Hop has his door firmly shut, the small lock on the knob twisted in a way that only really gives the illusion of guaranteed privacy. He’s hardly concerned about it, though, and more focused on pushing you down into his mattress with hands that were a little too excited to be gentle.
You can’t say anything as he muffles any noises you make with his mouth— his kisses are over eager and you knock teeth more times than you actually kiss, but it’s okay. Your face and body are hot all the same as you feel his knee push between your thighs. He swallows down your whimper and laughs into your mouth when he feels your hips buck against his thigh.
It’s all too warm in his room, with both of you still fully clothed but there’s no time to risk removing anything— Hop was always too impatient for anything besides rushed make out sessions anyway.
“Hop—“ you start, but his tongue is hot against your lips and you can feel his teeth biting at the corners of your mouth and the edge of your jaw. You wonder where he gets his aggression from— not that you were complaining; Hop had always been the pushy, overactive type, and you shouldn’t be surprised it channeled over into these types of situations as well.
You let out a low moan when you feel Hop lower his hips to grind against yours and the friction is still just as incredible as it was the first time— and of course Hop was the one to make the first move, while you two were rough-housing and once he had you pinned, his mouth was on yours in an instant and you didn’t have the sense to do anything but kiss back.
Now, it seems every time you two are alone, he can’t help himself but to touch you— and really, you don’t want him to ever help himself. You’re much more reserved and polite to ever initiate something so intimate, so you’re more than grateful for his undying libido and hyperactive energy.
“A-ah— Hop,” you say as he bites at your neck, and this time you give a gentle push to his shoulders that does nothing to deter or move him. “No marks— our moms can’t find out—“ and really, the truth is you’re not entirely sure if your parents would at all care or not anyway, but you refuse to go around with bruises and bites on your skin for all to see.
“I want people to know who you belong to, though!” Hop says, and without fail your heart skips a beat and your stomach flips and you almost consider letting Hop do whatever he wants to you— which is a lot, you’ve learned, and if it weren’t for how self-righteous you were, he would’ve done it all by now.
You still have some dignity left, and a strong sense of pride, however.
“I— I belong to you— they know that—“ You try and reassure him as his fingers dig into your sides and pull up your shirt. The cool air of his room touches the skin of your stomach before the heat of his fingers and palms do, and it’s such a temperature contrast that it makes you shiver. You can feel him lick at your jaw and he whines, grinding his hips against yours again.
“Just— not where anyone can see, okay?” You say, your mind getting foggy with the feeling clenching in your lower stomach as you thrust your hips against his leg. Coherency is leaving you fast, and you don’t mind.
He whines again, into your ear, but he silently agrees with a nip that has you flinching right before his short nails dig into the skin of your sides and drag downwards.
You hiss in a hot breath, arching your back and pressing your front closer to his as he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your middle and hold you tight to him. This way you have no choice but to simply hold onto him as he uses his new advantageous position to just rut against you, jerking both your bodies with the movement of his hips and you have to take it until he’s done.
You know stupid, hushed sounds are escaping you but Hop never cares about how embarrassing you both might be— stupid kids doing stupid things behind locked doors while his mom was downstairs in the kitchen, just a single floor away. For a brief moment you wonder what would happen if she walked in. Would she scream? Cry? Send you home and tell your mother how actually indecent you were?
A particularly sharp bite to your neck has your thoughts dispersing, and thank goodness because you weren’t sure if you could finish with the thought of your mother being upset with you at the forefront of your brain.
“Move—“ Hop says suddenly, and you feel the need to remind him that with how he’s embracing you, you can’t move, actually, unless he does first— but it seems all he meant by that command was actually to have you move your legs, as suddenly he’s entirely in between them and your knees are forced upwards to hug his slim hips.
You cry out when his hand grips your hair and pulls , allowing him to access more of your neck and you really hope he listens to you about the ‘no marks’ rule, but when he gets like this, he sometimes conveniently forgets it.
Hop’s bed begins to squeak with the force of his eager thrusts, and you can feel how hard he is against your ass. Part of you wishes that you both could go a little bit further than this— but even if neither of you will admit it out loud, you’re both too nervous to try anything new in that regard.
It doesn’t keep you from wanting, though, and as you open your eyes, they land on a picture on the wall. A small, signed poster of Leon— Hop’s older brother and the current reigning Champion— and with the hand in your hair and the way Hop is grinding against you, holding you firm against him, it isn’t long before your body jerks and goes rigid with your climax.
You go practically limp after you ride out the waves of your orgasm— blissfully ignorant to the gross aftermath of coming in your pants for the time being— but Hop is still going strong and you’re not sure how much time you have before his mother comes up to offer you both some snacks and drinks, the always hospitable woman that she is— so you decide to help him a little.
You slide your sun kissed hands into Hop’s hair, nails scratching at his scalp as you gently pull the strands between your fingers. He moans, growling against the skin of your neck, and you try not to twitch as he continues to dry hump against your overstimulated body.
“Hop— Hop, a-ah—“ you moan into the crown of his head, kissing his hairline and happy he’s allowing you to do so as he moves his own hand from your hair down to grip tight at the collar of your shirt, pulling it taut against your throat.
His thrusts are growing erratic now, and you know he’s close. “Please—“ you beg, because you’ve learned he likes that, at least a little bit, and this time is no different.
Hop says something against your skin that you can’t understand with the squeak of the bed, the rumbling of your heart in your chest, and the various little noises your clothes make while they rub against each other in the process. You only wonder about it for a mere moment though because his whole body shakes beneath your hands and his hips grind long and slow against the spot between your legs and you whimper, your face hot when you think about how many times you’ve managed to make this boy orgasm by letting him use you however he wanted.
He collapses on top of you, and you’re both breathing hard for a moment together in the relative silence of his bedroom. Your fingers idly play through his hair and you can smell the cologne he put on this morning— the brand endorsed by his brother, obviously. You briefly wonder if Leon would smell the same before Hop’s voice crashes through your thoughts.
“Aw man— I gotta change my pants now.” He whines, pushing himself up on all fours as he looks down at the wet spot between his legs. It was minor, as his jeans were thick, but you sported the same kind of stain on the front of yours as well.
“Think I can borrow a pair too?” You ask, embarrassed. Just a tad.
Hop smiles at you, bright as ever at the concept of you wearing something that belonged to him, and you smile back before you notice his eyes lower to something near your neck and his expression grows even more excited.
A cold chill runs through you. “You— you didn’t.” You day as you shove him off and ignore his laughter while you pull out your phone, turning on the selfie camera and seeing exactly what it was that has your boyfriend so euphoric right now.
There, right above the collar, just barely— was a large, dark bruise. Clear as day even against your sun-tanned skin.
“Hop!” You yell, looking absolutely scandalizes as you rub at the mark and wince when it doesn’t immediately disappear.
Hop, meanwhile, is clutching his stomach laughing. “I’m sorry!” He says, but the laughter makes it sound insincere. “My big brother is coming tomorrow and I wanted to be able to show you off to him!”
You shoot a deadly glare at your boyfriend, mentally threatening him for his dirty ulterior motives for seducing you today. “I can’t believe you! What about my mom? I have to go home soon and I can’t hide this!”
“Relax! You can borrow one of my hoodies today, okay? Tomorrow just wear a high collar shirt or something.” Hop says, dodging one of your hands that reaches towards him. “I’m sorry, I said!”
“Yeah, right! You just wanted to be gross in front of your brother!” You accuse with a pointed finger.
“I mean— I’ve been wanting to introduce you to him for a while, and this is the perfect time and perfect introduction! He doesn’t care about any of that stuff and because he’ll be home, mom won’t care either and you and I won’t have to keep hiding in my bedroom anymore.” Hop argues, crossing his arms as he looks at you expectantly.
You glare at him one more time before you look back at your front camera again, lightly rubbing the mark.
You weren’t about to say it, but the sight of it and the idea that Leon was going to see it and immediately know who it came from— it was a little exciting.
“I don’t like marks like these.” You say, but with a significant less amount of poison in your voice. “But there’s nothing I can do about this now.”
“Yeah, see? Don’t even worry about it.” Hop says and he scoots closer to you, leaning in with a glint in his eye you recognize.
You let him kiss you, and then you kiss him back, moaning when you feel his hand settle on your inner thigh and push your legs apart again—
“Hop, Kawa— I brought snacks!” Hop’s mother says as she knocks and then jiggles the handle. “Why is your door locked, sweetie?”
Hop immediately jumps off the bed and rushes over to his drawers, pulling out two pairs of pants that you both slide on in record time. “Oh, sorry mom! We were just changing into something more comfortable.” Hop says as he unlocks and opens the door, making a point to squeeze himself in the doorway as much as possible while you slide yourself under one of his blankets.
“Oh— okay, dear, I just thought I’d ask if Kawa was staying for dinner tonight.” She says, trying and failing at looking in the room.
With one glance at you over his shoulder, Hop quickly responds with “Nah, he’s not feeling that well so he’s probably going to go home soon. I can make myself something, don’t worry about it, mum.” He says sweetly.
“Alright, well I hope he feels well soon— don’t keep him here too late if he’s sick, okay?” And with that, Hop wishes his mother goodbye and closes the door. He stands there for a moment, waiting until he heard her footsteps descending down the stairs before he quietly locked his door again.
You let out a heavy sigh and kick off the blankets you had pulled over yourself. “That was too close.” You say.
“You said that last time.” Hop points out, walking over to you with a grin. You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless as he sits next to you, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours. His tongue finds his way inside and you know if you don’t stop now, you’ll both end up ruining these pants too, so you gently push away from him after a moment.
“If I’m going to meet the Champion tomorrow, I need a good night’s sleep and a shower.” You say.
Hop immediately gets a pout on his face, and you peck kisses at his cheeks until it goes away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and after that—“ you say in between kisses, and soon enough Hop is smiling again and kissing you back.
“Yeah— yeah, you’re right.” He acquiesced with a sigh. “I can’t wait to introduce you to him. He’s bringing us some pretty cool gifts, I heard! You better not sleep in!”
You smile, nodding. “Of course not. I wouldn’t want to miss something like this!”
Hop laughs and leans into you and you laugh and let him until you’re both lying on his bed, tangled together and content.
Your eyes wander back over to that poster of Leon again, signed by the Champion himself, and you try to ignore the small amount of excited nervousness beginning to grow, low in your stomach.
Hop’s small kisses against your clavicle are a welcomed distraction.