Playground Games

Amy would remember the face Army made as he realized what was about to happen for the rest of her life.

Beyond that, nothing was certain. There was a lot to be said about what had just happened. How were they going to deal with the damage they’d done? Could they get the league to pay for this? And what kind of person attacks someone while they’re unconscious? When Amy, still clinging to Army’s chest, lifted her cheek from where it was pressed against Army’s and met his eyes, it was with a sheepish smile and not an insignificant amount of guilt.

But Army didn’t care. The first thing out of his mouth had nothing to do with any of that. What he said instead swept her completely off of her feet.

Amy was speechless. Amy couldn’t even think- all she could do was stare. Her eyes stared back at his for as long as he kept his head up. Once untethered, they traced the curve of his lips and over his chin. They danced down his neck; watched, fascinated, as they matched the expansion and contraction of the skin around his collarbone with the sensation of the rise and fall of his chest against her own. Then they darted back up to his lips and stuck there.

Amy couldn’t breathe. She had to clutch tight onto his shoulders for fear of floating away. Her heartbeat boomed so loudly in her ears, she was getting dizzy. She briefly found her voice- (shakily): “No, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever…” -before she finally lost all composure. She claimed her favorite seat, planted an elbow in the dirt on either side of his head, then took him hungrily by the mouth.  

Her forearms cradled his head, her hands grasped at his hair. Her exposed navel pressed forward, desperate for contact. And her mouth- her lips were possessive, her moans demanding, her tongue adventurous. A huntress and her prey? None of that nonsense mattered. Right now, she was just a girl head over heels for a boy.

She felt every sensation at maximum intensity- the tenderness of his lips, the sweat on her face, the warmth of the body heaving against her thighs, the way her knuckles sang with the ache of a job well done; even the sharp pain in her abs would become a treasured and immutable pillar of this memory. And, all throughout their kiss, splintered wood debris and frayed strands of rope continued to rain down as though in slow motion around them.

There the two of them laid, Army and Amy, boyfriend and girlfriend, amidst a scene of destruction and chaos. They’d used the playground for a battlefield and done thousands of yen worth of damage to it, making things needlessly inconvenient for both children and the Japanese taxpayer.

For what? For a fry? Anybody would call them crazy for it. As Army laid there in the woodchips, staring up at the cloudy sky, smiling despite the immense pain over his body, he’d find it hard to disagree.

But he didn’t much care. If this was what crazy was, he’d take it. Sanity was overrated.

All that mattered was the woman on top of him. Amy Poford - girlfriend, opponent, friend, lover. He could feel her tiny heart beating at a triphammer pace behind her, with hot, heavy breath warming his neck, and he knew what was coming. His heart was beating just as fast at the anticipation.

She said a few words, couldn’t finish the sentence, and then they were going at it. Amy was always more of a ‘show, don’t tell’ sort of lady.

She was on him, and he pressed her close, one arm around her waist, the other behind her head, pressing tight as their kiss rage. His mouth welcomed her tongue in and did everything to make it feel at home, as his slipped between her teeth as much as possible. A wild, groping hand would occassional travel lower and grasp her butt, squeezing as much of it in his hand as possible. Owning it. Holding her like she might slip away at any second.

He broke away, but only long enough for a quick, one-syllable question.

”Here?”

The meaning would get through, he was sure. While they’d planned to go at it later tonight, he knew too well that Amy was a creature of instinct, and if she was in the mood right now, then now was the best time. No sense in fighting nature. It would be a little weird in a public park, but honestly? Army would’ve taken her in a priest’s confessional, if Amy wanted it.

Army managed to get his question out, but only just. Amy, with an affronted whine of protest, had immediately surged forward to re-close the gap; if he had meant for any words to follow, he would have to figure out how to say them with her tongue in his mouth. But it was a fair question, and Army was right to ask it. From her toes to her shoulders, from fist to shining fist, her body was giving his all the right signals. It only made sense- if this were after hours at the Rodriguez Gym, they’d have already torn each other’s clothes off by now.  

And, frankly, she was 99% there. Not 30 seconds ago, Army was out like a light. How many guys would wake up from a knockout marveling about how sexy she was? Amy had unique, almost impossible needs. But Army was special; he filled each of these with enthusiasm and aplomb. He was so important to her. Why should they put this off? Why should they wait?

Amy pulled away from his lips and sat up slowly. Her eyes stared yearningly into his. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes.

Then, reluctantly, she shook her head. “No. Better not.” (Splinters, the 1% of her she trusted to keep her safe and scandal-free had pointed out). She took a deep breath. Then she took another. When she spoke again, her voice was husky with barely-restrained desire. “Let’s get our stuff. Then let’s go find a wall somewhere that you can fuck me against.” She began to stand, then a thought struck her- “Oh!” - and her hazy expression took on a mischievous edge. She pressed an authoritative hand against his chest. “Stay,” she commanded softly. Amy stood up- slowly, one leg at a time- took a moment to leer at the man lying prone beneath her, then hobbled over to their bench.

Her mind stayed behind with her boyfriend, though. Army was the fucking best; his reaction had expelled all worry from her mind, and solutions to their current troubles came quickly: they would tie his shirt somewhere conspicuous so the Kyoto Parks department would know that the damage was spoken for. Then they’d put a call in to the Tension 24/7 hotline, report that they’d called for a ref but they’d finished their fight before one ever showed, and, oh by the way, this park needed a cleaning detail.

At the table, Amy grabbed the fry bag and started her journey back. As she walked, she subconsciously pressed a palm against the skin just above her eye. She’d unwittingly hit her face against Army’s chin in the chaos. Overnight, unbeknownst to the two of them, this spot on her forehead would swell into a small but obvious bruise, and the discoloration would manifest into a tiny little heart shape, because the gods love their little jokes.

When she returned to where Army lay, Amy reassumed her seat. She leaned over, drew the fry from the bag, then put the fry in her mouth. It was stubby- it was really just half a fry- and it was really greasy, having soaked up the last of the oil in the bag. It tasted like old salt.

It was the best fry she’d ever eaten in her life.

“Mmmm,” she gushed as she chewed. She maintained eye contact the whole time, making sure that Army was watching. “Mmmm~!” she moaned again, in a manner that was not unlike a pornstar’s. This time, her eyes rolled back and her head drooped low, as though in a trance. There wasn’t enough for a third round of obnoxious poor sportsmanship, so she swallowed the gross fry, opened and locked her eyes right onto his, and grinned. “So good.” She patted his cheek condescendingly.

Then she stood up again and offered him a hand up. "Good to go, Ace?"

Army wished it was dark. He wished it was nighttime. Preferably around midnight. Kyoto wasn’t as bad as Tokyo when it came to being a city that never slept, so they could’ve gotten some privacy, maybe. They could’ve done it under the slide, avoided any cops that might’ve strolled their way. With enough space, Amy could’ve screamed to her little heart’s content. Hell, he could give his lungs a workout, too.

It was a nice thought, one he was seriously wishing as her heavy breaths washed over his face. Nice thought, but not reality. That being said, as much as a bad idea as it was to fuck in a public park on a children’s playground...he would’ve. If she wanted to, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Still, he was kind of glad she said no, if he was being completely honest. His dick didn’t like it, but his brain knew what was best.

His mind was already racing as she started to stand up, thinking of the best walls in the general vicinity for them to go at it like dueling jackhammers. He was having a hard time thinking of any good spots that were too close to dumpster, and he was about to scratch her brain for suggestions, when she pushed him back down against the chips. He groaned and flopped back with his arms wide, not even bothering to look at her as she went. He didn’t to. He knew what she was about to do. She was going to do what he would do if he’d won, and he knew she would, because Amy was a smaller, hotter, blonder, female version of himself.

Army would’ve gone to get that fry. He would’ve come back, held her down, and made her watch while he ate it. He would’ve chewed it, nice and slow, drawn it out as long as he could. It would’ve been the sexiest thing you could do with a single french fry.

Then Amy came back and did just that. Why? Because she was Amy.

Army laid there and took it without a single peep. He just stared. And smiled. Breathed in deep and enjoy every scent of Amy in the air. The most movement he did was a quick lick of her hand when she patted his cheek. Cute, yet simultaneously pure evil.

Army took her hand, though, because of the size difference, he had to do most of the work when it came to getting back up. It was a task that wasn’t made any easier by her nearly impaling him with her elbow. By some miracle, he managed.

”Oh, I’m good. I am more than good.” Army shuffled around and settled into his pants. He looked around, keep an eye out for any walls to hide behind. So far, no luck. "Any ideas?"

Amy was full of ideas. Once Army was back on his feet, she was off to the picnic table to collect her jacket. “We passed one of those hourly hotels on the way here from the burger place.” She was a fan of the concept, but she hated the term. “Love hotel;’ could they have picked a skeezier name? “We can be there in like a minute if we hustle.”

Garbage in the trash, jacket in hand. She turned around. One last order of business. “How much would you miss that shirt if you lost it?”

Army loved Japan.

He loved Puerto Rico, too, of course. That was his home, he’d always have fond memories of the place, and he’d have to return there someday. But there were things on this island that the one he was born on simply couldn’t provide. While Puerto Rico was full to bursting with fine women, it was also an extremely religious place, the kind that would never even think of having something like a ‘love hotel’.

But Japan? Japan was a different beast. A wilder beast. When it came to sex, Japan provided.

Army and Amy did indeed ‘hustle’, making it to the place in good time, which was especially good for him - the less time he spent running around topless, the better. The place was about everything he’d pictured when Amy mentioned it a couple of minutes ago. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but it wasn’t too out in the open, either, conveniently nestled behind a few more traditional establishments, in the shadows. It looked like business was a bit slow, but then again, it was the middle of the day. Business would pick up when the sun went down.

They couldn’t wait that long, though. The two of them came bursting, with Army almost out of breath, still looking like a mess from all the wanton destruction they’d just created.

The receptionist, a tiny thing with horn-rimmed glasses, gave them only the slightest look from behind the pages of her J-Pop magazine. ”Can I help you?”

“Can I help you?”

The woman sounded polite enough, but Amy noticed that she didn’t bother to lower her magazine until Amy replied to her question. “One room, please.” Amy requested politely. Amy bundled her response with a bright smile; the receptionist sighed and reluctantly turned her swivel chair toward her. She pulled a binder out from a drawer and laid it bare on the counter. “Which room would you like?”

Amy gaped at the menu. The building didn’t seem particularly big from the outside, so it was hard to believe that there were this many options available. Classroom, dungeon, train car... there was even what looked like the deck of a pirate ship? Amy would probably find all of this hilarious later. Right now, though, she just wanted a bed and four sturdy walls. She tapped her finger on the selection labeled “Standard.”






“How long would you like the room for?”

How long? Amy looked at her phone. Carmen was making them dinner tonight. 30 minutes on the train, 15 minutes on the bus, and assuming that they wouldn’t be too sore to sprint... that gave them just under... “2 hours please.” Amy handed over her credit card and set up some alarms. No way they could be trusted to keep track of the time on their own. She glanced down at the rates and canted her head, thinking. Pretty expensive for fun they usually had for free, but the amount would make for a decent wager.

Amy turned around, took Army’s hand, and focused her smile on his. No top and jeans was a good look for him; she bet that he’d look even better with a collar on. In a voice she thought was private, she intoned,






“Amy-san.”

The voice was a new one. Amy looked back to see a balding, middle-aged man grinning wildly, his hand already clenched into a fist and rising steadily into the air. Amy felt her smile freeze and the back of her neck seize up with a sudden sense of dread. Oh no.

“BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!” For a moment, Amy’s was the face of despair. Today had been perfect; somehow, by some cosmic stroke of luck, they had gotten through the whole day without somebody recognizing and accosting her like this. She could almost believe that the fervor around Climax was finally dying down- I mean, Climax was already 3 months ago, and the Valkyries long defeated- and that life could get back to normal again.

This man’s voice smashed those hopes and jarred her back to reality. Amy couldn’t help but wonder if anonymity was a luxury of the past. Blaise loved the attention, and Mariko found the adoration cute. Amy understood that she wasn’t exactly in the best line of work for somebody who valued her privacy, but this was too much. Her shoulders slumped.

But Amy composed herself almost instantly. She grinned and she giggled. She raised a fist and chanted back- “BAM! BAM! BAM!” - much to the delight of her fan.

But, behind her, she gripped Army’s hand tighter.






“My name’s Stella, by the way,”

Amy looked up, startled, before allowing herself a small but genuine smile.







It was quiet for a moment inside the elevator after the doors closed. Then Amy turned around, pressed her forehead against Army’s chest, and let loose a suddenly exhausted sigh.

Oh, now this was interesting. Army wasn’t aware they had such selections available.

As Amy handled the business, Army thumped through the catalogue, seeing what they had open. She probably wouldn’t want to get too crazy today, but he was already thinking of ways to make her return to Japan as memorable as possible. When she got back, she’d want sex, no question, and not just any sex. I-Haven’t-Seen-You-In-Three-Months Sex had to be special.

The pirate ship seemed a bit too...well, dumb, that was the best word for it. He’d never gotten the whole American thing with pirates, honestly. The school idea, though, brought back some memories to an earlier conversation he and Amy had.

“...I’ll dress up for a boyfriend.”

Amy Poford in a schoolgirl outfit? Yes, please. Japanese or American style, though, that was the question…

He was dragged out of the incredibly pleasant vision of his girlfriend in a skimpy Catholic uniform by the sound of chanting. At first he paid it little mind, just thought it was some fans being irritating, but then he paid more mind to what they were saying, and who they were saying it to.

Amy. Right.

The tightening of her hand told him enough. He gave her a tender squeeze back, but he was glad when they got everything squared away and made it to the elevator. He was eager to get away from prying eyes, and he had the strong feeling she felt the same.

That feeling was vindicated. They weren’t too long in the elevator before he found her face and her breath warmed him up.

”Hey.” Army spoke soft, as soft as a guy his size could speak, and wrapped his arms around Amy to cradle her close. ”Forget about all that, okay? I’m your biggest fan, and I’m the only one who’ll be in that room.”

When Amy felt Army’s arms close around her, she turned her head to the side and reciprocated his embrace. It was nice; it was warm. She knew he was doing his best.

But it wasn’t the times that they were alone together that were so distressing to her (the fan worship wasn’t so bad then). It was the times when she was out shopping, or ordering food at a restaurant, or just hanging out and being a tourist that her ‘celebrity’ status really got to her. She’d stood out even before Climax- she was a shock of blonde in a sea of black hair- but now people knew her face, her name, and felt as though they had rights to her time and her attention. Amy needed to explore to live, but the intrusive chanting kept her indoors more than she would’ve preferred since September. Public life in Kyoto was almost unlivable these past few months.

These were dark, familiar thoughts, and Amy fought to keep them at bay. She pressed her cheek harder into her boyfriend’s chest. Army- her rock. He had been extremely supportive since the Pay-Per-View event, and his solace and physical comfort made even being cooped up indoors all day not so bad. He deserved better on their last date; she needed to get ahold of herself.

Okay.

1. They were on a date.
   
2. They just fought, and her body still ached from his blows.
   
3. She didn’t have to worry about Carmen or Felina (or the neighborhood) hearing them here.
   

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.

Behind her, an ugly buzz indicated that they’d reached the second floor. Slow elevator.

Amy lifted her head and looked up at Army, “Yeah, okay.” She held his hand lightly in hers, and a small smile crept back onto her face. “Sorry; you’re right. I’ll try not to think about any of that. You have to help, though.” She turned around and leaned her body back into his. She gave his hand a gentle kiss, then guided it up her shirt. Then she craned her head back and whispered into his neck. “Distract me.”

Army stood there, Amy’s head against his chest, wishing he could do so much more for her. Wishing he could just turn off the fans like a switch, get them to disappear when it wasn't convenient. Wishing he could get inside Amy’s head and get her to ignore the more annoying aspects of this thing they did for a living. Maybe then she would stay, and they could just rent out this room every weekend, and just enjoy each other and not have to worry about the neighbors or Carmen or their fans or the Valkyries or property damage…

It was a nice thought. Not a realistic one, but nice.

It was a relief when he saw that smile creep back over her face. She was still good, they were still good, and the mood was very much in the air as she turned around and pressed against him, her body molding against his like a key to a lock. She helped his hand find her chest, not that it needed any direction. It was very familiar with that particular area.

”Distract you?” He tried his best to surpass a chuckle, but it still wound up rumbling in his chest. Amy had this strange way of being corny and amazingly sexy at the same time. ”Well, let me try…”

He cupped her breast and pressed against it with his palm, squeeze and release, squeeze and release. ”How about that? Or…” Army’s other hand roamed over her thigh for a moment, before making it to the spot where her leg met and running his fingers along the juncture, teasing everything beneath. ”Or…”

Army dipped down and ran his tongue over her lips, before moving even further and going for a real kiss, his lips suckling at her, pulling her breath into his mouth, tasting the victory fry. It didn’t last too long, but that was sort of the point. ”Doing well so far?”

DING. Third floor. If there were any fans standing between them and that room when they got up to the fourth, they wouldn’t be fans for much longer.