Chris wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, grabbing his water bottle after another intense pickup game in the college gym. The court was emptying out, guys high-fiving and heading to the lockers, the echo of sneakers fading. He'd been on fire today—sinking threes, stealing passes like it was nothing. But as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, that familiar voice cut through the air.
"Damn, Iesuke, you're killing it out there," Ryan said, sauntering over with his usual cocky grin, towel draped around his neck. His dark hair was slick with sweat, and he had that look in his eyes again—too intense, too personal. "We should've teamed up. Could've dominated."
Chris kept his tone light, zipping his bag. "Yes, good game. Team was solid as is."
Ryan leaned against the wall, blocking the path a bit, his broad frame casting a shadow. "Modest, huh? Hey, listen—group project's due soon in Child Psych. We should pair up. My place? I got notes that'll blow your mind."
Chris felt that familiar twinge—Ryan's resurgence had been building. After the last shutdown, he'd backed off for a week, but now it was back: accidental bumps in the hall, lingering looks in lecture, invites that felt less study and more date. "Nah, I'm good. Working with Lena. Thanks though."
Ryan's smile didn't falter, but his eyes narrowed just a touch. "Lena? Come on, man. You're top of the class. We could crush it together. Plus, it's not all work—grab a beer after, loosen up. Your boyfriend won't mind a study night, right?"
Chris's jaw tightened. The "boyfriend" dig was new—subtle jab, like testing waters. "He wouldn't, but I'm busy. Got plans with him and his kid. See you in class."
Ryan straightened, stepping closer than needed. "The dad thing again. You're young, Chris—college is for fun, not playing house. Don't tie yourself down too early. Options are out there." His hand landed on Chris's shoulder, squeeze lingering a second too long.
Chris shrugged it off, voice firm. "I'm happy where I am. Back off, Ryan. Seriously."
Ryan raised hands mock-innocent. "Whoa, chill. Just friendly advice. Your loss if you miss out." He walked away with that swagger, but the glance back felt like a challenge.
Chris headed home, heart thumping annoyed. Ryan's rival tension had amped—grades to personal now. Flirty edges sharpening to something pushier.
At the apartment, Ichigo greeted with a roar-tackle. "Chris! Mia coming play tomorrow?"
Chris scooped him up, spinning. "Yeah, little dude! Dino battle?"
Haru in kitchen, sleeves rolled on button-up, stirring rice. Kiss quick, but Haru read the tension. "Rough day?"
Chris set Ichigo down to play, lowering voice. "Ryan again. Project invite turned flirty dig—said I'm 'tying down' too young. Touched my shoulder creepy. Told him back off."
Haru's dark brown eyes flashed protective. "He touch you again? I'll—"
Chris squeezed his arm. "Handled it. But yeah, resurgence strong. Feels like rival ego bruised."
Haru pulled him close. "Proud you stood firm. He crosses more, we talk to advisor or something."
Bedtime came fast—Ichigo out after one story, exhausted from park earlier.
Living room dim, beer cracked instead of wine. Chris curled Haru's side. "Ryan's pushy—makes me uncomfortable now."
Haru arm tight. "We'll watch it. You're mine—no rival changes that."
Possessive warmth sparked—Chris tilting up, lips hungry. Haru kissed back fierce, hands waist, pulling lap. Tongues urgent, breaths ragged.
Shirts shed quick—Chris's tee yanked, Haru's button-up tossed. Skin met hot, slim pressing medium. Haru's mouth neck—sucking marks claiming, soothing rival unease. Chris arched, gasp breathy, grinding hard.
Pants undone impatient, pushed away. Bare, sweat-slick. Bodies aligned—Haru's hand wrapping firm, stroking rhythm rolls. Chris bucked wild, moans soft, legs tight.
Haru's free hand pinned wrist gentle, deepening friction. Pleasure coiled intense—eyes locked, hazel reassured, brown possessive love. Whispers: "Only you," Chris panted; "All mine," Haru growled low.
Climax crashed shared—Chris tensing beautiful, release spilling hot muffled cry. Haru followed, shuddering deep.
Tangled after, breaths evening. Chris smiled lazy. "Rival forgotten."
Haru chuckled, kissing temple. "Good. He stays that way."
Morning routine: pancakes, giggles, drop-offs. Campus day—Ryan in lecture, "saved" seat again. Chris sat elsewhere.
Ryan cornered after: "Project partners? We could kill it."
Chris firm: "No. Working with Lena."
Ryan leaned close. "Come on, Chris. You're wasting potential. With me, we'd shine. Your boyfriend holding you back?"
Chris stepped back. "Back off, Ryan. Not interested—in projects or anything."
Ryan's eyes flashed annoyed, but he backed up. "Your loss. See you around."
Tension amped—rival not quitting easy.
College chaos heated—pushy edges sharpening.