Fierce, violent kisses were exchanged in-between blows. An accidental grope during a grappling hold, a quick fondle during a sweeping kick, a moment longer spent pinning each other down. Their matches had evolved into an entirely different sort of battle.
The hatred stayed the same. The rivalry was even more evident. But when they had their private matches, it was not just all about winning by force, endurance and technique. It was about the pleasure of sex.
They had rules, unstated, and thought out in the heat of the moment. No biting tongues, no tools, and no talking. Whoever made the other give in and climax was the winner. The one who gave up the dominance lost. It was a game of letting one’s guard down and taking advantage of the surprise; a game of suddenly flipping their positions around. A game of stripping each other bare against their supposed will, and struggling against each other’s touches.
Enjoyment was stated to be the way one lost, and at the same time it was the only reason why they continued.
Sometimes, afterwards, Annie would call Mikasa a beast. She would insult her techniques, if Mikasa had lost. And sometimes, when Mikasa won, she would steal one of those kisses they pretended to hate, and say “I win” with all the satisfaction in the world.
And so their games always went. A match played out in the middle of the night with no witnesses. No scores kept, only the current result mattering. It begun with kicks and punches and grapples and throws and sweeps and tackles. Then when they were panting, exhausted and horny, it continued with different techniques.
They seemed to be wrestling when it was time for that part, both of them locked to each other closely with their bodies as combined chains. Back and forth they would rock, sometimes with Annie on top, and sometimes with Mikasa. After every tumble and flip they would lose one article of clothing, until they were near nude, their sweaty bodies joined in total.
Nude and wet, the game would continue with mouths and fingers, sucking, poking, biting and groping. They would bite at necks and fondle breasts, suck on nipples until they were sore and swollen, grope at asses until they were red and fine. Annie was always sure to go for Mikasa’s behind and feel up its strong muscles and surprisingly tender flesh. Mikasa would always enjoy Annie’s perky and small breasts the most, and tease the nipples until Annie groaned.
No words were ever spoken during the games, but they were never silent. During the initial phases they would only grunt, common for combat. But when they were nude, they would groan and gasp. And when they were at the final stage, when they focused their energy at stroking each other’s sexes, lap at the wetness or push their fingers inside, they would moan and cry out, and sound as loudly as possible.
Never did they break their rules, and never did they defy them. There was no love lost between these rivals, and they knew that they would never speak of their activities to anyone else. Maybe she was just relieving stress, Annie thought. Maybe she was just letting out her anger, Mikasa thought. And they pretended not to care for each other’s motives.
The pleasure was all that mattered, at the end of the day. The pleasure of winning, and proving their dominance, was just as sweet as the humiliating pleasure of losing. Even the orgasms so powerful that they made their legs weak, made them cry out louder than intended, made them sound weepy or weak, still meant a loss. And even a win was pitiful, when it meant that it was not their time to reach an orgasm of their own.
Maybe winning or losing were just terms they used to make sense of it all. Maybe they needed to justify it in terms they understood and applied to other games. Other explanations offered no comfort, so they accepted the concept for what it was, and didn’t question it ever.
And so their games continued; their passionate fits of fighting and fucking combined. Annie and Mikasa, rivals in every sense of the word, and lovers by only one definition. They exchanged fists and kisses, and hated and loved. Competition, battle or fight. Lovemaking, sex or fucking. No word rang true in explaining the situation, so they avoided speaking, and avoided confusion. Titles mattered little to them, as they found each other on the ground, naked, horny and filled with rage and lust. And ultimately, no one ever remembered who won.
