The notes had started two weeks ago. Slipped between his textbooks, folded into his gym bag, taped carefully to the cold metal of Locker 17.
"You look better when you smile."
"I know what you do after practice… and I'd like to join."
"Meet me here. Midnight."
At first, Ryan thought it was a prank. The soccer team was notorious for stupid jokes, and he was used to being the quiet one, the one they didn't notice until they needed a sub. But the handwriting was neat, deliberate, intimate in a way no prank could be. Whoever it was, they weren't mocking him. They wanted him.
That night, he stood in the locker room long after practice had ended. The gym lights buzzed faintly, half the bulbs dark, throwing shadows across the rows of lockers. His heart hammered as he touched the cool metal door of number seventeen.
"Thought you wouldn't come," a voice whispered from behind.
Ryan spun. Chris stepped out from the far corner, the captain of the basketball team, tall, broad-shouldered, sweat still drying along his neck from his late workout. His smirk was lazy, confident, but his eyes burned with something hungrier.
"You?" Ryan stammered. "It was you?"
Chris shrugged, stepping closer until the air between them thickened. "Did you think I hadn't noticed you? Always watching me change, biting your lip like you don't even know you're doing it." He reached past Ryan, fingers brushing his knuckles as he opened the locker. Another folded note sat waiting, but Chris plucked it out and pressed it to Ryan's chest. "This one says kiss me."
Ryan's throat went dry. "We can't… not here…"
But Chris's mouth was already on his, hot and demanding. The kiss tasted of salt and danger, of secrets waiting to explode. Ryan's back hit the lockers with a metallic clang, but he didn't care. He melted into it, hands fisting in Chris's shirt, every nerve alive.
Clothes came undone in frantic pulls,Chris's hoodie tossed to the bench, Ryan's shirt pushed up as Chris's palms roamed his chest. Every touch was both greedy and patient, like Chris was memorizing the shape of him.
"Been thinking about this for months," Chris breathed against his ear, his voice rough with want. "Locker 17 was the only way to get your attention."
Ryan gasped when Chris's mouth trailed down his neck, teeth scraping lightly. His hands trembled as Chris guided him lower, the cold bench pressing into the backs of his thighs as he sat. Chris stood between his knees, their hips grinding together, heat sparking every time.
"You're shaking," Chris murmured, tilting his chin up to claim his mouth again. "But you're not stopping me."
"I don't want to stop," Ryan admitted, his words muffled against Chris's lips.
The slow burn built into fire. Chris's hands explored boldly now, slipping under the waistband of Ryan's shorts, coaxing sighs and soft moans that echoed faintly off the tiled walls. Ryan arched into every touch, every stroke, surrendering piece by piece until the room was filled with nothing but their ragged breaths and the sharp clatter of lockers as Ryan's hand gripped the metal for balance.
When Ryan finally came undone, it was with Chris's name caught on his lips, his body trembling as Chris held him through it. And when Chris followed, jaw tight, eyes locked on Ryan's, it felt less like a secret fling and more like a claim.
After, Chris tucked the crumpled note into Ryan's gym bag, smirking through his heavy breaths. "Locker 17 isn't just a hiding spot anymore. It's ours."
Ryan's chest heaved, his lips swollen, but he managed a breathless laugh. "You're insane."
"Maybe." Chris pressed a softer kiss to his temple, so unlike the hunger from before. "But you'll meet me here again."
Ryan didn't answer, he didn't need to.
The next day dragged like a weight around Ryan's chest. Every class blurred together, every lecture drowned beneath the echo of last night; Chris's mouth, Chris's voice, Chris's body pinning him against the lockers like he belonged there. He caught himself zoning out, tracing the new note in his pocket with restless fingers, replaying every second until he thought he'd go mad.
By the time practice ended, his stomach churned with nerves and something darker. Want. He showered quickly, lingered too long in front of Locker 17, then forced himself to leave before anyone noticed. But when midnight came, he was back, heart racing, palms sweating, trying not to imagine the whole team discovering him here.
Chris was already waiting, leaned casually against the lockers, arms folded across his chest. The faint glow from the exit sign carved his face in shadows, making his grin look sharper.
"You came," Chris murmured, like he'd never doubted it.
Ryan swallowed hard. "You knew I would."
"Of course." Chris pushed away from the lockers, closing the space between them with deliberate slowness. His hand found Ryan's jaw, tilting his face up. "You couldn't resist me last night… you won't tonight, either."
The kiss was softer this time, coaxing rather than stealing, but the fire underneath was the same. Ryan clutched at Chris's hoodie, pulling him closer, until Chris's hand slid lower, gripping his hip and pressing their bodies flush. The heat between them grew unbearable, their breath fogging the cold air of the locker room.
Clothes fell again, slower, less frantic, as though savoring mattered more than speed. Chris eased Ryan back onto the bench, straddling him, kissing him until Ryan forgot the world outside even existed. Every touch was deliberate. Fingers trailing down his chest, lips teasing across his collarbone, hips rolling with unhurried hunger.
Ryan's nerves dissolved into pleasure, every sound he made swallowed by Chris's mouth. His body responded instinctively, opening, yielding, craving more. Chris's dominance was firm but not cruel, guiding him, coaxing him past fear and into raw need.
"Look at you," Chris whispered, their foreheads pressed together as his hand moved lower, bolder. "The quiet one completely undone for me."
Ryan moaned, unable to answer, but the way he arched into Chris's touch said enough. The world outside, the danger, the risk of discovery, only sharpened the edge of every sensation.
When release finally came, it was overwhelming, Ryan shuddering against Chris as though he might break apart. Chris held him through it, claiming his mouth again, drawing out every last tremor until Ryan collapsed against his chest, boneless and spent.
Chris followed soon after, groaning softly into Ryan's neck, his grip tight, almost possessive. They sat there, tangled together in the half-dark, sweat cooling on their skin, hearts still racing.
This time, there was no teasing smirk. Chris's expression softened, his thumb brushing along Ryan's cheek. "You're mine now," he said simply, no arrogance, just certainty.
Ryan should have been scared, but instead a strange calm settled over him. He nodded, breathless. "Yours."
Chris's grin returned then, slow and wicked, before he pressed one last kiss to his lips. "Tomorrow night. Same place."
And Ryan didn't even need a note to know he'd come back.