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“Ah, yes, Chianti , an Italy-based red wine with notes of grape and woodsy hints,” Their tour guide on their trip through the winery said with a cheerful smile, presenting a dark-coloured wine bottle to their group.
“Ah, yes,” Keiji brought the glass of wine to his nose, mocking the tour guide’s smug and proud tone of voice. “Absolutely wonderful. All I can smell is alcohol. And maybe an old, grandma-esque perfume,” He said dryly, making Rintarou snort from beside him as he mimicked the way Keiji was holding his glass of Chianti .
“Don’t⎯” The tour guide opened her mouth, cutting off Kiyoomi’s reprimand towards Keiji to not ruin the trip with his sarcastic comments. Kiyoomi, of course, would like nothing more than to join him in making fun of the pretentious way wine tasters behaved, if it weren’t for Osamu. The other man had been looking forward to their trip to Italy for so long because of this pretentious tour.
“Next, another red wine. This one is called Cornas and is said to have notes of berry and chocolate,” Their tour guide informed them pleasantly, while Keiji and Kiyoomi glared at each other as they picked up their new glasses of wine. Cornas was a wine made with syrah grapes and so darkly red it appeared purple.
“Mm, smells like liquorice. No, it’s the smell of a rich woman’s Chanel bag. Wait, wrong again, it’s the smell of the crushed dreams of the middle class,” Keiji said, sounding faux-serious, his smirk sharp as he caught Kiyoomi’s eye specifically. They had a bit of a love-hate thing going on and probably always would. Rintarou had no such barrier of emotion to prevent him from cackling at Keiji’s blunt, unflinching words. The tour guide threw a distasteful glance at the three, making Kiyoomi internally lament his predicament and begin edging away from their small group.
Osamu listened attentively to their tour guide as she explained
Cornas
’ origins and the region where it was created, marking things down in the notebook Atsumu had given him before the trip. He was the only one making genuine criticisms and praises for the wine, even if it was just to himself and the small notepad.
“If you will turn your attention to our next wine. Gioia del Colle , our final red wine, is made with Primitivo grapes, which are almost exclusively grown in southern Italy!” Osamu’s eyes lit up at the tour guide’s words and he scribbled something down in his notebook quickly.
“This was one of the ones I wanted to try,” He whispered to Kiyoomi, who had come to his side by then and further away from Rintarou and Keiji.
“Yeah?” Kiyoomi replied fondly, looking at Osamu instead of the bottle of Gioia del Colle that the tour guide was holding up for show.
“Yes! It has a lower alcohol content and more acidity, kinda like a lemon. It’s pretty limited, actually, since only fifteen producers of Primitivo grapes work on the appellation where Gioia del Colle comes from,” Osamu rattled off, fascination sparkling in his eyes as he eagerly took the glass of wine and brought it to his lips. Unlike Keiji and Rintarou, who were mocking pretentious wine-tasters, and the pretentious wine-tasters themselves, Osamu didn’t care for sniffing the wine. He just liked to drink it.
“Tastes nice,” Kiyoomi commented, moreso for Osamu’s sake than his own. The wine was okay, mediocre like all the other wines he’d tried, but that was likely because Kiyoomi didn’t enjoy the beverage much. Since it was so important to Osamu, though, Kiyoomi was willing to stretch the truth a little in order to assure his boyfriend he was having a good time. Osamu enthusiastically nodded in reply, having finished off his drink, while Kiyoomi’s remained virtually untouched.
“Moving onto our next category: white wines. La Roncaia is a wine made right here our little town,” ‘Little town’ was a bit of an understatement, in Keiji’s opinion, considering the city they were in was larger than what the general size of a town was. “It is a wine made from pinot grapes and is a dry wine. It is said to have notes of stone fruit, citrus, and honeysuckle or almond. Please, enjoy,” The hostess gestured to the counter full of glasses of La Roncaia that had been changed out from the previous wine, Gioia del Colle .
“I don’t taste any flowers or citrus,” Keiji deadpanned, taking a sip of the white wine, and Rintarou laughed, nudging him in the side.
“Don’t look now, but I think Kiyo’s about to kill you. At least, ‘Samu looks like he’s having a fun time. He likes the wines,” Rintarou said thoughtfully, grinning as both their gazes fell to the other half of their group. Kiyoomi was, sure enough, glaring daggers at them, but Osamu either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the comments Keiji kept making, looking thoroughly engrossed with his wine and his little fancy notebook.
“True. I guess we’re getting something out of this trip,” Keiji hummed in agreement, taking a sip of his wine as he ignored those of the group who mimicked his movements. Some of them clearly hadn’t been able to discern his sarcasm when he was judging the wine, and they looked upon themselves as though quite assured they were in the presence of a wine connoisseur. Rintarou shook his head with another soft laugh.
“You’re really stupid sometimes, Kei. We’re getting a lot out of this trip, like quality time, and the freedom to do whatever we want without worrying about tabloids or nosy reporters or anything. Loosen up, ‘kay? You’re allowed to have fun.” Rintarou should-bumped Keiji again, some of the wine in his glass splashing to the ground accidentally. Despite the insult, Rintarou’s tone was warm, and Keiji could tell he meant every word he said.
Their tour guide continued leading them through two more white wines, three rosé wines, and three sparkling wines. Keiji made snarky comments after nearly every one was presented, giving an innocent look to Kiyoomi when he glared at them, and telling Rintarou that it was his way of loosening up. They were eventually kicked out of the winery for how loudly Rintarou had begun to laugh, aided by the alcohol in his system, and the way Kiyoomi had begun to snark along with Keiji, inhibitions gone with the breeze. Osamu pretended to be disappointed and upset, but they could tell he was pretty much tuckered out from all the wine and wanted nothing more than to go back to their hotel and eat.
—end.