Sensei
fic index
warnings: not yet listed; read at your own risk
For the first time in more years than Neil wants to count, things are a lot simpler than he thought they would be.
Once Graham has the idea of teaching Neil to waltz, he has to follow through, because Graham is like that. And because Graham is like that, he includes Lyle in the lessons as a matter of course. In the first fifteen minutes thereafter, the twins discover another of Graham's basic principles: he can't just teach one thing.
Waltz leads to tango, which leads to salsa, which leads to a messily wonderful group shower after most of a morning spent whirling around Homer Katagiri's ballroom. Lyle, in all innocence, asks if this is how Graham teaches martial arts. Graham chuckles.
"I've never taught martial arts to a lover before," he answers thoughtfully, "but now that you mention it, I think I should like to."
And that is how Neil and Lyle end up in a room with paper walls, holding wooden swords and being gently manhandled. Neil suspects that Graham doesn't teach his classes quite like this. For one thing, his official students are probably more numerous, and for another they're probably more clothed. But apart from the fact that he doesn't begrudge the twins their matching silk panties, Graham is requiring an unprecedented level of formality, which he gets from Neil by asking and from Lyle by bribing him with kisses.
They learn quickly. As soon as Neil sees Lyle get something right, he knows how to do it himself, and vice versa-- at least if they pay attention, and they do. Graham seems to realize this, and instead of teaching everything to one twin, he bounces happily between them like a serene and fluffy ping-pong ball.
He talks constantly, often lapsing into Japanese for a few words, then translating as an afterthought. Sometimes his babble is relevant, and sometimes he veers off into the same tangents and sidetracks that always seem to waylay him at the dinner table. Neil and Lyle learn the rudiments of kendo, and also a little bit of history and a little bit of architecture and a little bit of a dozen other things that happen to cross Graham's mind.
Mostly, though, they learn Graham: his endless supply of smiles, the warmth of his hands guiding an arm here or a leg there, his infectious passion for all the warrior arts. When he taught them how to dance, the main point was to have fun, and whatever they learned along the way was secondary; now, he makes sure that they get everything absolutely right, and all the fun they have along the way is testament to Graham's phenomenal teaching ability. And to the fact that Lyle likes hitting people with sticks, especially when they hit back.
Lyle learns that Graham doesn't mind letting him bruise himself on somebody's sword as long as he pays attention. Neil learns that it's easy to do well at this, and easier to enjoy it, and those two things together are one of the many keys to Graham's heart.
If Graham learns anything, he's unprecedentedly quiet about it. Neil suspects, though, that when the lesson is done and Graham leads them both back to the shower, there's something more than exuberance in Graham's cheerful suggestion that they tackle karate next. Lyle perks up, lured by the prospect of more bruises. He also gives Neil's hand a casual squeeze, communicating wariness. You might translate that brief contact as: he's on to us.
I know, Neil answers with a kiss to Lyle's shoulder, wrapping an arm around Graham's waist and leaning into him so as not to appear neglectful. His fingers brush his brother's cheek: But I think it's all right.
Graham hugs them both, oblivious to their silent conversation, and distributes kisses all round. Lyle is too cautious to raise a fuss about his suspicions. He snuggles up to Graham's side instead. "Count me in. More ways to get the shit beat out of me by my darling brother? Fuck yes."
"And you, Neil?"
He offers Graham a warm smile. "I'd love to."
"Then," Graham says happily, "it's settled." Neil kisses him in celebration; Lyle adds a festive grope. Graham laughs and herds them both into the bathroom.
Discretion from Graham. Who'd have thought it? More to this man than meets the eye, Neil thinks, watching those delicate-looking hands turn on the water-- but then, he's not exactly one to talk.
warnings: not yet listed; read at your own risk
For the first time in more years than Neil wants to count, things are a lot simpler than he thought they would be.
Once Graham has the idea of teaching Neil to waltz, he has to follow through, because Graham is like that. And because Graham is like that, he includes Lyle in the lessons as a matter of course. In the first fifteen minutes thereafter, the twins discover another of Graham's basic principles: he can't just teach one thing.
Waltz leads to tango, which leads to salsa, which leads to a messily wonderful group shower after most of a morning spent whirling around Homer Katagiri's ballroom. Lyle, in all innocence, asks if this is how Graham teaches martial arts. Graham chuckles.
"I've never taught martial arts to a lover before," he answers thoughtfully, "but now that you mention it, I think I should like to."
And that is how Neil and Lyle end up in a room with paper walls, holding wooden swords and being gently manhandled. Neil suspects that Graham doesn't teach his classes quite like this. For one thing, his official students are probably more numerous, and for another they're probably more clothed. But apart from the fact that he doesn't begrudge the twins their matching silk panties, Graham is requiring an unprecedented level of formality, which he gets from Neil by asking and from Lyle by bribing him with kisses.
They learn quickly. As soon as Neil sees Lyle get something right, he knows how to do it himself, and vice versa-- at least if they pay attention, and they do. Graham seems to realize this, and instead of teaching everything to one twin, he bounces happily between them like a serene and fluffy ping-pong ball.
He talks constantly, often lapsing into Japanese for a few words, then translating as an afterthought. Sometimes his babble is relevant, and sometimes he veers off into the same tangents and sidetracks that always seem to waylay him at the dinner table. Neil and Lyle learn the rudiments of kendo, and also a little bit of history and a little bit of architecture and a little bit of a dozen other things that happen to cross Graham's mind.
Mostly, though, they learn Graham: his endless supply of smiles, the warmth of his hands guiding an arm here or a leg there, his infectious passion for all the warrior arts. When he taught them how to dance, the main point was to have fun, and whatever they learned along the way was secondary; now, he makes sure that they get everything absolutely right, and all the fun they have along the way is testament to Graham's phenomenal teaching ability. And to the fact that Lyle likes hitting people with sticks, especially when they hit back.
Lyle learns that Graham doesn't mind letting him bruise himself on somebody's sword as long as he pays attention. Neil learns that it's easy to do well at this, and easier to enjoy it, and those two things together are one of the many keys to Graham's heart.
If Graham learns anything, he's unprecedentedly quiet about it. Neil suspects, though, that when the lesson is done and Graham leads them both back to the shower, there's something more than exuberance in Graham's cheerful suggestion that they tackle karate next. Lyle perks up, lured by the prospect of more bruises. He also gives Neil's hand a casual squeeze, communicating wariness. You might translate that brief contact as: he's on to us.
I know, Neil answers with a kiss to Lyle's shoulder, wrapping an arm around Graham's waist and leaning into him so as not to appear neglectful. His fingers brush his brother's cheek: But I think it's all right.
Graham hugs them both, oblivious to their silent conversation, and distributes kisses all round. Lyle is too cautious to raise a fuss about his suspicions. He snuggles up to Graham's side instead. "Count me in. More ways to get the shit beat out of me by my darling brother? Fuck yes."
"And you, Neil?"
He offers Graham a warm smile. "I'd love to."
"Then," Graham says happily, "it's settled." Neil kisses him in celebration; Lyle adds a festive grope. Graham laughs and herds them both into the bathroom.
Discretion from Graham. Who'd have thought it? More to this man than meets the eye, Neil thinks, watching those delicate-looking hands turn on the water-- but then, he's not exactly one to talk.