The day of the picnic dawns bright and sunny, if slightly crisp. As students pile onto the bus, they are given their egg child with strict instructions to keep it whole and untouched for the duration of the day
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Tsuge added a few more coals to the blazing fire that was his soon to be barbecue. He knew that the Japanese did it different, but this was something he was sure as shooting not going to be out cultured on. As a red blooded American male, he knew the fine art of the barbecue. And that meant the cooler of meat as his feet would soon be sizzling happily in front of him.
Atsushi couldn't help it. Meat. Barbecued meat. It all smelled so delicious and it wasn't even cooking yet. He carefully kept the egg he was carrying away from the blazing fire as he stood next to Tsuge-sensei and breathed in deep. "You brought enough for me and Ryou, too, sensei?" he asked, his eyes pleading.
One of the tigers. He should have known their noses would eventually lead them to him. He knew about them and even helped tutor them sometimes. He was fond of the cat-boys (as fond as Tsuge could be of anyone since he knew better than to get attached to anyone).
"Do I? You know those eyes don't work on me. I'm no rube." He said, shifting down to one of the coolers and motioned for Atsushi to come closer. He opened it a little. Inside, sat a couple of thick juicy porterhouses. "But I wouldn't forget about you two." He might let himself be convinced to give them to the boys uncooked.
Fuji walked over to the yakiniku grill and transferred strips of meat over to the heated rails, letting them sizzle along side a few vegetables. The strips were thin, so this probably wouldn't take as long as the American grill-out going on next door.
Unlike the majority of his peers Keigo had arrived upon this trip wearing precisely five billion layers out of which he could strip depending upon whether the temperature decided to perk up or not. Within minutes of arriving his so-called child had been foisted off upon that creepy doll master in favor of seeking out less interminable company.
"Make sure you don't burn it." As with any culinary endeavors, Keigo proved himself once again to be quite the backseat chef. Even if he did accompany his arrival with a somewhat affectionate collision of their shoulders.
It was a bit like being bumped by the michelin man. Fuji turned his attention from the grill to gentle tug at Atobe's top-most layer before carefully picking up a grilled slice of onion and wafting it near Atobe's mouth. A layered onion for a layered onion, no less.
"How do these look?" he asked with a gesture at the meat.
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"Do I? You know those eyes don't work on me. I'm no rube." He said, shifting down to one of the coolers and motioned for Atsushi to come closer. He opened it a little. Inside, sat a couple of thick juicy porterhouses. "But I wouldn't forget about you two." He might let himself be convinced to give them to the boys uncooked.
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"Make sure you don't burn it." As with any culinary endeavors, Keigo proved himself once again to be quite the backseat chef. Even if he did accompany his arrival with a somewhat affectionate collision of their shoulders.
Reply
"How do these look?" he asked with a gesture at the meat.
Reply
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