and Lum. It would be a simple meal, he'd promised, since the staff was so reduced.

It had been absolutely opulent, anyway. They'd started on far sides of his enormous table, like some kind of joke in a movie, but had ended up sitting side by side after they'd gotten sick of shouting down the table at once another.

She was nursing the dessert course when she finally let her shoulder rest against his with a gentle flush. Ataru and Lum weren't here right now—were they? Shinobu couldn't help her little grin as she popped the fork in her mouth again and glanced up at Shutaro for what felt like the hundredth time.

He had such a classical, and noble look to him; the pinnacle of what a handsome Japanese man was meant to look like. Sharp cheekbones and jaw, but a soft chin and delicate mouth. A high brow with arching eyebrows, and large, almost luminous dark eyes. His thick, dark hair was always kept neat as a pin, swept back from his temples. He looked like a cut out from some kind of military modeling magazine.

Of course, that was only when he wasn't moving. The image of perfection was shattered any time he got excited; whether flustered, angry, or eager. Then his hair would go askew and his delicate mouth would twist up into some absurd, intense expression that lit up his whole face.

Shinobu knew it wasn't exactly the most proper thing in the world—but she had to admit she liked that part of him more than she'd admit. Those moments when he lost some of that handsome composure were almost exciting—and he was just as handsome, even if he was also kind of ridiculous.

Maybe it was one of the things that made him feel more approachable?

He caught her eye as she looked at him, and smiled-– one of his delicate, composed smiles. "I hope dessert was to your liking."

"It was delicious, I don't think I've ever had anything half as good in any of the cafes around here!"

"I'd be surprised if you had. My mother brought some of her staff over from France, including a master baker." The smile remained on his face. Proud. Subtle. And then it changed. It grew wider. "Would you like to join me for one more course? Since it's a special occasion."

Her question about his mother's time in France died almost immediately as the rest of it sunk in. She turned to face him, careful not to bump her chest against his arm, and grinned widely. "One more course? I'm getting kinda full but, well. I'm a sucker for temptation?"

"This one shouldn't be too heavy." Shutaro chuckled and stood. He offered her his hand in a quite gentlemanly way to help her stand, but she could read the smile on his face now. Mischief.

That thrill of attraction fluttered in her stomach as she grabbed his hand and stood in a smooth motion before smoothing out her skirt.

Mischief—the same sort his sister always got up to, or sparkled in his dad's eyes—was very much alive with Shutaro. She bit her lip to keep from grinning too wide. "I'm trusting you."

"Why Miss Shinobu, you almost sound like I'm not trustworthy." He kept her hand in his as he led her from the huge dining room, through the long, mazelike corridors of the house.

"I've met your little sister, Shutaro," Shinobu drawled as she squeezed his hand a little tighter. "I know how far you can usually trust your family."

She couldn't help but tease a little bit, but honestly she trusted him a lot. They'd been through some crazy shit together by now, hadn't they? Only a year and they'd dealt with alien replicators, time travel and alternate futures, dream demons and more…and Shutaro, even with his wandering eye to Lum, was more than trustworthy.

She felt herself flushing again and walked closer, close enough that her chest brushed his arm.

Her answer seemed to amuse him, and he lifted his chin, brushing his fingers through his dark hair with his free hand as he escorted her. "Comparing me to my sister. Tch. Haven't I always been a perfect gentleman to you?"

Shutaro stopped before a door along one side of the hall, not so much unremarkable— a door with a gold handle and inlaid carvings could never be unremarkable— more that it was to Shinobu indistinguishable from all the other remarkable doors in the house.

She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder with a curious huff. "Well…You have been. Mostly. Except for that time at the beach with Lum, or that time you ran around possessed by a demon and saying nasty things about the girls in our class."

Shutaro turned rather red and a few hairs fell into his face, which he promptly pushed away.

"Well, you certainly can't hold having been possessed by a demon against me!" He coughed, and moved to open the door. "A-at any rate, here we are."

The door opened onto what appeared to be a lavish parlor or drawing room. It was huge; high walls done up in sleek and polished mahogany and bookcases filled with books Shinobu could barely even read the names of with the sheer number of languages on display. A rug clearly made from a literal, actual polar bear sat before a large fireplace flanked on either side by military uniforms on mannequins bearing gas masks and caps. Firearms hung from hooks—exotic and deadly looking polearms and knives dangling above paintings of the open sky and hanging model airplanes from the ceiling.

A fucking plane propeller and the nose of an old zero fighter jutted out over the fireplace itself. It was like the armies and air forces of the world vomited in the most classy way possible across a palatial drawing room straight out of a girl's manga.

Shinobu almost missed the large racks of exotic alcohol nestled between the bookcases, but that was exactly where Shutaro headed.

"Here we are," he repeated as he stood, admiring the cabinet. "The perfect thing to finish off a lovely dinner together."

Shinobu shook herself out of her surprise at the room to look at him.

"T–the gun?" Briefly, a scene straight out of their English class's literature segment flashed through her mind. 'The Most Dangerous Game'.

But that really was more Ryoko's kind of 'after dinner treat'. She shook her head and quickly corrected. "--- I mean the alcohol?"

Shutaro laughed, he'd apparently taken it as a joke, and he gestured at the wide array of liquors. "The alcohol, yes! It's traditional to end a good meal with a good drink."

Technically speaking both of them were well under the Japanese drinking age of 20, but that was the kind of law that almost everyone ignored anyway. And certainly not the kind of law that anyone as wealthy or powerful as the Mendou family paid any kind of attention to.

Really, when you got as powerful as the Mendou's laws were kind of a guideline rather than a strict rule. Besides, she had drinks even at home on occasion, during celebrations or swiped from her father's cabinet. Cheap sake and beer ferreted away every now and again when she wanted to feel like a rebel with the limited amount of freedom she could manage before she got another lecture about respectability.

She smiled widely. "Well, if it's traditional, I'm hardly going to say no."

"I had hoped that would be your answer." He let her hand drop finally, and ran his fingers over the brightly colored and labeled bottles. "What do you think, sake, or something more exotic?"

"It's not every day I get the chance to have something exotic," Shinobu laughed. "and I think I've had enough of my dad's cheap sake by now."

"Your taste is too good for your circumstances, Miss Shinobu. It does you credit." He winked at her teasingly. "How about a whisky? Straight from Ireland."

Shinobu felt her face heating up. It wasn't the first time he affectionately teased her about her taste outstripping her circumstances—but it flustered her damn near every time. "Straight from Ireland? What's it made out of?"

"Malted barley grain. This one was given to my father by a particular English millionaire in his military club. Whisky's what all the English and American businessmen drink." He got down the bottle– it's label looked quite faded and aged, and it bore a cracked wax seal. "It tastes quite different than sake."

"Malted barley grain," Shinobu mused as she stared at the bottle. It looked old—it was clearly old. This was something that'd go for the price of—she had no idea. Maybe an apartment for a month, knowing the Mendou family. Or more. "It does, huh? And he won't notice a little bit of it missing?"

He waved his hand, smiling brightly, that same mischievous smile. "If he was here, he'd offer it to you himself, I'm sure of it."

She had no idea whether that was true or not. Mr. Mendou… could be pretty odd.

He'd either offer it heartilly, or he'd dangle it at the end of a deadly obstacle course as the 'prize' for making it through unscathed. The capriciousness of the Mendou family could NOT be understated.

Still Shinobu grinned widely. "Alright then. I'm for it! Let's try it, Shutaro!"

A couple of minutes later and she was on the drawing room couch with him sitting quite close to her. Each of them were part way through a crystal glass filled with a generous measure of honey colored liquid poured over perfectly clear cubes of ice.

Shutaro had been right. It was very different than sake.

For one thing it was a hell of a lot stronger.

She'd actually coughed a few times when she'd first taken a sip, the sharp and heavy taste of it thick on her tongue as she fell against Shutaro. But after a few sips—and a mental note not to sip too fast—she was getting the hang of it.

The sharp biting burn of the alcohol, the heady and almost warm taste of it—it was actually pretty fantastic.

"...huh." she murmured as she rested her head against his shoulder. "This stuff's not half bad."

Shutaro had unbuttoned his jacket, and he extended his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as he sipped his drink. His cheeks were already a little bit rosier, and he hadn't bothered to push away the stray lock of hair in his face. "I've been thinking I have a bit of a taste for it."

Was she just as flushed as he was? She probably was. The drink was certainly hitting hard, and she felt warm and buzzy in her chest as she snuggled closer under his arm with a little sound that almost sounded like a purr.

"Uh oh, me too—it's probably not going to be an easy one to get more of, though."

"Well, the rarity makes it sweeter, certainly," he chuckled— a warm, rather gravelly sound. "But I might like to sample other varieties. Sometimes something apparently common surprises you with its quality."

Shinobu felt another thrum of warmth, looking up at him with a lopsided edge to her smile. "You find something like that recently? Outside of the liquor store, I mean."

Sometimes something apparently common surprises you with its quality—she couldn't help but think of herself, maybe. 'Everyday, average Shinobu Miyake of Tomobiki-cho', living in her average house with her average parents—yet.

He took another long sip of his whisky before he put the glass down on the end table beside him. All at once Shinobu found herself face to face, reflected in his large, luminous dark eyes as he cupped her cheek with his slim fingers.

"Shinobu. Please tell me that I've told you before how beautiful you are."

Her fingers curled against the cool crystal glass as she leaned her chin into his hands. Her dark, chocolate colored hair fell over his fingers as she swallowed her sip of whiskey with a shy edge to her grin. "You've told me a few times—but I do like hearing it again…"

Shutaro stroked his thumb over her jaw, looking at her with one of his intense expressions. "You're as beautiful as the moon on water, Shinobu. As beautiful as the fields in summer."

Shinobu's face heated up as she nuzzled her face against his thumb. "Shutaro…I…" She squeaked , before she pressed herself closer on impulse. "You've sure got a way with words, ya know."

"Have I? I feel lost for them when I look at you." His fingers trailed down her jaw and over her neck, sending a ticklish sensation– or something like it– blooming through her.

She let the feeling roll through her—the alcohol making it easier to push back her flustered embarrassment at being so close to her own boyfriend, enough that she let that ticklish warmth pool inside her as she looked into his eyes.

"You make me sound like a greater treasure than even that whiskey, Shutaro," she murmured. "Funny—I'm often at a loss for words when I look at you, too."

"Then let's abandon words!" The soft edges of his finely manicured nails traced her throat. "Let me be ungentlemanly with you for a moment– only for a moment!"

Shinobu knew she wasn't just flushed anymore—she was vibrant. A vibrant crimson that felt like a glow through her body as her heart skipped a beat. "....ah…ah…"

'Let's abandon words and be ungentlemanly'. The impeccable gentleman Shutaro Mendou was willing to throw that veneer of respectability aside to embrace her, to show her that he didn't think she was plain or forgettable.

She was as beautiful as the moon on water, or the fields in summer—she was a treasure, as much as his dark and shimmering eyes were a treasure in her own heart. He was a gentleman—a refined and respectable man on the surface. But she could bring this part of him out, couldn't she? She would be happy to let him be ungentlemanly—for a fleeting moment or an eternity.

She swallowed thickly, before she nodded. "Please, Shutaro, only for a moment—or as long as you want."

He didn't wait for her to say any more; didn't need her to say any more. Shutaro pulled her close to him, closer than he ever had, until there seemed to be no more room between their bodies, and he pressed his lips against hers, too, capturing her in a deep kiss that tasted like the same whisky that had precipitated it.

It was closer than she'd ever gotten with him. Even in their moments of hidden intimacy—they hadn't ever gotten close enough to feel one another's bodies quite like this. She snuggled closer, practically in his lap as she parted her lips to deepen the kiss.

His tongue intruded on her mouth almost immediately, a hungry aggressor. Shutaro hadn't lied when he said he'd abandon 'gentlemanly'-- there was nothing cordial about the kiss he gave her, or where he put his hands.

There was a thrill to it, a tingle through her body the moment his hands made contact with her body. She shivered against him, arching her body and pressing closer as she accepted the aggressive kiss, trying to match it with her own.

It was possessive, wasn't it? Ungentlemanly, a little feral—hot. It was fucking hot.

Drunk and keyed up as she was, it was easy to ignore the little voice in her head as it murmured in distress about what tomorrow would bring. How would she feel about this, breasts pressed to Shutaro's chest and hips against his lap as she kissed him brazenly while drunk on his father's booze, when she sobered up in the morning and realized just how absolutely impolite and improper she'd been? If her parents found out she'd be dead.

But that was tomorrow, and tomorrow was far away, further it seemed than the moon, when what was close was the heat of Shutaro's body, the press of his lips and the smell of his subtle cologne.

The ice melted in their forgotten drinks.

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