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Kenoh kept combing his fingers through his bangs, coming up short on hair every time. He brushed the newly cut bangs to the side and frowned in the hotel room mirror, shaking his head. He then pushed them down, seeing if he could get them to a length he didn't inherently hate. Nothing was working. He sighed. He could see better in the ring this way, he reminded himself. It'd be easier to focus. To get his revenge on Hayato for doing this to him in the first place.
There was a knock on the hotel door and Kenoh slid himself backwards with a start, shaking out his hair to erase the traces of his vanity. It could only be a member of Asura, and Kenoh couldn’t let any of them see their leader like this, hung up on Hayato like he was afraid of giving him a title match. Like he thought Hayato could take the title from him.
Only, no one from Asura was waiting for him on the other side of the door.
“You wanted to see me, sensei ?” Hayato smirked, eyes bright as he stood in the hallway, his gym bag over his shoulder. Kenoh hadn’t asked for him. He hadn’t spoken to him after Jinsei made the match for June. So Kenoh wasn’t sure which one of his faction mates he had to kill for telling Hayato his room number.
But on the other hand, Hayato never came to him like this. Never once. It was always Kenoh pushing a room key into his palm and walking away. It was always Kenoh backing him into a corner and making plans and telling him where to meet him. So seeing Hayato looking at him so smugly, so expectantly, made Kenoh’s heart shake. And he had no choice but to nod and step aside, letting Hayato in as he stared at him.
“It looks terrible,” Hayato laughed as the door shut behind him. “Never get a bowl cut. It doesn’t suit you at all.” He reached for the shortened section of his bangs and Kenoh shoved his hand away, stepping back.
“Who’s fucking fault is that?” Kenoh blinked, finding it increasingly difficult to be genuinely angry. Hayato looked so pleased with himself, shoulders free from tension, an easy smile on his lips as he looked at the mark he left on Kenoh.
“Ah, sorry sensei . Are you going to try to punish me?” Hayato stepped closer, daring him, as though they were still in the ring, ready to fight. As though Hayato hadn’t had enough from Kenoh’s furious strikes and blows. Smiling like he didn’t have bruises left by the very man in front of him.
Kenoh stepped in to meet him, wondering if Hayato might be drunk. But as they both closed the distance, he didn’t smell of liquor at all. He grabbed Hayato's hair, forming a fist in his carefully styled hair and pulling. Hayato grabbed his arm and bent it backwards, forcing him away. He had heat behind his movements, but his eyes were bright and eager.
That’s when Kenoh realized: Hayato wasn’t drunk at all. He was simply high on finally getting his match for the belt. For finally getting his singles match with Kenoh, after asking for it for two and a half years.
Kenoh went lower this time, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him forward into a rough and terrible kiss. Kenoh couldn’t stop himself, he never could. Hayato was too transparent and too vulnerable, so hot and bothered just from the idea of fighting Kenoh again.
Hayato rocked his thigh against Kenoh’s crotch and he bit Hayato’s lip to stifle his groan. He hadn’t realized how hard he was, and he uselessly tried to remind himself that he was supposed to be angry.
“Kenoh…” Hayato mumbled, moving from the kiss to bury his face into the crook of Kenoh’s neck, his hands reaching forward to reach into Kenoh’s pajama pants, fingers playing against the waistband of his briefs underneath.
“Sensei,” Kenoh corrected, moving forward to press his lips against Hayato’s ear, shuddering into Kenoh’s low voice. “That’s Kenoh-sensei to you, you shitty little delinquent.”
Hayato’s palms went flat against Kenoh’s pelvis and he pushed himself away. With a single movement, he took a step back, blinking at Kenoh in disbelief. But his lips were still hanging open, eyebrows raised, giving himself away. He didn’t think Kenoh would play along. Silence hung between them, for a long moment, knowing all at once what a bad idea this was, and how badly they both wanted to try.
They passed the point of no return before either of them knew they were supposed to talk about these kinds of things. It had been a hard lesson for Kenoh, back in 2011. Sleeping with Hayato was his first impulsive decision. The first thing he never asked about or thought about in advance. He only wanted to own him, dominate him, destroy him. Hayato had wanted the same, so they clashed together in pursuit of it. It had felt right.
Then suddenly Kenoh wanted so much more, not knowing how to ask Hayato if he wanted it too. And now, a year later, he was staring at Hayato’s lips hanging open in shaking anticipation. And Kenoh realized that they could never turn around and talk about it now.
“How’d it feel then? The big bad teacher, on his knees, his hair cut by a student?” Hayato recovered quickly, smirking as he stepped in with the cocky swagger that he usually saved for the ring. Kenoh glared at him, picking him apart, trying to figure out what he wanted, exactly. But Hayato didn’t stop, closing in on Kenoh until he was backed against the hotel room desk.
“It felt,” Kenoh reached forward, tangling his fingers into Hayato’s hair again. He wrapped his other hand around his waist. Hayato stepped in eagerly, their bodies pressed against each other. “It felt like you don’t want to graduate this year, Hayato-kun,” he mumbled, pulling Hayato’s head back to look him in the eye. The other man gasped, his eyes already going distant with lust, the power rushing to Kenoh’s head fast enough to make him panic.
He swallowed it down with a quick lick of his lips. “Did you think I didn’t notice how often you stare at me in class? You never take notes. You never do assignments.” Kenoh slowly pushed Hayato down, and Hayato sank to his knees readily, already drunk on it, slowly slipping into a headspace Kenoh had never put him in before. A headspace Kenoh didn’t know he was allowed to put Hayato in
Hayato’s eyes darted away, and Kenoh frowned. Maybe he still wasn’t.
“Ken-I mean Sensei I...shit.” Hayato mumbled, arching his head back to ease the strain of Kenoh’s hair-pulling. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and his knees spread outward as he made himself more comfortable on the ground.
“You just wanted Teacher’s attention, didn’t you Hayato-kun?” Kenoh loosened his grip, finding it too hard to be cruel. Too hard not to care . “That’s why you cut my hair, isn’t it? That’s why you had to be such a bad boy, huh?” He curled his fingers through Hayato’s hair, practically petting him.
Hayato nodded, unable to speak, rolling his head to the side to allow for more of Kenoh’s ministrations, eyes still darting away, unable to face the truth behind Kenoh’s words. He had come into the ring speaking to him, and Kenoh had ignored him. And then he acted up. And now...
“Well you have my attention.” Kenoh swallowed. Hayato got his match. And now he had to show Kenoh how badly he had wanted it. This play-pretend was no different than that. “So let’s try to make a good boy out of you, shall we? Maybe we can get you in shape so you won’t need extra lessons this summer.”
A lazy smile returned to Hayato’s lips, slowly coming back into himself. “If you think you can, Sensei . Learning has never been my strong suit.” He bit into Kenoh’s thigh through his thin pajama pants, and Kenoh swallowed back his gasp, letting go of Hayato’s hair.
Almost on reflexively, he gently slapped Hayato’s cheek, and only had a moment to wonder if he went too far before Hayato looked up at him with a dangerous smile. Kenoh immediately slapped him harder, relief washing over him at the realization that he couldn’t change Hayato.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be thorough. I’ll teach you something good, Hayato-kun.” Kenoh licked his lips and thumbed over the waistband to his pants. Hayato rolled his eyes and reached up, helping Kenoh roll them down.
Kenoh gripped Hayato’s head and gently nudged him closer. “Good students don’t need to use their hands. Behind your back.” Kenoh kicked Hayato’s chest with his shin, firm but without real force. Hayato huffed, but obeyed anyway, his eyes defiant as he snapped his wrists against the small of his back, and Kenoh rewarded him by stroking his hair, letting his fingers drift down to the sensitive spot behind Hayato’s ear. Hayato’s eyes fluttered shut as he let his head dip inward, towards Kenoh’s boxers, willfully entranced.
“Never done this before. Teach me…” Hayato was smirking, but his words were drifting off into fantasy. Kenoh had Hayato’s mouth on him more times than he could count, and Kenoh couldn’t help but wonder how many times Hayato had thought about this. About what would happen if he could start over from the first time.
“You...” Kenoh grumbled, heart aching at the thought. He rolled down his boxers, stepping out of both them and his pants, pooling at his ankles. “Start by licking it. Slowly. That’s...that’s good. Oy, not bad, Hayato-kun.”
Hayato preened at the praise, chasing after Kenoh’s cock with his tongue, eyes growing distant again. Kenoh watched him, navigating the fantasy, trying to read every little thing that had crossed Hayato’s mind, in the space between cutting Kenoh’s hair and pounding on his hotel room door. “Close your lips around your teeth, and then take in the tip. Just the tip. Just like... fuck .”
Hayato groaned, hands drifting down to his crotch, palming his cock through his own pants, desperately. Kenoh couldn't find it in himself to chastise him or stop him, too weak to Hayato’s whims. He sighed to himself, pleasantly defeated.
Kenoh hadn’t even given him that title match voluntarily. So he couldn’t figure out why he wanted to give Hayato everything he had right now.
And then Hayato started to take him in deeper, without Kenoh asking, and he no longer cared.
"So you are a good student when you put your mind to it.” Kenoh’s voice sounded much softer than intended, feeling shallow and breathless. “I wonder what I have to do to keep you like this.” Kenoh wasn’t used to talking this much in bed. He wasn’t sure how many of his own thoughts were spilling out, with his head spinning and Hayato on his knees, hazy and obedient. Smirking just enough to let Kenoh know that he was still present, still focused on Kenoh and only Kenoh.
Hayato released him with a pop and caught his breath, panting against his dick. “Hey. Can we…” He glanced upward, before immediately looking back down, letting his hands drift behind his back again. “I mean...am I…”
“Hayato...” It didn’t escape Kenoh how unusual this was for him; to willingly make himself submissive, to come to Kenoh asking for something he needed. How he had to hide behind roleplay and fantasies and lies to get what he wanted. How Kenoh so desperately wanted to hide with him. To pretend they were someone else; anyone else. “Why don’t you take off your pants and join me on the bed? I have some extra credit in mind for you. I’ll show you something good, just like I promised.”
He was right; they could never turn around and talk about this.
“Thank you, Sensei.” Hayato kissed Kenoh’s cock like he was actually in love with him, for one single moment, relief dancing on his lips. Hayato slid his pants off, and Kenoh grabbed him by the back of the neck, gently guiding him to the bed, tossing him down face-first. “Seriously?” Hayato rested his cheek against the pillow, watching Kenoh grab condoms and lube from his bag with a grunt.
“You wanted that extra credit, right? Face-down, ass up, Hayato-kun. Show me how badly you need it.” Kenoh perched himself behind Hayato, pressing his hand against his shoulder blades, forcing him to keep himself down, and keep himself still. “Oy, pay attention. I might give you a test on this later.”
Kenoh slid himself down, running his hands along Hayato’s waist, leaving light tracts of his fingernails in his skin, moving towards his ass. Hayato’s body shifted with him, huffing breath against the pillow as he tried to stifle his moans. Kenoh moved his head downward behind his hands, kissing down Hayato’s spine, biting lightly into his hips before letting his tongue trail down to his tailbone.
It was easier than before, Kenoh noted, without his bangs drifting into his eyes. He would never thank Hayato, of course. Not verbally, at least. But he could find other ways to take advantage of this. To show him that certain things were easier now that he could easily keep his hair from his face.
Hayato nearly shouted when Kenoh pressed his tongue into his ass.
Kenoh dug his fingers into Hayato’s ass, like Kenoh had thought about it every time Hayato adjusted his shorts in the ring, the thin fabric riding up after too many kicks. He ran his tongue through and then pressed in until Hayato was squirming, gasping, sending Kenoh’s head swimming.
“Kenoh…”
Kenoh slapped the side of Hayato’s asscheek as hard as he could, and Hayato groaned. “Kenoh-sensei,” he corrected himself, as weak as Kenoh, just as destroyed by his own desires. “May I…” Hayato choked, like a piece of him was cracking open, just for Kenoh to hear. “Can I touch myself, Sensei?”
That nearly ended Kenoh right then and there. Kenoh moved his hand down, running his hand along Hayato’s thigh in affirmation, pulling himself away from his task just enough to speak. He hid his smile along the curve of Hayato’s ass, and murmured “You asked this time. That’s good, Hayato-kun. Go ahead.”
“ Fuck ,” Hayato thurst his ass into Kenoh’s face as he shifted his hips, giving his hand enough room to pull at his cock. Kenoh rewarded him by biting at the flesh, before going back to his task, pushing his tongue back in, listening for Hayato’s desperate whining, finally shameless. Finally Kenoh’s perfect honor’s student.
When Kenoh pulled back out and looked up, Hayato was drooling into the pillow, absently palming himself in no real rhythm, desperate for pleasure but not trying to make himself orgasm. He was waiting for Kenoh, for his dutiful teacher. Kenoh was so hard it hurt, blindly grabbing for the condoms with one hand while he tried to turn Hayato over with the other.
Hayato shifted, moving with the motion of Kenoh’s hands, rolling over until he was on his back. His lips hung open as he stared at Kenoh, eyes blown wide with lust, gasping as he continued to play with himself. “Not such a bad boy anymore, are you, Hayato-kun? Maybe I should let you pass for the year.” Hayato’s eyes fluttered, drinking in every word.
Kenoh ripped open one condom and slid it onto Hayato’s dick, Hayato arching to the touch, hips rolling off the bed. His gasp turned into a smile, too genuine to be a smirk, too playful to be unguarded. “Hmm. Not sure about that. You could keep me for summer school anyway, Sensei .”
“Annoying brat,” Kenoh snorted, throwing the other condom onto Hayato’s chest, straddling the man so that Hayato could put the condom on Kenoh’s own dick. A teacher passing the next lesson onto his student.
Hayato rolled his eyes, but grabbed the condom anyway and wiggled himself free enough to open it. “Cocky asshole,” Hayato mumbled, rolling on the condom and grabbing Kenoh in his hand, pumping slowly without any coaching or words exchanged. As though months of this had already trained him on what Kenoh likes. As though they never needed this halfhearted charade of a roleplay at all.
Kenoh let Hayato tug at both of their cocks for a moment while Kenoh reached down the bed for the lube. And when Kenoh pulled Hayato forward and lifted his legs, Kenoh wasn’t sure who they were supposed to be anymore. If they were student and teacher, challenger and champion, or hero and villain.
Or if they were just Kenoh and Hayato, staring through each other as Kenoh ran lube over his cock and closed in between Hayato’s thighs. Hayato squeezed his legs together, automatically as he searched for purchase, and Kenoh gasped, terrified to realize that he was awful at playing pretend.
Hayato’s speed on his own hand picked up in desperation, and Kenoh tried to match his pace, trying to lose himself to the rhythm as pleasure and tension built lower and lower in his body. Hayato’s free hand reached up, slowly, as they both started panting and whining their way to a climax. He threaded his fingers through Kenoh’s shortened bangs, slick with sweat, and he pulled as best he could from his angle, as though reminding Kenoh who they were. Reminding him to be angry.
It was the only way Hayato knew to ask for more.
Kenoh gave him as much as he could, until Hayato’s voice started to form words again. Until he stuttered out a broken “Kenoh...sensei. I’m...please…”
Kenoh hadn’t been the best at speaking before he met Hayato. He never hated the mic, but he had trouble turning his personality into words. Taunting Hayato awoke something in him. It made the words come out easier. It made people want to listen to him. Being Hayato’s villain gave him purpose, and gave him words.
But right now with Hayato’s thighs clamped around his dick, searching for a rhythm as he quietly begged Kenoh to let him come, Kenoh was speechless. “Yes. Yes , Hayato,” he was all he could manage, before correcting himself with a gentle, “ Hayato-kun .”
Hayato came with a clench and a shudder, and Kenoh had to hold Hayato’s thighs together himself as he brought himself to climax, Hayato looking up at him with nothing short of smug amazement. Kenoh wasn’t sure who they were pretending to be at all.
Hayato laid on the bed for a solid minute before really moving, simply stretching out his legs slowly, as though floating on the covers of the bed. Kenoh fell down next to him, breathing heavily, laying his hand on Hayato’s thigh, where Kenoh had used them, smoothing his palm over with more tenderness than he ever afforded Hayato in the ring. He supposed he had the title match in June to make up for that.
“You’re kinkier than I thought,” Hayato breathed out, his words turning into a laugh as he turned over to face Kenoh. He reached out his hand and flicked at Kenoh’s shortened bangs again, more amused at himself than anything.
“Oy. Fuck off,” Kenoh slapped Hayato’s hand away, but inched himself closer to Hayato’s body in the bed anyway. “You’re the one who started it. So you have a fucking fetish for teachers, I don’t care. Just don’t blame me.”
“No. No, I did not start it. You’re the one who came in the ring with scissors, spouting all that teacher bullshit.” Hayato laughed again, turning to look at the ceiling, rolling flat on his back. “Plus you took to all that shitty porn dialogue really well. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think you’re the one with the fetish.” He looked back at Kenoh, grinning ear to ear like he had already won the title from him. If Kenoh weren’t so exhausted, he would have shoved him off the bed right then and there.
“I’m just good at improvisation!” Kenoh shot back. “Besides, you came to me just now, spouting all that nonsense. There had to be a reason why.” He didn’t need to point out that Hayato rarely asked for anything. He didn’t need Hayato to know he noticed.
Hayato groaned as he finally pulled off his condom, shifting his hips and looking everywhere except at Kenoh. “I...I don’t know. I was...the fans wanted to see us exchange kicks again, like we did years ago. You kept me waiting, so when you finally gave me the match…”
“Jinsei gave you the match.” Kenoh divorced himself from the decision, just like Hayato hid behind the fans’ wishes. It was only fair.
“I don’t want to fuck Jinsei,” Hayato fired back, sitting up slowly with a long roll of his shoulders.
Kenoh hummed. He couldn’t exactly blame Hayato if he did, but it was something of a relief. He mimicked Hayato’s stretching, pulling his arms over his head as he finally sat up in the bed, condom still on.
Hayato tied his condom neatly and chucked it into the hotel trash can, before walking over to the room’s dresser. He fixed his hair awkwardly in the mirror above it, just as Kenoh had earlier, desperately trying to hide his own vanity. Kenoh felt a laugh bubble out of him, covering his face with his hand before he could. Hayato scarcely turned around.
“Taking a shower before I head out,” Hayato waved, casually, grabbing his clothes and his gym bag, packed and premeditated for this exact situation. There was no real arguing with it, but it didn’t feel right to Kenoh. Hayato looked at him briefly, silently, eyebrows raised like he was trying to read Kenoh’s face.
“You could just sleep here.” Kenoh had never asked before. They hadn’t started using hotel rooms until recently, but it had always been easier for one to just leave. Hayato didn’t look that spent, that used up by Kenoh. He could probably get away with just leaving. But still, it didn’t feel right.
“Majimaru will wonder where I am,” Hayato pulled the bag over his shoulder, and Kenoh just hummed, finally reaching down to his cock to pull off the condom, turning his own eyes away from Hayato. As though he had caught some of Hayato’s awkwardness. He wanted to laugh at that too. “But maybe…”
Next time .
It hung in the air between them, neither of them wanting to say it. Kenoh didn’t want to force him to. Didn’t want to continue this roleplay of two awkward lovers trying to feel things out. This was about a haircut, and a title match, and heroes and villains and Kenoh and Hayato. He reminded himself again as he grabbed for his boxers and pajama pants. “That’s fine. I’m still going to sleep though. Don’t slit my throat if I’m asleep when you leave.”
“Do you really think I will?” Hayato snorted, leaning in the bathroom doorway, watching Kenoh get dressed again with a single eyebrow raised.
“How should I fucking know? You’re pretty handy with scissors, Hayato-kun.For all I know this was a conspiracy to get me off my guard so you could kill me and take the title.” Kenoh huffed and Hayato laughed like he had never heard anything funnier in his life. Kenoh couldn’t help but feel proud of that.
“Then get in the shower with me. Wash off the excess hair from my expert barber work.” Hayato nodded towards the shower, but Kenoh didn’t miss the question in his eyes. The same kind of question Kenoh asked when he told Hayato to stay.
He grunted. “No. Did you not fucking hear me? I said I was going to bed. I’m exhausted.” Kenoh fell back onto his bed, suddenly aware that he had only hung the words between them again.
Next time .
Hayato nodded and shrugged, as though he had expected as much. “Cool,” was all he said, chucking the bag into the bathroom, shoulders as stiff as his words. “Oh. Kenoh?”
Kenoh looked up from the bed, blinking in dull recognition, begging this conversation to end so he could pretend Hayato was already gone. So he could fall asleep knowing Hayato wouldn’t wake up next to him. “Hm?”
“Thanks for the title match,” Hayato’s smirk was unmissable even from the distance between the bed and the bathroom. “Don’t make me wait next time.”
Kenoh moved under the covers. “Fuck off,” he mumbled, before laying back down. Don’t make me wait either , he had wanted to say. But Kenoh wasn’t exactly sure what he was waiting for.