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They went into the building and to the study, where they had quite a bit of privacy. He wondered if she knew there weren't any cameras in here. Hoshina took off his oversized jacket and draped it on the back of a chair, revealing his compression shirt underneath. He smirked as she gasped softly. He wasn’t exactly vain, but he liked her reaction. He liked knowing she found him attractive. “Do you like what you see?” he taunted before he could think twice about it. He wanted to see her reaction, to tease her.
Her face splotched with color, but she didn't miss a beat. “Yes, I do.” She motioned to the chair in an open invitation.
He hadn't expected the blunt response, since most people usually deflected. It had become increasingly obvious she wasn't most people, however, and he found he rather liked that. It made her interesting, and he wanted to learn more. He grinned wider, but before he pushed her boundaries further, he sat down obediently.
Hoshina was glad she had wanted to walk with him. Maybe he was even flattered she sought him out because neither of them could sleep, and why not have the company? It was sweet, and since he wasn’t facing her, he allowed himself a fond little smile. “I’d like to see those cat pictures when we get the chance. Maybe next time we’re hanging out in the common room for downtime.”
“Maybe,” she said, sounding…shy? “I was coloring them, too.” Her hands finally came to his shoulders, and he hummed as she merely squeezed the muscles. “Holy shit, sir, you’re solid as a rock.” He laughed, and she smacked his bicep, “Get your mind out of the gutter, sir.” Then she grumbled. “This might take a bit. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to do much.”
Hoshina continued to snicker, amused that she even caught why he'd laughed. He'd spent a long time thinking she was oblivious to her innuendos. Perhaps he'd been wrong, and she merely chose not to acknowledge them. “That’s alright. Do what ya can. This is nice.” He assured, and she huffed, muttering an ‘okay…’ before she shifted to one side and started with the bicep she hit. He glanced at he,r and her focused expression made his mouth quirk up more. Cute.
She dug and worked her fingers, slowly rising up his arm, and he went quiet as she did her thing. Instead of the constant loop his mind had been going through, he was able to redirect his focus and concentrate on her. On what she did and how she worked. He found it… soothing. Relaxing, and he knew that was the point, but this was… a luxury. Her hands moved across that shoulder in small circles and back and forth rubs, going little by little. It felt intuitive rather than any specific method.
Then she started to use the heels of her palms, and they felt warm through his compression shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary with all the friction, but then his skin tingled, and it set something off in his mind. “Are ya…” She slowed, making a questioning hum. “Yer spiritual, aren’t ya? Yer usin’ energy. Ki.”
“Ah… huh. You could feel it?” She asked, pulling her hands back.
“You can keep doing it.” Hoshina stated in a rush so she wouldn’t stop, and she settled her hands on his shoulder again. “I was just surprised. It’s not a common practice. A lot of people don’t even believe in it. It's one thing to be sensitive with yer senses and surroundings, but physically applyin’ it is different.”
“If kaiju can fire energy beams, I’m pretty sure Ki is real.” She humphed, and her fingers dug into the muscles once more. The odd thing about all this was it didn’t hurt when she did it. While purposeful, she was surprisingly still gentle. “Is it helping?” She asked softly. “I never got to put it to any use until I joined and was able to use the suits.”
“Is that how you’ve been able to keep up with Ichikawa?” Hoshina asked, amazed. “Yes, it’s helpin’ quite a bit.”
“Ah, yes, in a way. I purposefully kept a few points behind him, but if I’m in a situation where I need to boost myself, I’ll do so. I got to eighteen on the mission while he jumped past twenty. At this point, I don’t think I need to worry about being seen as a freak of nature.”
“Ah, that ya did.” Hoshina mused. He briefly made a little groaning noise as she pressed into a spot he didn’t know ached. He cleared his throat. “It’s good.” He promised, voice a little gruff. “Keep at it. This probably shouldn’t go on for too long, though. We do need to sleep eventually.”
She chuckled lightly, and her journey across his shoulders continued. “Are you fussy about your hair, sir?”
“Hoshina.” He told her firmly. He probably shouldn’t allow her to drop his title or the formalities, but… they were alone, and it was private. “Why? Wanna touch it?”
He heard her clear her throat behind him. “Ah… I… wanted to try and massage your neck while I’m at it. To be honest, I could probably do this better if you were lying down, but that’s out of the question.”
“I guess the floor is too cold.” Hoshina tapped his chin. “No, I’m not that fussy about my hair. Do what ya want.” As long as she kept touching him, he really didn’t care. It was comforting and kept him calm instead of spiraling into madness thinking about Kaiju No8.
“Are you really considering lying on the ground, sir?” She asked, amused.
“Hoshina, and yes.” He chuckled and looked over his shoulder at her. She stared back at him, gaze intense, and it stirred something inside him. Her eyes were so beautiful and a lovely color. He didn’t get close enough to his fellow officers to ever notice. Sure, they only had the dim light from the moon, but that didn’t take away from them.
“Would you lie against the table instead, Hoshina? Keep your arms relaxed on your lap.” She asked, voice a little quieter.
Fuck. He shivered beneath her fingertips, and she tightened her grip in response. His name on her tongue sounded sinful. He leaned forward and put his head on the cool surface of the table. This allowed her far more access, and he closed his eyes to focus on his breathing. That simple thing shouldn't have been nearly as charged as it had been, and his pants should not be tight right now.
Her hands rubbed up and down his back on either side of his spine. Slowly, her thumbs worked circles into the same areas, starting as low on his back as the chair allowed, thumbs on either side of his spin,e and she moved her way up. Already turned on, he made little ‘mmph’ sounds and soft groans. She didn't stop or comment, but he could hear her breath shifting behind him. It felt way too good.
The silence and teasing were killing him. “I've never had anyone come looking for me fer a midnight walk before. I gotta say, that and now a massage?” He grunted as she bade the opposite shoulder to do her bidding. “Ya know how ta… ah, make a guy feel special.” Ah, he realized his accent was slipping out worse than before. Her touch worked more magic than he realized.
She tensed; he could tell by the stutter in her movements and the little extra pressure. “Thank you…” she murmured, “I’ve been told the opposite before. That I'm inconsiderate.”
Hoshina felt his hackles rise, and he huffed, conflicting feelings rising about being glad someone was dead from a kaiju attack. “Yer here now.” He grumbled. “None of that matters anymore.”
She hummed in reply, her fingers creeping up his neck. “You’re right.”
Her fingers tickled the small hairs of his neck and rubbed against his scalp. He positively melted against the table, his eyelids fluttered, and he practically purred aloud like a cat. “Ah… hmm…” This was… divine. When she got to the point where he would have to turn his head, he pushed off the table and tipped his head back, giving her full access. She obliged, scratching his scalp with her nails lightly, and rubbed behind his ears. A miracle his gooey brain didn’t melt out of them, really.
Slowly, she made it to his face where she rubbed his temples, then down against his jaw. She circled from his chin to his cheeks, to his forehead, and along his nose. He’d never had a face massage before, how intriguing. These motions repeated a few times before she slid down his neck to his collarbones and back up his shoulders.
Quickly, he grabbed her wrists, anticipating her pulling away. “Stay a moment.” He murmured, dazed and feeling like some imaginary weight had been lifted. She stepped forward, and he pillowed his head back against her breasts. Her hands remained respectfully where he’d caught them.
He realized then that he would have to do things himself, to show what he wanted. Maybe then she would take action. So he did. He slowly moved her hands down over his collarbones and pectoral muscles.
“A bit of a role reversal to have me massage your chest, sir.”
Oh, she knew exactly what she was saying. He'd been a fool to think otherwise. A shudder ran through him, unmistakable beneath her palms. His grip on her wrists loosened, fingers sliding away entirely. Permission. An invitation.
She took it.
Her hands moved now she'd been given the opportunity. She traced the defined lines of his pectorals, thumbs brushing over the fabric covering his nipples. He made a choked sound, barely audible, his head tipping further against her pillowy chest. The column of his throat was exposed, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Ya don't…" His voice came out strained. He knew he started it, but-
"I know." She kept her voice low, soothing. Her fingers mapped the ridges of his abs through the compression shirt, tracing the grooves. "Do you want me to stop?"
"God, no." The words tumbled out before he could catch them. His accent thickened, vowels drawing out. "Please don't stop."
Her lips quirked, and she slid her hands back up, kneading like she'd been doing to his back and shoulders, fingers digging into his pecs. "Begging me already, Captain?” she teased against his ear, breath hot as her thumbs brushed over his nipples more deliberately.
His breath hitched, sharp and sudden. The title from her lips made heat coil low in his gut. "That's-" He cut himself off with a grunt as her thumbs circled again, more purposeful this time. His hands flew back to grip the edge of the table, knuckles white. "'m not-" The protest died as she kneaded deeper into the muscle. His head rolled to the side, cheek pressing against her. "'s hardly beggin'." The words came out weak, unconvincing even to his own ears.
A tremor ran through his shoulders. He could feel every point of contact between them. Her chest against the back of his head, her hands working his chest, the warmth of her breath against his ear. Too much. Not nearly enough. "Ya keep that up…" He swallowed hard, throat clicking. "Gonna make me-" He didn't finish. Couldn't. The flush crept higher up his neck, ears burning. His thighs tensed, trying to shift in the chair without making it obvious how badly he was already straining against his pants. The compression of the fabric was almost painful now.
"Gonna make you… what? Do something irrational?" She cooed, her fingers trailed up back to his shoulders, then she ghosted them across his biceps, down his forearms until she reached his hands. "If you want me to get in front of you, let go." She was encouraging while also giving him an out. He could hang onto the table for dear life, and she'd take the hint to let him breathe and stop. If he let go, then they both knew where this was headed.
His fingers flexed against the table edge, grip loosening incrementally like it physically pained him to make the choice. The war played out across his face - jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut, breath coming shorter.
Then his hands released.
They hung in the air for a heartbeat before dropping to rest on his thighs. Surrender. His head stayed tilted back against her, throat working as he swallowed. "Please." Barely a whisper. "Whatever yer gonna do, just… please." She moved around the chair, slowly, giving him time to object. He didn't. Instead, his eyes opened, pupils blown wide, purple irises nearly swallowed, and tracked her movement. When she knelt between his legs, his breath punched out of him. "Fuck." His eyes squeezed shut again.
"Look at me." She waited until he obeyed, until those hazy purple eyes focused on her face. "Are you sure?"
"I want to." The words came out fervent, almost pleading. "I want this. Want you. Just…" He swallowed again, throat working, accent thick enough to drown in. "Might not last very long. Been a while."
Her hands slid up his thighs, and he jolted as if she'd shocked him. Even through the fabric, she could feel the tension coiled in every muscle. She worked her way higher, deliberate, watching his face the entire time. The way his lips parted, the shallow breath. The desperate focus in his gaze like he was trying to memorize every detail. She took his hands and placed them on the edges of the chair to give him an anchor.
Then she trailed up over his hips to caress his sides, smoothing up over the compression shirt and then around to his abs, where she thumbed and ghosted across the dips and valleys. Then she traced the edges of his belt, her head tilted curiously as her silent question, peering up at him through her lashes.
His whole body went rigid, muscles locked tight under her touch. The hands she'd placed on the chair gripped hard enough that the wood creaked. For a moment, he couldn't speak, could only stare down at her with something close to desperation. "Yeah." He finally choked out, barely audible. He nodded, quick and jerky. "Yeah, go ahead." His hips shifted restlessly, the evidence of how badly he wanted this clear as day. "'m sure."
She unbuckled it. The metallic clink sounded obscenely loud in the quiet study. His zipper followed, and as she pried open the flaps of his pants, the heavy weight of his cock pushed forward, twitching under the fabric, and there was a clear damp spot on the front of his boxers. She focused on the shape of him as she rubbed over it, and she listened as a punched-out sound vibrated in his chest. The muscles in his abdomen contracted, and her free hand rubbed at his Adonis belt. Her thumb dipped into the groove that made the V of his hips. He was so responsive, and she loved it.
A strangled noise caught in his throat, half-moan, half-whimper that he tried desperately to muffle. His head tipped back, exposing the full length of his throat as he swallowed thickly. His hips jerked up involuntarily when she squeezed next, and he cursed under his breath. The flush had spread down past his collar now, disappearing into the compression shirt. Sweat beaded at his temples. "Can't - can't think when ya-" The words fractured, lost to a sharp inhale as her thumb traced the wetness.
His hands on the chair shook, knuckles bone-white. One hand lifted, hesitated, then settled feather-light in her hair. Not guiding or pushing, just touching like he needed the contact. Like he needed to ground himself before he flew apart completely. "Please." His accent had dissolved into pure need. "Please, I need-"
She parted and reached through the folds of his boxers, and her gaze met his leaking cock when she freed him. He was gorgeous like this; undone, vulnerable, completely at her mercy despite being the one in command of everything else in his life. The trust in that made her heart warm. Her eyes peered at him from beneath her lashes again, and her hand squeezed his hip before sliding down to his thigh. "I'm going to savor you." She murmured as her other hand on his dick gave him a slow stroke up toward the mushroom head, where she rubbed her thumb over the tip to spread his precum over his skin. "The massage doesn't stop just because I'm touching you here, sir." Her lips moved forward, brushing over the side of his shaft in the same slow glide her hand had taken.
The sensation of her lips against him tore a sound from his chest he'd never made before, high and broken and absolutely wrecked. His whole body shuddered, thighs trembling on either side of her. The hand in her hair tightened reflexively before loosening again, like he was fighting every instinct. "Sayin' things like that…" Breathless, barely audible. His head rolled forward despite himself, needing to watch, pupils blown so wide his eyes looked black. The way she looked at him, the deliberate slowness, it was torture. Perfect torture.
"Fuck…" His free hand pressed against his mouth, trying to muffle the ragged breathing, the bitten-off whimpers. Every muscle in his abdomen jumped and flexed under her touch. He was already so close, wound tight from months of wanting, from her hands on him, from the sheer intimacy of being seen like this.
The sounds he made spiked down to her own core, and she shuddered now, too, rocking on her knees as her hips rolled. She licked across the tip of his cock and listened to him whine. Their great Vice-Captain, sitting here in the dark with her, shaking like a leaf and whining. A great man was still a man. "You're not allowed to cum yet, sir," she ordered him, just to see how well he could hold onto the edges of his control. She didn't want this to end before it began.
With that, she steadied his cock with one hand, braced against his thigh, and started the slow, torturous descent all the way down, until her lips touched the edges of the fabric of his boxers. When she felt him try to buck, she instinctively pulled back about halfway, and she squeezed the base of him in warning.
The command hit him like a lance through his gut. His teeth sank into his fist hard enough to leave marks, a muffled keen escaping anyway as she took him deep. “Holy shit-” Every muscle in his body locked up, fighting the overwhelming need to thrust, to move, to chase the perfect heat of her mouth.
When she squeezed him in warning, he froze completely. A shuddering breath punched out of him, ragged and desperate. "Sorry - 'm sorry-" The words tumbled out broken and slurred. "Tryin' - tryin' so hard-" His thighs were shaking badly now, the effort of staying still clearly costing him everything. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes from the overwhelming sensation, from holding back. His hand in her hair trembled, petting clumsily like he needed to touch her, needed her to know how good she was making him feel, even as he fought tooth and nail not to finish. "Please-" He didn't even know what he was begging for anymore. "Please, I'll be good, I'll - just don't stop-"
His 'I'll be good' prickled her skin and made the back of her neck heat up, her core clenching and throbbing around nothing. She moaned around him and gently placed her hand over his in her hair, encouraging him to grip around her ponytail where she had more hair to grab onto. Then she wrapped her fingers around what she couldn't reach with her mouth and stroked there as she started a steady rhythm, bobbing her head. Her tongue rubbed and massaged the underside, even swirled around the head a few times, before she dove back down and kept going.
The moment she moaned around him, his composure cracked. The vibration shot through him like lightning, and his hand tightened in her ponytail, not pulling, but gripping hard enough she could feel the tremor in his fingers. "Oh god," The words broke into a strangled whimper he barely managed to muffle. His hips jerked again, smaller this time, like his body was moving without permission. The dual sensation of her mouth and hand working together had him gasping open-mouthed, the hand over his face doing nothing to hide the desperate sounds anymore. His free hand clutched the chair so hard the wood groaned. "Can't - 'm not gonna - please, I can't-"
Sweat rolled down his temple. His whole body was wound tight as a bowstring, thighs shaking, abs flexing with each ragged breath. When her tongue swirled around the head, he actually whined, high and broken. "'m tryin' - tryin' so hard not to - but ya feel so - fuck!" His accent was completely gone, dissolved into incoherent fragments and bitten-off pleas.
She didn't torture him by stopping. Instead, the hand on his thigh squeezed encouragingly while she pushed a little farther, hollowing her cheeks and stroking a little harder. She even did a little 'mmhmm' for good measure in case he didn't catch the physical cues. While he'd fallen apart around her, she kept rocking her own hips against nothing, her uniform too hot on her overheated skin. Every sound he made turned her on even further, and her abdomen tightened with want and need. So close, they were so close…
The permission, the encouragement, shattered what little control he had left. His whole body went taut, back arching off the chair. The hand in her hair clenched tight, and he tried, desperately tried, to warn her. "'m - shit - 'm gonna-"
The sound that tore from him was helpless, quickly muffled as he shoved his fist against his mouth and bit down hard. His hips stuttered up once, twice, as he spilled into her mouth with a violence that surprised them both. The hand in her hair held her close by reflex, trembling with the effort of being gentle even as his body shook apart. He came for what felt like forever, pulsing and twitching as she worked him through it.
When it finally subsided, he went completely boneless, slumped in the chair, gasping like he'd run a marathon. His hand loosened in her hair, sliding down to cup her face with devastating gentleness even as his whole arm trembled. "Holy… fuck…" Barely a whisper, absolutely wrecked.
When he came and splattered across her tongue, she moaned hard around him, squeezed her thighs together, and rode with him through it. Her body twitched and shook in a mirror to his own. As he came down and softened, she pulled off with one final little suck to make sure he was clean. She held his hand against his face so he could relax his arm, her other cheek resting on his thigh as her ragged breathing slowed. She hadn't expected to orgasm with him, but that whole scenario had taken them both by surprise.
He stared down at her with glazed, unfocused eyes, struggling to process what just happened. The realization hit him slowly. The way she'd shaken, the sounds she'd made, how she was still catching her breath against his thigh. His thumb stroked over her cheekbone, trembling. "Did ya-" His voice was absolutely destroyed, raw and wondering. "Did ya just… from that?" He didn’t quite believe it. Heat flooded through him again despite the boneless satisfaction weighing down his limbs. The idea that she'd found pleasure in this, in him falling apart for her-
He made a soft, overwhelmed sound, and his other hand joined the first, cradling her face between both palms. No words came. He just stared at her as if she'd rearranged his entire understanding of the world, chest still heaving, hair disheveled, completely undone in every possible way.
"Hoshina…" she whispered when he grasped her face in both his hands. She was pretty sure she saw blood on his knuckles out of the corner of her eye. He looked at her in a way that made her chest tight. She hadn't felt like this in years, and she wanted to kiss him, but wouldn't that cross a different kind of boundary? "Can you… help me up?" This was a nice spell, and it felt a shame to break it.
"Yeah, yeah, c'mere." His voice was still wrecked, Kansai accent still thick. He shifted his weight, spreading his thighs wider to make room, and tugged her up with gentle insistence. His arms were still shaky, but he managed to guide her to settle sideways across his lap. The moment she was situated, he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. He tucked her against his chest and just… held her.
His face pressed into her hair, and he exhaled long and slow, feeling her warmth seep into him. "Thank ya." He whispered against her temple, voice slurred with exhaustion. His thumb stroked absently at the base of her skull. "That was… I don't even…" He couldn't find words big enough. His heart was still racing under her ear, gradually slowing.
She'd made a soft squeak when he put her in his lap and hugged her, but the longer he held her, the more she melted, and her eyes began to droop. Her cheeks warmed at his words. "No need to thank me." She murmured. "We should go back to our quarters sometime soon." She definitely made no move to leave him. Safe. She felt safe here in his arms. "Can't fall asleep here."
"Mmm." A noncommittal hum vibrated through his chest. His arms tightened fractionally, like the thought of letting her go was physically painful. "Just… gimme a minute. Legs don’t wanna work yet." Entirely true, though he was also in no rush to move. His hand kept up that idle stroking through her hair, soothing for both of them. The study was quiet except for their breathing, slowly syncing up. He could feel exhaustion creeping in at the edges, warm and heavy. Dangerous. "Ya make it real hard ta wanna move when yer all soft like this." The words came out drowsy, unfiltered. His cheek rested against the top of her head. "A few more minutes won't hurt. Then I'll walk ya back proper. Promise."
"Mm." She nosed deeper into him, soaking up his affection. "Then I leave myself in your capable hands, Captain." They definitely needed to talk about this, but that could wait for another time.