A/N: Reblogged a list of prompts over on my writing tumblr, and an anon asked for KumiWaki + sharing a drink, so here we are!

This is set in Spain, sometime between God and Chouzetsu.

Cool Off

"Wakiya," Rantaro is fully ready to admit he's complaining as he wipes away the sweat dripping into his eyes with his discarded jacket, "why'd we have to train outside today?"

"Stop whinin'," Wakiya says, "it ain't that hot out." Despite his insistence, he's also shed his jacket and is sporting a sheen of sweat. He looks almost worse than Rantaro feels, given how the sun must be soaking into his black t-shirt.

With a groan, Rantaro collapses into the grass and is disappointed when it's not as cool as he'd hoped. "Yes it is," he argues, "I can't go on like this." He throws an arm over his eyes, releasing his jacket from his muggy grip and letting it settle into a heap somewhere next to him. "I'm melting."

"Yer too dramatic." The eye-roll in Wakiya's voice is obvious.

Rantaro hears the soft crunch of feet on grass approaching, and then there's a nudging at his foot that feels suspiciously like it's being kicked.

"Get up."

It's too hot for that right now, so Rantaro doesn't. "We have a perfectly good, air conditioned stadium back at BC Sol," he says, ignoring the way that Wakiya continues to insistently kick at his shoe. "Several, in fact." He makes a sweeping gesture with his unoccupied arm that's meant to imply BC Sol's ample gymnasium.

The kicking pauses for a moment….

"Ya needed fresh air, that place was too stuffy."

…And then redoubles.

Rantaro thinks that maybe he should call Wakiya out on that feeble lie. It's obviously constructed to conceal whatever real reason he has for dragging Rantaro to this park, where the two of them have been 'blading for hours now.

In the end he decides that it's also too hot to puzzle Wakiya out, or even to think up a comeback. So he stays steadfastly quiet.

Wakiya, apparently, finds his lack of response unacceptable, and the toe of his boot continues to thunk repeatedly against the heel of Rantaro's shoe, jostling his leg in turn.

"I said get up! It's barely the afternoon and we still got trainin' to do."

With another, more drawn-out groan, Rantaro hauls himself into a sitting position, which finally stops the kicking. "We need a break," he announces, because they really do.

Wakiya's hands are on his hips and there's a tiny frown on his face that means he's a half-step away from not getting his way. "You've been lyin' on the ground fer ten minutes," he says.

Considering that's an exaggeration, Rantaro elects to ignore it. "Drinks!" he proclaims instead, "I need something cold and refreshing before I can go on." He stands up, then, hooking the collar of his jacket on a pointer finger so he can sling it over his shoulder.

Wakiya is still frowning, and blinking at him as though he's never been difficult about anything. "We have water here," he says, and now he's just being stubborn for the sake of it. Rantaro can tell.

"Nah, we should get something better," Rantaro insists. He doesn't bother to wait for the protest he knows is coming, instead gripping Wakiya's wrist and hauling him down the street.

"Kiyama!" And that sure sounds like the start of the outraged complaints –

– Only it isn't followed up by anything. Neither does Wakiya try to reclaim his hand.

Well! These are both good signs, so Rantaro decides not to push his luck by replying. Instead, he fills the silence of their short trip by humming some tune or other. They're only going down the road, really, to a little place that Sisco introduced him to.

"Yer skippin' out on training for this?" Wakiya asks, ten minutes later when they're back in the park, seated at a wrought iron bench, shaded by trees. There's a bright red drink clutched in his hand, condensation dripping down the side of the cup as he peers at it with an almost accusatory expression.

"It's just a break," Rantaro reminds him. "If I'm skipping out, technically you are, too." He sips from his own frozen drink, this one a pale yellow. The ice definitely hits the spot on a day like today, and he sighs gratefully, sinking down in the bench a little.

Wakiya stops watching the slush drink in his hand so he can almost-but-not-quite glare at Rantaro. "Y'need the practice more than I do," he grumbles, and something about his smug tone is…less intense than usual.

Maybe he's imagining things, but it bothers Rantaro a bit in a way that's beyond his usual spike of annoyance. "Says you," is the comeback he settles on eventually, because every other option seems like too much. "Just drink it! Then we can go practice all you want."

Fortunately, Wakiya goes back to scrutinizing his cup. "What'd ya say this was again?"

"Granizado," Rantaro informs him, more than happy to roll with the subject change. "Sisco bought me one a few weeks ago. It's kinda like kakigori."

Wakiya frowns at the beverage as though it's personally offended him, for some reason. Just when Rantaro is starting to wonder if he'll somehow melt all the shaved ice with his glare, he finally takes a drink.

"It's not bad," he says, raising both eyebrows and looking genuinely surprised. The way he latches immediately back onto the straw seems to imply that it's a little better than 'not bad', even.

Rantaro sips more lemon-flavored ice through his straw. "Told you," he mumbles, feeling a smile find its way onto his face.

"It was about time for a break, anyway," Wakiya says on a sigh, because of course now that he's accepted it, it's a good idea.

"Told you," Rantaro reiterates, sticking his tongue out unnecessarily. Yeah, he likes Wakiya and all, but it's still his job to keep him grounded - it's for his own good, really.

"Don't be a pain," Wakiya says, his mouth shifting into that crooked frown that means he's not as annoyed as he's pretending to be. "Wyvern's gonna crush ya as soon as we're back to battling."

Okay – those are fighting words, and Rantaro is not to be outdone here. Not when his bey's reputation is on the line! "You realize Ragnaruk wins half of our battles, right?"

"Almost half." Wakiya raises a pointer finger as he talks, like he's stating a fact instead of a clear exaggeration in his own favor.

"Half," Rantaro – of course – argues, "I'm just as good as you!"

"Almost."

"Who's being the pain now?!" (Wakiya. It's Wakiya, and unless he admits that he's ruining their relaxation with his difficult attitude, Rantaro is willing to pester him right back.)

"The guy who's almost as good as me!" And he says it with that self-satisfied smirk on his face and everything!

"Why you –!" Rantaro stands up with fists and teeth clenched, ready to continue arguing his point, but –

– He's derailed by the fact that his granizado is now melting onto the stone path beneath his feet, cup tipped over and forlorn next to it. The straw is still dangling from his mouth, though, and it drips remains onto his pants, which barely registers through his shock.

What does register, loud and clear, is Wakiya's laughter.

Turning away from the tragic sight on the ground, Rantaro sees Wakiya with his own granizado clutched safely in one hand as the other clutches at his stomach. He's laughing so hard he's doubled over and his face is red, which…is definitely not cute or anything like that.

"It's not funny!" Rantaro insists, but something about Wakiya's obvious glee is making his own mouth turn upwards at the corners no matter how hard he tries to convince it to be upset.

"Yeah it is!" Wakiya gets out between peals of laughter.

"No it isn't!" Rantaro says, still speaking around the straw in his mouth. "How am I supposed to cool off now?!"

Wakiya's laughter goes sporadic and intermittent until it dies down altogether, and he unwraps his arm from his stomach so he can use it to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. "I can't believe ya just dropped it." He lets out one last chuckle, shaking his head.

Huffing, Rantaro sits heavily back on the bench and crosses his arms. Chewing on his straw, he kicks at his fallen cup sullenly. "It's your fault, y'know."

"Is not," Wakiya's voice is still rife with amusement, "ya did it all on yer own."

Rantaro has more than half a mind to let that start up their bickering all over again, but the fire from before is gone, and had been mild to begin with. Wakiya's laughter was somehow sufficient to lighten his mood – even if it was at his own expense.

Still…it's really not fair that he's sitting there, looking pleased as punch as he sips on his granizado, while Rantaro's is an unsalvageable mess on the ground. Not to mention that it really is technically kind of actually Wakiya's fault, so he should make it up to him. It's only fair.

That's the line of logic that leads to Rantaro plucking the straw from his mouth so he can reach over and sink it into the slush, across from where Wakiya's is.

"What're ya doin', Kiyama?"

"Sharing," he says matter-of-factly as he leans into Wakiya's personal space for a drink.

"Who – who said ya could share?!" Wakiya's voice goes all rambling, kinda like it does when he's confronted with heights, only this time there's something other than fear underlying it. His cheeks flare up pink again and he's watching Rantaro with wide eyes.

His gaze makes Rantaro nervous, for some reason. There's a fluttering in his stomach that wasn't there a minute ago. "No one," he says, hoping his face isn't as flushed as it feels, "you just owe me for making me drop mine!"

"I told ya, y'did that on yer own!"

In too deep now, Rantaro has no other choice but to steal (share) another sip.

"Stoppit, yer gonna drink it all!"

Despite his complaints, Wakiya makes no move to pull the cup out of Rantaro's reach. His hand stays still and the drink stays poised where it is, closer to him but with enough distance that all Rantaro has to do is scooch over a bit to comfortably reach it.

Although…he soon realizes that Wakiya does intend to do something about his drink thievery (sharing), by way of having some himself, without bothering to wait for Rantaro to finish.

Like this, Wakiya's face is so close that their noses are almost touching; his eyes are too-big and too-blue and Rantaro was not prepared for this today. He jerks away, leaving his straw. It's not so much surrender as it is some kind of regretful self-preservation, but it seems Wakiya takes it as a victory nonetheless.

"Hah!" He's going for his typical smug expression, probably, but it falls a little short. Hindered by the blush on his face, as well as the way his smirk won't quite venture out of excited-nervous smile territory.

And, well, Rantaro can't just leave him thinking he's won – so he grabs for the cup and pulls it towards himself, taking as big a gulp as he can without giving himself brain freeze. "Hah!" he returns once he's finished.

But Wakiya just stares at him, wide-eyed. Or, well, more accurately, he's staring at him, and then the cup, and then back again. Which is pretty odd – or at least it is until Rantaro looks down at the cup, too.

Intent on getting the last word (drink?) as he was, he hadn't realized, but now that his mission is accomplished…apparently it wasn't just the cup he'd grabbed, because now his hand is over top of Wakiya's, keeping it in place around the plastic.

Now he's definitely blushing, too, and Wakiya seems stunned speechless.

"Um!" Rantaro unclenches his fingers, freeing Wakiya's hand. "Sorry!"

"It's fine!" But Wakiya still seems a bit distracted – until he's got the cup closer to himself where it belongs, and he looks down inside only to find a few bits of barely-colored ice. "H-hey! Ya finished it, you –"

"Well," Rantaro says, standing with renewed energy, "guess we better get back to training!"

And then he marches away, shoving his thumbs into his waistband. No matter how far he gets, though, the awkward atmosphere clings to his shoulders in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. His stomach is still all fluttery, and he can feel the ghost of Wakiya's hand beneath his fingers.

For a while, he's convinced that Wakiya is just going to let himself get left behind, wallowing in…whatever the mood between them had become. But then he hears fast approaching footsteps.

"Ya owe me another one of those!" Wakiya yells as he pulls up level with Rantaro. He matches the pace, albeit walking kind of sideways so he can seek out eye contact.

"No I don't." Rantaro feels his shoulders relax and his stomach calm as the different-but-not-bad atmosphere dissipates somewhat. They're at least back to familiar banter territory. "I dropped half of mine, remember?"

"Yeah, an' then ya drank the rest of mine!"

Okay, that's a valid complaint, Rantaro supposes. Or it would be, if you ignore the fact that, technically: "I only had half of the half that was left, so we each had the same amount!"

Wakiya's face twists into something that's almost a scowl, but not quite. He's silent for a handful of seconds as he considers. "Ya still owe me one," he says eventually.

"Weren't you the one who wanted to get back to training?" Rantaro asks, hoping to delay this particular discussion (because he's not ready to admit that he'd absolutely be willing to buy another granizado for (them to share) Wakiya to have).

"Fine!"

Wakiya stops walking with a heavy stomp, and Rantaro stops along with him.

"At least do this, then." Offering no more warning than that, Wakiya snatches Rantaro's hand from where it's resting at his waist. He pulls it closer to himself, lining up their palms and interlocking their fingers as he does. "M-my hand is cold because I could actually keep hold'a my drink."

Rantaro blinks down at their joined hands. His feet feel stuck to the ground as both eyebrows inch towards his hairline. He'd only just gotten rid of his blush, too, but now it's back.

"C'mon!" Wakiya tugs on his hand, urging him down the path and back towards the beystadium. "Wyvern's gonna get revenge for you stealin' my drink."

A/N: …This was a date but nobody wanted to admit that.

I wanted to try and portray A) how they've gotten more comfortable around each other since s1 and B) Rantaro crushing on Wakiya, since I seem to always write it the other way around. Hopefully I managed at least one of those things, uh,

I rewrote this like seven times? Kept thinking I was happy with it only to cut it apart and redo it again the next day. :'D

Thanks for reading.