Title: test drive
Author: sllebswap
Characters/Pairing: Kinokuni Nene and Kuga Terunori
Type: OneShot/Drabble Collection (InComplete)
Genre: Romance/General/Humor
Word Count: 1856
Rating: T (Contains content not suitable for children)
Disclaimer: Shokugeki no Souma belongs to Tsukuda-san.
Summary: In which he teaches her how to drive and usual shenanigans applies.
Verse: Canon Divergent AU/Post Canon/Passive Aggressive verse
Chapter Last Revised on: 12/12/18
"I still cannot believe that you never learned how to drive," he was muttering in the passenger seat beside her. "How does that even work in this day and age? Aren't you the one who learned all the nonsense skills like artistically sticking a bunch of flowers together while stuck in the most physically uncomfortable position possible as well as five hundred and sixty different ways how to poke a man with a sharp pointy stick, but you never learned how to drive?"
She sent him a long, flat stare, irritated by his bitching. This was going to be a long, unbearable session, she could tell already.
"I never asked you to teach me in the first place so if you're going to be like this, you can get out and I'll ask someone else to help."
Terunori crossed his arms before his chest and glowered at the unappreciative woman. She was seriously very uncute; sometimes he wondered why he found her oddly fascinating all the same. She was like that weird, maddening itch he couldn't quite make go away; it was immensely aggravating at times. Luckily he knew to keep his unflattering opinion to himself, or else he would have been even more peeved to learn that she pretty much found him just as annoying, too.
"Ask someone else? Who? Your kind and considerate ex-husband?"
She continued to stare at him in a rather unimpressed manner. Everything about him was loud and flashy and unnecessarily confrontational. He was also full of swagger, capricious and temperamental; she disliked noisy, hotblooded men like that.
"You're the cattiest little man I've ever met," she announced in that aggravating, passive tone of hers, and then they were glaring daggers at each other.
"And you're dating this catty little man so I wonder what that says about you, anesan," he sniped back. They glared at each other some more, now both utterly cross after this mandatory daily gratuitous mashing of each other's grumpy buttons.
"So, are we still gonna do this, or what?"
She wanted to glower at him some more, but stoically turned her gaze forward instead, recomposing herself with admirable effort and schooling her features. He was infuriating in the way that he always breached her barriers with his sheer obnoxiousness whether she wanted him to or not. All those years of self-cultivation and learning how to remain calm and tranquil from chado and calligraphy sure were coming in handy now, dealing with this childish brat.
"I'm doing it with or without you."
"Seeing that it's my car we're sitting in, obviously I'm coming along for the ride. Guess that makes me a driving instructor, now." He gestured vaguely at the dashboard and the various controls of the Maserati. "You know what all these are and what they do, right?"
She shot him a brief side glance, before slowly setting her hands on the steering wheel.
"Yes. I read the orientation booklet."
He leaned over, reached across her, grabbed her seatbelt and clipped it on for her.
"Then you should know that the first step is to wear your seatbelt, lady."
She continued to watch him with that uninspired poker face, her expression not changing even when she had been startled by his sudden proximity.
"…I could have done that on my own."
He looked at her from behind his bangs and smirked a fanged, feline smirk. "And where's the fun in that? I personally like my learning to be very hands-on."
She finally reacted to his teasing drawl, and pinched the insides of his wrist before he could start putting his hands elsewhere. He swore and jerked back, hissing like a scalded cat.
"Ow!"
She pointed at him primly. "Keep your hands to yourself."
He shook out his stinging appendage and scowled disgruntledly at her. This was not the first time she had warded him off like that.
"Oi, what do you think you're doing to your driving instructor? I demand respect!"
"Perhaps this driving instructor should respectfully stop flirting and start instructing."
"Who says that I'm flirting with you? I'm just that friendly with everyone I meet, don't ya know?"
She caught herself almost scoffing, which amused him to no end because that was how he knew he had her.
He lounged back in his seat and put on his own seatbelt as well.
"Let's start. Is your foot already on the brake pedal? Keep it there when you switch on the engine. Once you're ready, release the handbrake and put your hand on the gearstick-"
His instructions were clear enough, and between the two of them, they soon managed to get the car moving.
"Hey. Don't stamp on the accelerator like that. Don't stomp on the brakes abruptly too, come to think of it. Your passengers, namely me, will not appreciate it."
"Stop glancing at your feet. It's an automatic transmission so it's not like you need to clutch in or anything. Keep your eyes on the road. And you're too tense. Relax."
She had expected a lot of snarking and snideness from him, but surprisingly enough, that was not the case. He tapped the back of her hand.
"You're listing off to one side, lady. Use your spatial awareness to correct yourself."
She was driving very slowly, easing the vehicle forward around the empty training circuit as she got her bearings. The luxury coupe was an extremely responsive machine, which in turn made it considerably difficult for a beginner like her to control. Her nervousness grew too, having to be responsible for such an expensive car.
"Kuga."
"Hm?"
"How angry will you be if I damage this car?"
She kept her eyes firmly peeled on the road, but she could sense him turning his head to stare at her, all the same.
"Why? Are you intending to crash us straight into a divider or something?"
"No."
"Then it depends."
"On?"
"How willing you're gonna be to use your body to repay me."
She jammed on the brakes. Thankfully, she wasn't driving very fast in the first place and he had his seatbelt on. If not, he might have smushed face first onto the windscreen.
"Oi, what the heck?! I told you not to jump on the brakes like that!"
She glowered at him, righteously offended. "I'm not sleeping with you in exchange for driving lessons."
He scoffed. "Who's sleeping with who? I never asked you to do that." He sounded almost insulted, indignant, even.
As if he needed to stoop to bargaining to trade for sexual favors. Who did she think he was? The number of exes he had was enough to line a city block!
She turned her head mechanically and stared at him. Silently demanding an explanation. She was very good at that, he was quickly realizing. Probably due to all that extreme weirdass formal etiquette training she received as a kid.
He rubbed the back of his neck, exasperated.
"My parents are flying in to spend Christmas, so I need you to do that thing you did the last time my mom came."
Her brow silently lifted. "That thing I did? You mean, continue to pretend to be your doting girlfriend?"
He shot her an 'are you shitting me' look. "Really? That was you being doting back then? I sprained my wrist and you also nearly threw out my back. Please be less doting this time, I don't think I'll survive your tenderness, darlin'."
She frowned at him, doing her level best to ignore his sarcastic endearment.
"You think you're in any position to make demands?"
"I know I am. Do this for me and I'll personally guarantee that you earn your driving license, dammit."
Her gaze grew even sharper, from behind the warning glint of her prudish glasses. Her voice was light, cool, crisp. "What did I say about swearing, Kuga Terunori?"
For fuck's sake, she was such a schoolmarm. Ever since she became his ad hoc housemate, he found himself involuntarily transforming into an upstanding, model citizen, much to his bewildered horror. No more swearing, no more late-night drinking and raucous partying - it was early to bed and early to rise. The apartment was fastidiously spick and span at any given time of the day, somehow he had also learned to sort the laundry by color for the first time in his life, and even the trash was neatly separated into their various categories by the time garbage collection day rolled around; what even was going on.
Coincidentally, that was also probably why his mom liked her so much.
He leaned towards her again. Bringing his face up to hers. Meeting her crimson gaze with his own catlike cognac gold ones.
"Why? Are you going to pull me out of the car and pin me to the floor again? Tsk, you really are such a violent woman, despite that demure appearance indicating otherwise."
She was also kind of…interesting, he had to reluctantly admit. She seemed plain and passive at first glance, but there was something about that unyielding, steel backbone, that implacable resolve sitting unwaveringly firm on that elegantly aristocratic, doll-like face that was not like any other women he had met. She had also never tried to be deliberately charming or coquettish or appealing ever, and he didn't think he had seen her attempt to make herself more palatable in order to please anyone. That quietly defiant side of her was probably her only charm point, as far as he was concerned, anyway. Other than that, she was bossy, forceful, irritating, and always had to be right. It was immensely aggravating, that righteous level of rightness she always insisted to be on.
Nene blinked, slowly. Was he trying to intimidate her?
"My actions are a direct consequence of your incredible insufferableness," she replied with serene dignity.
She lifted one hand from the steering wheel and calmly met his forehead with her palm, pushing him back onto his seat.
"And stop breathing on me, you buffoon. I'll agree to do as you asked, on the additional condition that you drive me wherever I need to go for the next one month."
There was a promising ryokan that had just been listed and looking for a new buyer, but it was a bit out of the way in the mountains and she needed transport. He would be just as good as any, with the additional advantage of being incredibly business savvy and experienced to deal with this sort of transaction.
"Buff-" he spluttered in disbelief. Was that any way for anyone to ask for a favor? "Excuse me; do I look like your personal Uber chauffeur?" he demanded. "Have you any idea how busy I am with the number of restaurants I'm currently managing?"
"You've worryingly short legs for a chauffeur," she retorted blandly, and just like that, his eyes flashed like those of a bull that had just caught sight of a matador's furiously red cape. He also looked like he was seriously considering reaching over to throttle her, it was strangely amusing.
It was also almost cute, how he quickly puffed up.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT-"
::owari::
Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:
Felt like giving some love to this rarepair, so I did! I probably am only one of two people shipping these two, so sometimes I feel like Curiosity wandering around Mars beeping for signs of life, but it's okay! I shall wander this desolate shipscape singing to myself if I have to, wahaha!
Anyway, this little piece belongs to Passive Aggressive verse. If you require more context, please go read that fic!
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Anesan refers to 'older sister,' because technically Nene is a good five months older than Terunori, though I doubt she appreciates being addressed as such by him…which is probably why he does it to irritate her, lol. (Anesan is also apparently a common term for the yakuza to address their Boss's wife…which is fitting considering my hc for Terunori's family!)
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Also, I always wondered why the usually levelheaded and pokerfaced Nene takes such glee in poking at Terunori about his height in canon. I like to think that she finds his reactions amusing…possibly even cute~
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Characters' ages in this installment:
Kuga Terunori: 25 y.o.
Kinokuni Nene: 25 y.o.
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Your reviews make me update faster; so please leave a comment if you like this fic!
-sllebswap