Work Text:
For one reason or another, Nakamura-sensei occasionally delegates his duty of locking up after practice to a student. This time it's because of a staff meeting he realizes he's already ten minutes late for by the time the boy's soccer team is dismissed. The man hands Ken the storage key before rushing towards another building, leaving the students to handle cleanup without their coach.
Gekkoukan High has a large shed just off the playing field to keep all the sports equipment; it's there where his teammates go first, carrying in stacks of training cones, hurdles, soccer mannequins, and a pushcart of balls in that order. The last of these is wheeled in by Ken, who parks it between two other carts like it, just filled with different sports balls. Since the captain is always tasked with checking that the equipment is there and put away properly, it works out that he's the last one inside anyway. After making sure everything's in order, he locks up the storage shed and leaves.
The only real departure from the norm is that he needs to return the key to the staff room, which is definitely super out of his way, but he has to take the less efficient option over changing first. Club regulations were strict about the key being back on its hook in a timely manner, and that's fine by him. Ken isn't entirely up to the boisterous heckling of a bunch of high school boys packed in one room, anyway. No offense to his team—he couldn't ask for finer friends to play with, but it's been a long day and sometimes he wants to take whatever little quiet he can get.
By the time he steps inside the locker room, nobody is in there at all.
(So glad he is for the peace that he didn't notice the door hadn't completely shut behind him.)
Realizing how long that detour must have taken for everyone to have already left, he shouldn't waste any more time, he thinks. He quickly makes his way down several rows of lockers before reaching where his own is situated. Ken walks up to the receptacle, pausing in front of it to put in the combination. It unlocks, and as he reaches for the handle—
"Boo!"
While there's no verbal reaction, his bodily jolt, head whipping over his shoulder to where one Hamuko Arisato is standing and grinning at him is good indication that her scare had worked. He flushes for more than the embarrassment of being startled. "H-Hamuko-san? What are you doing here?"
"I snuck in after you."
With zero noise, apparently. What a formidable woman.
"Uh," he starts, blinking. "Why... Would you do that? Is there something you need from me?"
"No, I was just looking for you since you were taking longer than usual. One of your friends told me you had to lock up today, so I waited by the bleachers." She clasps her hands behind her back, a youthful-looking gesture. It'd come off as innocent if he didn't know any better. "But when I saw you walk in here, I couldn't help following!"
"Oh." A beat. "That's it? You couldn't wait a few more minutes?"
Her being here has to be breaking at least one regulation even if she doesn't go to this school anymore. Not that it seems to matter to Hamuko, whose head tilts two degrees left at the question. "And pass up the opportunity to surprise you? I don't think so," she remarks, cheeky.
Ken gives her an unamused look. "Alright, well. If you're done teasing me, you can go away now."
"I'll stay until you're done."
"I'm gonna change in here."
"I know." Hamuko laughs and steps closer. "Is it really that big a deal, though? I've already seen you naked."
Face immediately coloring with embarrassment, he objects, "Hey, th-that's...you can't just—" His gaze can't help avoiding her. Even though there's nobody here, her blunt nature is something he could do without right now. During the months they've been together, this sort of talk isn't anything unusual, but it's not for a place like this.
Whatever he was going to tell her about holding her tongue in (semi-)public locations goes unsaid when his eyes return to her. She'd gotten closer than he realized, standing directly in front of him now. The humor has completely vanished from her countenance during his short lapse in attention, replaced with something more adoring.
"Ken-kun," she calls him sweetly. Leaning up on the balls of her feet, she makes the effort to lessen vertical distance as well, trying to compensate for their significant height difference. Hamuko hasn't grown an inch since high school; Ken, many since elementary, a fact his past self would rejoice in. But she's definitely prettier now than she was back then. Her makeup is light, but even without it, Ken knows for a fact it would be just as easy to get lost in the features of her face. How long has he spent tracing her contours again and again.
"What?" he queries softly, chuckling in mild disbelief, or nervousness, for their proximity. Was she just that determined to fluster him? There's no way she's being serious.
...Right?
Her lips tug up to narrow eyes into impish red slits, and that's all the answer he receives. Verbally, that is.
Her hand cups his face.
Her foot steps into the gap between his.
His back meets the locker with a metallic rattle.
Hamuko presses her mouth to his, and it's no gentle peck. Her kiss is deep and intent, and though it catches him off guard, he allows her the taste she'd been wanting. Her lips are soft but there's a passion he wouldn't have expected from a spur of the moment show of affection. When Ken recovers from the shock, his hands fall steady on her shoulders as he slightly stoops to reciprocate better. She cranes her head into it, humming in pleasure before slowly parting from him. As she does, the air in this locker room suddenly makes itself more apparent as a chill over their areas of contact.
"I missed you," Hamuko confesses against his lips, and she's still close when his eyes open again.
A low, helpless exhale escapes him. "I missed you too. Sorry for being so flaky these past couple weeks."
"It's fine," she says, planting a tiny kiss on his cheek. "You're busy preparing for your exams, and Mitsuru-senpai's working me to the bone, as always." Her hand slips down, lightly mapping him all the way to his chest, where her fingers splay over his shirt. Under her palm lies his steadily quickening heartbeat. "I'm lucky I got enough time off to see you today."
"Sounds like you've had a rough time of it lately..." He smiles warmly. "Let's make the best of this, then."
It wasn't intended as an invitation to capture his lips again, but she clearly takes it that way. Only this time, he expects it with the telling glint of misbehavior in her eye, and yet he doesn't move to stop her from taking what she wants. So he'll disapprove of her making suggestive comments in public, but he'll let her do this? How weak-willed is he that all she had to do was bat her eyelashes and push him up against a wall to make him give?
He'd meant it when he said he missed her, though. He'll indulge a little in the inviting weight of her body: her toned legs trapping him, her soft chest pushed to his front, her impatient mouth requesting for entry with the prodding of her tongue. Ken obliges as one of his hands moves from her shoulder to run down her back, supporting her smaller stature when he settles at the lowest curve.
Just for a little bit, temptation croons.
It's not his fault that his pride swells whenever she's so receptive to him. That he can't help but relish in the feeling of her arms looping around his neck, clinging there so as to use him as her pillar. He reaches up to tangle fingers in her short, auburn locks, gentle as he guides her by the back of her head. The distant sirens in his head warning him that they're still on campus grounds go silent altogether when he coaxes that first moan of delight. He did love her voice. He loves everything about her, always has in the years spent fantasizing on and off again being "enough" for her, all while knowing he had a snowball's chance in hell at ever being her one and only.
Needless to say, he was elated to find out he was wrong. Neither of them had dared act on their desires, never acknowledging the mutual affection that lurked beneath roiling oceans of denial, guilt, and frustration until just three months ago. And perhaps that's the real reason her blatant want thrills him so.
True, he gets far too much satisfaction out of her pursuit. This is why Hamuko can get away with so much: at the end of the day, he'll do whatever he can to make her happy. His lips brush and stroke along hers, a sliver of a smirk upon them as he sucks on the tip of her tongue—languid, almost lazy—then he uses the diversion to dart into the cavern of her mouth. Hamuko accepts this shift in power, but not without leveraging her other options.
Her touch on the muscles of his chest, again. Roaming lower, and lower.
Underneath the hem of his jersey, fingertips ghost his skin, warm and barely dry of sweat from practice. She begins to peel his shirt off of him while they separate, Hamuko for air, Ken to stare down at her with round eyes. "What are you doing?"
"You've gotta get undressed anyway," she replies casually. Too casually, as if to pretend that was really all her intentions amounted to. "I'm just helping." It's too late for him to comfortably do anything but make the task easier for her, raising his arms so she can take off his shirt and throw it onto the bench behind her. It droops over each side of the seat, though if she'd missed, Ken wouldn't have noticed. She hogs his attention by rubbing her cheek against his collarbone—and by fitting the curve of warm thigh in the space between his legs.
His hands clutch her shoulders, holding her there. "You really are eager today, huh...? I'm flattered, but we shouldn't go any further than this."
"Awww, but I was just getting to the good part," she murmurs. The tip of her pointer finger traces tiny circles at his shoulder. "There's no one around, so isn't it fine?"
"There's no way we're having sex in the guy's locker room."
Hamuko perks up like she's a dog and he just said "walk."
"We're having sex?"
Damn, way to prove that he's getting ahead of the program. His blush intensifies, but he can't be too hung up by the slip-up, faced with her obvious enthusiasm at the prospect. Thanks to that, it's much easier to make his decision.
Only a small moment of hesitation passes before his arms lock around her waist.
"Yeah," he agrees quietly. "We are."
This gives Hamuko pause.
"...Oh!" is all she ends up saying, and he can tell she's trying to figure out how to keep up the repartee after his unexpected move.
Too slow. Her pink cheeks and wide-eyed interest linger in his mind as he closes the gap, offering a short, but tender last kiss. Content, his head turns to one side, perching his chin on her shoulder. "So you better hurry on out and let me finish here. Got it?"
Smiling, he squeezes her form to his bare upper half, then releases altogether.
His girlfriend steps back, not just laughing, but giggling at the proposition. "Aheh...can do."
"I'll see you soon."
After she leaves, Ken spares a few minutes for a cold shower.
The timespan between that incident in the locker room and their arrival at her apartment is, frankly, a little strange. On the car ride home, conversation continues as usual; however, there's an undercurrent of tension to it all that's hard to ignore. Rarely did he manage to well and truly fluster her, and he didn't think he would do it with an entirely upfront promise of his dick. He's just never been so brazen with her before. It's not an attitude he would take with her all the time, but if she liked it, then it might...not be the worst.
Considerations of what else he can do to get that reaction occupy him for the duration of the ride.
When they finally enter her humble abode (her words), in which she is the only person living there so everything in it feels like her (his words), Ken barely has the chance to remove his shoes before she's pulling him to her bedroom.
"Not wasting any time, I see," he comments, glancing down at her delicate hand wrapped around his wrist.
"Nope! We've waited long enough, haven't we?" Though she doesn't look back, he can hear the way she's beaming. Ironic that such a casual reply just heightens the expectation in the air.
Across the living room, down the hall, and into the door on the left side that opens to reveal a simply furnished room. Hamuko has never been an extravagant decorator, so very few of her personal belongings are displayed aside from essentials like her desk, dresser, and a small television. In the corner lies the single bed he's familiarized himself with over past visits; she walks over to it and plops down on the floral pink comforter.
"Now c'mere, you." Her hand pats the empty space next to her.
If Hamuko didn't intend on dragging this out, neither would he.
Without saying anything, Ken stops in front of her instead of sitting down. Standing over her like this, she looks especially small. Hamuko is the opposite of weak, but in terms of physical size, he easily surpasses her. So it is easy for him to push her down on her back, landing on the bed with a soft thump. In the next instant, his body cages her with long limbs while his hands plant at each side of her head. She shows no reaction past an inquisitive (but not displeased) expression, searching for an explanation.
Descending upon her, he nuzzles into the crook of her neck, the tip of his nose tickled with her fanned out hair.
"It was pretty careless of you to tempt me in public like that." Parting his lips, teeth drag slow and feather-light across his lover's skin. "Honestly... You're way too forward sometimes, you know that?" he gently chides, nipping at her skin to accentuate the statement. This close, the subtle hitch of her breath is impossible to miss.
"I'm not the only one," she returns. Her voice tries to hide it but he can feel the heavier rise and fall of her chest as he peppers kisses down her skin, traveling to the dip of her neckline. "Being forward, I mean. This is...quite a stunt coming from you."
"It's payback."
"That's what this is?" Amusement dances in her words. "You can call it that, but I can't say I haven't enjoyed this so far."
He lifts his head. The last thing she sees before her mouth is thoroughly claimed again is a smile nicer than he's feeling. The second her arm starts moving, presumably to card fingers through his hair or grab at his shirt, he traps her wrist to the comforter without hesitation. Her slightly quizzical hum vibrates in the back of her throat, but even so, she allows him to take the lead.
Ken certainly doesn't sense any sign of complaint from her when he's slipped his opposite hand beneath her shirt, smoothing out her stomach in one broad stroke. Then, his hand cups her breast, squeezing her pliant flesh as he contains her moans. In the breathing pauses between their kisses, she gets out fragments of sentences. "Didn't mean...to frustrate you so much...ah, but I—" When her unrestrained hand lifts from the bed, he pulls away. Their eyes lock in a shared gaze, hers half-lids as she reaches with intent. Lower and lower. "I'll make it up to you. If you'll let me...?"
Before she can take ahold of what she's looking for, though, he lets his weight roll forward from his knees up his thighs, forcing her legs further apart. "How are you going to do that?"
"I'll let you have me as much as you want."
And it's not like that doesn't sound nice, but—
"...Jeez. You're more frustrated than I am, y'know. You wouldn't have cornered me in the locker room otherwise." Which is the exact reason they're doing this now. She blinks and her coy demeanor all but evaporates. "If you want something, you should just say it outright instead of being so roundabout."
The slow, steady rock of his hips into her skirt should give her a hint; her thighs, shifting in turn, receive it. So easy to read.
Realizing this, Hamuko looks sheepish. He finally releases her wrist to join his other hand under her shirt. "Mmmm, I'm sorry," she groans out as he palms at her chest. His thumb playfully rubs a nipple through her bra. "I was just teasing, but you're right. I wanna...it's been weeks since we've done anything..." Biting her lip, she bucks shallowly, but beneath his weight she can hardly budge.
"Keep going." The woman pouts, causing a breezy laugh in him. "Come on, I want to hear it. Please tell me exactly what you want to do."
And how could she say no when he phrased it like that?
"Fine," she acquiesces. Her breath spills out in one, long stream while her hands slither to his lower back, pushing down. "...I want you to take me, right here and now." They exchange lustful sighs as his lower half presses flush to hers. "I need you inside me...please?"
Ken's response is a satisfied chuckle.
It's not as if he's one to talk about want, anyhow. He hooks thumbs around her waistband to take off her skirt and undergarments in one go, stranding the ring of fabric at her knees. Meanwhile, she only goes so far as unbuttoning his pants (but not before running her hand over the outline of his erection), unzipping his fly, and pulling him out.
She sucks in air through her teeth the second the head of his cock bumps up to her drenched slit. In the middle of positioning himself properly, he can't help but give pause, eyes widening once his fingers brush her rather slick inner thighs. "Woah, you're already this—"
"Ken-kun," she complains, her face glowing bright red, and never in his life has he ached so physically for another person. "Will you just fuck me already?"
Hamuko doesn't need to ask twice.
Her body tenses beneath him and around him to adjust to his cock, but she can take it just fine, eyes closing and mouth opening to moan pleasurably. The ease that he enters her sends a mild shiver up his spine. Hands finding purchase at her waist, he begins moving, and it doesn't take very long for them to gain a rhythm.
They've been fairly chatty up to this point. Now, all they can muster are the sounds of labored breathing and his steady pumping into her. Her wet walls surrounding his hard cock is a sensation as intensely euphoric as it is frustratingly insufficient; if the way Hamuko's arms wrap around his back to pull him close is any indication, she feels the same way. Shared body heat gathers between their remaining winter clothes, which doesn't bother him, but the barriers do make touching her take a little more work than it would have had they been less impatient.
Tactfully, his hands maneuver under her clothes or along her bare thighs, reacquainting himself with the curves of her body. So supple and smooth, he sighs, delighted. As she's said, it's been weeks since they were last able to do this, and he can't deny having missed his hands on her skin.
Hamuko expresses herself differently—her mouth busies itself at his jaw, the slope of his neck and shoulder. Sucking at the skin over his pulse drags out a breathy groan paired with a throb to his dick, and he can feel her triumph in the grin that pulls at her lips.
Finally, her hand flies up to tangle within his hair, pushing their faces together in yet another hasty kiss. Actually, "hasty" is a fitting descriptor for what this is becoming. Fingernails sink into him as she whimpers and whines and kisses him hungrily and the more eager she is, the harder it is to hold onto whatever's left of his self-control.
It's natural that their pace ramps up from there. It's messy, thoughtless, driven on pure instinct to chase the clenching friction of her cunt again and again. She crosses her legs behind him to take him in deeper, back arching off the bed, letting the deepest parts of her stretch and stretch around his thick length. He hears "please" and "god" and "Ken" —then hisses out a swear, lifting her plush ass off the comforter and ramming into her, one.
Two.
Three times.
With a half-strangled moan, she tumbles over the edge, and that's the last tether he has to reason, gone, gone, gone. Hilting his cock to the base, he spills inside of her in hot release. They're a pile of tangled, shuddering limbs and heart-pounding ecstasy for those few moments.
When it's over, he feels like gelatin. He relaxes on top of her, panting to get air into his lungs and hopefully coherence in his brain.
After a moment, Hamuko mumbles, "heavy," to which he laughs coarsely and withdraws from her. She makes a funny noise at the disturbance to her still-sensitive nerves. As an apology, he kisses her forehead before falling onto his back.
Ken checks in after some period of quiet.
"Good?"
"Very," she replies, eyes falling shut. "God, I needed that."
They wear matching tired smiles, in silent agreement to lie there and cool off for the time being.