[ Claude hides his smile behind his drink. Manjiro's the same as ever, isn't he? Claude's always been the incorrigible flirt of his house -- having someone else return that energy always feels a little odd, ears going a little pink as he doesn't even bother concealing the way his eyes rake across him. ]

You know damn well I didn't, [ he demurs, though it's fair to say that Manjiro is one of the few men around he can really feel tall around. The guy's pocket-sized. ]

Gang wars and time travel, huh? [ He props his chin up on his wrist. ] Did you win?

Not quite. But if you stayed away for longer, I would. There's nobody else around to make me feel quite so tall, you know, [ Claude says with a wink, loosening up again. He's not lying on that front either; he's used to being on the short side, but being around Manjiro is refreshing for more than just that; he seems to have cleanly evaded the trappings of masculinity, with his blatant lack of insecurity about his height, his unabashed love for sweets, the way that he seems to embody himself in the only way he knows how.

And he's got certain romantic proclivities some would deem feminine back home, as Claude knows now, but he's been in polite society for too long to be in denial. People do as they please in their own time, and nobody cares much provided an heir is produced at some point. ]

...but more to the point, what do you mean decades? I can buy you're a few years older, maybe, but if I'm to believe you're in your thirties or fourties by now, I'd need to see at least one wrinkle. [ His voice may be light, but his question is a serious one. Well-preserved as Manjiro may be well into adulthood, Claude can recognize daman well that he's not middle-aged yet. ]

[ Claude just wrinkles his nose at Manjiro, though the expression is a little more cutesy than he means for it to come across as; he's never had someoene flirt quite so incorrigibly with him before, let alone another man, and he doesn't quite know what to do with it. Not when there's no ulterior motives involved.

(He doesn't think there is, anyway. He has nothing to offer to Manjiro. Not here.)

But Manjiro's next words are enough to inspire a snort out of him, covering his mouth with his hand. ] Twin girls, huh? Do they know what a bad influence their Daddy is on everyone? [ Sorry, Manjiro. That contains no sexual connotations, when and where he's from. ]

Tell me about your wife. I want to hear all about your love story.

[ Claude laughs a little, mirth dancing in his eyes. ]

Oh, a cooking competition. I can only imagine what monstrosity you made to earn her affections so -- unless she shared your sweet tooth and was wowed by, what, an ice cream sundae doused in hot fudge and sugar syrup? Maybe twenty or thirty maraschino cherries on top?

[ He'll continue winding Manjiro up for as long as he'll let him. ]

And what of your twin girls? I'm sure you dress them in matching outfits and trot them all around the local school. Straight A students, I assume. And devoted rule followers.