Chapter Text
“Thank you SO much, really!” Ken gushes, closing his notebook. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” The two of you sit in the Hunters’ Association break room, exhausted after a long day of fighting Wanderers. Still, remembering the look of awe on the new recruit’s face as he listened to tales of your battle encounters, seeing how he took notes every time you offered a bit of advice, you don’t regret adding an hour or two onto your workday. You glance at the clock and realize it’s actually more than two - no wonder you’re so hungry.
“Please, accept this as a token of my appreciation!” Ken says, handing you a little paper bag imprinted with a local bakery’s logo.
“That’s so sweet, thank you!” Your stomach rumbles softly as you peek inside at the soft cheesy rolls and glittering sugar cookies. Hopefully Xavier is still awake enough to meet you for dinner, but at this point it’s just as likely he’s wrapped up like a burrito in his apartment, oblivious to the world. “I didn’t realize it was so late already. Let’s head out.”
Stepping into the hall, the two of you exchange small talk about the job and the city as you weave your way through the Association building and eventually reach the main entrance. Ken turns to you just before you reach the doors.
“It would be such an honor to work with you. I hope we can team up for patrols some day,” he says, the tips of his ears going red.
“That’s impossible,” says a familiar voice behind you. “I’m her partner.” Xavier strides confidently to your side, angling his body so he’s partially blocking you from view. It’s vaguely threatening, and you have to fight the smile tugging at your lips.
“Oh,” replies Ken, clearly thrown by Xavier’s sudden appearance. “I thought- I mean, there aren’t any set partners, right? You just pair off depending on the mission?”
“I’m her partner,” Xavier repeats, his voice taking on a slight edge.
“R-right…” Ken looks a bit lost as he glances back and forth between the two of you like he’s trying to figure something out. At last he addresses you. “Um, I think you said you live in the Bloomshore District. I do, too, so I’d be happy to walk you ho-”
“I’m also her boyfriend,” Xavier says bluntly. You feel a blush creeping over your cheeks; that was supposed to be a secret. Dating other Hunters isn’t prohibited, but can lead to a lot of gossip and speculation around the Association, so you two had opted to keep your relationship quiet, at least for the time being.
“I thought we weren’t telling anyone yet,” you whisper, pinching Xavier’s side gently. He doesn’t react, instead maintaining his death stare.
“Oh! Oh, I- I wasn’t trying to-”
“Don’t worry about it!” you say quickly, edging in front of Xavier and waving your hands to indicate how unimportant the topic is. “Just forget he said anything. I’ll see you Thursday, Ken. Take care!” The newly-minted Hunter mumbles his goodbyes and rushes out the door, leaving you to glare at Xavier.
“Why will you see him Thursday?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.
“I’m his mentor. Remember the mentorship program I told you about, and how I asked you to join with me? And you said you had no interest in getting promoted so sleeping would be a better use of your time?” Tugging your flimsy jacket tighter around your torso, you push the door open and lead the way into the cool autumn air.
“But he’s interested in you. It’s very obvious. He won’t be able to maintain professional boundaries if you mentor him.” Xavier takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together as you walk down the street. His hand is warm and comforting, but you refuse to squeeze it. You can’t encourage this sort of behavior by forgiving him too quickly.
“You’re being ridiculous, Xav,” you scoff. “He’s just trying to make the most of this mentorship opportunity. You get jealous over the silliest things.”
“Silly?” he replies, tightening his grip on your hand. “Is it silly for me to be jealous when you have a date with another man?”
You laugh, incredulous. “A date? Sitting in the break room talking about Wanderers is not a date!”
“It is when you’re talking with someone who looks at you like he did.”
‘Someone who looks at you like he did?’ Does that mean-?
“Xavier, were you spying on us?” You shake your hand free as you turn to look him in the eye. “Why didn’t you just come in and join us?”
“I wasn’t invited,” he says petulantly, his lips curling downward into an adorable frown. You have to roll your eyes to protect yourself from being charmed by his absurd jealousy.
“This is ridiculous.” You turn away and march down the street. “I’m going to get hot pot by myself if this is how you’re going to act.” Before you get more than a few paces, Xavier’s arms wrap around you from behind, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You shiver as his lips move against your skin.
“You can’t have dinner without me. I waited for you that whole time even though I was really hungry.”
“I’ll have dinner with you if you stop sulking,” you concede, struggling to keep your voice stern as you melt in his embrace.
“All right. But only if you promise not to go on another date with that guy.”
“It was not a date!” you cry, trying and failing to unfasten his arms from around your waist.
“He paid for your meal.” Xavier’s voice is right against your ear, his breath hot on your skin as your heart begins racing. He shouldn’t be holding you like this in public only a block from the Hunters’ Association, but you’re enjoying it too much to care.
“A cup of coffee is not a meal,” you reply, gasping softly as he presses his lips to your neck. If you weren’t so hungry, you’d suggest going straight home so you could enjoy this feeling without all these clothes getting in the way.
“You accepted a gift from him.” He sullenly bats at the paper bag in your hand, his other arm keeping you pressed tightly against him.
“A few pastries is hardly a gift. Bringing your mentor a little something is customary, a normal human interaction.” Your head rolls to the side in spite of yourself, giving him better access to the sensitive skin of your neck.
“Let’s go home,” he murmurs, trailing kisses from your ear to your shoulder. “Please.”
You’re too worked up now to think straight, but the gnawing in your belly overrides even your desire for him. “We haven’t eaten yet…” you sigh, relaxing into him. “You said you were hungry…”
“I’ll order takeout.” His voice has taken on a familiar urgency, and you realize with a start that you can feel his excitement pressing against your back. “As soon as I finish reminding you that you’re mine. Only mine.”
“Xavier! We’re in public!” you hiss, but your indignation is a facade. Instead of pulling away, you rub your ass against him, savoring the way your stomach flutters as a little moan escapes his lips.
“That was naughty,” he whispers in a tone that makes your knees buckle. “Oh, I get it. You want me to punish you. That’s why you flirted with that guy earlier.”
“I didn’t!” you gasp as his hand slips under the waistband of your uniform. He teases you through the thin cotton of your panties, leaving you breathless and trembling. “I wasn’t flirting. I swear.”
“Hmm. I guess I can believe you… But only if you promise never to accept a gift like that again.”
“I won’t. I promise.” You try to move your hips to get more friction against your soaked panties, but Xavier has you pinned too tightly; you’re entirely at his mercy in the middle of a public area. The sun has long since set, but all it would take is one sweeping arc of a car’s headlights to expose you both. “Just take me home, please.”
“I’d like to, but I have a rule: I only take good girls home. Will you be a good girl for me?”
“Yes,” you whimper, both hands gripping his wrist, trying to move his fingers where you need them. “I’ll be so good for you.”
“And if a man tries to give you pastries again? What will you say?”
“‘No, thank you. My boyfriend bakes.’” Your nerves are frayed to the point of screaming as he drags his middle finger lazily between your thighs and all you want is to be somewhere safe from prying eyes. He can have you against the door or on the floor of the entryway; hell, you’d settle for the maintenance closet in the lobby as long as the door is closed.
“That’s my good girl. I can get us home quickly,” he says, his voice hoarse with need. “Close your eyes.”
A blinding light flashes, illuminating the empty street for a split second. When it passes, the only proof the two of you had been there is the paper bag of pastries left in the middle of the sidewalk.