Chapter 415: Just The Tip-Off

The lights in the room had just switched to day mode when Nash opened his eyes.

Aiko was already on him. Her undone twintails fell over her shoulders, her cheeks pink, a smile too big for a girl who had just woken up.

"...Hey."

"Morning, papa."

She was straddling him, small, sitting up straight, both hands flat on his chest, and she was already moving. She was soaked, and not just a little. She must have been dripping the whole night. It ran down her thighs, it stuck to her lower belly, and his cock slid in it with no effort, trapped between her lips, shiny from end to end, but not inside.

She rolled first, slowly, her hips making a small circle, thighs tight against his. Then she tapped for real. A short beat, then another. The soft flesh of her pussy hitting his on every drop.

Nash put both hands on her ass. They fit in his palms, firm, hot. He squeezed them, spread them a little, and lifted her to set her back down harder against him. Aiko let out a high little laugh, surprised, her shoulders shaking, and she caught herself on either side of his head, her eyes squinted.

"Hey... bad papa, I’m the one who leads."

"I’m just helping mama."

He started again, fingers dug into her flesh, making her go up and down along him without ever letting her line up. Just the rubbing, as long as he wasn’t penetrating her he was respecting his goal of not fucking before a match. It was just her, open, sliding on him.

Aiko laughed at every squeeze, a short laugh, a little dumb, then the laugh broke into a small moan as soon as he pressed the most sensitive point against him. She wrinkled her nose. She tried to take the rhythm back herself. Her hips went faster, her pelvis slapping his, her thighs working, and Nash was already all wet with her.

But suddenly she lifted all at once, looked for the entrance, set the tip right against her. Nash reacted immediately, both his hands closed on her hips, firm, stopping her dead from coming back down, holding her hanging exactly where she was, a few millimeters from what she was looking for.

He lifted her after that, moved her a few centimeters higher, putting his length flat against her slit again instead of lined up with her entrance, closing the situation before she could really protest.

"We said not before the match."

Aiko shivered, a tiny moan, her nails in the sheet. She pouted, lip pushed forward, actually annoyed for a second, then she rubbed harder on purpose, the whole length in one go, a heavy back-and-forth, and she smiled at him like a kid.

"Too bad for papa. You’re going to keep that all day."

She disappeared under the sheet. Nash followed her with his eyes, the bump of her head between his knees, the twintails disappearing, and he felt her mouth before he saw it.

He flinched.

"Aiko—"

The blanket lifted a little between his legs. Aiko had slipped under it, on her stomach, her little twintails spreading over his thighs. She wasn’t doing it delicate. She opened her mouth, put her tongue under the head and swallowed him in one go, until her nose hit his lower belly. You heard a wet sound, a little too loud for the silence of the room while day was starting to rise.

"Glk—" then a small "schlk" when she came back up, leaving a string of spit stuck to his skin.

"Aiko— wait—"

But Aiko didn’t give a fuck. She went back at it, even louder. You could feel her forcing the passage, her throat squeezing around him. She was drooling so much the sheet stuck to her skin. Nash felt everything: the heat, the wetness, and that little tremor of her tongue rubbing the underside of the head on purpose on the way up.

His hips started moving on their own. He planted a hand in her hair through the fabric, not to push her, but to try to calm her, to tell her to slow down.

"Easy, Aiko. We’ve got a match today, you’re going to kill me before we even get out of bed."

Under the blanket she let out a little laugh, mouth still full. It vibrated against him, a high "mmh—", like she knew what she was doing. She pulled back just enough to catch her breath, a thread of spit linking her lower lip to him, then she started again, even dirtier. She licked along the vein, took just the tip between her lips and sucked it like a popsicle that was too hot. "Slurp, slurp." It was loud on purpose.

Nash clenched his teeth and glanced toward the door, even though he knew perfectly well it was closed. Aiko squeezed her thighs around his head and let out a real moan. She sounded like a cat in heat who had decided breakfast was him. She took the whole length again, faster, deeper, her nose hitting his stomach on every drop. The spit overflowed and ran down his balls, and the sheet was already soaked under her cheek.

Nash arched. He tried to talk again.

"Aiko. Aiko, listen to me. Get up. You’re going to make me— fuck— you’re going to make me cum, stop a second—"

Instead of listening, she sped up.

That was her punishment. Not a refusal, but too much pleasure. She was treating him like she wanted to empty him: flat tongue, tight lips, one hand pumping what her mouth wasn’t taking, and the other holding his hip so he couldn’t back into the pillow.

"glk-glk-glk—"

Nash felt the pressure climb too fast in his lower belly. His fingers tightened in Aiko’s hair, his feet looking for support on the mattress. He couldn’t even finish his sentences anymore, he was just repeating her name.

"Aiko— I— I’m gonna—"

And then she stopped.

Dead. No more mouth, no more tongue. Just the cold air of the room on his cock, shiny and hard, twitching in the empty. Nash blinked, breath cut, staying tensed like an idiot. The blanket slid. Aiko appeared between his legs, lips red, chin glistening, with a string of spit still hanging from the corner of her mouth. She was looking at him with that smile... damn, that was hot.

"Mhm..." She tilted her head, her twintails touching his thighs, and put a finger on her own lip to check the damage. "Since papa said not before the match. Then Aiko listens to papa."

She leaned in again, just a little, and licked the flat of the head. Once, slowly, tongue fully flat. It was just enough to make him jump, but not enough to finish him. She swallowed what she had taken, made a small satisfied pout, and stood up. Her thighs were still shiny from everything she had left all night, her cheeks pink. She looked like a student who had just turned in homework.

"Morning lesson," she said in a voice that was too soft. "You lock my hips, I lock that. It’s fair, right? You’re going to keep that all day, like I told you. And you’re going to think about me with every step."

Nash looked at her for a moment, still all hard and feeling completely stupid, then he smiled.

"Fair, huh?"

He reached out, grabbed her waist and yanked her back onto the mattress in one hard pull. Aiko let out a small cry, actually surprised, and landed on her back right where she had been just before. Her twintails scattered and her knees came up on instinct.

"Hey—! Nash! Let go of me, I won, I’m the one who— ah—!"

She was struggling while laughing, her hands against his chest, but it was to pretend. She was tapping her knees weakly against his hips, her laugh already turning into a moan as soon as he ran his mouth down her neck.

Every movement brought her closer to him, and Nash slid under the blanket with her without saying a word, closing both of them in the heat of the sheet.

Of course there was a rule: no penetration. So he paid her back in exactly the same coin: the tongue, the lips, the slow dirty rubbing along her already soaked slit. It was enough to make her arch and turn her laughs into little "ahn—" muffled against the pillow.

Aiko was squirming, her heels looking for support on the sheet, one hand in his hair to push him away while keeping him pressed against her chest. Her thighs opened wide, royally forgetting the "lesson" she had just given. She was still laughing when he went after her clit, then the laugh broke, then she started again, her face hidden in the fold of her arm, her ears all red.

Nash came back up along her stomach, settled between her thighs and rubbed against her, exactly like she had done at wake-up. His cock slid between her lips without ever pushing in, coated in her and in spit. It was a heavy back-and-forth that made their hips slap under the fabric.

Aiko hooked her ankles into his back and stopped fighting for real. She was moaning against his shoulder now, small high sounds, her hips answering the rhythm. She was way too busy taking it to remember she wanted to punish him.

The artificial daylight kept getting stronger in the room, but neither of them got up. Breakfast could wait; they stayed stuck under the blanket, paying each other back without ever crossing the line.

Later, everyone ended up around the table for breakfast. Honestly, it was super rare for the whole household to be there at the same time, but for once, they all decided to stay. It was a little like they were trying to give each other courage collectively before the carnage.

But yeah, the mood was... weird. It was a weird mix of nervous laughs and sudden silences. Every player was handling her stress however she could. Some of them barely touched their plates, because their stomachs were completely knotted. And others, on the contrary, were shoving down everything they found, like eating without stopping helped them not crack.

That was the reality of game day. Done with the stylish moments and the spectacular moves you try to copy during practice. This was the exam. And they wouldn’t get a second chance to make up for it if they blew it.

That tension had been there for hours, and it was eating away little by little at their ability to think about anything else. Even the simplest stuff, like brushing their teeth or packing their things, was turning into some kind of weird little rituals.

The bus convoy left the manor a little before noon. The closer they got to Hell Gates Arena, the more the road turned into hell. Traffic was packed, and the sidewalks were jammed with fans. Some of them were even running next to the buses screaming names, banging on the windows or holding up handmade signs.

In the first bus, Nash watched the crowd go by through the window. He knew that feeling well: a mix of adrenaline and forced calm. The closer the time got, the tighter his focus became. All the outside noise was starting to fade until only the match was left.

He had always told himself that the best players weren’t the ones who weren’t afraid, but the ones who knew what to do with their nerves once they were there.

Next to him, Rei kept her eyes closed with her headphones on. She was controlling her breathing, counting every inhale, exactly like she had done all week. Aiko, though, couldn’t stay still. Her leg was bouncing nonstop and her eyes jumped from one point to another. She spent the whole time checking and rechecking her laces, even though they were perfectly tied.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, the Colossus convoy was taking a very different route. They were going through private, secured roads to avoid the crowd. Inside the bus, the mood was just as tense, but not in the same way at all.

No chatting, no nervous laughs. Just a heavy silence, almost solemn. Every player was in his own bubble, with headphones or eyes closed, running the plan back through his head.

Cross had his earbuds screwed into his ears, his head slightly tilted. He was mentally repeating every possible scenario, every defensive position he had worked on all week. Kael was rereading his tactical notes for the third time. His lips were moving on their own while he memorized every detail, refusing to leave anything to chance.

And then there was Seth. He was sitting apart, near the window, not doing anything special. He just stayed still, his gaze locked straight ahead. It looked like he had already played the match ten times in his head before even arriving. Every action, every counterattack, everything was already planned.

In the bus, nobody dared break that calm. Some people would call that confidence. But the ones who knew Seth well knew it was something else: a kind of personal law he imposed on himself.

That law? "I will never lose."

For him, "losing" didn’t even exist. It was a made-up word that had no meaning. In his vocabulary, you didn’t "lose." He beat his opponents, and that was it. It only went one way.

So for Seth, the only reality, the only law of the universe, was to beat everyone and move on to the next thing. That was, for him, the most fundamental law of the universe.

An hour before the match, it was circus time.

You know, that moment where the players have to put up with the journalists and the cameras. Normally you could skip it, but when you’re getting close to the playoffs and everyone is waiting on this match, the sponsors and TV don’t let go. Nobody dares say no, because yeah, you don’t want the league on your ass over a little interview.

For Nash, it went super fast. He was walking down the hallway and a journalist, almost out of breath, was trying to jog next to him so he wouldn’t lose the thread.

« Nash! A quick word on the face-off with Seth tonight? »

Nash didn’t even slow down. He had that little smirk, like *I know something you don’t*.

« A word? » Nash laughed a bit. « I’ve got three: keep me entertained. »

The journalist made a face, but kept trotting next to him. « Wow, you can tell you’re confident. Well, it’s normal for someone who hasn’t lost a single time this season. Some people say Colossus has never faced a threat like you. What do you think? »

Nash shrugged, almost dragging it a little. « I’m pretty sure they faced solid teams last season, otherwise they’d already be in the Upperleague. But yeah... let’s try to see if we can finish even, just to see what happens. »

And bam, he disappeared into the hallway that leads to the locker rooms. The journalist stayed planted there, scribbling like crazy in his notebook, probably wondering if he’d actually just gotten an answer or if Nash was fucking with him.

On the other side, Seth was a whole other vibe. Totally different.

The second the camera got in front of him, he stopped dead. His face? A wall. Zero expression, like he was made of stone.

« Seth, how are you preparing against an opponent as unpredictable as Nash? »

Seth held a silence, staring at the lens without blinking. His voice was completely flat, with no emotion at all, but with a certainty that almost sent a chill down your back.

« There is no such thing as unpredictable, » he answered. « There are only things that were poorly anticipated. I have anticipated every possible scenario. Tonight’s result is already decided, in broad strokes. »

And without even waiting for the guy to ask another question, he turned around. He walked with total assurance, no hesitation in his steps. The guy was convinced he had already won.