Touché (🍋Lemon GarouxReader🍋)

An Epée-ic Journey: Part One

The following ten or so days are just bliss as you spend them mostly in his room, your room, the fabled storage room. (But only after you've done your homework, of course. And you're still keeping up your training schedule with Shinbo. You are a very busy girl now.)
You almost float into class 3-2 every morning and no one suspects a thing. Tama just smirks and continues to make dangerously close innuendo but she knows better than to cross that line. You've always taken your class rep role seriously but now you complete all your tasks with an effortless and serene ease that even surprises Jirou as you both work on paperwork and logistics for the upcoming trip. You're positively glowing and once or twice it even crosses his mind to muster up the courage to tell you his feelings but this absurd idea is quickly quashed as soon as it appears.

"Let's ditch this joint," Garou whispers into your ear one lunchtime the following week as you sit between his legs on the school roof, the only place where you are unlikely to get caught, his hands wandering over your chest, letting you know exactly what he'd like to do instead.
His words and caresses are so terribly seductive. But you've never ditched school in your life and you're not going to start now. It would be so unbecoming of a class rep. Also, you've still got to meet with Shinbo straight after school.
"You know I can't," you sigh, disappointed.
"Then let's just do it here. Still got fifteen minutes," he suggests helpfully.
You whip around. "Are you completely mad?" your eyes wide.
He just grins back at you.
"Oh, right, I forgot," you shake your head. Of course he is. "Is the situation that dire?" you tease and move back closer to him to straddle him, sliding your hand carefully into his black school trousers. You might not be so daring as to have him fuck you up here but if you sit like this, you can be very discreet indeed.
"You have no idea," he shakes his head as you unbutton, unzip his uniform, pull out his shirt, wrap your hand around his terribly hard cock and start to move, slowly, sensuously, wishing even more that it could be inside you instead.
He can't help himself in joining you, sneaking his hand under your skirt and into your little white panties, finding you already starting to get excited, dipping his fingers in your wetness, bringing them up to your clit, stroking you as slowly as you are him, making you sigh as you lean in to kiss him, lightly, no tongue, very demure and school appropriate as your hand continues to please his cock.
It doesn't take you both very long to bring each other to mutual satisfaction, your arousal spurred on by being in this somewhat exposed place. Neither of you realise it really, but you're both quickly becoming little exhibitionists.
Fifteen minutes proves to be just enough to complete your dirty, dirty business and be back in class in the nick of time. It's gratifying but you feel like there's a little (or in this case, not so little at all) something missing. It's alright, because you'll complete the main event later tonight and you smile to yourself as you copy down the notes in your physics lab, his thigh pressed against yours, as always.

The next day, Wednesday, is when there is a hiccup. Usually, there is no particular order that you arrive in. Sometimes Garou is already in class when you come in and sometimes he saunters in just before the bell, so you don't think much of it when you arrive half an hour early and he's nowhere to be seen.
You glance at the door as the bell rings but there's still no sign of him. This is a little strange but not worryingly so. It only becomes worrying when homeroom is over and you're heading to your first class, world literature, and there's still no hide nor hair of him.
You find it a little hard to focus in class, thinking of a million reasons as to why he isn't here, some more sinister than others, though you still manage to finish all your work and answer all questions correctly, as is expected of you.
You poke at your fried rice at lunch as Tama babbles away about her current manga obsession next to you, finally growing too annoyed at your lack of attention.
"Just fucking dial that number already," she rolls her eyes before slurping up a long piece of noodle.
"He doesn't have one," you exhale in frustration.
Tama looks at you bewildered. "How can someone not have a phone in this day and age? Fucking idiot," before slurping up another tasty noodle. "Don't worry. He's a big boy. I'm sure he can handle anything."
She's probably right, but your worry doesn't dissipate and even Shinbo can tell your game is off today. He lifts his mask off his handsome face fifteen minutes into your training session after the other club members have gone home.
"Something's bothering you *Your Name*-chan," he sighs with a smile.
"No. Not at all!" you protest as you rip your own mask off. "Now, are we going to do this or not?"
He rolls his eyes but his expression is kind. "I can tell your mind's elsewhere. I don't think I'll be much use to you today."
"But we have to tr-!"
"Go sort out whatever you need to sort out," he says, unzipping his white jacket. "You don't always need to be so responsible."
You're torn because you really are that responsible and feel the need to stick closely to the training schedule but your concern has only grown throughout the day, so secretly you are pleased that Shinbo is calling time out on your session.