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Kirara will admit that she’s not someone who drinks a lot.
But the chances of her staying sober when she’s at one of Hakari’s parties are near zero.
The first one is usually downed with the intention to ‘get into the mood.’ The second is to ignore how Gojo-sensei has his hand down Aoi’s skirt, who’s more often than not buzzed out of her mind.
The third goes down quickly when she sees Hayato and Rei making out in a corner, because then Kirara has a reason to eye fuck Hakari. And shit, why wouldn’t she? He always burns hottest when he’s playing poker, when he’s leaned forward against the table as he stares at the others like he’s trying to psych them out.
Knowing him, he probably is.
She takes another sip of her drink. Heat travels down Kirara’s throat, then her chest as the alcohol burns its way down. It manages to travel lower still, pooling in her groin.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Hakari get up from the table he was at, waving off his winnings like they’re nothing.
Shit, he’s walking over to her.
Discreetly, Kirara crosses her legs where she’s sitting on the beat-down couch, fingers gripping her cup a little tighter. “Enjoying yourself?” His voice is closer than she expects it at first. The couch sinks with his weight, and he’s so close they’re nearly touching. Not quite, though. Hakari’s leaning towards her, too, face propped up on his palm as he awaits her answer.
“Yeah,” Kirara answers, before she forgets the question, “This is… nice.” Her brain stutters for a brief second, before she gives an awkward little laugh, shifting the cup to her left hand to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, trying to not look too flushed. Anything to diffuse the tension she's made up in her head.
“Better than staying holed up in your room all day, right?”
Kirara’s smile loses some of its spark, and Hakari immediately fumbles to correct himself, “I mean, I know why, Kirara. We all do.” We all miss Airi. “But… I’m just glad to see you having fun again.”
When had Kirara stopped going out after Airi died on that mission? Maybe it was after she received her ashes in the urn she keeps on her top shelf, because jujutsu sorcerers don’t have family who care about them.
But Airi was her family. And maybe, when she took Kirara shopping to buy her her first dress, Airi thought of her the same way too.
A nudge to Kirara’s shoulder breaks her free of her thoughts. When she looks up from her cup again, Hakari’s head is tilted as he looks at her, a small smile on his face, “Would hate to see that pretty face frowning.”
Kirara just stares at him incredulously, before she giggles. Hakari looks a bit surprised, but then he laughs too, and soon enough, they’re laughing hard enough that even Gojo-sensei can’t help but look over in their direction.
“You’re ridiculous, Kin-chan.”
“Don't tell me you invited him again.”
Kirara freezes where she's standing just outside the door to the party only a week later. Her hand is still on the handle, midway through the process of pushing it open. Surely they're not–
“Who?”
Hakari's voice is gruff, like he's been asleep for the better half of the day.
“You know, Kirara. All he does is nurse the same drink all night. Bo-ring.”
“Yeah, her.”
“What?”
“I invited her.”
The silence that follows is deafening even with the music blaring from the speakers at the far end of the room.
Kirara gives it a beat or two before she walks in. At least three pairs of eyes flick to her, but she's only seeking out Hakari's, who's pouring drinks at the nearest table. Rei is pointedly avoiding her gaze while Hayato just stares at him, disappointed. Hakari then gives her a smile and a wave, and Kirara feels her cheeks flood with color.
Kirara knows why they're looking, of course. She'd ditched the boring old boxy t-shirt from their uniform for a black tank top that hugged her torso like a dream. It stretched over the slight swell of her chest, a newfound change since going on hormones but a welcome one regardless.
She grabs a drink, politely greeting her classmates before she walks further into the room, her heart still pounding as she seeks out a place to sit. Kirara had been sent on a mission earlier that afternoon to hunt down a grade 3 curse, but since she'd wrapped it up quickly, she'd decided to drop by. This was always a good place to unwind. And since catching Hakari's attention, Kirara had good incentive to frequent it even more.
Lingering by a couch, Kirara is about to take a seat when a cold hand lands on her bare shoulder. She stiffens almost immediately. Hakari wouldn't touch her unprompted like this, so who–
“Kirara-chan, aren't you dolled up today?”
Kirara knows that voice. She's never heard it so close though, for better or for worse. Gojo-sensei's hand is firm on her shoulder as he spins her around, and even with the blindfold on, Kirara can tell he's eyeing her tits. He's tall enough that he takes up all of the view, effectively blocking her from looking at anyone else. Reluctantly, Kirara looks up at Gojo, plastering a polite but shy smile onto her face. She musters a soft, “Thank you,” Unable to look at him for too long. Gojo tends to have that effect on people.
His hand trails a bit lower on Kirara’s arm, grasping her upper arm lightly, his fingers freezing, “All this for your sensei?” He's leaning closer then, bending down ever so slightly to reach her level, “You didn't need to try so hard, Kirara-chan. All you had to do was come to me.”
And while usually this kind of attention from her teacher would make Kirara preen, something about it rubs her the wrong way this time. Maybe it's because she's seen Gojo all over Aoi too much for her to think she's anything special. Maybe a part of her brain is unhelpfully supplying her with the fact that Gojo-sensei is probably a creep for buying his underage students alcohol.
Either way, as Gojo's fingers trail their way down to her forearm, Kirara shifts her body away slightly, and her teacher's face visibly drops.
“Need another drink, sensei?”
Kirara is always grateful to hear Hakari's voice, but this time, it feels like a godsend. It breaks Gojo out of whatever stalemate he was in, and their teacher is quick to recover, grinning as he grabs the red cup, tipping it in Kirara's direction before he's off.
Hakari looks confused by Gojo's hasty departure, who usually has more than a few things to talk about. Still, he turns to Kirara with a shrug and the same cheeky smile he always wears around her, nodding to the old couch.
“Wanna tell me about your mission today?”
She plops down on the creaky armchair beside Hakari, jostling the alcohol in her cup ever so slightly.
And maybe for the first time, but certainly not the last, their hands creep closer as they talk, eventually intertwining. Neither of them can tell if the flush in their cheeks is from the alcohol or something equally as intoxicating in the air between them.
When did it happen first?
When was the first time Kirara found herself in Hakari's arms after one too many drinks?
She doesn't remember.
She can't remember, not when Hakari's hands are fumbling to pull her closer by the waist, fingers slightly shaky where they're digging into her hips.
It's too dark in this corner of the room. Hakari’s lips miss Kirara's only once, accidentally kissing the side of her mouth before he rights himself, slotting their lips together. It's messy. Sloppy. Kirara thinks she tastes the cheap, poorly distilled vodka in his mouth, but maybe it's the same thing she drank. She doesn't know. His tongue swipes at her lips, then her teeth, and her brain that's moving terribly slowly finally catches on. Kirara parts her lips, and her breath is snatched away from her lungs almost immediately. She's never seen Hakari kiss anyone before, but she briefly wonders if he's ever kissed anyone else this hard before. Jealousy is an ugly, irrational thing. It coils in her chest before Hakari's hands move to the hem of her tank top, fingers brushing beneath the fabric to find warm skin like permission.
Jealousy gives way to want before her mind can catch up. Traitorous little thing. She nods against his lips, a soft “Please,” pushing its way out before she can stop herself.
Distantly, Kirara knows she paints a pathetic picture right now. She's slumped against the wall, Hakari's thigh pressed in between her legs. She's dizzy with need, blood rushing south rapidly, and before she realizes it, she's already hard. It doesn't deter Hakari though. He presses closer, till Kirara is balanced on his thigh, and that's when she feels it. He's hard, too. And from what she feels, he's bigger and thicker than her.
She didn't think she could get any harder.
Kirara's eyes are wet when she looks up at Hakari. His hands are cold, making goosebumps rise where his fingers trail up to her tits, pushing her top out of the way. Kirara's nipples pebble instantly, from the cold, the want, the need; all of it. He kneads her breasts firmly– maybe a little too firmly. They’re still so sensitive. It makes Kirara whimper, and Hakari's eyes flick up to her face like he's trying to gauge how much she likes this.
He must see something he likes, because he wets his lips with his tongue before leaning closer, burying his face in Kirara's neck with a sigh, soft kisses pressed to unmarred skin as he whispers, “You're gorgeous, you know that right?”
His voice is uncharacteristically gentle when his hands are groping her tits hard enough to make her skin turn red, but Kirara wouldn't have it any other way.
A heady giggle leaves her lips, and Hakari pulls away with a bemused look, one brow raised like he's asking her what's so funny.
“N-nothing,” She stammers between a laugh, but it turns into a gasp when Hakari reaches between them to pull her cock out of her pants. Kirara's legs tremble when he swipes his thumb over her already wet tip, jerking her off to full hardness. “So wet for me,” He murmurs, and Kirara's eyes flutter. She's pathetically close already.
Thankfully, Hakari lets her go. He pulls himself out of his pants, and next to his length, Kirara's looks like–
“Your clit is so cute,” Hakari groans, grasping both of their cocks with ease, jerking them off together. Stars burst behind Kirara’s eyes. She's so turned on it hurts, dick twitching pathetically in Hakari's firm, calloused hand.
It hardly takes a minute of hearing him groan into her ear before Kirara comes, release watery where it gets on Hakari's hand. She mumbles a weak apology, but her heart's hardly in it. Because Kirara's still on cloud nine when Hakari whispers sweet praise into her ear, and before she knows it, she's dropping to her knees, surprising both Hakari and herself.
Or maybe not.
Kirara takes him into her mouth slowly, making Hakari groan and curse softly above her, fist hitting the wall with a quiet thud. She knows, somewhere in the back of her head, that they're not alone. There's people just out of sight, but right now, she could care less. Not when she can feel Hakari's thick cock twitching in her mouth, and she swirls her tongue around the tip before she takes him deeper. Kirara almost gags, but she holds herself back. She swallows around the length of his dick, tongue tracing the veins along the bottom of his shaft. Her mouth waters even as sour pre-come floods her tastebuds, bobbing her head to take him deeper. Hakari’s tip hits the back of her throat, and this time, Kirara does actually gag a little, and he pulls her off to let her breathe.
She's back on him as soon as she recovers, though, nose buried in his pubes every time she bobs her head. Kirara feels dizzy from his musk, and soon enough, she's just keeping her jaw slack as Hakari shallowly fucks her mouth till his thrusts get frantic. His hips stutter, and he comes down her throat, which Kirara swallows gratefully without a second thought.
Kirara doesn't know when he pulls her back onto her feet, but she does come to when he kisses her. She can feel her own cock throbbing where she's tucked herself back into her pants, but her hands are resting on Hakari's broad shoulders. That's a problem she'll deal with later.
Hakari pulls away slightly, laughing breathily, “You swallowed that?”
The question catches Kirara off guard. She smiles lazily, resting her forehead against his, “It tasted good, Kin-chan. You tasted good.”
Hakari gets a strange look on his face then. Kirara doesn't think she'll ever forget it.
His hands tighten on her waist, and Kirara gets the feeling this wouldn't be the last.
And why would it be, when it’s so easy for Hakari to pull her away when their classmates start getting a little too drunk?
Kirara knows Hakari’s bed like she knows her own now. It’s those same beige silk sheets she falls into almost every night, regardless of whether or not there’s a party.
You never need a reason to fuck, anyways.
Maybe she sees something different in his eyes tonight, though. Hakari’s going down on her, spreading her legs slow enough to make color rise in Kirara’s cheeks. She wants to tell him to hurry, but fuck, she can’t get anything out when he’s looking at her like he’s going to eat her up. Hakari presses a kiss to her navel, and Kirara feels the butterflies in her stomach do somersaults.
“You're always so fuckin’ pretty,” He breathes against her skin, nuzzling into the softness of her stomach.
The kisses are trailed down her tummy, and then her painfully hard dick. He kisses the tip, then moves lower still. Hakari’s hands grasp her thighs firmly to pull her legs up, before he kisses her perineum. Kirara makes a soft noise of surprise, legs twitching slightly above her as she tries to prop herself up and fails. The next kiss is pressed to her rim, which flutters a little at the attention. Her heart is in her throat as Hakari laves his tongue over her hole, testing the waters. When Kirara’s head hits the pillow with a soft sigh, he doubles down, right hand moving up to grab the base of her cock. Hakari squeezes it lightly, and Kirara whimpers, body untensing as he licks a little more firmly over her hole. They've never done this without lube, but Kirara is loose enough that she swallows up the first finger pressed inside her. She mourns the loss of Hakari's firm hand on her length, but isn't given much time to dwell on it when his thick finger is carving its way through familiar walls.
“Mmh,” Kirara whines as her own fingers grab blindly at the sheets below her for comfort, “Please, ah–”
She never has to ask, though. A second is stuffed inside her quickly, shallowly fucking its way in, Hakari’s fingers scissoring slightly to prep her. “I don't need– Just hurry…!” Her complaints taper off into a moan when a third finger joins the two, making Kirara's legs kick out. The pads of his fingers press onto her prostate, Hakari finding it with ease now that he knows her body like the back of his hand, playing her like a drum.
“Are you sure you're ready?” His voice is low even when Kirara is whining and twitching, cock leaking rivulets down her pale stomach, “Maybe you need a little more. One more finger?” He offers, and while he's fisted Kirara before, that's not what she needs right now.
“No, I don't,” She gasps, one hand grasping Hakari's hair, her fingers tangling into the locks, “Please, Kin-chan, please–”
Fuck, how could he say no when she begs so prettily?
It would be a crime if he didn't slide his fingers out of her, gently enough to make her sigh. Hakari straightens up, reaching a hand into his sweatpants to fish out his thick cock. It's hard and pretty, too, with veins that beg for Kirara's tongue on them along the shaft. Just the way Kirara likes it. Her mouth waters and she has to fight the urge to not just get up and suck him off right there, and she doubts she'll be allowed to with the way Hakari is grabbing her thighs yet again to hike her up. Kirara hears the cap of a bottle being popped open, and then there’s the sound of Hakari lathering his cock with lube. His tip is pressed to her hole, which swallows it up greedily, fluttering and betraying Kirara before she even has a chance to beg. Her head spins as Hakari pushes into her slow enough to make want blossom into need, filling her up patiently to ease her into it.
He's only about halfway in when Kirara comes weakly, spurting thin ropes of come onto her stomach that only get thicker as Hakari buries himself deeper. By the time his cock is snug inside her hole, making Kirara's stomach bulge slightly with the size of it, she's hard again.
“Come on,” She whimpers, trying to rock herself down on his cock and failing with the hold Hakari has on her. Kirara's eyes are watery, but she can still see Hakari looming over her, brows furrowed with the concentration of not fucking into her too fast.
Even if all she takes is his cock now, anyways. Kirara feels like her body was always made for it. Feels like he's carved a permanent spot into her.
The thought makes her clench slightly, making Hakari groan above her, hips bucking forward to rock into her sweet spot. It makes them both moan, Kirara's hands moving to weakly grab onto Hakari's shoulders, nails digging into his back as he fills her up. Her legs cross over his back as his thrusts start slow enough to ache, just grinding into her prostate at first.
It feels like hours pass before Hakari picks up the pace, going from controlled to frantic as he chases his high. Kirara doesn't know when she comes, only that stars burst behind her eyelids when she does. It's almost magical when Hakari fills her up, warmth spreading through her insides like goo.
Only when Hakari collapses to her side, pulling Kirara into his arms does she realize that there's warmth in her chest, too. It's blossoming slowly, an emotion much like love which she didn't think she actually felt.
But his arms are warm where he holds her. In fact, Hakari is warm all over, and there's even warmth in his eyes that she finds when she looks up at him.
“What are you looking at?” Kirara murmurs, breaking eye contact when it gets to be too much for her.
Hakari brushes her hair out of her face, before cupping her cheek gently, “You were the one who complained when I didn't hold you after our first time, you know.”
Color reluctantly blooms in Kirara's cheeks as she pretends to pull away, “Whatever.”
A swift flick to her forehead has Kirara frowning as she looks back up at Hakari. He pulls her right back, nuzzling her cheek.
This time, Kirara doesn't pull away.
She doesn't find out that Hakari got suspended from him.
Kirara hears it from Gojo, who can hardly ever keep his big mouth shut, even when told to.
“Apparently he got into trouble with one of the higher-ups,” He had said, shrugging as he ripped the cover off his lollipop, “I mean, don't get your sensei wrong, I never see eye to eye with them, but Hakari seems pretty keen on seeing himself out before he's kicked out.”
And then, he leaned closer to Kirara, who looked a bit horrified, adding, “Between you and me, he's already been suspended. But I'll let him have this small mercy.”
She finds herself running to Hakari's room before her brain catches up to her, where he's nursing a black eye with an ice pack as he throws clothes into his suitcase blindly.
There's a brief moment of understanding when their eyes meet, and then Kirara is rushing over to help him pack, not saying a word. She doesn't think there needs to be anything said.
It doesn't matter why or where Hakari is going. Kirara thinks she'll follow all the same.