Playground Games

December 2015

Amy was flying home for the holidays.

Naturally, she and Army rushed to make the most of the time they had left together. The whole past month was a blur of dates, dinners, cuddling, drinking, clubbing, sparring, and ruining sleep schedules with sex- so much sex. She ended every night in Army's bed; Carmen could have charged her rent.

But, inevitably, there had to be a last date. Her flight was in three days, and she needed the rest of her time for housekeeping- taking a leave of absence from the league, arranging storage for her things until her return in February, things like that.

They started their day at the Rodriguez Gym, because Army had been putting off his work there for a little too long, and Carmen was getting impatient. Amy played with the kettle bells in one of Army's spare tees while she waited, and, whenever she caught him looking her way, she flashed a bright smile, and, if no one else was watching, a quick boob.

When he was finished, Amy changed into a white crop top, distressed black jeans, and a black velvet jacket. They made their way to the Kyoto aquarium, where, between exhibits, Army slapped her ass so hard and so suddenly that she yelped, the sound of which echoed through the cavernous tunnels and frightened the school children in front of the shark tank.

Then they went to the Kyoto International Manga museum, which… was actually kind of interesting, and they were too into it to mess around. But then they went to the Kyoto Botanical Gardens, where Amy shoved Army into a women’s bathroom stall and gave him half a blowjob- half, because he didn’t exactly get to finish. Long after he'd gotten fully erect, but long before he was close to cumming, Amy stopped, patted him lightly on the cheek, rinsed out her mouth, and waited just outside the restroom, where she got to enjoy the frustrated look on his face when he emerged moments later. But frustrated was fine- it was an investment for later that night. Sex is best when there’s 95% affection and like 5% utter loathing.

Chess, it wasn’t. But it was so much fun. So fun, in fact, that they forgot to eat lunch.

It was four now, and the couple sat at a bench beside a large play structure. The park was nearly empty; Amy, finished with her burger and working slowly on her fries, sat with her cheek against a fist and watched as the last few people- a group of elderly men- made to leave.

"Okay," she said suddenly. "You've got a fatal disease, but fucking one of those old dudes over there will save your life. Which one do you bone?"

As Army sat beside Amy, gnoshing away on of the longer fries he'd found in the box, he couldn’t help but stop and reflect on just how weird his life had become.

This was not where he'd expected himself to be around this time in his life. He'd been bred for boxing - pretty much literally - and he thought he'd be going the traditional Rodriguez way, the same way his cousins and father and uncles had gone. He had the right pedigree, the right potential, the right training to go fairly far in the boxing world, and he was on the fast track to do exactly that...until he came to Japan.

It was only supposed to be a little temporary thing, working with the AFW, but the place had grown on him. Now, he was well out of teens and wasn’t sure if he’d ever go back to the original path. Everyday, he saw more and more reasons to stay right where he was, and one of those reasons - a big one - was sitting beside him right now.

It had been a long, great day with Amy, one of many long, great days he’d had with her before. If there was one thing he’d learned about her, it was that she liked to move - it was hard to get her to stay in one place for long. So it was no surprise that she was going home for the holidays, He didn’t much like it, but it was no surprise.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Amy asked him a very ‘Amy’ question. His first worry was that, maybe, the old dudes would pick up on them talking their way, but he remembered that he was a big Puerto Rican with a red and black Tension shirt and long jeans, and she was the blondest, whitest thing for miles. They already stood out.

”Shit, that is a tough one.” He took a quick gulp as he studied the old dudes, not wanting to speak with his mouthful, even though he already had a bit. After a moment to ponder this harsh, philosophical question, he made his decision. ”The biggest one, with the bowler hat on. The smaller guys look a little frail, you know? If I gotta do it, I go with someone who won’t have a heart attack. That’d be a shitty way to die.”

He reached over and gave her a quick flick on the shoulder, right before he went to plunder another fry. ”Your turn, pretty girl.”

Amy watched her boyfriend take his sweet time with the question. He studied the candidates intently, turning his options over in his head one by one, acting as though her stupid question was one worth taking seriously. Amy grinned and leaned into Army’s shoulder. What a dork.

Then, when he finally gave his answer, Amy laughed out loud. “Dude, you’re dying. Do you really have the time to be thinking about the other guy?” But she put a hand on Army’s knee and gave an affectionate squeeze. She more than liked his response; she was impressed. AFW fans were quick to boo the big foreigner, and, best she could tell, his opponents usually didn’t very far beyond trash talk; not a lot of people got to see this side of him, and it was kind of a shame, because Army was actually a really good person.

She hadn’t been thinking about the other person at all, so her responses seemed pretty self-serving in comparison. She nodded in the seniors' direction. “See the one there in the white jacket? He looks sort of nervous; I think I'd be able to get him to nut in like 5 seconds.” She took another fry. “Him, or the guy carrying the picnic mat- he looks the richest.”

Army shook his head, sounding disappointed, though the smirk on his face clearly indicated otherwise. ”Five seconds? Such a waste, so selfish. I mean, yeah, it’s a life or death matter, but you could at least draw it out a little. He’s saving your life, give him a minute or two.”

He reached over and patted her thigh, before digging back into the fries - it took him a moment to find the next one, had to search a bit for it with his big, clumsy fingers, but he locked on one soon enough and freed it from its paper prison.

On a whim, he turned his head enough to bring his lips to her, getting his nose all tangled up in her hairs. Not that he minded, of course - he liked the way she smelled. And looked. And sounded. And...pretty much everything, really.

”I’m gonna miss this.” He sighed, letting his hot breath fall over her, gently nuzzling her head. ”I mean, I know it’s not forever, but…” He kept telling himself that, over and over, but the tone in his voice had some waver to it all the same. He’d gotten so used to her, the idea of Amy-free world was hard to picture.

"Aww." Amy burrowed in under Army’s arm so that it was draped over her shoulders, then she wrapped her own arm behind his lower back and squeezed. She looked up at him. “It’ll fly by, I swear. First, Christmas- boom. Then New Year’s- boom. We’re gonna be Skyping the whole time, you won’t even get a chance to miss me before Valentine’s Day rolls around.”

She disengaged from the side hug and reached over to hold his far hand, but there was a fry in it.

Amy tried to assume an annoyed expression, but there was no holding back her effervescent grin. She didn't mind, really- she was comfortably full, and she liked sharing food with Army. But she grabbed the paper bag and held it behind her back and away from Army’s pilfering fingers anyway. She stood up on the bench, stepped over Army’s legs, then sat high up on Army’s lap, her legs dangling along either side of him.

"You know what I won’t miss." Her eyes stared directly into his, sparkling with mischief. "Getting my food stolen all the time. Dude, I told you two orders weren’t going to be enough."

Then, because pointlessly antagonizing Army was one of her favorite things to do, she snatched the fry in his fingers and promptly ate it.

Amy’s words helped put a smile back on his face, along with her intense cuddling skills. She had that ability, could always get a grin out of him no matter what. Still, as sure as she seemed, there were some lingering doubts in the back of his head. He’d never done the long distance thing before - never met someone he’d want to do it with. Skype was nice, when it worked, but could they really stretch it so far?

Niggling thoughts, ones that could wait for a while. He had a hot blonde sitting in his lap to contemplate, which brought him to Reason #431 That Amy Was the Most Awesome Girlfriend: her lightness.

She had a good, toned body, but she was never uncomfortable for him, definitely now as she stood up and straddled his waist. She was just big enough, just the right size for him, like she was made to be a perfect fit. As she settled in, a hand reached up and rubbed her hips without him even thinking about it. His body knew what to do in this situation.

Then that same hand started to creep for the bag behind her back, trying to see if he could get at it.

”It’s a Puerto Rican tradition, just trying to throw a little culture your way. What, you guys don’t share like this up in the states? Savages, man.” He kept a straight face throughout, but it was most definitely not a Puerto Rican thing. He was curious if she’d buy it. Probably not.

”And I’m calling that last fry, pretty girl, so get that thought out of your head.” He leaned forward and tapped foreheads with her, as his hand kept creeping upwards. ”Unless you want another baseball incident...”

Army sure as hell did.

There was a conspicuous eye roll- “Right. Culture. From the guy who lived in Japan for over a year before eating his first piece of sushi.”

Then there was a knowing smile, one that morphed into barely suppressed laughter as his hand slid furtively along her hip, up her side, around her back. Did he think he was being sneaky? The voice kept deliberately even, the eyes insistently trained on hers, the hand paced at a calculated crawl… at his best, Army usually was about as subtle as a semi-truck. Amy found it kind of cute, actually.

She pulled away, her hand around the back of Army’s neck an anchor, the picnic table’s edge a brace. And Army leaned in, his chest pushing against her torso, and his forehead against her own; pressing the attack, just as expected. The hand continued its climb up her arm, past her shoulder, past her elbow; Amy bit her tongue. And when his intrepid fingers crossed her wrist, she entwined her fingers with his and laughed right into his face. The bag gave a happy crumple from behind his head, having somehow teleported to her other hand since he’d seen it last.

There was a lot to digest in his taunt. First of all: last fry? Amy gave the bag a quick shake to verify, and, sure enough, just one fry responded forlornly from within. Okay, note to self: this food stealing thing might be an actual problem. She didn’t mind so much today, but if she was really looking forward to eating fries, this would have been an issue.

Then there was the whole baseball thing again. Army didn’t exactly rub her face in it every chance he got, but he definitely made sure that she never forgot how their first fight (that didn’t get called due to sudden sex) ended. He kept their (“My,” Army would insist, a cocky glint in his eye. Fucker.) baseball in a place of honor in his bedroom, sitting pretty on a shelf among his Gundam models. And if Amy ever really got on a roll with her trash-talking after, say, a hard-fought victory on his wii, Army could shut her down with a sigh and a pointed glance toward the display case.

Because there just wasn’t a comeback to that. It was simply an established fact in the history of their relationship. Army’s ball.

Amy bit her lip. Amy’s typical response to a Baseball reference was to jump his bones, and her growing lust had her rationalizing away her personal rules against public sex. The park was empty now, and this neighborhood would only get emptier as the afternoon marched into evening…

Finally, the last piece clicked. Why was he bringing up the baseball thing now? It sounded like…

Amy pulled her forehead away from their scrum so that she could see his whole expression, an incredulous smile growing on her face. “Are you saying…?”

Army had a little burst of laughter at the sushi thing - she wasn’t wrong, no, but he had to add a little on to it. ”Okay, okay, that’s true, but come on,” He held up a finger. ”Sushi’s, like, the complete opposite of everything I’ve eaten growing up. My tongue has to adapt first, can’t go in cold to that sort of thing. A little slack.”

His smile, always present to some degree when she was around, grew a bit stronger as they leaned in and she let his words sink in. If there was one thing he’d learned since meeting her, it was how to press her buttons in just the right way, and he knew just which one he was hitting now.

Of course, the same could be said in reverse - Amy could work him like she had a manual. But that just made it all the more fun on his end.

The point was, he knew Amy, and he knew she was, among many other things, competitive. Any excuse for them to fight or fuck - or both - was a good one. She knew where he was going, and she was totally down.

He tapped their foreheads together, then looked about the playground. They were relatively alone - nothing but the birds, the squirrels, and some jogger off in the distance. As long as they didn't go too long or get too loud, they’d not have to worry about the police coming in and making an extremely awkward arrest. The playground gave him so ideas, too. Nice, large structure, in pretty good shape. Looked a bit like a castle for kids. Pointy roof, high off the ground. Jungle gyms, a little bridge connecting the two parts, a roof with a spiral…

“How about…” Her rolled his tongue over his teeth. ”First one to the top wins.” Army pointed to the tiptop of the playground, the highest point. ”King of the Mountain. Or Queen. Equality and shit.”

Amy followed his gaze. The playground was a pretty good size- clearly built for children, but she could probably scurry around its innards without too much trouble. Except for the steel handrails that ran alongside the stubby staircases here and there, the structure was made entirely from cheery blue and yellow plastic, designed to be completely safe so long as it was being used for its intended purpose. There were plenty of ways to access the second story, but the only way to get to where Army was pointing, the roof of the highest tower, was to climb up the outside. In a race, Army wouldn’t stand a chance. But it wasn’t just a race.

Amy had to do an exhausting of coaxing to get Army to try, say, a new food. But Army was plenty adventurous- sometimes downright creative- when it came to fighting or sex.

Amy turned to face Army again. Army was still analyzing the playground, but that was fine; it gave Amy a private, intense moment to study and admire Army’s face in profile. Behind those playful dark eyes lay a dangerously inventive mind. Fucking hot.  

She stood up and hopped off of the bench before he could catch her staring. “Empress. Or, you know what, King’s fine. King Amy.”

The bag went on the table, then her jacket went on top of the bag to protect it from the wind. Then Amy stepped away from the bench and started to stretch her shoulders. She wished she were wearing shorts; jeans were the right choice for the weather, but it wasn't the best for fighting in. And, since the two of them ended up doing something similarly stupid on like a third of their dates, she really should have known better. At least she was wearing sneakers.

She switched arms. “First to the top wins and gets the fry,” she repeated. “Submissions work, too.” Submissions were part of their standard rules; was there anything else? Oh, wait. “Oh, wait; I’ve got a Skype date with Dad tomorrow. I’m not gonna tell you to hold back, but if you can help it...” she drew a circle around her neck and face. “...nothing that won’t go away after 24 hours.”

The more Army thought about it, the more he liked the setup. He was a big dude, sure, but the playground had ample space for him to move. Amy would still have an advantage, but that was almost half the fun, wasn't it? He liked a challenge, and Amy was always challenging. In many ways.

Though he did have an idea on evening the odds. In a moment, though. For now, he was enjoying the sight of Amy stretching, putting her body to work and getting the kinks out. She really was an amazing athlete from top to bottom, made even more impressive by the fact that she’d only been fighting for a comparatively small portion of her life. Army had grown up knowing how to throw a proper right hook before he was old enough to spell it, but she had an eerie gift for combat. In the unlikely event the two of them had a kid, he’d be a beast.

He snapped out of the reverie just before it started getting creepy and stood up himself, doing a few practice punches to get warmups, his fist slicing through the air. ”That’s a tough one, your head is at, like, the prime punching height. But I’ll try, sure. And…” His words pettered off as he looked behind her, his brows furrowing as if he’d seen something odd. ”Is that...huh, that is Nate. What’s he doing here?”

Assuming Amy fell for it and looked - or even if she didn’t - Army would bolt off towards the playground, trying to get a neat headstart.