Scene: "This Is a Training Facility, Not a Honeymoon Suite!"
(Continuation)
---
Location: BC Sol Training Stadium
Time: 10:03 AM – Chaos Level: Shirtless
After breakfast, Valt—ever the responsible team captain—tried to get back on track. Training sessions were lined up, evaluations to run, new junior bladers to coach. All normal.
Until Shu Kurenai showed up to the training floor.
Shirtless.
In nothing but his dark, fitted training pants and that smug, sinful smirk that screamed: I am not here to behave.
Valt turned around and nearly choked on his water.
"Shu—!!"
"What?" Shu said innocently, stretching slowly in the center of the stadium. His abs flexed. His arms gleamed with sweat he absolutely did not earn yet.
"Why are you shirtless?!"
"Flexibility," Shu replied casually. "Can't spar properly if I'm restricted."
"This is BC Sol, not a Calvin Klein shoot!"
"I can do both," Shu said, already walking toward Valt like a panther eyeing his prey.
The BC Sol trainees, huddled near the bleachers, watched with a mix of awe, fear, and suppressed squealing.
> "I can't focus on drills with that happening."
"Captain's blush is reaching dangerous levels."
"Do we need to evacuate? Or call HR?"
"Do we have an HR??"
Meanwhile, Valt was busy trying to regulate his breathing as Shu came up behind him, arms sliding around his waist, chest bare and warm against his back.
"Shu," Valt said warningly, trying not to melt. "We're supposed to be sparring."
Shu leaned in, breath brushing his ear.
"I am sparring. With my self-control."
Valt made a noise that was definitely not safe for work.
"Shu—seriously," he whispered, eyes darting to the trainees nearby, many of whom had now started watching in horrified fascination.
"Mm?" Shu hummed, nuzzling his neck slightly. "You smell like strawberries."
"Stop sniffing me!"
"I would, but then I'd miss how good you taste when you're all flustered—"
"SHU!!"
Across the stadium, Rantaro dropped his clipboard and speedily walks to the exit. "I—NOPE. I'm clocking out."
Free sipped from his thermos and watched the disaster unfold. "This is better than reality TV."
Lane stood beside Fubuki, who had turned so red he blended into the wall.
"Our sensei is… intense," Lane said casually.
Fubuki whispered, "That's our captain-in-law. Please don't get us all killed."
Back on the training floor, Valt finally turned around to face Shu, pushing him lightly in the chest. "Behave. You're supposed to help demonstrate launch techniques."
"I am helping," Shu said innocently. "My technique is to fluster you so much you get hyper-focus from adrenaline."
"That's NOT a method!"
"Then why's your pulse racing?"
Valt groaned into his hands trying not to smile at his boyfriend's silliness. "I can't do this…"
Shu leaned in one final time, lips grazing his ear again.
> "Later, I'll make sure you can't stand. But for now—let's show them how champions really train."
Valt's brain short-circuited. Again.
---
In the background, three junior bladers fainted.
Rantaro was considering retirement.
And someone—no one knew who—whispered:
> "God help us if they ever officially get married."
---
Scene: "This Isn't Neck Training, Shu!"
Continuation from the shirtless training chaos
---
Location: BC Sol Stadium – Main Training Floor
Time: 10:21 AM – Localized Catastrophe Ongoing
---
Valt stood stiff as a statue near the center of the floor, launcher gripped tightly in his hand. Shu, who still hadn't even pretended to find a shirt, was pressed flush behind him, arms firmly around his waist under the guise of "correcting launch posture."
> "W-What are you doing?" Valt muttered, already feeling his ears heating up.
"Helping," Shu said way too innocently, hands smoothing over Valt's sides—for symmetry, of course.
One hand found Valt's waist again, fingertips dragging lazily along the hem of his shirt. The way Shu's thumb brushed exposed skin had Valt trying not to flinch or squeak.
He failed.
"Shu!"
"Your stance is off," Shu whispered, chin now resting on Valt's shoulder as if that were totally normal coaching behavior. "I need you to feel the right balance."
"Balance doesn't involve neck kisses!"
"….... It might baby."
And with zero shame, Shu leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the side of Valt's neck.
Valt flinched and squeaked—yes, squeaked like a startled kitten—and instinctively elbowed Shu in the stomach. Not that it helped.
Behind them, the BC Sol trainees were combusting.
> "Did he just kiss his NECK???"
"We are too young for this."
"Is this training or a honeymoon rehearsal?"
"I came here to blade, not to question my existence."
"Someone please call the adults!"
"You idiot!!! They are the adults."
Rantaro had his face buried in his hands. "I should've joined a normal job. Like skydiving. That's safer."
Silas muttered, "At this point I think the danger comes from their proximity."
Free, naturally, was eating popcorn he didn't have five minutes ago. "I told you all—don't interrupt. It'll only make Shu worse."
Valt, trying to escape his fate, took one large step forward.
Shu followed.
Another step. Shu followed again.
"Stop tailing me!" Valt hissed trying to ignore his cheeks heating up.
Shu smirked and pulled him back into his chest, arms looping around his waist like it was his full-time job.
"I'm not tailing. I'm training you in close-quarters combat."
"That's not a thing in Beyblade!" 😑😑
"It is now," Shu murmured and placed another kiss, just below Valt's jaw this time.
Valt blushed violently, the heat rising to his ears. He gritted his teeth and tried so hard not to smile, but a small giggle escaped him when Shu's fingers playfully tickled his waist, again under the guise of "adjustment."
"Stop that," he said weakly.
"You love it," Shu whispered.
And, honestly… he kind of did.
---
In the background, someone muttered:
> "So are they officially dating or unofficially married?"
Fubuki, having seen too much, stood frozen with a trauma stare. "Captain-in-law… is suffering with a smile."
Lane nudged him. "Admit it. You shipped it before it happened."
"I didn't mean for it to become this real!"
---
Scene fades with:
Valt hiding behind his launcher, red-faced.
Shu looking obscenely pleased with himself.
And BC Sol updating their internal rulebook to include:
"No romantic neck-kissing during drills."
---
Scene: "Touch Him and You Die, Free."
Location: BC Sol Training Arena – Where Romance Goes to Traumatize Witnesses
---
Valt tried—tried—to twist out of Shu's arms, his cheeks now a permanent shade of cherry. But the arms around his waist only tightened like steel cables.
"Shu," Valt warned, barely managing a straight face, "focus. This is training."
"I am focused," Shu whispered against his ear, breath warm, making Valt nearly combust. "I'm focusing on your heartbeat. It's my favorite rhythm."
Valt rolled his eyes and groaned, but the way his lips curved upward completely destroyed his act. "You're impossible."
"I know. And yet," Shu's fingers splayed teasingly across Valt's abs, voice a soft purr, "you still let me stay in your bed."
Valt sputtered and elbowed him—not hard, but it earned a shameless chuckle from the menace behind him.
"You're lucky I like you," Valt muttered.
Shu smirked. "You love me."
Valt's ears turned red. "Shut up and launch."
---
Meanwhile, the BC Sol members had given up all hope.
> "I think I'm blind from secondhand intimacy," Silas muttered.
"They're the main characters, we're just here to suffer," Rantaro said dramatically.
"You mean survive," another trainee sighed.
"When do we get paid for emotional damages?" Lane deadpanned.
---
Later, in what was supposed to be a normal demonstration, Valt stood ready across from Free, launcher in hand.
Shu sat on the bench, still shirtless, sipping water like a cat watching mice.
"Ready?" Free smirked.
"Bring it," Valt grinned.
The match began—blades flying, sparks dancing—but when Valt tripped slightly on the edge of the mat, Free instinctively stepped forward, hands reaching out to catch him by the waist.
Bad idea.
Very bad idea.
Because that was when the temperature in the room dropped to absolute zero. Or… no. It rose—with a pressure so thick the air vibrated.
Free blinked. "What the—"
Shu was already standing.
Eyes narrow.
Expression dark.
Water bottle crumpled in his hand.
Jaw locked.
Voice cold as Arctic steel:
"Take. Your hands. Off. My Valt."
Everyone else in the room felt it.
The Death Glare.
Free, ever the bold idiot, smirked. "Relax, Shu. I was just catching him. Your precious Valt almost fell—"
"Then he should fall into my arms," Shu snapped, already stalking across the mat with the air of a man about to start a war for romance.
Valt turned, now red from head to toe, waving his arms frantically. "Shu, wait! It's not—he was just helping!"
But it was too late.
Free chuckled but took a very large step back, wisely putting Rantaro in between him and Shu like a human shield.
"I swear to God I need hazard pay," Rantaro whispered.
---
By the time Shu reached Valt's side, the only sparks flying were between Shu's unblinking glare and Free's teasing grin.
"Don't touch him again," Shu said with a calmness more terrifying than rage.
Free shrugged. "Alright, alright, relax. I'll leave the touching to you."
"Exactly."
And with that, Shu turned and yanked Valt into his arms like a precious gem, arms tight around Valt's waist and yes, another kiss landed just behind Valt's ear.
Valt groaned in defeat but made no move to get out of shu's embrace. "You're such a menace."
"And you're mine," Shu whispered smugly.
The crowd of trainees was divided between swooning, dying, and updating their will.
---
To be continued...
Next: Shu joins the team strategy meeting and subtly destroys every single male who breathes too close to Valt. Also, someone tries to invite Valt for a coffee and is never seen again.