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After Game Locker Room Fun	By : PnKnG Category: +S through Z > Wakfu Views: 1489 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Wakfu, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. else there would be way more smut in the show :P

Chapter List
- 1-3. After Game Locker Room Fun
- 1
This fanfic is a cowriting between me and Freerunnercho ( http://cartoon.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=1296872251 ) so check her profile for more smutty goddess ^_^

Kriss widened his stance, one arm back for balance, the other just slightly in front of his chest, waiting. For what, yet, he had no idea. Maud had that way about her when she was playing, everything he thought he knew about Boufbowl rearranging itself into this new pattern, this new method of game play that was purely and brilliantly Maud.
Even then, when he’d had no idea of her secret, had no fathoming that the great Masked Boufbowler could be not only someone who knew, someone he cared for, but Maud of all people, he could see it. Even then, he could tell how great she was, a natural in every sense of the word. Like Boufbowl was made for her, not a sport but a way of life. In fact, it was this very ideal that made him feel so stupid, finding out the way he had. That it had been her behind that mask---challenging him, fighting him, helping him---and he had not known… It was unforgivable. It could have been no one else. He knew that now. Who else would have put their reputation on the line, thrown an obviously won match the way she had, giving him that second chance at defeating her, at staying alive. And who else would have given him the game of a lifetime in the process? Though whether she’d simply let him make that final goal, he didn’t want to think about. No, there was still so much else to think about. So much else that had been left unsaid all those years. Foolishly. And in every sense, his own damned fault.
It was by some sort of miracle that he was training with her now, given this opportunity that, only days ago would have been impossible, his head on a platter for the stadium’s amusement. Somehow, again with the help of those friends but not friends, that Wakfu loving runt most of all, he’d been given a second chance, another moment with Maud, just them and a Boufball and the field, like old times. Now all he needed to do was figure out how to use it.
Of course, that was hard to consider when just the thought of her, the sight of her standing on the other end of the field, perfect and strong and more out of reach now than ever before, was enough to distract him even from the game itself. All he could think of was the much to sudden, much to short memory of how he’d wrapped his arms around her, stifled her shock with a kiss. All to protect her, of course. Just to keep her secret safe. Not because he loved her, had loved her for years. Not for something a trivial and impossible and heartbreaking as that. Of course not.
“Boufbolobolo!” Maud’s shout ripped him from his reverie, but not quick enough, the lightning fast attack already connecting with his chest, pushing him back a good couple hundred feet despite his rooted stance, hands raw from the effort of keeping him righted. And, as humiliating as it was, with the sudden loss of momentum, so came a loss of strength, his knees buckling under the strain of holding back her attack. Such a strong attack, even stronger than it had been back then. Just like her.
“Kriss?!” Maud cried, running across the field and towards him, his heart stuttering at the image of long blue-black hair whipping in the breeze, a perfectly beautiful face marred by a worry she shouldn’t ever have to direct at him, at anything. He shakily got to his feet.
“I’m fine,” he coughed, the dust still rising from the three hundred foot scar he’d made across the field in attempts to block her. “Nice shot.”
“You could have blocked it easily,” she raised an eyebrow at him. “Or evaded it at least. What happened?”
His eyes widened just slightly out of reflex, heat rising embarrassingly to his face. So he turned away from her, throwing a hand up dismissively. “Nothing, nothing. You’re just good, that’s all. Better than I expected.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, offering none of his usual chiding, no edge of playful competitiveness. “I’ll be more prepared this time.” And with that, he took back his place on the field, Maud staring after her for a moment, confused, before returning to her spot as well, Boufball already in hand. Making an even stronger effort not to look at her too often, or too closely, Kriss waited for her next shot.
But it was no use. No matter how much focus he thought he had on the game, on the way the Boufball flew through the air towards him, on the game play and strategy, it was nothing compared to the effect she had on him. Nothing existed but her, not even Boufbowl. And what was worse… was not knowing if she felt even remotely the same. He doubted it. Had cut denied even the slightest possibility since the moment he’d left her behind for Bonta. He’d never regretted anything more.
After what felt like his millionth attempt at getting past her various methods of offense, he’d had enough. “I’m done for the day,” he huffed, turning towards the path to the locker room in obvious frustration he didn’t know how to hide. He couldn’t tell which bothered him more: that, for the first time in his life, he found himself unable to perform like the Boufbowl star that he was, or that, out of anyone, Maud was the one who had to witness it.
It wasn’t until he’d burst through the door and sat himself down on the locker room bench that it began to sink in. He’d never stopped caring for her. And by the looks of things, he never would. He sighed, running a hand over his face. How he ever managed to compete alongside her, he’ll never know. Especially when just being near her, just seeing her play, no mask, no masculine uniform, nothing but Maud, perfectly impossibly talented, painfully attractive Maud, sent a desire through him that he couldn’t control. A desire that had him reaching a hand between his legs to rest absently over the already prominent bulge in his pants. Everything about her, arms, legs, shoulders, neck, face... chest, lips… That hand suddenly found itself inching beneath the waistband of those pants, cupping sensitive, too hard heat.
“Kriss…?” Maud’s voice called from behind the wall of lockers, the click of the doorway letting him know that she was inside. Looking for him. He ripped his hand out of his pants and shot to his feet just as she rounded the corner.
“What are you doing in here?” He scowled, hand shaking almost guiltily. “This is the men’s locker room.”
She stared at him for a moment before her eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening as she walked to the bench across from him and took off her shoes. “There aren’t any women’s locker rooms yet. You’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Kriss paled, holding onto his scowl for dear life, though it probably shifted into more of a grimace as she went to remove her shirt. He spun away from her. “You can do whatever you want. You’ve proven that much already.”
“What’s your problem, Kriss?” She hissed, the sounds of her getting to her feet and walking up behind him making his heart race. She placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to face her. It took all the restraint her had not to look below her neck. “You would think, after all this time-”
“Things change, Maud,” he said without thinking, the flash of hurt in her eyes physically painful. And the feel of her hand pulling away from him like he’d burned her even more so. But just as quickly as it had come, that hurt was replaced by a cold, calculating stoicism.
“Yeah. I guess they do,” she shrugged, hands motioning to remove her last bits of clothing, to which Kriss quickly looked away from again, listening to the sounds of her walking away from him and into the shower, the water bursting to life, probably falling in rivulets down her naked, perfect body.
“Damnit…” He hissed, punching at the closest locker, reveling in the pain. He gritted his teeth, looking down at his shoes with distaste. “What am I doing?” Suddenly, he was exhausted, head falling back against the locker and eyes closing. It wasn’t her fault he was in love with her. He didn’t have to take out his agitation on… In love? His eyes snapped back open, heart rocketing into his throat. In love… He couldn’t be in love with her. That wasn’t how it worked. Not with years between a simple kiss with no means of communication, no attempt at a relationship that probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. It just… didn’t make sense. But he’d said it. And meant it. And he was about to fuck it all up if he didn’t do something. Not to say that it wasn’t beyond saving, if there was anything there at all. But he wasn’t getting anywhere with what if’s and maybe’s either. In fact, he wasn’t going anywhere at all at this rate. So it wouldn’t hurt to apologize, right? Right.
He was already standing outside the shower before he could stop himself, back to the curtain, trying not to imagine what was going on in there. “Maud?” He whispered, wondering, when she didn’t instantly demand he leave, if she could even hear him at all. “Maud, I… Sorry about that, I just…” What was he doing? He swallowed thickly, looking at the wall as though it might tell him what he ought to say next. It didn’t. But he was in for the long haul now. “You know I missed you right?” She was still silent, a pregnant pause following those words that left him feeling small, childish. Maybe she wasn’t even in there.
“That’s it? You missed me?” She scoffed from behind the curtain.
An embarrassed sort of anger pulsed through him. “I did! I mean… That’s not it, but I just… I thought you should know.”
“Well thanks,” she chuckled sarcastically, voice muffled slightly, like she was looking away from him. “Glad to know that’s settled.”
“Why are you making this so difficult?!” He shouted through gritted teeth, hands clenched at his side. This wasn’t how he’d seen this going at all.
“Because all you can say is that you missed me, but you can’t even tell me why!” She yelled, her voice clearer now, like she was… Kriss froze glancing to his right to find exactly what he knew would be there: a completely naked, completely furious Maud. If his jaw dropped like he thought it did, she didn’t seem to notice, her tirade from done. “All this time, I’ve thought of you. All this time I’ve kept up with your wins, your fame, and not once, not ONCE have you thought to see how I was doing! To see what MY life had become since you left for Brakmar!” She was shaking with her rage now, hurt evident and plain on her face, but all he could see was how the water left on her skin was cascading down between her cleavage, how all those years of keeping up with the men of Boufbowl had sharpened her figure in a way that was awe inspiring. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. “Are you even listening to-” She swung at him then, his Boufbowl instincts coming back to him for one blessed moment, her wrist caught in the air between them like there’d been no weight behind it at all. She blinked, anger shifting to confusion, shifting to a sort of embarrassed panic that he couldn’t help but find completely adorable. Which was why, without thinking, he suddenly found himself pulling her into him and kissing her fiercely.
It was over far too quickly, Maud jerking backwards, a hand over her mouth and the shower curtain now conspicuously shielding her perfect body. “What are you doing?”
Something I’ve wanted to do every day since the day I left, he wanted to say, but the look of shock on her face was enough to make him pause. Maybe he’d read her wrong. Maybe he’d been nothing but a friend since the beginning. Maybe it was just him. Maybe it had always been… just him. He looked down, away from her stunned expression, and whispered, “It was nothing. Sorry I-” But as he turned to leave, he felt that already familiar grip on his shoulder, his heart all but stopping.
“I just asked you a question,” she said, her voice low, implying. He turned around slowly, the look in her eyes now drastically, arousingly different. “What are you doing?”
Kriss couldn’t move for a moment, not entirely able to convince himself that what was happening was real. But as Maud let the curtain fall away, revealing herself willingly now, he couldn’t help but smirk. “This,” he said, pushing her back into the shower and kissing her with every ounce of passion and need he’d held in since their last.
She gasped into his mouth as the water struck them, raining onto their heads and shoulders, drenching Kriss’ clothes and splaying white hair messily around his face. After pushing it back to kiss Maud again, wetly, hotly, he began to undo and pry sticky, saturated fabric from his legs, a shiver running through him despite the steam of the shower when Maud decided to help. The pants dropped to the floor with a splash, Kriss kicking them out of the way and wrapping Maud once again in his arms, fingers tangling in her hair and pulling, giving him access to her neck and shoulders and lower, lips kissing her collarbone and further until teeth were nipping playfully at hard, sensitive nipples. Maud groaned, shivering against him as he took one into his mouth, sucking greedily, aiming to pry more of those beautiful sounds from between her lips.
His focus was instantly shattered by the feel of a soft but callused hand wrapping around his cock, stroking the length slowly, teasingly, circling the head with her thumb. “Nngh…” he breathed, licking at one nipple and then the other before straightening, arching his hips into her hand as he kissed her again. He could kiss her forever and be happy, he realized. He didn’t need anything else… Except-
“Hah!” he hissed as she squeezed the bottom of his shaft, smirking when he twitched within her grasp. He need for control was obvious, admirable and beyond sexy, but he would have none of it. Grinning back at her Kriss snaked one hand down her arm and to the small of her back, the other between her legs, two fingers plunging without warning into the tight heat of her arousal. Maud cried out in pleasure, rocking her hips against his hand and murmuring his name against his lips, going silent as his thumbs worked circles onto her clit, her orgasm rushing through her. She’d never looked so absolutely, deliciously perfect. And Kriss couldn’t contain himself anymore.
Making sure to ride the tail end of her climax, Kriss slung an arm under her knee and sheathed himself completely, filling her, the girl he’d apparently never stopped loving, the sensation of ultimate tightness and pleasure second to the understanding that he could have her, after all this time. She was his now. It took every ounce of his restraint to keep from pounding into her at once, his legs shaking with the strain of holding back, each thrust slow and gentle, letting her adjust to his length, to their closeness. But it seemed Maud would not be outdone either, the girl giving him a defiant grin as she rocked her hips harshly forward, burying him as deeply into her as possible.
“Fuck, Maud!” He growled, the two of them shaking together, moving with short, sharp thrusts at first before she was clutching him desperately, Kriss pounding into her like he wanted, like it was the only thing that mattered. Like she was the only thing that mattered. So, keeping his pace, the angle mind numbing, he brought his hand back between them and worked out another rhythm on the core of her arousal, Maud shivering, panting, both of them so close he could feel it like an energy between them. And when she came, tightening perfectly around him, that was all he needed, following her over the edge and letting the tensing and untensing of her body milk him dry.
Moments passed, both of them standing under the still hot spray, letting it ease their muscles and their hearts until they could speak again. Kriss wasted no time, pulling her in for another kiss, soft and tender and saying everything his pride would allow. Not yet, at least.
“I’ve been wanted to do that for years,” he did say. She just rolled her eyes, hitting him lightly on the side of the head.
“Took you long enough.” Then she mimicked his kiss perfectly, just as much unspoken, waiting to be revealed. “So have I.”
- 1
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After Game Locker Room Fun