The Talk

Disclaimer: I don’t own NARUTO, nor am I making any money by writing this…so don’t sue…please.

Notes: AU, modern-era, non-ninja, pre-Naruto, spoiler-lite. One-shot follow-up to Seasons and There’s Something Wrong With Him…—if you haven’t read them yet, you should. It’s a lot of fun, I promise.

…Anyways, on to the story!

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The Talk

by: Quill of Molliemon

“This is a bad idea,” Minato muttered.

“Why?” Kushina frowned.

“It just is,” he grumbled.

School had just let out for the summer a week before, and a record-setting heat wave had gripped Konoha. It was too hot to stay outside so they needed to find a place with air conditioning. But the places that they could go were limited.

It was Sunday, and with the heat wave, not many businesses were open, or would be open very long. His friends either weren’t answering their phones, or away on vacation. She said that they couldn’t go to her house because her father was home and she didn’t want to deal with him. So that left his house…

Jiraiya-oji-san said he’d be meeting with his publishers today. He should be gone all afternoon. The house should be empty.

The last thing he wanted was for his guardian to meet his red-headed love interest. Leaving his friends out of the loop had been a mistake. He’d been so caught up in carefully courting her (and because she attended a different school, so they had no idea that she existed) that it slipped his mind to tell them what was going on. But he was purposely keeping his “uncle” in the dark.

“Are you sure we can’t go to your house?” he asked.

“My dad gets edgy when I only bring one guy over to the house. If I bring a group, he’s cool, but if I bring just one he seems to think we might be dating or maybe we’re going to fool around or something stupid like that. So he hovers and he listens outside my door and he glares and it’s just a big mess.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you really want to deal with that?”

“…No,” he sighed.

“Good, so we’re going to your house,” she grinned.

They rounded the corner and headed down his street until they reached the medium-sized house that he shared with his godfather. It was a red-and-white house with a neatly-trimmed lawn and some old shade trees fringing the property. There was a birdbath in the front yard and all kinds of frog and toad lawn ornaments scattered everywhere.

“Nice place,” Kushina observed as they walked up the asphalt driveway. “Lots of toads.”

“Jiraiya-oji-san has a thing for toads,” Minato shrugged as he fished his keys from the pockets of his shorts. “There’s a lot more inside.”

He got the front door open and sighed in relief at the blast of cool air that rushed out from inside. It wasn’t just hot outside, it was horribly humid. The air was thick and sticky and sweating did no good as it wouldn’t evaporate and cool them off.

Leaving their sandals by the door, he got them some pop cans from the fridge and took her to his room. She was curious about it, and that’s where he kept his drawings and personal photographs. It was also porn-free—something he couldn’t say for sure about the rest of the house.

They settled in—he sat on the edge of his bed, she sat on his desk chair. He showed her some of the new drawings that he was working on, some of his favorite old drawings, photos of himself and his friends and explained the stories behind them, and even tried to explain some of the poems he’d written to her…with limited success. Things were going great and he really started to relax.

…This was a mistake.

“I’m ho-ome!” he heard his godfather call as he banged in the front door.

Minato flinched. “We should sneak out the window.”

Kushina crushed her empty pop can and frowned at him. “…You do remember that we’re on the second floor, right?”

“Doesn’t matter, if we just hide out on the roof for a while…”

His bedroom door swung open and a towering, white-haired man leaned in to grin at him. “There you are, Minato! They ended the meeting early because the building’s air conditioning unit melted down…and…” Jiraiya trailed off as his eyes landed on Kushina.

“…There’s a girl in your room.”

“Yes, uncle,” Minato sighed, bracing himself.

“There’s a girl in your room.”

“You said that already.”

“There’s a girl in your room.”

Minato awkwardly rubbed at the back of his head. “Um…”

Jiraiya lunged and enfolded the blonde in a fierce bear hug. “Oh thank god!” he cried joyously. “I was starting to worry that you were gay or something!”

“…What?!” Minato yelped.

The older man gave him one more good squeeze before backing off and flashing him a lecherous grin. “Heheheh, stay right there, I’ll be back in a minute!”

As soon as his uncle had left the room, Minato turned to his guest. “We need to escape while we still can.”

“I dunno,” Kushina snickered. “This is pretty funny. I mean, first your friends think you’re getting into drugs, and now your godfather is worrying about you being gay.”

“You don’t understand,” he sputtered. “Jiraiya-oji-san he-he’s—”

“I’m back!” Jiraiya laughed as he bounced back into the room with a brown paper bag in his hands.

Minato suspected that this bag was prepared in advance with how quickly his guardian had returned.

“I’ve brought a few things that you’ll need,” the older man grinned excitedly, shoving the bag into Minato’s hands. “And now, I know you’ve heard this all before, but it’s been so long you might’ve forgotten, so…” He cleared his throat and tried to put on a grave expression. “Now…The Talk.”

Minato stared at his “uncle” in absolute horror and dearly wished that the floor would eat him.

“Now let’s skip over puberty and focus on what to do with girls.”

“Oji-san, she’s still in the room,” the teen whimpered and set the suspicious paper bag aside.

She’ll hear everything. This is worse than what happened in the fall. She’ll dump me and never speak to me again!

“So?” Jiraiya shrugged. “She can learn a few things too, I’m sure.”

“There…are condoms in this bag,” Kushina muttered as she poked through the bag that Minato had put down. “…And dirty magazines.”

Oh god…I knew this was a bad idea!

“Where’s your spare paper?” Jiraiya frowned, glancing around the room. “I want to draw some diagrams…”

Kushina had pulled out a tube of dubious gel and was squinting at it.

Minato was tempted to cry.

Then a new voice piped up from down by the front door. “Jiraiya? You home?”

The white-haired man froze and muttered: “…Tsunade-hime?”

This was Minato’s chance for escape. He immediately darted from his room to peer down the stairs at the front door. Sure enough, his “aunt” was there.

“Oh hi Minato,” she smiled. “I wanted to ask Jiraiya if I could borrow his small booze fridge. My refrigerator broke down and I don’t want my milk and things to spoil.”

“Hi,” he grinned tensely. “Yeah, he’s home…and he’s encouraging teen sex again.”

The busty blonde woman’s cheery expression immediately darkened. “Is he now?”

“Yes,” Minato nodded.

“I see.” Tsunade stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “Where is he?”

“My room.”

She nodded sharply and marched up the stairs, brushed past him, and continued on down the hallway to his bedroom. When she arrived there, she found Jiraiya trying to look innocent and a red-haired girl frowning at a pair of furry handcuffs she’d pulled out of a bag. Jiraiya’s childhood friend exploded.

“Ji-rai-ya!”

“Tsu-Tsunade—”

Tsunade didn’t let him explain; she grabbed him by his long white ponytail and dragged him off.

“How dare you!” she raged. “Teenagers have enough sex on their own—there’s no need to make it worse! And sex toys?!”

“Tsunade-hime!” Jiraiya whined as he was towed away.

“Don’t you dare try and justify this!”

Minato slipped back into his room and shut the door with a relieved sigh. “Urgh…”

Kushina stared blankly at him. “…Your uncle is a pervert.”

“Yeah.” He trudged over and flopped backwards onto his bed. “He writes smutty romance novels for a living.”

“Wow…”

He heard her set aside the paper bag and then felt his bed move as she came to sit beside him.

“I think I understand why you didn’t want me to come over.”

Minato turned his head to look at her…and found that she was smiling a little.

“Maybe we should go to my house,” she suggested. “My dad will be a pain, but at least he won’t give us cherry-flavored lubricant.”

“Yeah,” he eagerly agreed. “Let’s go to your house…”