Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Takumi has learned how to clear the Gift-o-Matic’s crafting history.  And he only figures this out after finding out there was a secret section in the catalogue.

Sure, the main catalogue listed adult items.  The “massage gadget” wasn’t fooling anyone, and nobody seemed to bat an eye at the sexy magazine- that, as Takumi notices as he scrolls through the history idly, had apparently been crafted a dozen times already.  The ball gag or torture restraints maybe had other applications, few and far between as those may be.

The secret section he finds, entirely on accident, is a separate catalogue of other sexual health items.  He stands at the console, feeling his face turn more and more red as he scrolls through the list.  Condoms (latex or non-latex), lubricant (water-based and silicone-based), other toys… it was seemingly never-ending.  It was shockingly comprehensive.

“Ah, Sumino!  You found the secret catalogue, I see.  Nice work, only one other person has so far,” Sirei’s voice says in the absolute silence of the empty Rec Room as the little robot appears next to him out of nowhere.

Takumi yells and tries to cover the screen to hide what he’s been looking at.  God, this can’t be happening, why does he always show up when you least want him to?!

“C’mon now, don’t be embarrassed!  We have those for a reason.  Humanity figured that putting a bunch of young adults in close proximity for so long was bound to result in some, uh,” Sirei clears his throat, “some shenanigans, and it was decided since it’s inevitable, you all might as well have the tools to go about it safely.”

To Takumi, this is as bad as his father giving him the sex talk.  This is worse , since he can’t escape like he had then.  Sirei is standing between him and the exit to the Gift-o-Matic’s console room.

“So go ahead!  Make whatever your heart desires!  And you can choose to delete crafting history for items from the secret catalogue.”

And as suddenly as he’d shown up, Sirei is gone.

Takumi heaves a sigh of relief and looks back to the screen.  After considering for a few moments, he hits the craft button and waits for a few painful moments until the crafting is complete.

He picks up his new items and quickly stows them in his jacket before anyone else can see.

-

Back in the safety of his room (the door checked multiple times to ensure it was locked), Takumi tries on his new items.

Almost inexplicably, the harness fits perfectly around his hips, with little need for adjustments.  And the dildo he’d made was an exact match for the harness’s o-ring.  He looks at himself in the mirror, top half still covered under hoodie and jacket, and smiles.  Even if he never got to use it- which he doubted he would- it gives him a rush of euphoria to see the erect penis between his legs instead of the usual empty space where his penis should have been, in an ideal world.

He gives his new dick a tentative stroke, and then another, feeling a wave of arousal pool in his stomach.  It was intoxicating, really.

He sits back on his bed, putting one hand to work rubbing at his t-dick while the other moves in time on the strap-on.  The effect is immediate and he can’t help but let out a quiet moan.

Takumi’s eyes fall shut as he hits a rhythm, using his own wetness to lubricate his hand on the dildo.

His mind conjures up an image, a tall figure crouched on his hips, bouncing themselves on his cock.  Gloved hands on his shoulders, glasses fogged up from heavy breathing, gray hair tousled in the way only sex could, those blue eyes wide with pleasure-

Takumi stops, eyes opening again in horror and realization.  Am I really jacking off to Eito?

He thinks he’s going to be sick.  And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the doorbell rings.

Takumi really thinks he could ignore it.  That maybe if he pretended he wasn’t there, his unwanted visitor would give up and he could go back to his fantasy.  Not the one about Eito of course.  He would have to think of something else.  Something that didn’t involve the now-blind arch-villain who had ruined his last 100 days.

He thought maybe it worked and has just put his hand back on his t-dick when it rings again.

“Takumi?  It’s just me, I think I found the right room.  It certainly smells like yours.  I’d know that disgusting scent anywhere.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Well, speak of the Devil and he shall appear.  Takumi sighs, pulling on his boxers over the strap-on, tucking the length down along his leg.  Surely this wouldn’t take long.  “One sec, Eito.”  He situates his pants, rinses his hands in the sink, and then opens the door.

Sure enough, there Eito stands, that wide grin on his face no less creepy now that he is back on the team.  He invites himself in, barging past Takumi and flopping onto the couch.

“Can I… help you?” Takumi asks.

“What, I can’t want to come see my good buddy Takumi?  I thought we’re friends again,” Eito says, maddeningly cheerful.

“Friends might be a little generous,” Takumi says under his breath.  “Allies, maybe.”

Eito pouts.  “Fine, fine, I suppose I deserve some of your distrust.  I just wanted to chat, I guess, and I can’t imagine any of the others would be thrilled to see me either.”

Is that really all? Takumi thinks.  “Anything in particular you wanted to talk about?  Is something bothering you?”  He sits down on the foot of his bed.

Before answering, Eito takes a deep inhale through his nose.  He is quiet for a second, eyebrows furrowed in thought.  “It smells… different in here.  It reeks like you, of course, but there’s something else I just can’t put my finger on.”  He laughs.  “Maybe I need to burn out my nasal mucosa again.  It really is annoying how quickly that regrows.”

Takumi is silently thankful for Eito’s blindness, so the other man can’t see him blush.  He hadn’t really considered that Eito would be able to smell his arousal, but it made sense.  Even before losing his sight, Eito had a keen nose.  He struggles to think of an explanation- new soap, new cologne, anything , before noticing Eito silently opens his mouth and then closes it, his cheeks turning pink.

“…Eito?” Takumi asks, his voice cracking.  

Eito wets his lips.  “Was I interrupting something, Takumi?”

Stop saying my name like that! Takumi pleads internally.  “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eito stands and with surprising accuracy and speed makes his way to where Takumi is sitting.  “You’re a smart boy, give yourself some credit. I think you do.”

Well, the jig was up.  He sighs.  “Maybe a little, but it’s fine.”  The tone of his voice definitely implies that it was not, in fact, fine.

“So gross,” Eito whispers, slotting his knee between Takumi’s legs and pushing the other boy onto his back.  “You’re really no better than an animal.”

“H-hey!” Takumi protests weakly.  Eito’s frame boxes him in, his hands planted on either side of Takumi’s ears.  Eito’s face- empty eye sockets hidden behind the sunglasses he wore now- occupies almost his entire field of vision.

“Stop talking,” Eito says abruptly.  “Your voice is still… so grating.  Even if I can’t see your ugly face anymore.”

Takumi’s jaw snaps shut.  What is happening? Not that he was complaining, by any means.  Except…

None of the other SDU members knew he was trans.  And as much as he wanted it to stay that way, this might not be an opportunity he gets again.  Eito can keep a secret, right?  Surely?

Almost as if he could sense Takumi’s overthinking, Eito makes his next move, his gloved hand tracing along Takumi’s jawline, running a thumb over his lips, as if to get his bearings.  His cognitive distortion still affected what he felt, but it gives him a rough roadmap of Takumi’s face regardless.  He knows now that the things he feels- the boils filled with pus, the cratered, rotting flesh- weren’t actually there, as little comfort as that provided.

“You don’t have to do this, Eito,” Takumi says.

“I’m fully aware.  Call this the curiosity killing the cat, I suppose.  Besides, do you really think you could make me do anything I didn’t want to?” Eito replies, his hand coming to pause, flat against the center of Takumi’s chest.  His eyebrows once again crinkle in consideration.

“So, um, before anything else happens, you should know something,” Takumi squeaks out.  “You might have already figured it out by now but I wasn’t always a guy?  So I have-“

“Breasts!” Eito interrupts, as if everything made sense suddenly.  “You’re wearing a chest binder.  Okay.”

That was… surprisingly easy.  

“I don’t want anybody else to know,” Takumi says.  “I don’t like telling people I’m trans, so if this can stay between us…”

Eito nods thoughtfully.  “I’m very good at keeping secrets, Takumi.”

Don’t I know it, Takumi thinks bitterly, thinking of the Eito he’d known the first time around.

“I guess you would know that better than most,” Eito mutters, as if he’d heard the other boy’s thoughts.  His hand continues its path, down Takumi’s abdomen, down to his crotch.  He feels along the length of the dildo Takumi had so carefully tried to hide along the inside of his thigh.

“It’s a strap-on, it’s not a real dick,” Takumi says hurriedly, before Eito has a chance to ask.  Eito’s hand is dangerously close to his t-dick.

Screw it.  Takumi shifts his hips, forcing Eito’s hand to touch where he so desperately wanted it to.  It’s not enough, over the two layers of fabric, but it’s better than nothing.  He grunts.

Even with his apparent aloofness regarding human sexuality, Eito is a quick study.  He gauges Takumi’s reaction as a positive one, and applies pressure, rubbing in circles, coaxing a full moan out of Takumi.

The look on Eito’s face is too smug.  “Hah,” he breathes, looking triumphant.  “That’s a uniquely gross noise.”

Takumi scowls.  He says he wants to do this but he won’t stop talking about how gross and disgusting I am.  He takes another ragged breath, bucking his hips into the touch.

Eito moves his hand and once again with uncanny precision cups the side of Takumi’s face and leans down for a kiss.

It is extremely clear to Takumi that Eito doesn’t know what he’s doing.  He almost finds it endearing, in a way, that this strange man is so willing to try.  It makes confusing emotions swirl in his head.  But those were for later.  Takumi reciprocates, probably just as clumsy, gradually getting Eito to part his lips and kiss him deeper.

As Eito shifts his weight over his hips, Takumi realizes something.  Oh, he’s hard too.  Well now things are complicated.  Now this is really happening .

“You got hard from some shitty kissing,” Takumi whispers against Eito’s lips, and the shade of red Eito’s face turns is such a contrast to his pale skin it’s almost impressive.

“Starting to chafe a bit,” is all Eito says in response, but Takumi can tell he’s frustrated Takumi caught him.

“You can, um,” Takumi licks his lips, “we can take some clothes off.  I-if you want.”

Eito nods.  He stands back up, removing his coat.  And then he puts his thumbs under his waistband and shucks his briefs and pants off to the floor in one go.  Amusingly, he leaves his shoes on, pulling each leg out painstakingly slowly to avoid toppling over.  Takumi watches him intently, taking inventory.  Eito has, he notes, an average-sized cock sticking out from under a neatly trimmed bush.  Or at least Takumi assumes it’s average-sized.  He’s not exactly an expert.

Takumi finally uncovers his lower half again.  He’s fully soaked through his boxers at this point and it’s a relief to get those sticky things off.  He tosses the bundle of clothes to the floor, safely out of the way.

“I’m gonna keep my hoodie on,” he tells Eito, who probably couldn't care less.

Takumi takes the other things he made from the secret catalogue out of his pocket at this point- a few condoms and a bottle of water-based lube- and sets them on the nightstand next to the bed.  He’s not entirely sure what the plan is from here, but he still is wearing his strap-on.  Surely there’s no way he’ll let me fuck him.  The idea makes his dick twitch.

Leaving his gloves and his long-sleeve shirt on, Eito clambers back on top of him.  

“Do you… have anything in mind?” Takumi asks stupidly.  “Like.  Hand stuff, or you can fuck me if you want, I have condoms-“

Eito shakes his head.  “I find the idea of putting my dick inside you rather disgusting.  Nothing personal, of course.”

“How can I not take that personally?” Takumi asks, mostly rhetorically.  Now, Takumi!  Now’s your chance!  “That’s fine.  Would you, um, want me to fuck you ?  That might be less gross to you since it’s not actually, yknow, a part of me.”

The man on top of him tilts his head to the side (puppy-like, Takumi notes absently), clearly considering.

Takumi didn’t think he’d get this far and suddenly he feels way in over his head.

“If I can use your bathroom to clean myself up a bit, first, I think I would be amenable,” Eito says softly.

“Really?” Takumi asks before he can stop himself.  “You’re serious?”

Eito pauses.  “You made that strap-on with the Gift-o-Matic’s secret catalogue, right?”

Takumi fails to see why that’s relevant until he remembers Sirei’s comment in the Rec Room, that only one other person had discovered the secret catalogue.  He’d assumed it was Yugamu.

But no, it had to have been Eito fucking Aotsuki.

“I had gotten a book about human sexuality from it,” Eito continues, “mostly because I wanted to see the depths of depravity you humans would sink to.  But I would be lying if I said I didn’t learn a few things about myself and my own… interests in the process.  And at the end of the day, even my righteous self has base instincts and needs.”

That was, Takumi thought, the most ‘Eito’ possible answer he could’ve gotten.  

“Go right ahead,” Takumi responds instead.

Eito stands up again.  “And, of course, I will need to use it again afterwards, to get your foul stink off of me.”

Takumi sighs, unsure what else he should’ve expected.  “That’s fine too.”  He stands up, strap-on bouncing awkwardly as he moves, and guides Eito into the bathroom and turns on the shower for him.

While he waits he sits on his bed, alternating between touching himself idly and trying to silence his racing thoughts.  He really hadn’t expected anything to come of making the strap-on.  Maybe using it with Nozomi, not that he let himself get his hopes up about that.  But Eito?  Not in a million years, not in a million hundred-day loops would he have thought of this as a possibility.

Eito is taking his sweet time in the bathroom but Takumi doesn’t mind if it means that he gets to fuck him.

After a while, the water turns off and he hears Eito shuffle around with a towel briefly before the bathroom door opens.  Eito is as naked as he was the day he was born and the first thing Takumi notices is…

“You have muscles,” he comments.

“It seems one of us still has functioning eyes,” Eito snips.  “Aren’t you clever?”

Takumi is genuinely shocked, despite his blithe attitude.  This is what Eito looks like under that oversized jacket?  He had assumed he was sickly and scrawny.  “You’re ripped!”

“Yes, like you’ve already mentioned.”

Takumi shakes his head, refocusing himself.  He gets up and lets Eito sprawl out on his back on the bed.  

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Takumi asks, voice faltering.  He’s still sure that Eito is going to change his mind, and wants to give him every chance to duck out.

There’s a protracted period of silence.  Eito shivers a little.  “P-please, Takumi.”

“Good boy,” Takumi croons, and then immediately regrets it.  “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

Eito holds up a hand, cutting Takumi off.  

He’s blushing even more now, Takumi thinks as his apology is interrupted.  Did… did he like that?!

He slides his hand along the inside of Eito’s thigh.  That pale skin is so soft, so smooth, basically begging for…

He leans down and gives it a gentle bite.

Eito keens.  One of his hands, re-gloved after his time in the bathroom, grabs a fistful of bedsheet for dear life.

Now that was a sound Takumi liked.  He does it again, and again, and suddenly Eito is fully hard again, pre-cum beading at the tip.  That was all it took?  What a masochist.

Takumi takes the bottle of lube and opens it, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers.  At the sound Eito perks up, looking at him expectantly.

“I’m gonna go slow,” Takumi says, mostly to himself.  He rubs his thumb against Eito’s hole, feeling him tense against the touch initially.  “Try to relax.”

Eito does as he’s told.  He takes deep breaths as Takumi works diligently to open him.  His remaining senses are somewhat overwhelmed and he tries to focus on the pleasant burn and stretch he feels currently.

Takumi adds a second finger, coaxing another moan from Eito’s throat.  He doesn’t have the presence of mind to shush him.  Instead, he curls his fingers up towards Eito’s navel.

For a second it looks like Eito has forgotten how to breathe.  His mouth hangs open and he lets out a choked gasp, hand clutching at his chest.  That was a familiar pose, his original Eito had done it often under the guise of his alleged illness.  The way he was doing it now was identical in a way that almost made Takumi’s skin crawl.

“T-Takumi,” Eito stammers.  The look on his face is incredible.  His cheeks are bright red, sweat beading on his forehead, a small trickle of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth.  He looks pathetic and helpless.

At that realization, Takumi feels his cock throb.

So he repeats the motion, again, and again, feeling Eito clench down on the fingers inside him, pre-cum leaking and forming a puddle on his stomach.

“You look good like this, Eito,” Takumi says.

Eito whines, corners of his lips turning up.  “I think I’m ready.”

Takumi’s hand stills.  “Are you sure?”  It’s not a real complaint.  His hand is starting to cramp and his wrist aches, but if Eito is just saying it to hurry up the process, he doesn’t want to hurt him.  At least not right now, not in this way.

“I’m sure.  And I’m tired of having your ugly fingers in me.  The silicone is far preferable.”

Now Takumi wants to hurt him, in that way.  But he restrains himself for now.  He pulls his fingers out, watching the way Eito’s hole pulses around nothing.

“What position do you want to be in?” Takumi asks.  “It might be easier for you if you’re on top.”

It’s not an entirely selfless suggestion.  Takumi remembers his little fantasy earlier of Eito riding him, and with everything the way it was now, he was basically being offered his dream on a silver platter.

“I was going to object because it meant I would have to look at your revolting face, but, then I remembered!” Eito says cheerfully.  He pauses for a second.  “You just rolled your eyes, didn’t you?”

Urgh!  How did he know?

Takumi gets off the bed and trades places with Eito.  The taller man looks absolutely gleeful to be on top of him, and to have a total monopoly over his movement.  

He bends down and kisses Takumi again, not as bashful about it this time.  A little overeager, almost.  Takumi doesn’t really care.  He grabs Eito’s hips, and yelps in shock when his hands get slapped away.

“Don’t touch me more than you need to,” Eito says.  His tone is apologetic.  “I’m sorry, I suppose I’m still getting used to humans touching me.”

Eito sits back up.  Takumi finds it harder to read his eyeless expression but he thinks it might be some kind of remorse.  He bites back a remark about Eito kissing him so deeply, and instead takes a deep breath.  “That’s fine.  I can work with you on this.”

On top of him, Eito fumbles slightly, trying to guide the strap-on into him.  It takes a few tries but Takumi lets him do it independently, without his interference.

“There!” Eito gasps suddenly, mouth hanging open.  The hand he’d had behind him reaches out in front of him.  He grabs Takumi’s shoulder to steady himself.

The sight unfolding in front of- and on top of- him is incredible, but some part of Takumi’s brain isn’t satisfied.

I wish I could feel his insides, Takumi thinks sullenly.  I wish I could feel him squeezing my dick…

He takes one hand and rubs at his forehead, trying to exorcise the dysphoria from the moment.  Eito feels him move and stops lowering himself onto the strap-on.

“Is everything okay, Takumi?” he asks.  “Did I upset you…?” 

“No, Eito, no, it’s not you,” Takumi replies.  He’s not sure it sounds believable and he doesn’t want to explain gender dysphoria to Eito while trying to fuck him, so instead, he thrusts his hips upwards, impaling Eito on the strap-on just a few more inches.

That should shut him up, get his mind off things.

Eito cries out, his other hand planting itself next to Takumi’s head.  His face buries itself in the side of Takumi’s neck.  And without thinking, he licks a long stripe up Takumi’s neck.

Takumi groans, hips bucking involuntarily.  Eito makes another strangled noise and Takumi realizes what he’d just done.  He is fully seated inside Eito now.

“You’re taking me so well,” Takumi says into Eito’s ear.  Despite Eito’s earlier request, Takumi takes a fistful of hair and pulls.

It has an immediate effect.  Eito muffles a debauched noise into Takumi’s shoulder.  

Seems my earlier guess about him being a masochist was right on the money, Takumi thinks, self-satisfied.  He relaxes his grip on Eito’s hair and once again the taller boy straightens himself up.

“I’m ready now, Takumi,” Eito says breathlessly.

He clamps his hands on Takumi’s shoulders.  He raises and lowers himself slowly at first, feeling the dildo- Takumi’s cock , he corrects himself- drag against his insides.  The tip rubs against that spot inside him that sets his nerves on fire.

Little moans sneak past his lips, even as he tries to keep them in.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Takumi says.  “You probably won’t believe me when I say this, but you look… kind of beautiful.”

Eito stops moving.  “Shut up.”

“What, can't you take a compliment?”

“Your voice,” Eito says.  “Such nice things coming from that… horrible, distorted voice…”

Takumi decides he’s had enough.  Before Eito can react, and with an agility that surprises even himself, he works out from under Eito and gets behind him.  He shoves the taller boy down to his hands and knees and puts his dick back inside.

Eito makes a shocked noise, his elbows collapsing beneath him.  

Takumi pulls out again and drizzles more lube over Eito’s hole.  He flinches as the cold liquid makes contact with his skin but Eito offers no complaints.  He simply goes limp.  He doesn’t even react when Takumi once again grabs his hips to finally fuck him as hard as he’s been wanting to.

Or, more correctly, he does react, but the sound is absorbed by Takumi’s pillow.  

Takumi unceremoniously shoves back in, once again feeling Eito clench down, almost like he is daring him to pull out one more time.

“Greedy,” Takumi breathes.  He thrusts to a steady rhythm, watching Eito ball his fists into the sheets.

Eito says something but it’s muffled beyond recognition.

“Repeat that?” Takumi asks, slowing his pace.

“Feels so good!” Eito mewls.

Takumi grins, satisfied.  And he resumes his faster pace.  

Really, he was expecting this to be much more draining.  Maybe nearly 200 days of defensive battles and training had increased his stamina.  He feels his thighs and abdominal muscles burn slightly but it’s a pleasant burn, like when he and Takemaru work out.  

He wishes he could see Eito’s face better.  Instead, he once again takes a fist of soft, silver hair, and pulls Eito back to his hands and knees.

The sound that comes out of Eito at that tug defies categorization.  It’s not entirely a scream, but it’s not entirely a moan, either.

Takumi can’t help himself at that and lets out a pleasured sound of his own.  

Eito has the audacity to look smug again.  “You’re enjoying, ah , defiling me like this, aren’t you?”  He groans again.  “You, hngh , pervert.”

“I’m not the pervert here!” Takumi snaps defensively, his voice raising a few octaves.  

“Ooo, touched a nerve, Takumi?” Eito pants.  The half of his face Takumi can see is bearing a supremely shit-eating grin.

Is he trying to provoke me? Takumi wonders.  He doesn’t want to give Eito the satisfaction but his curiosity wins out, and he slaps Eito’s ass.

It’s exactly as expected.  He feels Eito clench down, hard, and give a little yelp of pleasure.  

“It pains me to admit,” Eito says suddenly, after a few minutes had passed without any further conversation, “but I’m getting rather close.”

Takumi’s heart skips a beat.  He pulls out again, and Eito whimpers at the emptiness.

“Flip over,” Takumi commands, and feels heat settle in his belly as Eito does so without question.  “I want to watch you cum.”

Takumi spread Eito’s legs, making a note of the scattered bruises on the insides of Eito’s thighs he’d left in his wake earlier.  He slides his cock in again and fucks Eito at a brutal pace.  He wishes he could kiss him, but with their height difference it was impossible.  So he does the next best thing: he grabs Eito’s cock and starts jerking him off in time with his thrusts.

Eito’s face contorts.  “Please!”

“Why should I let you cum?” Takumi finds himself asking.  “I’ve done all the work here, like usual.”  As if to emphasize his point, he loosens his grip on Eito’s dick, denying him friction.

“No, please!” Eito begs.  “I- I was-“

Takumi doesn’t take pity on him.  “You’re smart, Eito.  Too smart.  You know how to use your words.”  He keeps fucking him unrelentingly, a rough thrust punctuating each of his next words: “So.” plap! “Use.” plap! “Them.” plap!

Eito almost sounds like he’s in tears.  “Please, Takumi, p-please can I cum?” he sobs.

It’s so pitiful.  It’s so pathetic .

“Good boy,” Takumi says, and gives Eito what he wants.

Almost the instant Takumi touches him again, Eito cums.  Takumi works him through it, enjoying the feeble moans he wrings out of Eito.  He pulls out when he sees Eito start to wince from overstimulation.  As much as he wants to torture Eito, there will be other times to make it happen.

He gives Eito a moment to himself to recover, and in that time he doffs his strap-on and harness.  The exhaustion starts catching up with him.  

“Are… you doing okay?” Takumi asks as he sits back down on the bed.  He is disgustingly sweaty under his hoodie and considers taking it off.  It’s not like Eito could see anyways.

Eito takes a few deep breaths.  “I am, rather shockingly, just fine.  After ignoring my own needs for so long, this was… sorely needed.”

“Wow, an earnest answer?” Takumi says.  “Nothing snarky?”

“You’ve fucked the snark right out of me, for at least the next few hours.”

Hearing Eito say the word “fucked” makes him feel weird.  He doesn’t think he’s even heard Eito swear before this.

Eito clears his throat, finally sitting up to rest against the wall.  “Are you okay, Takumi?  Correct me if I’m wrong, but you didn’t finish.”

“Very… perceptive of you,” Takumi says.  “I’ll just get myself off after you leave, you don’t have to do anything.  I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”  He looks over at Eito, who if he didn’t know any better, seemed to be staring right at him.  Eito wets his lips, clearly thinking over something.

“No,” he says after a moment.  “No, I want to return the favor.”

Takumi isn’t sure he heard that right.  He’s silent for a minute.  “Sorry, what?”

“How vulgarly do I need to say it to get it through your ugly, thick skull?” Eito snaps, although it’s clear his frustration isn’t with Takumi and moreso with himself.  “I want to make you cum too, or at least try.”

Hearing Eito say it like that brings back the weird feeling he had earlier.  But it also brings more arousal than he would really care to admit.

“I am more than happy to let you try,” Takumi says.

Eito gives a firm nod.  “Tell me what to do, Team Leader.”

Takumi goes and sits with his back flush to Eito’s chest, nestled between the V shape of Eito’s sprawled legs.  He lets his knees fall apart after a moment’s hesitation.

“Do… do you want to keep your gloves on?” Takumi asks as he reaches for Eito’s hand.  “They’re going to get dirty.”

“Hmm.”  Eito seems to actually be putting thought into this decision.  “Better to take them off.  Who knows if the stink will come off in the wash? Worst case scenario, I can cut off my hands, die, and come back with a new pair.”

And with that pithy remark he removes his gloves.  Takumi grabs one of his wrists and guides it downwards, setting it where the tips of Eito’s fingers could touch his cock.

“You’re so… warm,” Eito mutters.  He feels around Takumi’s vulva as if he’s mapping it in his mind.  He traces along the shorter boy’s entrance.  “And so wet.”

Takumi is once again glad Eito can’t see him blush.  Eito’s hand drags back up to his dick and waits for further instructions.

“Um, usually I just, here, it’s easier if I show you,” Takumi says.  He had not realized how awkward teaching someone else to get him off would be.  He covers Eito’s hand with his own and mimics his usual movements, biting back a whimper as Eito touches him.

He guides Eito through the motions- rubbing circles on the shaft of his cock, dipping down to his entrance for more wetness periodically.  To his credit, Eito has yet to make any comments about how gross or ugly or repulsive he finds Takumi.  Maybe he understands how touchy of a subject this part of Takumi’s body can be.

“I think that’s the gist of it,” Takumi says after a while, when he feels Eito has the hang of things.  “I sometimes finger myself too, but that might be a little much for you right now, so let’s just do this.”

And Takumi withdraws his guiding hand, leaving Eito to work.

He’s a good student, and a fast learner.  Very quickly Takumi is writhing under him, unabashedly moaning.

It feels good- great, even- but Takumi knows it’s not enough.  He needs more.

“I’m going to finger myself,” Takumi announces.  It feels dumb to say it but he doesn’t want Eito to stop touching his dick when he feels Takumi’s hand join him.

Takumi reaches to make good on what he said when Eito grabs his wrist and moves it out of the way, plunging one long finger into Takumi.

“Mm, fuck , Eito,” Takumi groans.  “Are you sure?”

Eito doesn’t answer immediately, instead planting a kiss on Takumi’s neck.  “Of course I’m sure.  Need I remind you, you can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do .”

At that, a shiver runs down Takumi’s spine.

Eito adds a second finger, and Takumi practically howls.  His cock twitches under Eito’s hand and he knows at this rate he won’t last much longer.  The way Eito is fucking him with his hand is perfect, not too fast and not too slow, and with his fingers angled in such a way that his fingertips brush a very sensitive spot inside him with each move.

“Kiss me again, Takumi,” Eito says, weirdly breathless.  Takumi almost wonders if he’s getting off on having him so powerless under his ministrations.

Takumi tilts his head back, kissing Eito and moaning into his mouth.  He starts pressing his thighs together as he gets closer, but Eito isn’t having that.  The taller boy hooks his legs over Takumi’s ankles and wrenches his legs apart.  Takumi makes a desperate noise.

“You’re so tight,” Eito comments.  “I can feel you squeezing my fingers.”  He wonders briefly what this slick pressure would feel like around his dick, before dispelling the thought for now and kissing Takumi instead.

“I’m gonna- Eito, I’m so-“ Takumi cries, breaking apart from the kiss.  Eito’s teeth clamp down on his shoulder and that sends him over the edge.

Takumi contorts, the pressure of Eito’s hand on his dick suddenly painful.  His hole contracts rhythmically around the fingers inside him, which slow as they fuck him through it, before pulling out altogether with a wet shck!

He stares at the ceiling, head resting against Eito’s shoulder, while he catches his breath.

“That was deceptively enjoyable,” Eito says softly.  “You make some truly… unique noises, Takumi.”

Is that a compliment? He’s not sure.  He stands, stretching.  “You wanna shower here?”

Eito nods sheepishly.  “I’m quite filthy.”

“Help yourself,” Takumi says.  He wants to shower too, but considering Eito’s cognitive distortion and how he probably feels right now, he lets Eito have first dibs.  

While Eito showers, Takumi lays down on his cum and sweat-soaked bed, and despite every intention of seeing Eito off (and maybe stealing one more kiss), he falls very soundly asleep.  When he wakes up, Eito is long gone without a trace, and at that point Takumi realizes something.

He never cleared the Gift-o-Matic's catalogue.

Chapter Text

Eito steps out of the shower to the sound of gentle snoring.  He almost feels relieved he’s spared from further conversation and makes a break for his room, trying in vain to walk normally.  

When he gets to his own room he showers again.  This time he scrubs at his skin until it’s stinging and raw and the hot water threatens to scald him.

And after that, he sits naked on the floor of the shower for awhile and thinks.

There’s a lot to unpack about the last few hours.  

First, he lost his virginity.  This is something he assumed would never happen, which he’d made his peace with a long time ago.

Second, he’d lost his virginity to another man.  Given how repulsive he found humans, Eito had never really considered his sexuality in a meaningful way.  Masturbation was a chore performed to help him sleep or when he woke up with an erection.  There was never any direction or fantasy associated with it.

Third, the man he’d lost his virginity to was Takumi Sumino.   The time-traveling Team Leader who’d foiled his plans and put him in a cage, Ugly Takumi.  When he thinks about this he almost has to laugh.  He couldn’t deny he had a particular affection for Takumi, and had for awhile, but it was never sexual.  Or so he’d thought.  When he’d first kissed Takumi, the way his traitorous body reacted made him reevaluate.

What a horrible mess.

Once he starts getting cold he stands up and towels off.  There’s a dull ache in his ass that reminds him with every movement of what he’s done.  He puts on clean clothes and resolves himself to go about his remaining evening as normal.

 Whatever normal looks like for him now.

He bundles his dirty clothes and goes to find the laundry room, but doesn’t make it past the Roof when he runs headlong into someone and drops everything.  Probably the person he least wants to talk to right now.

“Oh, sorry Eito,” Takumi says, his voice hoarse.  “I wasn’t looking where I was going… let me help you pick this up.”

Eito brushes him away, fumbling to grab his clothes himself.  “I can do it myself.”

“Sorry,” Takumi says again.  He almost sounds pained.

“If you want to be helpful,” Eito responds, standing back up, “walk me to the laundry room.  These need to be washed very badly.”

He hopes the Because of you is implied with his tone.

Takumi sighs.  He grabs Eito’s hand and starts off towards the stairs.  

Eito feels his heart start racing again.  He had not intended for Takumi to literally lead him by the hand, but considering he’d already asked Takumi to hold hands to walk him to the Cafeteria, he supposed it’s a logical leap for the shorter boy to make.  He shuts his mouth and follows along without protest, pulse pounding in his ears.

They reach their destination without incident.  Takumi shuts the door behind them.

Eito knows what to do from here, muscle memory able to guide him through the process.  He did his laundry fairly often to rid it of the human stench while he still had his vision, and it comes in handy now.  Takumi is silent.  Eito can feel his eyes boring holes into his back.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” Takumi says suddenly, interrupting the quiet.

“You just need to be more mindful of where you’re going,” Eito replies.  He hums while he finishes loading the washing machine.

There’s a prolonged pause.  “That’s… not what I meant.”

Eito turns towards the sound of Takumi’s voice, furrowing his eyebrows.  “What else is there to be apologizing for?”

“I made you have sex with me?” Takumi says quietly, clearly afraid of others overhearing.  

“You’re as stupid as always,” Eito scoffs.  He clicks his tongue and turns back to the washing machine, feeling for the start buttons.  “I don’t know how many times I’ll have to tell you for you to believe me, but the odds of you making me do anything are extremely low.  You of all people should know this by now.”

That seems to shut Takumi up.  Eito finds the button he’s looking for and the washing machine rumbles to life.

“I just… I feel like it should’ve been more of a conversation than you coming over to talk and then… everything else happening.”

Eito wishes he could roll his eyes.  “You’re forgetting something, Takumi.  I started it.”

“But I pushed you to-“

“I’m so sick of your voice,” Eito mutters and quickly closes the distance between them.  Takumi doesn’t even have time to be impressed by Eito’s ability to locate him by sound before he’s being shoved against the wall of the laundry room and kissed.

Takumi makes a noise of surprise and tenses for a moment.  His lips part on instinct and Eito deepens the kiss, his tongue gently poking into Takumi’s mouth.  Eito has a hand grabbing the hair on the side of Takumi’s head and the other one is holding tightly onto Takumi’s hip, while his thigh slides comfortably between Takumi’s legs.  It’s an awkward configuration of limbs and Eito has to stoop down to make it work.  But it does work, and Takumi is pinned helplessly against the wall with no escape.

Eito’s thoughts are going a million miles a minute.  Had he spent a few hours dissociating in the shower over this?  Yes.  Did he have any regrets?  Absolutely not.  He’d initiated the whole thing because he wanted to.  He knows that telling Takumi that won’t change his mind, so he resolves to show him.

Takumi ruts against Eito’s leg, moaning into his mouth happily.

Eito pulls back at that a bit so he can talk.  “Humping me like a dog… tsk tsk.”

“You’re the one who put your leg there!” Takumi protests weakly.  “What else did you expect me to do?”

“Oh, exactly that,” Eito says, unable to hide how pleased he is with himself.  “It’s just not as enjoyable for me if I can’t make fun of you for it.”  He slides one hand underneath Takumi’s hoodie from where it had been on his hip, trailing along his side.  Through his glove he feels an additional layer of fabric that ends a bit too short of being an undershirt.  That must be the chest binder he wears , Eito realizes, and with that discovery he leaves it alone, giving it a wide berth to hopefully assure Takumi he has no interest in taking it off.

Takumi seems to relax with that out of the way.  He rocks his hips again, and Eito presses his lips to his forehead while Takumi uses his leg.

“Does that feel good?” Eito asks.  He says it hesitantly, because he genuinely doesn’t understand how what Takumi is doing can feel pleasurable at all.

As if in response, Takumi’s breath hitches.  “Y-yeah, so good.”

Eito beams, and tries to ignore the way his cock twitches from the lukewarm praise.  This isn’t about me.  He lets go of Takumi’s hair and instead tilts up his chin to kiss him.  He idly notes that his glove is wet, and he can only assume it’s saliva that’s managed to coat Takumi’s chin.  To his own surprise, he doesn’t feel as disgusted by that as he expects to.

He loses track of time spent like this.  Takumi seems content to grind away, occasionally making little noises against Eito’s mouth.  Sometimes Takumi brushes against Eito’s erection and the jolt of friction makes Eito shudder and groan.  If Takumi notices, he’s kind enough to not say anything and spare Eito his dignity.  Or what little dignity he has remaining at this point.

“Are you…” Eito starts.

Takumi snorts before he can finish his question.  “No.  Not at all.  Are you trying to make me cum in my pants, Eito?”  

Eito feels his face turn red, and he’s forced to confront that, yes, that had been at least subconsciously his goal.  Maybe it was to humiliate Takumi, or to see him as vulnerable as Takumi had made him earlier today.  Some kind of retribution.

“Holy shit, you were ,” Takumi says.  “Well, this does feel good but… probably won’t achieve that goal with this.”

And as always, Eito ends up on the back foot when it comes to Takumi.  How has this backfired so quickly?

Takumi gives him a peck on the cheek.  “Besides, we’re kinda in public here.”

“Astute observation,” Eito says, clearing his throat.  He wipes his face with the back of his hand.  “I bet you were just hoping someone would walk in on this, you deviant.”  He says it mostly as a desperate bid to regain control of the situation.

It seems to work.  “W-what?  Why would you even think that?” Takumi sputters indignantly.  He tries breaking away but Eito is still much larger and has the advantage of holding him against the wall.  Eito grabs his shoulders and Takumi once again finds himself immobilized.

“Why would I think that?” Eito repeats.  “I know how your horrid little human minds work.  You’d enjoy someone watching.  You in particular, you’re so desperate for attention and approval, I’m sure that extends to your sexual habits as well.”

Takumi struggles again.  “No!  You’re the one who came when I called you a good boy, so I don’t really want to hear it from you .”

A pained expression flashes across Eito’s face involuntarily.  “I suppose you’ve got me there, Takumi.”  He sighs, and stops Takumi’s wriggling by gently wrapping his hand around his throat. He applies no pressure but Takumi instantly goes limp, and now he has an entirely captive audience.  “How do I prove to you that I wanted what happened earlier today as much as you did?  Because I think if I have to hear you apologize about it constantly I’m going to lose my mind even more.”

He can feel Takumi swallow thickly.

“...prove to me?” Takumi whispers after another moment.

Eito nods.  “It’s rather self-aggrandizing of you to think it was entirely your decision.”  He tightens his grip around Takumi’s neck for a second before relaxing it again.  “And clearly I could overpower you easily if I wanted to.”

Even through his gloves, Eito feels the shorter boy’s heart rate spike in panic.  He tries to pretend it doesn’t make him harder.  He takes a shaky breath in, and then out, and then repeats the question.  “How do I show you?”

Takumi fidgets.  He’s not seriously trying to escape anymore, but Eito can practically hear the gears turning in his brain as seconds tick by with the washing machine as the only sound other than their breathing.

“You’re trying to think of the most vile, debasing thing you can make me do, aren’t you?” Eito says quietly.  

“Oh my god,” Takumi snaps, raising his voice.  “Can you stop talking?  Do you love the sound of your own voice that fucking much?  You keep making th- these ridiculous statements about what I’m thinking and it’s making me want to strangle you .”  To Eito’s shock, he’s able to free himself from the chokehold rather quickly.  Eito supposes if he really wanted to keep Takumi there he needed to try a little harder.  “Here’s an idea.  Why don’t I put that mouth of yours to good use?”

Eito’s stomach churns.  He’s sure he knows what Takumi is hinting at but some part of him he didn’t like to acknowledge wanted to hear Takumi say it.  He tilts his head, encouraging Takumi to continue.

But Takumi doesn’t.  He walks away, back towards the laundry room door, as far as Eito can tell.  He hears furniture scraping and he realizes very quickly what’s going on.  He’s blocking the door off.  He patiently waits for Takumi to return.

“As much as you like calling me a dog,” Takumi says as he walks slowly back to where Eito is standing, “you fit that criteria too.  I tell you to stay, and you stay.  You like being called a good boy.  And I offer you a treat and you’re instantly on your best behavior.”

Treat…?

A hand on his shoulder gently pushes him to his knees.  He hears fabric rustling, and a distinct, familiar smell hits his nostrils.  It’s all but enough to confirm his suspicions about what Takumi was going to have him do.  He fights a brief wave of nausea.  No.  We’re getting over this, one way or another .

Takumi stands over him.  Eito can feel the heat radiating from his body extremely close to his face.  And then Takumi fists a hand in his hair, guiding him forward.

“Open your mouth, Eito,” Takumi says.  His voice is weirdly firm- he’s not giving Eito an option, he’s telling him what to do next.

Eito does, sticking out his tongue slightly.  Something hot and wet rests against his tongue, and the taste is instantly overwhelming.  It’s not… entirely unpleasant, but it floods his senses and his face screws up slightly while he processes it.  Eito isn’t sure how to describe it; it’s salty and bitter with a hint of a copper taste.  He traces his tongue around the intrusion, quickly realizing what’s in his mouth.  It’s the same thing he was touching earlier.  Takumi’s dick.

Takumi lets out a shuddering moan.  “There you go.”  His tone is cloying and it makes the tips of Eito’s ears burn.  He rubs against Eito’s tongue, holding the taller man’s head still while he fucks his mouth.  Eito notices the scent intensifying, and feels something wet on his chin as Takumi continues.

His pants are suddenly too tight and he feels incredibly trapped in them.  He wishes so badly he could take them off.  It’s a secondary wish to being able to see the look on Takumi’s face right now.  However distorted Takumi looked to him, he’d gotten good at reading his expressions over time, and if the boy’s heaving breathing was any indicator, he must look incredibly debauched .

What is wrong with me? Eito finds himself thinking.  Since when does he want to see a human?  Isn’t that the whole reason he took such an extreme action- to not have to see them anymore?

Drool drips off of Eito’s tongue.  It joins the wetness from Takumi that’s covering his chin.  He feels slimy and knows he is going to be doing a second load of laundry and a third, very long shower once he’s done here.

“See, isn’t it nice to not talk for once?” Takumi says.  He pulls Eito forward by the hair again, giving Eito the distinct impression he’s trying to smother him.

Eito, of course, can’t make any words, with his mouth so thoroughly occupied.  “Hahhh.”  It’s a waste of his precious oxygen, he knows.  His feet are falling asleep and his knees hurt but he’s not about to complain.  Mostly because he physically can’t.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your treat,” Takumi replies with a little, shaky laugh.  “You’re being so good, I think you deserve a reward.”

Reward?  Since when did Takumi get so confident?  It’s almost unsettling.

Takumi moves one foot forward, pressing the sole of his sneaker against Eito’s cock.

Eito moans, loud, instinctively pushing up against it.  Takumi immediately pulls away, and Eito whines pitifully at the loss.

“You need to be quiet,” Takumi scolds.  “Yeah, I blocked the door, but this is still the laundry room, in case you forgot.”

In the haze of arousal, that might’ve slipped Eito’s mind.  His mind is racing with a thousand other things and trying to contain himself is not one of them.  He feels fuzzy when he tries to think, the dick in his mouth and the firm tug on his hair the only things keeping him grounded.  Eito nods as best as he can.

Takumi puts his foot back, and Eito immediately starts rutting against it again.  “Good boy.”

Eito makes a strangled noise, trying so hard to be quiet.  He doesn’t want to get punished, he doesn’t want to lose the friction again, he wants to be good .  He thinks about the book on human sexuality, and tries to conjure up some of the diagrams and illustrations in his mind.  It’s not an anatomical one-to-one with what’s in his mouth but he thinks he can feel the similarities and knows what to do.  It’s worth a try, anyways.

He closes his lips around Takumi’s cock and sucks gently.  He can feel Takumi double over, moaning loudly, and then he hears Takumi clap his hand over his mouth to quiet himself.

“F-fuck, Eito, keep going, that feels incredible,” he says, muffled behind his hand.

Eito presses his hips upwards.  At this rate he’s not sure how much longer he can last.  He caresses the tip of Takumi’s dick with his tongue, focusing on the underside, still sucking.  Takumi grabs either side of Eito’s head, just above the ears, and uses his mouth.

It’s not a reliable indicator, but based on the increasing pitch of Takumi’s sounds and how tightly he’s being held, he thinks Takumi might be getting close.  He takes that as a sign to redouble his efforts.

And it pays dividends.  “ Eito ,” Takumi groans, his thrusts getting erratic.  “I–!”

He doesn’t get to finish his warning.  Takumi shakes violently, his cock pulsing against Eito’s tongue, and Eito feels more warm liquid drip onto his chin.  Eito dutifully works him through it, for the second time today.

Eventually Takumi pushes him off.  His breathing comes in ragged gasps as he tries and fails to catch his breath.

Eito stays still as Takumi recovers, afraid any upwards pressure on his foot will topple him over.  He waits patiently, and Takumi’s earlier words about him being a dog, too, come rushing back.

I tell you to stay, and you stay.  And I offer you a treat, and you’re instantly on your best behavior.

He frowns.  He hates, more than anything, that Takumi is right.

After a minute, hearing Takumi’s breathing level out, Eito coughs.

“I didn’t forget about you, don’t worry,” Takumi says.  “I just, holy shit.  How did you know how to do all that?”

Eito shrugs.  “It’s between a lucky guess and that horrific human sexuality book.  Maybe looking at it was more useful than just as self-harm.”  He reflects on what he just said for a moment.  “Sorry, that’s probably one of those things you’re not supposed to say, right?”

“Uh,” is all Takumi manages.

Ah.  Might’ve just ruined it.   Eito turns his face towards the floor.

Interrupting his sulking, he feels Takumi nudge at his erect cock.  He yelps, not because it hurts (it does, a little, not that he’s complaining) but just because it was unexpected.

“Do you wanna cum or not?”

Eito nods furiously.  “Please, please, I need-”  He hates that he’s begging Takumi for this.  That sadistic degenerate probably liked putting me in the cage… he fumes, before another, harder tap to his genitals gets his attention again and he whimpers in pain.

Takumi’s voice is cold when he speaks next.  “Then work for it.”

Eito swallows his pride, planting one hand on the floor to steady himself.  He fucks upward, the harsh rub of his clothing on the hard sole of Takumi’s sneaker providing unpleasant stimulation.  But it’s still stimulation and he feels his cock leaking into his boxers.  As the fabric dampens, the slide becomes less painful and he goes faster, chasing his orgasm.  He can feel it, his core tightening.

“Takumi, please!” Eito pleads.  There’s no verbal response, but Takumi steps on him just a little harder.

“Go on,” Takumi says quietly.  It’s all the permission Eito needs, and he finally cums, spilling into his pants.

Eito stills when it’s too much and Takumi lifts his foot off of him.  He grabs the front of Eito’s jacket and pulls him to his feet.

To Eito’s absolute disgust , Takumi kisses him again.  He almost retches into Takumi’s mouth but settles for weakly pushing him away.

“That is vile,” Eito hisses.

“No,” Takumi says.  “It’s payback for almost making me cum in my pants earlier.”

Eito reels back further.  “Y-you reprobate!  You lied?  You said you wouldn’t-”

“Do you think I really wanted to give you that satisfaction?  For someone who acts so smart…” Takumi replies.

The washer’s timer goes off and they both jump, fearing someone’s walked in on this.  It kills the argument immediately.

Eito goes to fuss over his clothes while Takumi gets dressed again and moves his makeshift barricade.

“You want any help?” Takumi asks.  He almost sounds embarrassed.  “I know you like hanging your clothes outside to dry… and if you need to do an extra load I can do it.”  He sniffs.  “Since I kinda caused the mess.”

Swallowing his pride, Eito nods.  “I think I would appreciate that.  Thank you, Takumi.”  He says it genuinely.  He’s still learning that humans can be thoughtful, on occasion.

“...one last thing,” Takumi says.  Eito feels hands pulling at his jacket, making sure it covers the presumably-obvious wet spot on the front of his pants.

Eito feels his blush return with a vigor.  Takumi takes his hand again, softly in stark contrast to everything else that’s happened here, while Eito holds onto his wet clothes, and together they walk back up to the Roof.

Chapter Text

For the better part of a week, there’s an unspoken truce.  They go back to a normal (whatever normal looks like during the war, at least), entirely cordial and platonic interactions in front of the others.  It’s a fun little act to maintain.  It’s fun to pretend there isn't an incredible amount of tension roiling under the surface.

It can’t last.

Eito feels like he’s going insane.  More insane than everyone else already thought he was.  There’s a complicated mix of emotions associated with everything that’s happened, and he struggles to name all of them, fit them in neat little categories like he does everything else in his life.

He’s disgusted.  That one is easiest to define.  Disgust with himself, for everything that’s happened.  Disgust with Takumi, for obvious reasons.  It’s Takumi, after all.

He’s angry.  Mostly with himself, for giving into these base, human temptations, and allowing himself to be distracted when they’re so close to the finish line.  He would be lying if he said he wasn’t angry with Takumi to some extent, too.  It pains him to admit that it’s less justified- everything that’s happened has been with Eito’s full consent.  The anger is more about how easily Takumi is able to push his buttons and have him wrapped so thoroughly around his little finger.  Maybe he could write it off as knowledge Takumi had gained during his first hundred days, somehow.  He refuses to believe he’s that obvious to someone as stupid as Takumi Sumino.

Eito pinches the bridge of his nose.  He’s saved the worst emotion for last.

He’s happy.  

Acknowledging it makes his stomach churn.  It means admitting that Takumi makes him happy.  That, try as his cognitive defect might, he’s managed to develop feelings for something as wretched as a human.  It might be Takumi’s willingness to work around the cognitive defect that really did him in, he thinks.  No one else in his life had been so accommodating.  But even if everything he’s already listed makes him beyond nauseous, he’s annoyed he manages to take comfort in thinking about Takumi’s hand in his, Takumi’s genuine concern that manages to seep through the distortion of his voice.  

As they near the end of the hundred days, Eito has noticed the concern creep into Takumi’s voice more often, bordering on desperation.  Every interaction they have, Takumi seems frazzled.  One fray away from the rope snapping.

Maybe that’s why he’s avoiding me , Eito thinks, and immediately catches himself.  No , I can’t be clingy.  He’s busy, he has responsibilities as Team Leader to deal with to keep everyone safe.  He doesn’t have time for… defective distractions like me.  Eito feels a pang in his chest at the thought, but he knows it’s for the best.  Better to keep Takumi at arm’s length, emotionally speaking.  It would spare him in the long run.

Physically speaking is a different matter.  He needs to see Takumi again soon or he feels like he’s going to explode.  Almost every night since they first had sex, Eito’s woken up with an erection.  He never remembers his dreams but he almost doesn’t need to remember to know, instinctively, what they were about.  And so, almost every night, Eito has ended up furiously fucking his hand.  He usually jerks himself off in a detached, clinical way, not thinking about anything in particular, just trying to get the heinous task over as quickly as possible.  That has since changed.  Now he has memories to think about, and more than once he’s caught himself mewling out Takumi’s name as he finishes into his hand.

It makes him hate himself a little bit more every time it happens.

This time, as he wakes up painfully hard and covered in sweat, he has a particular memory in mind.  Takumi standing over him, foot still on his cock, trapping him where he kneels on the floor.  Takumi grabbing him and kissing him, and then saying the words that’ve been haunting Eito.

It’s payback for almost making me cum in my pants earlier , Takumi had said.  Every time Eito remembers it he gets a headrush, thinking that his inexperienced self is capable of such a thing.  He is still annoyed Takumi denied him that privilege.

The other thing Eito thinks about this time is something Takumi had probably said in passing, without giving it a second thought.  

You can fuck me if you want .

Eito had immediately dismissed the idea.  Putting his dick inside a foul beast like Takumi was out of the question, even with the protective layer of a condom.  But at this point, sullied as he already is, his curiosity is starting to overpower any disgust.  He remembers the way Takumi’s insides had squeezed his fingers, tight and wet and almost scalding hot, although he’s sure that last part is more the fault of his glitchy brain.  It felt… weirdly good.  He wants to know what it feels like around his cock, instead.

He immediately cums to the idea and spends the next three minutes washing his hands.

And then, Eito devises a plan.

-

After nearly one hundred days of this shit, Takumi still jumps every time Sirei shows up unannounced.  This time it happens while he’s getting himself a bowl of cereal for lunch, and he instinctively swings the gallon of milk at the robot.

“Sumino, that’s a one-way ticket to getting your bomb detonated!” Sirei says incredulously as he dodges out of the way, impossibly fast.  “What’s gotten into you?”

Takumi sets the milk jug down.  “Gee, I wonder.”

“Anyways!  I have a message for you from Aotsuki,” Sirei interrupts.  He holds out an envelope.  “Says he would’ve delivered it himself but it would’ve taken too long to search the school for you, and also if he handwrote it probably wouldn’t have been legible.  Honestly, I’m not sure what he’s up to, but keep your guard up.  Seems fishy to me.”

Takumi takes the envelope, narrowing his eyes.  His name is printed neatly across the front, clearly handwritten.  Not legible, huh?  He opens it carefully.  The letter inside, however, is typed.

Hello, Takumi!  

Would you mind swinging by my room after the evening announcement?  There’s something I need to discuss with you.  Obviously, come alone.

Yours,

Eito Aotsuki

The signature is also handwritten impeccably.  Takumi frowns.  Why couldn’t he just tell me this himself?  Why go to all this trouble just to invite me over?  He’s gotta be plotting something.

He looks up from the letter to tell Sirei he agrees something weird is going on, but of course, Sirei is long gone.  

Takumi reads it again, feeling a pit settle in his stomach.  Eito signing it as “yours” also makes him feel… strange, in a way he can’t explain and doesn’t necessarily like.  Butterflies in his chest and the tips of his ears burning.  He tries not to think about it and returns the letter to the envelope.  He eats his lunch in silence, grateful nobody else comes to the Cafeteria while he’s there, and figures out what he’s going to do.

-

He ends up skipping dinner that night.  He’s pretty sure anything he tried to eat would’ve come back up from sheer anxiety.  Shortly before the evening announcement, Takumi jumps in the shower.  He keeps the water cold in a bid to distract him from his growing uneasiness.  He puts on clean clothes and stares at himself in the mirror while he brushes his teeth.

“I could just not go,” Takumi tells himself.  “Or I can go, but bring my Infuser.  Eito’s stronger than me physically, but if my hemoanima is active, I could wipe the floor with him if I need to.”  After a moment of consideration he scraps that idea.  He’s so eager to jump to hostile explanations for Eito’s behavior, when it could be as simple as Eito’s social awkwardness rearing its head.  Not everything Eito did was malicious.  At least, not anymore.

The nighttime announcement begins with the familiar chime, and Takumi once again fights a sense of impending doom.  He lets it play all the way through before leaving his room and making his way to Eito’s, as promised.

He rings the doorbell and waits.  Eito takes his sweet time answering, and Takumi has his hand raised to ring it again when the door opens a crack.

“Takumi!  Looks like Sirei gave you my letter.  C’mon in!” he hears Eito say cheerfully from inside.  The door doesn’t open any further and Takumi can’t see Eito through the crack.

Takumi regrets not grabbing his Infuser.  He takes a deep breath and steps inside.

The door slams shut instantly.  Eito had been waiting behind the door.

Takumi’s heart rate spikes and he goes towards the center of the room so he’s less trapped.  As he moves, he slips on something on the floor and falls ass-backwards.

Why is there blood on the floor? he thinks, fighting the bile rising in his throat.  He looks up at Eito, who is standing between him and the door to the room, grinning ear to ear.

Eito is in his Class Armor.  Why is Eito in his Class Armor?  His Class Weapon, however, is nowhere to be seen.

Takumi scrambles to his feet, trying to figure out his next move.

“Oh, relax,” Eito says.  His simpering tone reminds Takumi too much of the Eito from his first hundred days.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  I just wanted to get a leg up on you this time.”

That does little to reassure Takumi.  He raises his fists in a defensive position.  But he knows Eito’s right- with the assistance of his hemoanima and Class Armor, Takumi barely stands a chance.  Especially if Eito summons his Class Weapon.  It’ll be over before it even starts.

“W- what’s going on? What are you doing, Eito?” Takumi asks, trying and failing to keep the panic out of his voice.

Eito takes a step towards him, and Takumi takes a step back without thinking.  “You humiliated me the other day, y’know that?”  

Takumi scoffs and lowers his hands.  “Are you serious?  That’s what this is about?”  He knew Eito was petty but this was a new low.  “You’re going to, what, beat me up because you got off from humping my shoe?  I don’t really see how that’s my problem.”

“Who said anything about beating you up?  Honestly, Takumi, you’re delusional,” Eito says, way too calmly.  He takes another step forward.

That does very little to dispel Takumi’s discomfort and he freezes, rooted to the spot.  Eito continues his slow walk towards him until they’re inches apart.

Takumi’s sure Eito can hear his heart pounding in his chest.  Eito runs the fingers of one hand- gloved in white, courtesy of the Class Armor- along the side of Takumi’s neck, resting on the shorter boy’s carotid artery.  He presses slightly to feel it better, and is rewarded with the additional sensation of Takumi’s throat working as he swallows dryly.

“It’s going so fast!” Eito notes.  “Are you scared?”

Takumi doesn’t answer.  Eito’s other hand comes up and traces his cheekbone, and Takumi takes a faltering breath in.

“...or aroused, maybe?” Eito says, and there’s no mistaking the cocky, triumphant tone of his voice.  Takumi’s blood runs cold and he stays quiet.

“Based on your silence, I’m guessing I’m right,” Eito says with glee.  His thumb runs over Takumi’s lips and parts them slightly.  “Poor Ugly Takumi.  How do you feel, now that the tables are turned?”

He feels… defeated.  But he’s not about to give Eito that satisfaction.  So he smiles, the finger on his mouth pulling away at the movement.

Then before he realizes what’s happening, Takumi is being tossed onto Eito’s bed like a particularly light sack of potatoes.  Eito crawls on top of him, bracketing his body in place.

“You can try to play it off with a smile,” Eito whispers, “but this -” he grabs at Takumi’s crotch without ceremony, “gives you away.  I know that smell, now.”

Takumi wriggles, a futile attempt at escape.  “You’re insane.”

“Maybe I am,” Eito concedes.  He sits back on Takumi’s hips, resting his hands on Takumi’s shoulders.  He’s deceptively heavy with all that lean muscle mass.  It makes for an effective restraint.  “But if you’re willingly having sex with me, what does that make you?”

“Probably crazier than you,” Takumi says.  He is turned on, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.  Stupid, traitorous body, in more ways than just one.  “Alright.  Are you done now?  Did you get your power trip out of the way?”

Eito shakes his head.  “That first time, in your room, you offered me something.  I said no then, but I want it now.”

“If you’re less vague, maybe I can actually help you.  We’ve talked about using your words like a good boy already,” Takumi snaps.  He genuinely isn’t sure what Eito is getting at, but it leaves a bad taste in his mouth nonetheless.  Predictably, Eito makes a face when Takumi says the words ‘good boy’, but it isn’t the trump card he’d wanted.

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?  Maybe you get off to my voice saying such vile things,” Eito muses.  He lets out a dramatic sigh.  “Fine, fine, if you insist.”

Takumi struggles again, getting impatient.  “Just spit it out already, Eito.”

“You said I could fuck you,” Eito says.

It feels like all the air has been punched out of him within a second.  “I guess I did say that, didn’t I?” he mutters.  “But you said that was too gross for you!  What changed?”

“Enough of me has already been… tainted by you, that it really doesn’t matter,” Eito answers immediately.  He shifts his weight and looks away from Takumi.  “And I can’t stop thinking about how it felt around my fingers…”  There it is, the bright red blush that’s such a stark contrast to Eito’s pale skin and black Class Armor.

“It?” Takumi asks.  He already knows the answer, of course, but he does want to hear Eito explain himself.

Eito still is looking at the wall instead of down at Takumi.  It’s cute that he still does that even though he can’t see me.  His fingers play idly with one of Takumi’s hoodie strings.  Eito responds so quietly Takumi can’t hear him.

Takumi grabs Eito’s wrist, tight enough the boy on top of him yelps in pain.  “One more time?”

“Y- your hole,” Eito chokes out.  Takumi lets go of his wrist and Eito pulls it away and holds it to his chest.

Takumi grins.  Maybe he was enjoying himself a little too much.  And he did enjoy the uptight Eito Aotsuki saying vulgarities to appease him, that he couldn’t deny.  “Well, that can be arranged.”

Eito leans down and kisses him.  This time it’s hungry , Takumi notes, and there’s a desperation to it that Takumi finds incredibly gratifying.

Takumi tugs on Eito’s bottom lip with his teeth, pulling a pleased noise from deep in his throat.  He doesn’t bite hard enough to draw blood this time, but there almost certainly will be a mark.

“Eito,” Takumi pants.  “Lemme move?”

Eito lifts himself up again.  “You’re not going to try running away from me, are you?”

“No, I promise, I just need to reposition a bit,” Takumi says, and he means it.  Some part of him does enjoy the pressure of Eito’s body on his.  Kind of like a weighted blanket.

Ever kind, Eito allows him to move, rolling over to the side.  Takumi quickly removes his clothes- shoes, pants, hoodie, and jacket all hit the floor with gentle thuds.  He leaves only his boxer-briefs and binder on.  He settles back down on the bed, and Eito resumes his spot on top of him, kneeling between Takumi’s legs.

Eito takes tactile stock of Takumi’s newfound nudity.  He runs his hands along Takumi’s bare sides, and moves downwards to his thighs.  Through his gloves he can feel coarse hair, although he’s not sure how much of it is his cognitive defect and how much is Takumi’s actual body hair.  Human body hair probably isn’t as… needle-like as what he feels is.  His hands go back up and slide carefully over the chest binder.  Takumi takes a sharp inhale at the touch.

“Sorry,” Eito says, yanking his hands away like he’s been burned.  “Sorry, I didn’t realize that’s where I was touching-”

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Takumi interrupts.  His dysphoria is quickly taking a backseat to how horny he is and he needs Eito to touch him.  “I’ll tell you if it’s too much, just, please keep touching me.”

Eito’s mouth hangs open, looking far too satisfied after hearing Takumi beg.  He puts his hands back, rubbing his hands over Takumi’s chest and bringing them up to cup his face.  He’s positioned perfectly now to rub their clothed crotches together while they kiss.  

At the first little thrust of his hips Takumi moans loudly.  The motion sends jolts of electricity up his back, his neglected cock finally getting some attention.  They move together, Eito burying his face in the crook of Takumi’s neck.  He worries the skin there with his teeth, presumably leaving red marks in his wake.  It doesn’t escape his notice that Takumi thrusts his hips up particularly hard when Eito bites him.  Then he presses gentle kisses where he can feel the bites, almost as if he’s apologizing.

Takumi opens his eyes and realizes Eito is still in his Class Armor.  The movement of the white smoke in his chest is almost hypnotic, and he watches it for awhile before speaking.

“Why do you still have your Class Armor on?” Takumi asks.  “I mean, your display of force is over, you’re getting what you wanted, and it’s not fair I’m the only one naked.”  When Eito doesn’t respond immediately and keeps rutting away, Takumi sighs.  “If you don’t answer me I’m gonna put my fingers in that hole in your chest.”

That gets Eito’s attention.  He stops, facing Takumi.  “I’d really prefer if you didn’t do that.”

“Then dispel your Class Armor and get naked,” Takumi responds.

Eito gets up, and Takumi watches as his Armor disappears in a puff of red mist, revealing his regular clothes.  He strips methodically, folding everything neatly as he goes, until he’s standing there in just his briefs and socks.  He once again kneels between Takumi’s legs.  “Happy now?”

“Best seat in the house,” Takumi says with a lazy smile.  He can see the outline of Eito’s cock straining against the fabric, which gives him an idea.  He sits up and shoves Eito over, the taller boy’s head just barely avoiding slamming into the bedframe.

“Hey!” Eito protests.

“Shush, you’re fine,” Takumi says.  He hooks his fingers under the waistband of Eito’s underwear and tugs slightly.  “Can I?”

Eito laughs, but it sounds strained.  “I think I’m going to die if you don’t, soon.”

Takumi makes short work of it, freeing Eito’s cock.  He wraps his hand around it, giving it a few experimental strokes.  He can see Eito’s just upsettingly rock-solid abs clench with the movement.  “I really want to suck your dick, Eito.  I mean, it’s only fair, you sucked mine.”

Eito bites down on his knuckles.  He nods his head, and before Takumi has a chance to scold him he gives a verbal answer.  “You have my consent.”

He could’ve said that in a sexier way , Takumi thinks to himself as he lowers his head.  He licks a long stripe up the shaft of Eito’s cock, giving little kitten licks to the tip.

Fingers scrabbling at Takumi’s hair frantically, Eito wails.  He bucks his hips up, forcing his length down Takumi’s throat unintentionally.  Takumi gags and Eito feels his throat tighten around his cock.  It feels way better than it has any right to, and Eito does it again, this time on purpose.  

Takumi makes a frustrated noise and pulls off.  “Stop that.”  He rubs his thumb at the base of the head.  “If you do that, you’ll cum before you can fuck me like you wanted.”

Right.  Right.  That was the whole goal here , Eito reminds himself.  He does enjoy how ruined Takumi’s voice sounds.  Maybe this would merit further investigation later.  For now, he rests his hands by his side.

The warmth of Takumi’s mouth envelops the tip of his cock again, this time sucking softly and swirling his tongue around the head.  Eito clenches his fist, digging his nails into his palm.  He stays still, because he wants to be good.

Takumi hums his approval, and the vibrations thrum down Eito’s cock enjoyably.  Once again Eito grabs Takumi’s hair and forces him away, panting.

Takumi laughs, realizing what’s happening.  He helps Eito to a sitting position.  Eito looks so embarrassed Takumi almost feels bad for him.  But not bad enough that he doesn’t say what he’s thinking.  “You’re seriously about to cum from the first blowjob I’ve ever given?  It can’t be that good.”

Eito looks away, cheeks red.  “I’ve been hard for so long at this point, a stiff breeze could send me over the edge.”

Hard for so long?  Takumi idly wonders when the problem started.  The idea of Eito getting an erection from stabbing his Infuser into his heart almost doesn’t seem too far-fetched.  Or it could just be referring to the time since Takumi arrived, since it’s probably been at least an hour and a half.  Takumi knows he’s been turned on for around the same amount of time, but he’s doing a better job of hiding it than Eito is.  That’s an extremely low bar, though .

“Do you want to do something else for awhile?  Calm yourself down a bit?” Takumi offers helpfully.  He’s not sure what activities he could give Eito to do.

“I think,” Eito says, his voice small, “as long as you’re here, it’s not going to improve.”

It’s… almost a sweet sentiment.  It makes it much more jarring when Eito gets off the bed and starts doing pushups.

“What are you doing now?” Takumi asks.

“Sometimes it makes it go away,” Eito says, nose almost touching the floor.  “It’s not a foolproof strategy, but it might buy me some time.”

“Don’t go tiring yourself out on me, Eito,” Takumi says with a laugh.  He counts Eito’s reps in his head while watching.  Eito hits twenty and then stands up.  There’s very little visual difference to his erection but Eito seems more confident.

Too confident.  He lays Takumi down on the bed, manually spreading the smaller boy’s legs and dragging him down so his cock was right at Takumi’s entrance.

“Hey, don’t manhandle me,” Takumi scolds.  “I still have my underwear on too, you’re not going to get real far with that.”  He shimmies out of that last remaining barrier and then repositions himself how Eito had wanted him.  “You have a condom, right?  I’m not fucking taking an emergency contraceptive from the Gift-o-Matic.”

“I do,” Eito says.  Takumi’s stomach does a cartwheel.

“So you’ve wanted this for awhile, then,” Takumi says.  “If you tell me where it is, I can get it and put it on for you.  Looks hard enough to do with eyesight, can’t imagine it’s fun blind.”

Eito gestures in the direction of the nightstand.  Takumi reaches over and opens the drawer, easily finding what he’s looking for.

“Why’d you make so many of them?” he asks while he fumbles with the wrapper.

“I- I-” Eito stutters.

Takumi laughs.  “I’m kidding, there’s only three.  That’s not that many in the grand scheme of things.”  We could probably go through that in one night if-

He doesn’t allow himself to finish that thought.  He rolls the condom onto Eito’s cock, leaving a space at the tip.  Eito bites his lip at the touch but doesn’t say anything.  The condom feels… slimy and he’s not a fan, but he imagines that’s not going to be a pressing concern for much longer.

Eito rubs the tip against Takumi.  “Please…”

“Please, what?” Takumi asks.  He reaches down and guides Eito’s cock so it rests against his entrance.

“Please, can I fuck you now?” Eito squeaks out.

“You’ve been patient.  Go ahead,” Takumi says.  He braces himself.

As he predicted, Eito doesn’t go slow with it.  He eagerly shoves his entire cock into Takumi all at once, letting out a wanton moan.

Takumi hisses through his teeth.  The pain isn’t terrible (or perhaps his pain tolerance is through the roof these days, with the war and everything) and it quickly fades.

Eito stays perfectly still inside him, breathing heavily.

“You doing okay?” Takumi prompts, reaching out and touching Eito’s knee.

“Pushups didn’t work,” Eito says under his breath.  “If I move at all right now I’ll cum.”

Takumi’s eyes widen.  He resists the urge to move or clench down.  As fun as tormenting Eito is, he desperately wants Eito to fuck him.  He won’t do anything to jeopardize that.

Eito digs his nails into his chest, scratching himself hard enough that rivulets of blood begin to drip down his pale skin.  He lets out a pained grunt but repeats the action on his thigh.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Takumi demands.  He starts to sit up but Eito immediately pins him down by the shoulders.

“I feel better now,” Eito says.  His voice is serene.  He takes Takumi’s wrists and holds them next to his ears.  Takumi feels a few drops of Eito’s blood hit his body.  

Eito leans down and kisses him again, torturously slow and languid.  He still hasn’t moved inside Takumi.  He intertwines their fingers on one hand, and Takumi idly realizes this is the first time they’ve held hands without the protective barrier of Eito’s gloves.  Butterflies reappear again in his chest at the thought.  It’s strangely tender, considering how about an hour ago he thought Eito was going to kill him.  He is reminded of reality by the growing numbness in his other hand from how tightly Eito is holding his wrist.

Takumi enjoys the feeling of fullness, of being stretched open, but he needs Eito to move.  He wraps his legs around Eito’s waist, crossing his ankles behind his back.

Sensing the growing impatience, Eito laughs.  “Sorry, Takumi.  You just feel so good, I- I want to take my time and enjoy this.”

“Eito,” Takumi whines.  He’s irritated by how desperate he sounds.  “C’mon, please…”

Finally, finally , Eito starts moving.  He pulls out a few inches and slams back in.  “Fuck,” he groans, picking up his pace.  He feels Takumi clench down on him in response.

Takumi kisses Eito again before he has the chance to make any noises that are too embarrassing, or at least he tells himself that’s the only reason he does it.  The head of Eito’s cock rubs against a particularly sensitive spot inside of him with each movement.  They don’t talk, just moan into each others’ mouths softly.  Eito slows himself again, much to Takumi’s chagrin.  This is unbearably soft.

“You’re hurting my wrists,” Takumi says, trying in vain to free himself from Eito’s vice-like grip.  “And I wanna be on top for a bit.”

“Mm,” Eito hums.  “No, I don’t think so.  I’m enjoying this too much.”

Takumi kicks and struggles, every movement jostling himself on Eito’s dick.  “You can put it right back in, I promise.”

Eito allows Takumi to struggle uselessly for a bit longer, while he continues fucking him at a leisurely pace.  The inside of Takumi felt every bit as good as he’d imagined, tight and slick and squeezing his cock as perfectly as if it had been molded just for him.  Eito knows if he goes any faster, it’ll be over far too soon.  Takumi’s resistance only gives him more to savor.

“Eito!” Takumi yells, and Eito immediately knows he’s in trouble.  He releases Takumi’s hands and pulls out, allowing Takumi to sit up.

“I said I wanted to be on top, didn’t I?  So get on your back,” Takumi says, his tone once again telling Eito there’s no arguing with this.

Eito obeys.  He feels Takumi straddle him, sliding his wetness along Eito’s length.  He takes a shaky breath at the feeling, wishing so badly he could just shove himself back into Takumi’s heat.  But he doesn’t.  He lets Takumi have his fun.

Takumi reaches behind himself and guides Eito’s cock into him again.  This angle is better for him, allows him to control how fast and deep he takes Eito.  He throws his head back in pleasure.  “Fuck, Eito.  You’re perfect.”  He splays his palms against Eito’s muscular chest and rocks his hips a few times.

Perfect? Eito feels his cock twitch and a smile he can’t fully suppress creeps across his face.  He has no clue what he’s doing, but Takumi isn’t the type to praise him without him earning it first.  Takumi’s hands feel like they’re burning him alive.

The way Takumi rides him makes Eito believe this might not be the first time he’s done this particular act.  Whether with someone else- although that thought makes his skin crawl and rage flicker at the front of his thoughts- or with a toy, Takumi is confident in his movements and unabashed with making his pleasure known.  It might be the most vocal he’s been out of every time they’ve been together.

The noises Eito hears, he knows, are not what everyone would hear.  Not that he wants to share these with anyone else- he wants hearing Takumi like this to be his, and his alone.  Even through distortion Eito can tell these are the noises of someone enjoying themselves greatly.

One of Takumi’s hands moves.  Eito isn’t sure where it ends up but that is quickly answered as Takumi tightens and pulses around him, and Eito can hear him rubbing at his dick as he uses Eito’s cock.  

Too good too good too good-

Eito is dangerously close.  He considers scratching himself again but decides against it because of how distraught that seemed to make Takumi.  He whimpers instead.

Takumi stops.  Eito knows if he could still see, he would see Takumi staring down at him with thinly-veiled disgust.

“If you cum before me, I’m gonna keep going until I’m done,” Takumi warns.  “So don’t think premature ejaculation will get you off the hook.”

“It’s hardly premature at this point,” Eito replies indignantly.  He is grateful, at least, that Takumi has stilled for now.  “I’ve been inside you for at least ten minutes.  At least according to the book, that’s a-“

Eito is interrupted by hands around his throat.  Takumi’s fingers threaten to press fatally into his arteries.  He chokes out an incredibly aroused moan, fucking up into Takumi desperately.

“Hah,” Takumi laughs.  “You were so obsessed with choking me in the Laundry Room.  I knew you were projecting.  You have a lot of nerve calling me a degenerate, you know that?”

A warped smile spreads across Eito’s red-purple face as drool spills out of the corner of his mouth.  “You’ve given me,” Eito rasps, “exactly what I wanted.”

Takumi can’t decide if he wants to let go or squeeze harder.

Eito makes the choice for him.  As he’d so often told Takumi, they weren’t comparable in terms of physical strength.  Eito rolls on top of him, forcing Takumi to let go.  This time he holds both of Takumi’s wrists together over his head with one hand.

Takumi gasps as Eito fucks him, hard .  Clearly his patience with Takumi’s games had worn out.  The sounds of skin slapping on skin seem impossibly loud to Eito’s sensitive ears.

It only takes another minute before Eito knows he’s hurtling towards the edge.  Even after overpowering Takumi like this and using his hole, he still is polite.

“I’m gonna cum, Takumi,” Eito says, his voice hoarse.  His teeth once again find Takumi’s shoulder and he bites down.  “Please?  Please, can I cum in you?”  His other hand rubs at Takumi’s cock, exactly the way he’d been taught earlier.  

Takumi shouts, attempting frantically to get away from Eito’s touch.  It’s useless though, and as Eito bites his shoulder again, hard enough to draw blood this time, he cums.  He convulses and twitches, his hole contracting rhythmically around Eito’s cock.

Eito cries out Takumi’s name as he follows after him.  His hips stutter and lose their rhythm, small aborted thrusts as he pushes himself past the point of overstimulation.  He lets go of Takumi and collapses on top of him, cock still inside.

Out of nowhere, Takumi sinks his teeth into Eito’s shoulder.  Eito makes a shocked noise.

“Ow! Why did you do that?”

He can hear Takumi’s shit-eating grin.  “Now we match!”

“You irritate me,” Eito says.

Takumi gives him a kiss on the cheek.  “Wow, I never would’ve guessed.”

Eito can’t overlook the chance to one-up him and kisses him properly, in no rush anymore.  He slides his tongue against Takumi’s easily, feeling the other boy’s breathing under him return to normal.  After awhile, he feels a gentle tap on his back.

“Let’s get up, okay?  It’s late and we don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow.  Mind if I shower here?” Takumi asks.  He sounds… tired.

Eito sits up and pulls out again, leaving Takumi feeling empty.  “You can shower here if you want, I guess I don’t care.”  He can feel the bed shift as Takumi maneuvers to sit with his legs over the edge of the bed.

Takumi watches Eito struggle to remove the condom, and then his heart practically falls out of his ass.  “Holy fuck,” he curses, and he stands up.  Eito hears him getting dressed.

“Weren’t you going to shower?  What’s wrong?”

Takumi continues putting on his clothes.  Eito thinks he hears him trip as he slides on his jeans.  “You couldn’t tell?  The fucking condom broke, Eito.”

Eito also looks like he’s going to be sick.  Takumi’s glad it’s mutual.

“I’m going to go get the emergency contraceptive from the Gift-o-Matic.  I swear to God, if it makes me sick, you’re the one cleaning up after me and nursing me back to health.  Got it?” Takumi is clearly fuming and doesn’t wait for an answer before storming out and slamming the door behind him.

Eito sits in stunned silence for a few moments.  He doesn’t think there’s anything he can do to help Takumi at the moment, so he gets up, stretches, and goes to the shower.  Once he’s cleaned to his standards, he puts on pajamas and trudges over to Takumi’s room, holding his pillow and blanket in his arms.  He rings the doorbell.

He hears the shower turn off and after a minute Takumi opens the door.

“Oh, Eito,” he says, not sounding surprised.  “What do you want?”  

“Well, how am I supposed to nurse you back to health if I can’t keep an eye on you?” Eito says with his token cheerfulness.  “So I figured I’d spend the night!”

Takumi groans.  “Sure, whatever.  Come in, get comfy.”

Eito doesn’t need any further invitation.  He comes into the room and sets his stuff down on the couch.

“You’re… taking the couch?  We can both fit in the bed, Eito,” Takumi says, sheepish.  

Eito turns to face him, looking pleased.  “I didn’t think you would want me that close to you.”

“Honestly, it’s not possible to be closer to another person than we just were, so some bed-sharing isn’t scandalous,” Takumi says.  He sets Eito’s pillow and blanket on one side of the bed- the one farthest from the wall- and then turns out the lights.  The light coming in from the window, from the Artificial Satellite, the stars, and the wall of Undying Flames is enough for him to navigate his way into bed.

He feels Eito settle in behind him, curling himself around Takumi.  He feels Eito breathing against his neck, and Eito wraps an arm over Takumi’s shoulder.  Takumi takes his hand and holds it.

Eito’s solid chest against his back is a comforting warmth.  He’s shocked by how… domestic this feels.  I think I could get used to this , Takumi thinks, and unlike all of his other romantic thoughts towards Eito he doesn’t dismiss it immediately.

He feels his mind get hazier, Eito’s breathing slowing down too.  Takumi cranes his neck to see Eito already asleep behind him.  Damn, dude can sleep anywhere, huh?

“Goodnight, Eito,” he whispers into the silence of the room.

There’s no response.

Chapter Text

There’s a defensive battle two days later and it tears through the Special Defense Unit like a hot knife through butter.

Takumi dies in the first wave, an invader punching a hole through his stomach.  He’s brought back just in time to see Kako, Ima, and Takemaru all go down as well.  He tightens his grip on his sword and throws himself back into the fray, barely taking a single hit in his fury.  Eito is fighting next to him, of course, and as they pick off the final few remaining monsters, he sees Eito take a particularly brutal blow, and he crumples to the ground.

“Eito!” Takumi shouts, running over to dispatch the invader before it can strike Eito again.  Eito’s been shockingly capable in battle since he lost his eyesight, but it makes sense that an invader would occasionally get the drop on him.

To his surprise, Takumi doesn’t see a Corpse Recovery Drone deploy.  He drops to his knees in the dirt of the Schoolyard, gently shaking Eito.

“C’mon man, it’s over, get up,” Takumi says.  Blood flows out of Eito’s nose and Eito takes a sudden, sharp breath, choking on his own cryptoglobin.  It’s a disgusting, wet rattling sound that immediately makes Takumi want to vomit, even though he’s heard it many times before.  He rolls Eito to his side so he doesn’t aspirate.  “Eito, can you walk?  Here, let’s try, I’ll help you.”

Eito shakes his head feebly.  “No dice, Takumi.”  He coughs again, blood cascading past his lips.  “I might have to ask a favor of you.”

Takumi feels cold when he realizes what Eito means.  It’s not… an unheard of strategy, when a wound is fatal but takes too long to kill them.  Yugamu had shown them the best places to accelerate the blood loss to cause hemorrhagic shock, and get the drones there faster.

Eito is asking him to kill him.

“I…” Takumi starts.  It’s a request with an inherently high level of vulnerability, and the reason he wants to say no is so selfish he thinks briefly he should kill himself instead.  How would he even phrase that?  I’m sorry, I can’t, it reminds me too much of killing you in my first timeline?  He’s such a piece of shit.  He swallows, mouth feeling like it’s full of cotton balls.  Looks over at his sword, discarded a few feet away, and then nods, not that Eito can see it.  He grabs his sword.  “Understood.  How do you want me to do it?”

There’s a prolonged period of silence and Takumi almost thinks Eito died while he hesitated.

“Carotid, if you’re able.  Probably difficult with your sword but it’s what I would prefer.  Femoral if you must,” Eito says, his voice barely audible.  “Oh, Takumi, I might have to cancel our date tonight.”

“D-date?” Takumi stammers.  He’s white-knuckling the hilt of his sword.  Right.  Eito wanted to come over.  For sex.  How could he possibly have forgotten that?  “That’s fine, Eito, I want you to feel better.”  It feels ironic to say that, considering what he’s about to do.  He pats Eito on the shoulder and stands, extending his sword down towards the boy’s extended neck.  He’s shaking so badly he’s afraid he’s going to bungle this.

“Are you sure you want me to do it?  I can get Yugamu, too-“

“No,” Eito says firmly.  “I… need it to be you.”

They’ve gathered quite the crowd, the remaining members of the SDU standing about thirty feet back to give them some privacy.

“Okay,” Takumi says, steeling himself.  “Okay, do you want a warning or-“

He thinks Eito shakes his head.  The tip of his blade makes a faint indent to mark the common carotid, and Takumi makes himself watch as he severs it with one quick motion.  Eito barely flinches.

The arterial bleed comes in rapid spurts, spraying across Eito’s slumped body.  Takumi kneels back down and grabs Eito, holding him.  He cups the side of Eito’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

“Thank you,” Eito gurgles.  He jerks suddenly and Takumi’s hand that had been resting on his chest moves and- and-

The tips of his fingers press ever so slightly into the white smoke in Eito’s chest.

Eito moans, one shaky hand grabbing Takumi by the wrist.

Takumi’s fingers tingle and burn, the feeling entirely foreign.  But the noise Eito made… clearly it didn’t feel bad for him.  He thinks back, vaguely, to the other day when he’d threatened to poke Eito’s chest hole.  He’d assumed it would hurt… not… well, whatever Eito just felt that made him moan like that.  He tucks that information away as Eito’s grip on his wrist loosens and he’s able to put his hand back on the center of Eito’s chest, feeling his thready heartbeat get weaker.

“I got you,” he whispers to Eito, leaning down.  He sneaks a kiss on his forehead, and holds him tight until the Corpse Recovery Drone comes.

Nobody approaches him after the battle.  He guesses the expression on his face is dire enough to repel them.  His Class Armor is soaked in Eito’s blood and the smell overwhelms him, but he manages to keep himself composed until he returns to his room.  He dispels his Armor and the blood vanishes with it, but that doesn’t stop Takumi from emptying the contents of his stomach into his toilet.  He loses track of how long he sits hunched over his toilet crying and retching.

And then the fucking doorbell rings.

“Give me a minute,” Takumi calls, hoping it’s not immediately obvious what he’s been up to from his voice.  He brushes his teeth and splashes cool water on his face, before taking a steadying breath and opening the door to greet his visitor.

There stands Eito, his hands folded politely in front of him.  He’s wearing his usual, gentle smile.  “Hello, Takumi,” he says quietly.  “Looks like I won’t have to cancel after all.”

Takumi has a hard time not staring at the new scar on Eito’s neck.  It seems the way he was injured- a hemoanima-infused weapon- had left a mark, despite his reanimation.  He pulls Eito into the room, shuts the door, and peppers his face with kisses, pulling him down to his height by the front of his jacket.

Eito bats him away.  “You’re gross!  Stop that.  You knew I was going to be okay.  This is quite the overreaction.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Takumi says, giving Eito his space.  “I’m just… so relieved.”  He lets Eito take the couch, noticing he’s walking rather stiffly.  That’s not weird, he did just get brought back to life.  Takumi sits on the edge of his bed, feeling a thousand times lighter as he looks at Eito in front of him, alive and whole.  “I wasn’t expecting you to still come over though.  W- we don’t have to stick to our original plans, either, if you’re not feeling up to it!  I’d be happy to just listen to a book or a movie or-”

“No,” Eito interrupts, blushing.  “If you’re alright with it, I would like to keep our plans mostly as they were.”

Takumi opens his mouth, and then closes it before he can say anything stupid.  He wants to ask if Eito was sure, but Eito wouldn’t just say he was okay with it to appease Takumi.  “Oh!  Cool,” he says, immediately kicking himself for how fucking stupid he sounds.  He feels a familiar thrum of arousal.  God, I wanna fuck him so bad.   But he’s ready to take things at a slower pace today if Eito needs it.  He’ll rein himself in, somehow, even though Eito really brings out something unexpected and feral in him.  “Wait, what do you mean, ‘mostly’?”

Eito reaches into his jacket and pulls out their Infusers.   His face is so much redder as he does so.

“Eito, why…” Takumi starts.  “Why would you bring those… for this?”

“Don’t worry about it for now,” Eito says, clearly trying to sound reassuring.  It doesn’t work in the slightest, and he seems to sense Takumi’s unease.  “Please, it’s just an idea I had.  We don’t have to do anything with them.”

Takumi stares at him again, wondering what Eito is hiding.  He would’ve had to go extremely out of his way to get the Infusers before coming to Takumi’s room.  That goes way past just “an idea” that Eito had randomly.  He sits down next to Eito, sliding his hand along Eito’s thigh.  Eito’s entire body shudders.  He pulls Takumi onto his lap.  

That’s just fine with Takumi- he’s not nearly done kissing Eito yet, and he resumes covering Eito’s face in little kisses.

“You’re slobbering on me like a dog,” Eito complains, although he makes no move to stop Takumi, sitting and bearing his punishment until Takumi is satisfied.

It’s blessedly shorter than he expects.  Takumi finally stops, sitting back and breathing heavily.  Eito looks relieved.  Maybe he’s still getting used to Takumi’s penchant for displays of affection.  It’s not something he’s ever experienced, or even thought he could accept.  Strange, how one very annoying and persistent boy and about a month of time could change that entirely. 

Eito lightly rests his hands on Takumi’s hips, encouraging him to grind against his lap.  Which Takumi does eagerly, feeling Eito’s cock stiffen under him.

“It takes so little to get you worked up, Eito,” Takumi says.  “It’s kinda embarrassing, no?”

“Shut up.” Eito scowls, but Takumi can tell it’s not serious.  He leans down and kisses Takumi on the lips, open-mouthed and desperate.  It feels… possessive in a way.  Almost crazed.  Takumi struggles to keep up with the pace.  Eito tugs gently on Takumi’s bottom lip with his teeth, and Takumi squeaks out a shocked noise.

“Hey!” Takumi says, pulling back enough to speak.  “What’s gotten into you?  Not that I’m complaining, but-”

“I said,” Eito replies, his voice low, “shut up.”  Without further warning, he stands, picking Takumi up with him.  Takumi panics and wraps his legs around Eito’s waist and clasps his hands behind Eito’s neck.  He’s half expecting to be thrown onto the bed again, but instead, Eito simply sits down on the side of the bed.

Takumi kisses him again, but he’s distracted.  Something feels off.  He feels on edge for reasons he can’t fully put into words.  It’s probably nothing, he tells himself, as he focuses his hands on unzipping Eito’s jacket and slides his hands under his shirt.

Eito’s chest has always been particularly sensitive, and today is no exception.  Takumi thumbs at his nipples, feeling them stiffen under his touch.  He swallows Eito’s moans greedily as he pinches at them.

“Takumi,” Eito whines.  He holds Takumi to him and swings his legs over the edge of the bed and lays down.

Takumi repositions himself.  “Will you quit moving me around like I’m a ragdoll?”  He can feel Eito’s erection poking against his inner thigh.  He’s probably just trying to hurry me up.  Well, unfortunately for Eito, Takumi had no intention of rushing things.  “You still want me to fuck you, yeah?”

“So crass,” Eito says, scolding.  

“Is that a no, then?” Takumi asks.  He can’t keep the smile out of his voice.

Eito shakes his head fervently.  “No! I mean, it’s a,” the flush on his face gets more pronounced and he sighs, “yes, I still would like you to fuck me.”

“Seems like you’re finally getting used to using your words,” Takumi responds.  “Such a good boy.”  He still feels awkward and forced when he says things like that, but Eito doesn’t seem to notice or care.  Maybe something corny like that was right up his alley, for all Takumi knows.

“Um,” Eito starts, and then stops himself.  His sunglasses are askew and he looks debauched, lips wet with their combined saliva.  

Takumi sits back a little.  “Yeah?  Something wrong?”

“I guess I have a request for you.  And you probably won’t like it, so you’re welcome to say no.  Consider it an experiment,” Eito says, sounding hesitant.  “When I… when I died earlier today…”

Oh, no … Takumi thinks he might know where this is going.  He partially hopes he’s wrong, but a part of him that has been steadily getting harder to ignore since he starting having sex with Eito is clamoring with excitement.

“You were holding me, and you accidentally- or at least, I think it was an accident- stuck your fingers in the cavity in my chest,” Eito continues, and Takumi’s fears are confirmed.

Takumi decides to keep his opinions to himself until Eito is done talking, but Eito stops himself there.

“I’m being quite vulnerable here and you’re giving me no way to judge your reactions,” Eito says after a moment of silence.  “I can’t see your ugly face, after all.”

Takumi bites his lip, embarrassed.  “Sorry.  I wanted to let you talk.  I’m giving you my full, undivided attention.”

Eito nods once, still laying down.  He looks serious.  “It felt so good, Takumi.  It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I came back.  I need to feel it again…”  He props himself up on his elbows, turning his face up to Takumi.  “It’s why I brought our Infusers.  I brought yours too.  We can try it together.”

The room is spinning.  Takumi feels like he can’t breathe.  There’s a maniacal undertone to Eito’s voice, and Takumi knows instinctively he’s not joking or exaggerating.  He sounds as crazed as the original Eito Takumi knew.  That’s the part that worries him the most, that somehow he fell for another of Eito’s traps.

“Fine,” Takumi says, knowing it’s probably against his better judgement.  “Let’s transform.”  He takes the Infusers off the table and hands Eito his.  “But you’ll have to earn that, first.”

Without any further prelude, Takumi stabs the Infuser into his heart.

By the time he comes back to himself, Eito is just finishing his transformation.  The floor is covered in blood, and seeing it almost sends Takumi into a spiral again as he remembers the end of the battle earlier in the day.  He forces himself to look away, and insteads turns his attention back to Eito.

“You look so hot in your Class Armor,” Takumi blurts out, before he can stop himself.

“S-stop, that’s disgusting,” Eito says, but it’s a weak, halfhearted protest.  He sits down and takes off his boots.  “These things are equally ridiculous and I’m not keeping them on.”

Somehow it hasn’t occurred to Takumi that he can remove pieces of Class Armor.  All the better for the situation they’re in, he supposes.  He follows suit and removes his boots, feeling a little sad he’s shorter again.  Eito removes his pants, too.  

Seems like somebody’s eager , Takumi thinks to himself.  He goes to his drawer and pulls out the strap-on, slipping into the harness, and sets a bottle of lube on top of the nightstand.  Better not keep him waiting .  “Lie back, Eito.”

Eito does.  He lets his legs fall apart like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  Takumi climbs onto the bed, removing the gloves of his Class Armor.  He pours a little lube onto his hand, coating one finger.

He prods it against Eito’s hole and it goes in shockingly easily.  Takumi narrows his eyes, remembering how stilted Eito’s gait had been when he arrived at Takumi's room.

“Did you… get yourself ready?” Takumi asks.  He fucks Eito lazily with one finger while he waits for an answer.

Eito takes a deep breath, shivering as Takumi touches him.  “I did.”

Takumi’s flabbergasted.  Seriously, what has gotten into Eito lately?  He slides a second finger in, curling them up in the way he remembers Eito liking.  “You… have a lot of nerve calling me a pervert, you know that, right?”

“Oh, please,” Eito scoffs.  “It’s just so your vile fingers are in me for less time.  Hardly perverted.”

I really thought he was making progress, Takumi thinks, but apparently not.  Unless this is some kind of defense mechanism .  The thought makes him kind of sad.  They’re finally getting close and Eito is rebuilding the walls Takumi has worked to bring down.  He pulls his fingers out and lines up the head of his strap-on– his cock– with Eito’s hole.

Eito’s face is pointed expectantly at him.  “Don’t make me beg, Takumi.”

“I won’t,” Takumi promises, slowly pushing in.  “Not for this part, at least.”  He fucks Eito slowly, watching the other man melt into the mattress.  Eito’s fingers dig into the sheets and he wraps his legs around Takumi’s waist, not letting him pull out.

“Faster,” Eito pants.

Takumi grabs his face.  “Where’s your manners?  I said I wouldn’t make you beg, but you can at least be polite.”

“Faster, please ,” Eito corrects, his voice venomous.  He digs his heels painfully into the small of Takumi’s back and pulls him down by his collar.

“Good boy,” Takumi mumbles against Eito’s lips, earning himself a pleased moan.  He obliges Eito’s request, fucking him faster, harder.  Having Eito’s hands that close to his neck makes him nervous, but his attention is too focused elsewhere to make Eito move them.  He feels Eito’s cock twitch where it’s sandwiched between their bodies.  The rough fabric of their Class Armor probably is rubbing against it in a way Takumi can’t imagine is pleasurable, but it’s Eito he’s talking about.  Eito likes pain.  

After a while Eito lets go of Takumi, dropping his hands back to bunch into the comforter.  Takumi takes advantage of this and sits up, eyes narrowing on his new target.

He’d never really considered the holes in their chests.  

The white smoke curls and dances, pulsing in time with their heartbeats.  Yugamu had once suggested maybe they were souls.  Takumi wasn’t sure if he bought that, but he doesn’t have another explanation for it now as he stares at Eito’s chest.  He’s never really noticed (he’s never really looked) but there’s a slight sparkle to it, too, glinting like knives.  Takumi puts his hand on Eito’s chest, in the center, and Eito’s breath hitches.  

Takumi doesn’t move it, though, just rubs the hard muscle over the Armor.  He feels apprehensive about what Eito is asking him to do.  It’s… unnatural.

He barely manages not to laugh out loud.  What the fuck about all of this is natural?  In the setting of the War, their fake memories, their cryptoglobin, a little fingering in someone’s chest cavity that might also be their exposed soul doesn’t seem that outlandish.

Beneath him, Eito whimpers pathetically, bringing Takumi back to the present.  Takumi looks down and notices that Eito is leaking profusely, pre-cum soaking into his Armor.  It’s a little surprising.

“You close?” Takumi asks.  He traces one finger lightly along a vein on the underside of Eito’s cock.  It twitches in response and so does Eito, who makes another small, choked noise.

Eito turns his head to the side.  “A little.”

Takumi’s impressed.  Either he’s very good at fucking or Eito is extremely needy.  Probably some combination of both options.  He moves his hand an inch to the side, closer to the hole.

“Takumi,” Eito moans.  “Please!”  He takes Takumi’s wrist and guides him over.

He hesitates, his fingertips a hair’s breadth from touching it.  He inhales, holds his breath, and softly probes one finger in.

Without his gloves on, it burns .  It’s red-hot pins and needles, like when he’d fall asleep in class and his hand would go numb from the pressure of his head resting on it.  The feeling fades after a few seconds, to tingling warmth.  It’s almost pleasant.  He adds his middle finger.

Eito arches his back off the bed.  “O- oh!”  He scrabbles frantically for purchase on the bed, as Takumi begins thrusting his fingers in and out steadily.

It’s… not like fingering a person.  There is no internal point of pleasure to aim for, just a gelatinous squish around his digits.  He knows that probably makes it easier, but he likes having a goal.  This just feels like poking aimlessly.

But it’s clearly doing something to Eito.  He’s so fucking loud .  Takumi uses his free hand, the one not currently several knuckles deep into Eito’s chest, and puts it over Eito’s mouth.  He can feel hot breath against his palm as Eito makes an indignant protest.  Probably for the best, Takumi isn’t sure he locked his door in his excitement and this isn’t something he wants to try to explain to any of the others.  

“Be.  Quiet,” Takumi hisses through his teeth.  He feels Eito groan into his hand.  Takumi fucks into him harder, both with his cock and with his fingers.  

It doesn’t take long before Eito is making desperate noises.  Takumi has barely even touched his cock and yet Eito, thrusting up into the air, cums harder than Takumi thought possible.  It goes as far as Eito’s glasses , and then slows, dribbling onto Eito’s belly.  Eito tries to sink his teeth into Takumi’s palm, but it just scrapes painfully.  On instinct, before his mind can catch up to his body, Takumi slaps him.

Takumi’s stomach churns the second he realizes what he’s done.  “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry, Eito, I…”

Eito grins, looking deranged.  There’s a red handprint on his face.  “No apology necessary.  But, please get out of me.”

Takumi pulls out, and Eito winces.  He realizes he still has his fingers in Eito’s chest, so he removes those too.

“Your glasses…” Takumi says.  “You, um, got some ‘you’ on them.”  He gently takes them off, and goes to rinse them in the sink.  He hands them back to Eito, who gives him a normal, kind smile this time as he puts them back on.

“You’re so thoughtful, Takumi,” Eito says.  “Thank you.”  He sits up, dispelling his Class Armor and leaning against the wall.  He’s fully dressed again.  He pats the spot on the bed between his legs and gestures for Takumi to come over.  “You’re so busy taking care of others, you forget about yourself…”

Takumi blushes.  “Don’t be corny.”  He takes off his Class Armor pants and goes and sits with his back to Eito’s chest, like he had when they first had sex.

Eito reaches down, and Takumi notices he must’ve taken off his Class Armor’s gloves at some point as bare skin touches his t-dick. He exhales heavily at the touch, relaxing into Eito’s solid form.  Lips ghost against his neck and he moans happily.

He can see Eito hesitate as his other hand goes to touch Takumi’s chest.

“It’s okay,” Takumi encourages, and Eito rests his hand over Takumi’s heart.

He furiously rubs at Takumi’s cock, occasionally wetting his fingers with the slick fluid leaking from Takumi’s hole.  It’s… not the way Takumi would go about it on his own, but something about it being Eito doing it makes the ordeal tolerable, enjoyable even.

Eito slides his hand across Takumi’s chest, feeling around the edge of the chest cavity.  Takumi shivers.  He’s not sure if he’s ready for this.

“May I?” Eito asks.

Takumi swallows thickly before he answers.  “Yeah, go for it.”

Eito doesn’t need any further prompting.  He slides two fingers into Takumi’s soul.

As he’d learned on the giving end, it’s an entirely foreign sensation.  Being on the receiving end is still unlike anything Takumi’s ever felt.

There’s an initial searing pain, his vision going white and dots dancing across his field of view.  It fades into a dull ache, and then gives way to something he can only describe as pure pleasure , straight from the hedonistic source.  He lurches forward, mouth hanging open.

“See?” Eito says.

“Holy fuck ,” Takumi curses.  Between both of Eito’s hands doing what they’re doing, he thinks he’s going to explode.  “Y-you weren’t kidding, it- ngh , feels incredible.”

Eito kisses his neck as he continues.  He sucks little marks into the skin, in a spot he knows damn well won’t be covered by Takumi’s clothes.

“Bastard,” Takumi mutters, but he doesn’t have much time to be angry.  Eito’s only been touching him for a few minutes but he knows he can’t last much longer.  He rocks his hips into Eito’s hand, feeling himself drip onto the fabric of his comforter.  He’d be embarrassed if he had that capacity right now, but as it stands, he’s only capable of staying conscious, and that honestly might be too much in the face of this overwhelming attack on his senses.

He manages to bleat out Eito’s name before he cums.  Ever attentive, Eito immediately takes his hand off Takumi’s dick, but he leaves his fingers inside his chest, fucking it slowly.  The overstimulation that provides is different than if he’d kept touching his dick after orgasm.  It almost paralyzes him, going entirely limp in Eito’s arms.

“Takumi?” Eito calls, and although Takumi hears it, he can’t answer.  None of his voluntary muscles respond to his demands.  Eito hums, apparently realizing what’s happened.

And then he fucks into Takumi’s soul harder, now with three fingers.

Takumi can’t even make a sound.  He’s vaguely aware he’s shaking.

“I wonder if I could put my cock in here,” Eito says.  “I… wonder if I could cum in here.  We should do an experiment some time, Takumi!  Of course, not right now, I think we’re both a little too tired.”

That’s the understatement of the century , Takumi thinks through the haze.

Eito kisses him again, tilting Takumi’s head back.  He’s like putty in Eito’s hands like this.  “I guess that’ll be a plan for later.”  He pulls his fingers out, and Takumi stays unmoving.

He slides down in bed, taking Takumi with him.  He positions Takumi so his head rests on his chest.  “Hah, you’re like a doll like this.  An ugly, stinky doll.  But it’s kind of fun.”  He strokes Takumi’s hair and kisses him on the forehead.  “Hopefully this isn’t permanent though…”

If it was possible, that would’ve made Takumi scream.  But he can’t, so he simply agrees in his head, nuzzles into Eito’s chest, and falls asleep.

Chapter Text

Eito tilts his head to the side, in the way Takumi has told him many times, in no uncertain terms, is reminiscent of a dog.  He can’t help it- he’s confused, he’s unsure if he heard Takumi right, and he needs clarification.

“You don’t have to look so surprised,” Takumi mumbles, clenching and unclenching his fists on the front of Eito’s jacket.

Surprised? No, no that’s not the expression Eito was going for at all.  Maybe he was a little shocked, but that wasn’t the primary emotion he felt.  “It’s not that.  I’m just not sure I got that correctly.  Can you… repeat yourself, please?”

He feels Takumi ball up his jacket in his hands.  He’s going to need to iron it later, at this rate.  Why’s he so mad?  It’s a simple request!

Takumi sighs, exasperated.  “I said, I’d like you to take control for tonight.”

So I did hear him correctly, Eito thinks.  He’s still baffled.  Sure, they have an unusual dynamic, fighting each other at every turn during intimacy.  If “intimacy” was the right word.  But Eito had always been happy to cede the battle to Takumi.  He licks his lips.  “Why, though?”

The resulting silence makes Eito think he’s accidentally struck a nerve.  He opens his mouth to apologize but he’s interrupted as Takumi speaks.

“I’m so tired of leading, of making choices,” Takumi says, and he sounds exhausted .  “I don’t want to think.”

From where he’s sitting on Takumi’s lap, he can feel Takumi’s body shake.  Is he crying?  He takes Takumi’s face in his hands, wiping under his eyes with his gloved thumbs.  He considers asking if Takumi is okay but quickly discards that as a stupid question.  Instead, he leans forward and wraps his arms around Takumi in a tight embrace.  Takumi is sitting with his back against the wall and as Eito goes to rest his face in the crook of Takumi’s neck, he instead hits his head against the concrete with a crack!

“Eito!” Takumi says.  He pushes Eito back so he can look at his head.  Eito feels his fingers trace along his hairline.  It tickles, but he makes himself sit still until Takumi is satisfied he’s not seriously injured.

“Y’know, sometimes people’s pupils get uneven after a head trauma,” Eito says casually, trying to lighten the mood.  “I’d say you should look at mine, but…”

Takumi groans.  “Clearly, you’re just fine.”

“It would take more than that to actually hurt me,” Eito agrees.  He once again cups Takumi’s face, this time pressing his lips to the shorter boy’s mouth.  He ran his tongue against the seam of Takumi’s lips, feeling them part somewhat hesitantly.

Eito decides to go on the attack.  He is most comfortable on the battlefield, after all.  He grabs Takumi by the back of his head, curling his fingers tightly in his hair.  Then, he stabs his tongue into Takumi’s mouth, licking into him desperately.  He feels Takumi’s breathing quicken.  He lets his hands roam over Takumi’s body, pulling his jacket off and hoodie over his head.  There needs to be less barriers between their bodies.  Between Eito and his objective .  So he removes his gloves too.

Takumi allows it to happen.  The part of Eito that hates humanity wishes he’d at least put up a bit of a struggle, but Takumi seems resolved to just let Eito do whatever he wants.  Well, Eito isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.  He grabs Takumi by the neck and kisses him again, as frenzied as before.  Something about Takumi’s overwhelming compliance is making his head fuzzy.  His free hand grabs at Takumi’s crotch, rubbing where he can feel the stiffened shape of Takumi’s dick.  There’s an unmistakable dampness to the fabric of the sweats, too.  

He slides his hand under them, but over Takumi’s boxers.  He’s not rushing this.  If Takumi wants to stop thinking… Eito’s going to deliver.

One less layer between them, Takumi finally makes a sound as Eito touches him again.  It’s a delicious moan that goes directly to Eito’s cock.  He wants so badly to fuck Takumi again, and maybe he will get to do that later.  Takumi might allow it as a reward if he completes his task to his satisfaction.  There’s a fire in his belly at that realization.  But he’ll have to earn that first.

Eito takes off the rest of his clothes.  He knows Takumi likes looking at him.  Humans are very visual creatures after all, so he might as well give Takumi something to enjoy.  As he suspected, Takumi lets out a little groan and Eito feels hands lovingly caress his chest, trailing down his toned abdomen and resting on his hips.

“Eito,” Takumi says quietly, like he’s begging.

“Yes, Takumi?” Eito responds.  He leans down, close to Takumi’s face.  He can feel him breathing heavily.

“Please touch me,” Takumi whispers.  He takes Eito’s wrist and guides him, but Eito pulls it away.  Takumi whines his complaint.

Eito knows what he wants to do, and it isn’t just jacking Takumi off.  He fumbles, removing Takumi’s boxers, and tosses them aside without really caring where they end up as long as they’re not on Takumi and impeding his progress.  

He leans in, clumsily aiming a kiss at what he hopes is Takumi’s upper stomach.  It’s a miscalculation, though, and he ends up planting his face into Takumi’s binder.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Takumi asks, tone implying he’s less than impressed.  Despite that, he doesn’t try to move Eito away.

“Sorry, sorry, I can’t see where I’m going, obviously,” Eito says.  “Let me try again…”

Eito readjusts and moves himself down a little lower.  This time his lips press against soft, warm skin, and it gets a much better reaction from Takumi, whose hips push up into nothing and makes a needy moan.  Eito feels like his lips are on fire.  It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s the glitch in your brain.  He keeps repeating this to himself as he kisses downwards.  Eventually his lips touch hair- coarse, needle-like- it’s not real, it’s the glitch in your brain .  Takumi is shivering under him, but Eito can’t tell if it’s from cold or arousal.  A few more gentle kisses and he’ll be at his destination.  The familiar scent of Takumi’s arousal gets stronger.  He admits, he found it disgusting at first, as he did everything about Takumi.  Maybe it’s exposure therapy, but he’s used to it now.  It’s only… somewhat gross to him at this point.

He forces Takumi’s legs apart.  This angle is no good , Eito thinks to himself.  He has to move.  Or Takumi does.  He hoists Takumi by the legs, pulling him down roughly in bed.

Takumi makes a noise of protest but doesn’t actually resist.  It’s at this point Eito realizes he’s too tall to make this work the way he’d envisioned, so he drags Takumi down even further, so his ass is hanging off the bed.  Eito gets on his knees at the foot of the bed, inching forward.

He decides to mark the inside of Takumi’s thighs first.  It’s his payback, since Takumi had done the same to him.  There’s… slightly less reward to it, though, since he can’t see his handiwork.  He contents himself with the pathetic sounds Takumi makes with each bite.  Once he’s sure Takumi is adequately covered in bite marks, he bites down hard one final time and pulls back.  Takumi practically howls.

“Well, well, well,” Eito says.  “I’ve long thought it was the case, but it’s nice to get confirmation like this.  You do have a masochistic streak.”  He sighs.  “Fine by me, I still enjoy tormenting you.”

“No shit,” Takumi snaps.

Eito buries his face into Takumi.  He laps along the outside of Takumi’s hole, tasting him.  “You’re so wet.  Interesting.  And I haven’t even touched your cock yet.  Is this just from giving control over to me?”

Predictably, Takumi ignores him.  That’s fine, I guess.  Just means I’m right.

“Do you want me to suck your dick, Takumi?”  Eito asks.  He knows Takumi has strong feelings about the way Eito says his name.

“This isn’t about what I want,” Takumi says.  “You’re supposed to be doing what you want to me.  I put you in charge tonight, remember?”

“What I want?  What if that’s hearing you beg?  You enjoy making me say filthy things, I might as well return the favor.”

Takumi is quiet for a moment.  From his vantage point on the floor, Eito can’t feel much of what’s going on.

“Please, Eito,” Takumi whimpers, “please suck my dick.”

Eito can hear the cringe in Takumi’s voice.  It gives him a head rush on par with using his Infuser.  “Since you asked so nicely,” he says, mouth pressed against Takumi’s thigh.  He presses his lips to the tip of Takumi’s dick, and then takes it into his mouth.

“ Ahhn! ” Takumi moans loudly.  Eito’s used to the sound by now but the volume almost makes him pull away on instinct.

He sucks softly.  The heat radiating from Takumi’s body makes his face feel even more flushed as he bobs his head, using the point of his tongue to stroke the sensitive head.  Takumi immediately starts writhing, trying to pull away.

“No,” Eito growls, and he takes a firm hold on Takumi’s legs, keeping him in place.  “Stay.”

It was something Eito noticed Takumi does sometimes.  His dick is so sensitive .  Even when Eito thought he was being overly gentle, apparently it was still too much.  Takumi makes such interesting noises when he’s being overstimulated, and Eito hasn’t heard nearly enough of them.

“Eito!” Takumi cries.  Eito can feel his cock throbbing in his mouth, and he sucks at it harder.

Takumi cums, but Eito doesn’t stop.  Rather, he slides two fingers into Takumi’s hole.  It’s easy with how dripping wet he is at this point, and he can feel the aftershocks of Takumi’s orgasm pulsing around his fingers.  Takumi shouts in shock, tinged with pain.

Takumi kicks futilely.  “Stop, stop, stop!”

Eito pulls back, raising his head in Takumi’s direction, but he keeps thrusting his fingers, periodically curling them up.  “Do you actually want me to stop or are you just saying that?”

He can feel Takumi’s gaze on him.  “W-what?”

“You might just be saying ‘stop’ on instinct, in response to an unpleasant stimulus.  We should have a separate word for you to use, if you seriously wish to stop,” Eito says, his tone thoughtful.  “That way, I can ignore your pitiful pleas until you actually mean it.”

“So… a safeword,” Takumi sighs.  “Lemme guess, you saw that in the human sexuality book?”

Eito looks away.  “Perhaps.  But I still thought it was an interesting concept for… battle training and such.”

“Sure, sure,” Takumi says dismissively.  “Well, what do you want the word to be?”

He moves his fingers inside Takumi again while he thinks, pressing in a third while he’s at it.  “Scythe,” he answers, after a moment.

“Egotistical jerk,” Takumi quips, with a lot of attitude for someone with the majority of Eito’s fingers inside him.

“No!  It just meets the criteria of a good safeword.  Easy to say, easy to remember, and not something you’d say normally during this kind of activity.”

Takumi rocks his hips against Eito’s hand.  “You put a lot of effort into remembering something for ‘battle training’, Eito.  You’re truly dedicated.”

Eito groans and chooses to hold his tongue for now.  He pulls his fingers out of Takumi, who grunts at him in annoyance at the loss.  “On the subject of the book, there’s something else I want to try.”

“Really?” Takumi asks.  Eito hears him sit up and gets to his feet as well.

He steels himself.  There’s no way this isn’t going to sound awkward and forced.  He’s not sure if it’ll be sexy to Takumi or just uncomfortable.  He takes a deep breath.  “Can you sit on my face?”

There’s a horrid moment of silence, and then an even worse sound splits the air.

Takumi starts laughing.  He laughs and laughs, as if Eito had just told him a hilarious joke and not made an earnest request.

Eito purses his lips.

“Oh, you’re serious?  Um, sure, I guess.”  Takumi stands up and Eito lays down on the bed.  He feels Takumi straddle his mouth.  “Are you sure about this, Eito?”

“Stupid as always, Takumi.  Questioning me when you freely handed me the reins?  I’m supposed to be doing what I want to you,” Eito says.  He feels Takumi’s thighs shaking on either side of his ears, warmth radiating from his core.  Eito grabs him, wrapping his arms around Takumi and digging his fingers into his hips, pulling him down and holding him in place.  He hears a dull slap as, presumably, Takumi braces himself against the wall against the onslaught of Eito’s tongue.

He’s making those noises Eito treats like a reward, the ones that sound like they could belong in either the battlefield or the bedroom.  Takumi tries to raise himself back up, but Eito doesn’t allow it, his strong arms forcing Takumi to stay exactly where he is.

“ Fuck, Eito, it- you-“ Takumi stammers nonsensically.  Eito would have made a scathing remark about how Takumi’s way with words has been taken from him, if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.

If his goal is “stop Takumi from thinking” he’s pretty sure he’s found a great way to do it.  Takumi continues his incoherent ramblings through occasional desperate moans and jolts of his hips.  As overwhelmed as Eito is by this current positioning, it’s nice- there’s zero chance of escape from Eito’s ministrations for Takumi.  He can feel the fluid from the shorter boy’s hole collect on his chin, and eventually run down his neck.  I’m making him clean me up after this , Eito thinks with no shortage of nausea.  

One of Takumi’s hands, presumably the one not pressed against the wall for support, grabs Eito’s hair suddenly.  His thighs threaten to crush Eito’s head and he wails as he cums for a second time.

Eito keeps licking into him at the same frenetic pace, broad swipes with the flat of his tongue to ensure no part of Takumi’s sensitive dick goes untouched.  Above him, Takumi is shaking violently, almost seizure-like.

“ Ah, Eito, stop, it hurts, it’s- it’s too much,” Takumi begs.  He tries again, in vain, to pull out of Eito’s mouth.  Eito digs his nails into the soft skin of his hips, leaving crescent-moon shapes behind, as a physical way of saying Stay. Put.

He doesn’t hear the safeword among Takumi’s babbles, to his delight, so he continues.  The hand in his hair pulls, and Eito can’t stop himself from moaning, as much as he tries to hold it back.  

Takumi laughs at the noise Eito makes.  “Some things never change, huh?”  His voice is shaky and wrecked.

“You’re the worst,” Eito mutters, a small miracle considering his mouth is otherwise occupied.  The little tugs on his roots as he laves his tongue over Takumi’s dick are powerful encouragement, as are the pleas Takumi makes for him to stop.  He imagines this is pretty painful for him.

Good , Eito thinks, satisfied.  Even with his fondness for him, his faulty brain takes enjoyment in making humans suffer.  With Takumi, at least he has an acceptable target for these impulses.

Eito is dimly aware of his hips rolling up into nothing.  He’s harder than he’s probably ever been, and there’s not much he can do about it for now.  Takumi starts struggling again, which provides a much-needed distraction from his own body.  When will he learn that he’s not getting away from me?

“Eito, please,” Takumi sobs, and this time his throat sounds wet.  Eito knows what that is- Takumi is crying.  As if to confirm his suspicions, he feels two warm, wet plops against his forehead.  “Fuck!”  There’s another gush of fluid and Takumi’s cock throbs against his lips again, as Takumi cums yet again.

He revels in this for a moment, before he feels a crushing weight on his face.  Takumi’s slumped against the wall for support, entirely spent.  Eito can barely breathe and he taps Takumi’s leg frantically.  The boy on top of him doesn’t respond.

Eito’s body tingles like there’s flies crawling over him.  He struggles to inhale but can’t, his nose and mouth smothered by Takumi’s crotch.  Panic fully sets in and he starts pulling at the skin of Takumi’s hips, leaving long scratches that probably bleed.  Takumi raises himself and scrambles away.

“Oh my god, Eito, I’m so sorry,” Takumi says.  He still sounds like he’s crying, and he might be crying for multiple reasons at this point.  He lifts a shaky hand to Eito’s face, tucking his hair behind his ears.  “I think I blacked out.”

Eito gasps for air, lungs burning.  He laughs, batting Takumi’s hand away.  “That might be your most successful attempted murder on me yet.  I think I would’ve been happy to go that way.”  He crinkles his face in glee.  “That would have been extremely entertaining to see you explain to the others.”

“Freak,” Takumi says, although he sounds more surprised than upset.  He’s straddling Eito’s thighs, and Eito can feel him shaking.  “I’ve made… a huge mess of your face.”

He sits up, resting against the wall, still trying to catch his breath.  Takumi thankfully gives him some space while he recovers.  He puts a hand on his chest.

Takumi starts getting off of him.  Eito grabs his arm, cocking his head to the side.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Takumi?” he says with a smile.  He imagines he looks insane right now: face covered in Takumi’s slick, bright red flush on his cheeks, deranged grin.

“I almost suffocated you.  I’m assuming that means we’re done for tonight.”

Eito yanks him back and Takumi yelps in pain.  “Well, you know what they say about assuming.”

“Huh?” 

“You’ve… never heard that phrase before, have you?” Eito groans, pushing his sunglasses back up with that hand that isn’t currently crushing Takumi’s forearm.  “Illiterate little ogre. Nevermind.  Do you still have condoms?”

“Um… I think so.  I can’t look if you’re grabbing me like that, though, so…” Takumi says, giving a demonstrative tug of his arm.  Eito releases him and sits back, folding his hands in his lap.

Takumi stands on wobbly legs and starts digging in his nightstand drawer.

“You really should organize that better,” Eito chides.  “If you can’t find them, I can always just kill you after, of course.”

“D-don’t say weird things like that,” Takumi says, but he sounds flustered.  Eito chooses not to say anything about that, benevolent as he is.

The rummaging continues for a few more moments.

“Aha!” Takumi closes the drawer.  “Found ‘em.”

“Now, be good and put it on for me, won’t you?” 

Takumi rolls the condom down along Eito’s length slowly.  Eito wonders if he’s inspecting it to make sure there’s no rips before they even have a chance to use it.

“You listen so well like this,” Eito says.  “Who knew all I had to do was make you cum until you pass out?  I mean, I certainly never would’ve guessed you were such a degenerate.  Beneath that hideous exterior, you seemed so naive and innocent.”  He can feel Takumi’s hands trembling as he finishes his task.  “You’re done?  Good.”  Without any other prelude, Eito grabs Takumi and wrestles him to the mattress, switching places.

Eito has Takumi pinned to the mattress.  He revels in that fact for a minute, before taking his dick in hand and putting the tip inside.  Last time he’d shoved his entire length in one go, not savoring the experience.  With Takumi this… pliant, he’d be foolish not to draw this out.

He hears Takumi’s breath hitch at the intrusion.

“You feel,” Eito lets out a little gasp, unable to control himself, “ incredible .”  It’s only the second time he’s experienced this but he’s convinced it’ll never get old.  He pushes in, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated.

Takumi’s shaking returns with a vengeance.  Clearly, there hadn’t been long enough of a break.

“Aww, still overstimulated?” Eito asks, his voice dripping with faux sympathy.  “I don’t particularly care, of course.  Just curious.”

“I’m going to be overstimulated until Day 100 at this fucking point,” Takumi hisses through his teeth.  

Eito laughs, clear like a bell.  “Hands above your head.”  He hears fabric rustle as Takumi obeys without question.  With that, he’s able to easily grab both of Takumi’s wrists in one hand and hold them tight.  Don’t want Takumi to take a swing at me when he can’t take it anymore.   “Good boy,” Eito croons.  Takumi always says it to him, which he enjoys.  And he’s a good friend, so he should return the favor.  It doesn’t escape his notice that he can feel Takumi’s insides quiver at the praise.

“Don’t call me that,” Takumi snaps.  Eito immediately reaches down and grabs his throat, cutting his protests short.

“I can tell you like it, there’s no point lying to me when I’m inside you,” Eito says.  He can feel Takumi’s pulse racing under his fingertips.  He fucks Takumi slowly at first, enjoying every twitch of the shorter boy’s body, before speeding up.  Takumi occasionally wheezes out a please or a stop , which Eito ignores.  If anything, he goes harder after hearing those requests.  He wishes he could see the shade of red Takumi’s face was.

“Eito,” Takumi whines, voice strained.

“That’s my name,” Eito says cheerily and out of breath.  He’s quickly realizing how strenuous this is, and is all the more impressed by Takumi’s stamina.  “Enough of your pointless begging.”  He squeezes the sides of Takumi’s neck harder.

Takumi chokes out a moan, but no more words escape his throat.

There’s no talking for a minute or two, enough noise being made between Eito’s panting and wet skin-slapping with each thrust.  Eito lets go, and Takumi takes a sharp, desperate inhale.  And then he pulls out, a strand of Takumi’s wetness connecting them.

Takumi makes another pathetic sound, clearly upset at being empty again.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Eito demands.  The bed shifts as Takumi moves to obey sluggishly.  Eito waits until he’s stopped moving around to push back in, holding Takumi’s hips tightly.

He spares Takumi the gentle buildup and resumes at the same pace from before.

“You should touch yourself,” Eito suggests.

“Why?  That’s gonna hurt,” Takumi says.

Eito chuckles.  “Hah, maybe it will.  But the way it makes you tighten around me feels sooo good.  So I don’t particularly care if it hurts you, if it benefits me.”  When Takumi doesn’t move immediately, Eito leans down to his ear.  “I’m not going to ask again, Takumi.”

Takumi mewls and lifts a hand to his dick.  His remaining arm isn’t enough to support him against Eito’s bodyweight and he crumples, face buried into the mattress.  Almost immediately, Eito can feel him clench down on his cock.  Takumi sobs again and Eito moans, unable to stop himself.  The pained sounds coming from Takumi confirm to Eito that Takumi’s dick is still oversensitive, but he does it anyway.  Just because I told him to , Eito thinks, a smile spreading across his face.  He’s coming to realize he might just enjoy being in control.

He leans forward, forcing Takumi flat against the bed and crushing him slightly under his weight.  The new position must do something for Takumi because the sound he makes is hideously loud and Eito has half the mind to strangle him again to shut him up.  He’s able to cover Takumi’s body with his own, and he has easy access to Takumi’s neck.  He marks the soft skin there, matching the ones on his thighs.  Eito is pretty confident there’s still some scattered on Takumi’s neck from last time, but they’re too faded by now.  How else will the others know who Takumi belongs to?

Eito fucks into him desperately.  He’s been hard for so long, he’s impressed he’s kept it together this whole time.  He can tell it’s starting to catch up with him, the itchy-hot feeling of arousal starting to peak.

“Fuck, Eito, you’re making it hard to breathe,” Takumi says quietly.  “You’re deceptively heavy.”  Despite all that, he seems perfectly content where he is, not struggling against Eito at all.

“You need me to move?” Eito asks.  His voice drops the crazed, hard edge he’s had this whole time.

“N-no, I like it,” Takumi says.  It’s quick and Eito isn’t sure he heard it right.  But after a split-second of thinking, he realizes it makes perfect sense.  Takumi enjoyed Eito choking him earlier.  It would make sense, then, that being squashed under Eito’s weight is a turn-on.

“Stupid Ugly Takumi,” Eito whispers.  “You’re mine.  You belong to me .”

Takumi groans, and he once again tightens around Eito, almost impossibly hard.

Eito kisses his neck.  “Say it.”

“I- oh, fuck , I’m yours,” Takumi says, between gasping breaths.  He sounds exhausted, on the verge of tears and seconds away from passing out.

Eito feels like the room is spinning.  He’s not sure why he’s so pleased by this.  He… doesn’t really want to think about why that might be the case.  “Say it again…”  His voice comes out as barely a whine, high and needy.

Takumi wails.  “I belong to you, Eito, p-please,” he moans again, wanton, “please cum in me!”

Oh!   Well, that’s certainly something he wasn’t expecting.  Eito cums immediately, feeling his release into the condom.  He bites down onto Takumi’s neck to muffle himself.

To his shock, Eito feels Takumi cum too.  It’s way more intense than any of the other times he’s felt.  Takumi’s face is turned into the mattress, but Eito can still hear him essentially scream.  Eito keeps fucking into him, teeth still buried into Takumi’s throat, until the sensitivity catches up to him and he has to stop moving.  He collapses on top of Takumi fully, struggling to breathe.  His remaining senses are so overwhelmed, he can’t move.

“I know I said I liked you laying on top of me, but this is too far,” Takumi grumbles.  “Seriously, get off of me.”

Eito rolls over and flops onto his back.  How can Takumi talk right now?

Takumi sits up, and Eito feels him move a little bit.  “Oh good,” Takumi says.  “No condom mishaps this time.  I really didn’t want to go take another one of those pills.  Even if it gives me an excuse to make you dote on me again.”  He removes Eito’s condom and throws it away, noticing in passing how much is in there.

“Good,” Eito agrees.  He can’t move.  He’s going to die and become part of Takumi’s bed for eternity.  “Well, did you… get what you wanted out of this?”  Did I do a good job? is the part he leaves unspoken.

“Yeah,” Takumi takes a deep breath in and exhales slowly.  “I did.”  He lays back down next to Eito, taking his now-customary place with his head on Eito’s chest, throwing his arm over Eito’s stomach and intertwining their legs.  They’re both disgustingly sweaty and covered in bodily fluids.  “Nice work, Eito,” he says once he’s settled.

“ ‘Nice work’?” Eito repeats, dumbfounded.  “You’re saying this as if we just closed a difficult business transaction, not…”

Takumi huffs.  “Just take the praise, okay?”

“Trust me, I am also taking the praise,” Eito says.  He runs his fingers through Takumi’s damp hair.  “We can rest for a bit, but I’m going to need to shower.”  He sniffs.  “You should too.  You smell worse than usual.”

At that point Takumi gives up, which Eito is grateful for.  He needs some quiet time to process everything.  Takumi’s breathing finally returns to normal and for a while they breathe in sync, not moving, not talking.  It’s… peaceful, considering everything that’s just happened.  It’s nice enough Eito almost considers skipping the shower and taking a nap with Takumi like this.

Almost.

He sits up, dislodging an unhappy, sleepy Takumi, and stretches.  And then he picks Takumi up, practically throwing him over his shoulder.

“Wh- wh- what are you doing!?” Takumi yells, as Eito carries him to the bathroom.

Eito smiles.  “I said, we need to shower.  You stink .”

Chapter Text

Takumi will swear until the day he dies that this started innocently.

Eito wanted some extra practice with his Class Weapon to adjust to his blindness.  While he’d been doing great so far, he still felt uncertain.  The VR training devices weren’t particularly useful to him anymore, either, so Takumi suggested some mock fighting in the Gym to help him get better at locating an enemy’s position by sound and his other senses.

They transformed into their Class Armor, and Takumi removed the geta boots of his uniform, allowing him to pad silently across the Gym.

“Okay,” Takumi calls from where he’s crouched on the ground.  “Come get me.”

Eito barely hesitates before running directly at Takumi.  He taps him on the shoulder with the handle of his scythe.

“Are you sure this is actually helpful?” Takumi asks as he stands up.

“It is.  I need to get better at it and the battlefield isn’t exactly the best time to practice.  Please humor me,” Eito says.

Takumi wanders a random distance away, and this time he summons his Class Weapon too.  “You seem capable to me.”

“Capable isn’t the same as good, Takumi,” Eito says.  He already sounds irritated.

That didn’t take long, Takumi thinks.  Usually it’s about fifteen minutes before he gets annoyed with me these days.   “Alright.  I’m ready.”

Eito’s head turns in his general direction, and then he starts moving, his long legs carrying him quickly towards Takumi.  He’s misjudged the distance by several feet though.

Takumi sticks his leg out and trips him.  Eito stumbles to his knees with a grunt, breaking his fall with his unarmed hand.  He looks up, confused.

“Why?” he asks.

“You were off on your guess so you ran into an obstacle,” Takumi says,  watching Eito get back onto his feet,  “You know there’s always traps and barriers on the battlefield, or other invaders to trip over.”

“I think you just wanted to trip me,” Eito mumbles.

Takumi doesn’t say anything.  Once again, he moves across the Gym.  He brandishes his sword in a defensive position.  “Okay!”

There’s actual violence in the way Eito moves this time, and Takumi is glad he has his weapon at the ready.  Eito attempts to tap him with the handle of his scythe again, but Takumi parries it, knocking Eito off his balance.  He hears Eito curse as he rights himself and he swings his weapon in a wide arc.  Takumi barely dodges out of the way, and Eito’s corrected his weapon’s path to account for it, because Takumi quickly feels his chin explode in pain as the handle of the scythe uppercuts him.  His vision blurs and he staggers backward.

“Fuck,” he grunts, and as he tries to get back on even footing Eito uses the butt of the handle to shove him in the chest.  Takumi slides on the floor in his socks before falling onto his back, his Class Weapon clattering uselessly to the ground.

He can feel Eito towering over him before his vision returns to normal.

“I didn’t think we were sparring,” Eito says, bemused.  “But I’ll never turn down an opportunity to show you up, Takumi.”

Takumi scoffs.  “Show me up?” He gets up and grabs his sword again.  “Please.”

“Bold words from the guy I just knocked on his ass,” Eito says.  He leans on his scythe, a cocky grin on his face.

Takumi won’t admit it to anyone else, and especially not Eito, but Eito is extremely attractive in that moment.  If they weren’t in public he’d jump the taller boy’s bones in a heartbeat.  “Fine.  Let’s do this.”

“Yes, let’s,” Eito says, his tone mocking.  He swings his scythe in a downward arc, standing in a ready position.

They circle each other for what seems like an eternity.  Takumi makes the first move, slashing sideways with his sword after lunging forward.  Eito dodges deftly out of the way, following through with an attack that just grazes the front of Takumi’s chest.  There’s a faint sound of fabric ripping.  He grabs at his Class Armor, relieved to feel that his binder is still intact, even if there’s a long gash up the front of his uniform now, leaving his stomach exposed.

The brief distraction gives Eito an opening.  The tip of his scythe makes a small, surgically precise cut following the line of Takumi’s cheekbone.

Through the stinging pain, Takumi thinks about the time Eito had decided to try to overpower Takumi in his Class Armor for the sole sake of fucking him.  He’d traced his thumb along that same line back then, too.  Part of him wonders if it’s intentional.  Yet another mark of possessiveness, alongside all the faded love-bites Takumi’s worked very hard to keep hidden.  At least this one would be a lot easier to explain than a hickey.

Takumi watches Eito carefully as they stand on guard.  He sees a very obvious opening - Eito’s hands.  If he can get Eito to drop his scythe, it’s a matter of getting him to the ground and pinning him to win their sparring match.

Entirely unrelated, Takumi is hard.  Definitely not related , he tells himself, trying to ignore the growing uncomfortable wetness between his legs.  He lifts his blade again, and strikes, aiming for the knuckles of Eito’s right hand.

He sees the white fabric of his glove split and blood drips from the fresh wound.  Eito hisses through his teeth and his hand involuntarily opens, the spikes that had impaled his hand sliding out.  It’s too top-heavy to hold with one hand and it clatters to the ground.  

Takumi rushes him while he’s trying to pick his weapon back up and tackles him to the floor.  He straddles Eito’s waist and lifts his sword, letting the sharp edge of the blade press into the pale skin of the taller boy’s throat just enough for a few beads of blood to appear and immediately clot over.

“Got you,” Takumi pants, out of breath..  He dismisses his weapon and instead grabs Eito’s wrists, pinning them down on either side of Eito’s body.

It’s at that point he realizes he’s not the only one who got affected by their little sparring match.  He can feel Eito’s cock straining against his pants and pressing into him in a way Takumi doesn’t hate.

“Seriously?” he asks, grinding down on it.  “You got hard from this?”

Eito groans and he wriggles a little.  It’s not a dedicated effort to escape - if he really wanted to, he could be out from underneath Takumi and halfway across the Gym by now.  

“You want me to hurt you that bad, hm?” Takumi continues.  Eito’s cheeks are a vibrant shade of red and he’s biting down on his bottom lip.  Takumi rocks his hips against him, getting much-needed friction against his own aching dick.  “Still can’t believe I ever let you call me a pervert or a deviant.”

“You - mmfghh , you feel like you’re enjoying this too, Takumi,” Eito says, and he fucks up into Takumi as if to prove his point.

Takumi lets out an involuntary moan.  He can see Eito’s expression turn smug again.

So he takes advantage of the position he’s in, lets go of one of Eito’s wrists, and shoves two fingers into the cavity on Eito’s chest.

Eito’s entire body jolts as if he’s been shocked.  “Takumi!” he cries, painfully loud.  Takumi’s forced to give up control of Eito’s other wrist and slaps his hand over the taller boy’s mouth.

“Shut up,” Takumi growls.  He curls his fingers, stroking it gently.  The smoke twists around the intrusion, and he watches the little bit of Eito’s face he can see contort in pleasure.  He’s wondered since they first tried this if it was possible to cum from it.  Maybe he’ll find out now.  The idea of making Eito cum from just this, while he’s bleeding on the floor of the Gym, does something to him.

Eito doesn’t seem like he wants to give Takumi the chance.  He squeezes Takumi’s sides between his knees and rolls on top of him.

“Agh!” Takumi grunts as he’s thrown onto his back.  Eito’s triumphant grin takes up his entire field of view.  He slots their bodies together, rutting against Takumi desperately.  He kisses Takumi and realizes he can taste blood from the cut he put on Takumi’s face, acrid and coppery.

The kiss isn’t chaste, not by a long shot, mouths open and tongues pressing against each other.  There’s excess saliva coating Takumi’s chin in mere moments.  Eito is perhaps, Takumi thinks, just a little overeager.  Takumi wraps his legs around Eito’s waist, crossing his ankles behind his back.

Eito finds one of Takumi’s hands and intertwines their fingers, holding it pressed to the floor above his head.  Takumi uses his free hand to press back into Eito’s chest cavity, enjoying the way it makes the boy on top of him shudder and moan into his mouth.

When Eito’s thrusts against his clothed crotch speed up, he starts to think Eito might actually cum.  He’s getting loud again, too.  Takumi presses a third finger into the cavity.  It feels like it stretches to accommodate him, the warm tingling on his hand pleasurable in its own right.

Eito fucking screams .  Takumi feels panic set in, remembering that once again they’ve chosen to have sex in public where any loud noises - like screams - are likely to draw very unwelcome attention.  And as he has that thought, he hears the door to the Gym creak open.

He cranes his head to look, Eito burying his face into the side of Takumi’s neck and biting down.  Takumi moans in spite of himself and then he sees who’s walked into the Gym.

Hiruko.  And Sirei.

The two of them stop dead in their tracks, and Takumi shoves Eito off him and sits up.  Eito sits back on his heels, folding his hands in his lap to cover his erection.

“Hey,” Takumi says stupidly, hoping he doesn’t sound as breathless as he feels.  “We were just sparring.”

“What an interesting technique,” Hiruko sneers.  “We were nearby and heard someone scream.  Clearly, we’re interrupting something.”

“Sumino, Aotsuki, I can’t say I’m surprised by this.  Actually, who am I kidding, I am pretty surprised.  I thought you hated each other.  But you really should know better than to do this outside of your rooms,” Sirei says.  “Public indecency and all that.  Wouldn’t want the saviors of humanity on the sex offender registry.”

Takumi adjusts the collar of his Class Armor to cover the bite mark on his neck, as if Hiruko and Sirei hadn’t seen it happen.  He thinks it might be bleeding.  “We just got a little carried away, sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not!” Sirei says, waving his little baton.  “I’m glad you’re getting along but goodness gracious!”

Hiruko is shooting daggers at Takumi from her eyes.  That stare is easily one of the scariest things he’s ever seen.  “Takumi, enough out of you.  Anything to say for yourself, Eito?”

“Nope,” Eito says cheerfully.  “You’re right, you were interrupting something, and isn’t that rather rude of you?  So if you don’t mind…”

Takumi elbows him in the arm and Eito flinches.  He gets to his feet and helps Eito up after dispelling his Class Armor.  Eito follows suit, albeit reluctantly.  Probably wanted me to finger his soul more , Takumi thinks to himself.  He feels Eito’s hand, now back in his usual black glove, slip into his.  Takumi pulls away from it, and Eito lets out a pouty whine.

“We’ll be going now,” Takumi says awkwardly.  He walks as quickly as he possibly can towards his room, Eito following after him, puppylike, a few steps behind.

Once they’re in the privacy of Takumi’s room, Eito sits down on the couch with a huff.  “Why didn’t you want to hold my hand?”  He sounds genuinely offended.

Takumi takes off his jacket and hoodie.  “Because Hiruko and Sirei were right there?  Why does it matter, anyways?”

“They saw your fingers in my chest and my tongue halfway down your throat and you’re concerned about them seeing us holding hands?” Eito asks, incredulous.  He crosses his arms over his chest.  “Why are you so against people knowing about this?”

“I - I’m not against it!” Takumi says, and he immediately realizes how fake it sounds.  “Not really, I just, I don’t know how they’ll react.”

Eito takes a deep breath.  “I get it.  You’re ashamed of me.”

“Why would you even say that?” Takumi demands.  He’s starting to get a little frustrated with this line of reasoning.  

“Buggy, defective, glitched Eito can’t possibly be good enough for you,” Eito says quietly.

That stops Takumi in his tracks.  He’d thought this was one of Eito’s childish outbursts, but obviously there’s some thought and deep-seated insecurity behind it.  He sighs and sits down next to Eito on the couch, taking one of Eito’s hands and burying his face into the oversized cowl of his jacket.  It smells clean, like laundry detergent, and he can smell Eito’s shampoo intermingled with it.  It’s a combination of scents he’s started to find very comforting.  “Don’t say things like that.  That’s not true.  You’re so good, Eito, so good for me.”

He hears Eito’s breathing quicken a little at the praise.  He straddles Eito’s lap so he can look at his face.  Fuck, he’s crying , Takumi realizes, a pit of guilt settling in his stomach.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel inadequate,” he says softly.  “I’ve just been worried about how everyone else will feel about this, but I realize that’s not fair to you.  If you want them to know… I should respect your opinion.”  He brushes away the tears with the back of his hand and leans in for a gentle kiss, half-expecting Eito to push him away.

But he doesn’t, instead grabbing Takumi and pulling him into a tight embrace.  His hands wander all over Takumi’s back as he deepens the kiss.  It’s a little awkward that Takumi is half-naked while Eito is still under his fortress of layers, but he doesn’t mind.  It strikes him as sort of a reflection of their relationship anyways.

After a few minutes Eito breaks them apart, grabbing the zipper and taking off his jacket and his shirt.  At least now we’re evenly matched .  “I was getting really warm,” he mutters, setting the discarded clothes next to him on the couch.  “Now, where were we?”

Takumi pushes Eito back against the couch and kisses down his neck, tasting sweat and soap on his skin.  After a moment’s hesitation, he presses a kiss to one of Eito’s nipples.  He wasn’t sure what the reaction would be.  He wasn’t expecting it to be a shocked gasp and a full-body shiver.  He sees Eito dig his fingers into the couch.

Spurred on by the positive response, he switches to the other side, this time laving his tongue over it, feeling it stiffen under his touch.  Eito moans his name.  Takumi continues downwards, getting on his knees in front of Eito while he sits on the couch.

He never noticed that Eito has a happy trail.  The hair is light and fine, but it’s still there.  He’s not sure what else he expected, considering Eito has a neatly-maintained bush.  He mouths at Eito’s cock over the fabric of his trousers.

“Takumi, what are you doing?” Eito asks, his voice breathy.  He takes a gloved hand and rakes his fingers through Takumi’s hair.

Takumi grins, not that Eito can see it.  “I’m getting you worked up again.  It’s still so easy.  And then I’m going to suck your dick.”

“You don’t have to do all this kissing, though.  You’re getting your nasty saliva all over me…”

“Then why are you hard?” Takumi says, palming his cock.  Eito groans and turns his head away, suddenly bashful.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”  He pulls down the zipper, painstakingly slow.  He frees Eito’s dick, hard and dripping pre-cum from the tip.  It’s the second time Takumi’s tried this and he still feels anxious.  Granted, it’s not like Eito has any other basis for comparison.  He’s just as inexperienced as Takumi.  That thought provides him some comfort as he leans in, taking the head into his mouth.  He sucks gently, teasing the tip with his tongue.

Eito makes a strangled noise.  To his credit, this time he manages to sit still as Takumi gradually takes him in, covering the rest with his hand.

Takumi takes a deep breath in through his nose.  He starts bobbing his head, moving at a slow pace as he acclimates.  The head of Eito’s cock nudges against the back of his throat with each move forward, making him gag slightly, but he allows the excess saliva to drip out of his mouth and down his chin.  The mess provides some lubrication for his hand, which he works rhythmically along Eito’s shaft as he sucks.  His other hand finds a use lazily rolling and gently squeezing his balls.  He can see Eito’s abs clench with the effort of not moving.

“ Fffuck , Takumi,” Eito moans.  “S - so good…”  One hand that had been clutching the couch for dear life curls into a fist and Eito buries his teeth into it, muffling himself as Takumi picks up speed.

Takumi pulls off, and a thin strand of saliva connects his mouth to Eito’s dick.  He keeps pumping his hand as he speaks.  “Take your hand out of your mouth.  I want to hear you.”

“I don’t trust myself not to be loud,” Eito says, sounding embarrassed.

“I don’t care,” Takumi says.  “I like the noises you make too much.  Besides, the jig’s kinda up already after Hiruko and Sirei saw us.  You can put your hand in my hair or something.”

Eito tentatively takes a handful of his hair and curls his fingers into it.  He pulls Takumi forward , back to his dick.  Takumi licks at the underside of the head a few times, watching Eito squirm, and then takes it back into his mouth.

The sounds are nothing short of obscene, wetness interspersed with gags when Eito unintentionally thrusts his hips and forces his length further down Takumi’s throat.  Takumi takes it in stride, though.

“I wish I could see you right now,” Eito says suddenly.  “I bet your face is even more of a horrific mess than usual.”

In spite of himself, Takumi moans a little.  He feels his face turn red.

“Hah, very interesting, Takumi,” Eito says, and although he sounds wrecked there’s a very clear triumphant note to his voice.  “Did me insulting you really just make you moan?  Loathsome little thing , aren’t you?”

This time, Takumi restrains himself.  He doesn’t have the presence of mind right now to consider why Eito dehumanizing him like that makes his dick throb.  That’s baggage he can unpack later.  He moves the hand that had been playing with Eito’s balls down and shoves it under his sweats, rubbing himself.  He’s soaked and it adds another layer of wet noises to the room.

“I - I’m close,” Eito whines.  He’s given up on trying to stay still, writhing frantically as he tries to pull out of Takumi’s mouth.  As wonderful as it feels, as soft and warm and wet, he thinks that if he cums in his mouth he’ll be too grossed out to kiss Takumi again.

The first bit of salty, bitter release hits the back of Takumi’s throat and Takumi pulls away, his hand wringing Eito’s cock through the orgasm as he covers Takumi’s face in spend.  Eito moans so loudly Takumi regrets telling him not to muffle himself.  Takumi’s grateful he closed his eyes, feeling some of it spatter against his eyelids.  More and more drips onto his face and the warmth of it makes Takumi feel truly degenerate.

His chest feels warm, too.  His whole body feels warm in a way that feels familiar and then his blood runs cold with realization.

“Shion?  Is that you?” he says quietly, hoping more than he ever has in his life that he’s wrong.  He wipes his eyelids with his arm and opens his eyes.

Sure enough, Shion’s ghostly Undying Flame apparition is standing there.  And he’s blushing, averting his gaze to the side of the room.

“Shion!?” Eito shouts.  He yanks his pants back up to cover himself.

“I’m sorry,” Shion says.  He’s still not meeting Takumi’s eyes.  “I didn’t want to interrupt…”

Takumi sputters a few indignant nonsense syllables.  “You’re still interrupting!  You’re interrupting right now!  How long have you been w- actually, never mind, I really don’t want to know.”

“Sorry,” Shion repeats.  “I’m really sorry, Takumi.  A- and Eito too.”

“Was it anything urgent?” Takumi asks.

Shion shakes his head quickly.  “No, no, it can wait.  Why don’t you just come to the Library whenever you’re… done.”

“Will do,” Takumi says.

“Please leave,” Eito adds.  Takumi pinches his leg.  “Ouch!”

Shion vanishes in a burst of pink flame.

Takumi can’t decide if he wants to laugh or cry.  “Twice, in one day?  Are you serious?”

Eito’s chest is still heaving, his body twitching with aftershocks.  “Guess our secret is well and truly out at this point.  Hiruko can keep her mouth shut, but Sirei and Shion don’t seem like the types to keep this to themselves.”

Takumi gets to his feet and stumbles into the bathroom.  He looks, well, exactly as messy as he thought he did.  He quickly washes his face and returns to Eito, who hasn’t moved an inch from when he left him.  His mouth is hanging open slightly.

“Doing good?” Takumi asks, shucking off his pants and boxers.

“Mhmmm,” Eito hums.

Takumi digs in his drawer and finds his harness.  He also finds his newest acquisition from the Secret Catalogue.  Something that was labeled as a ‘strapless strap-on’.  It looks more realistic than the other strap he first made, and it has a bit that goes inside him to provide stimulation.  It also has a textured part that is supposed to rub against his t-dick.  He hasn’t gotten a chance to try it out yet, especially not with Eito.  Theoretically he doesn’t need a harness for it, but he’s not confident enough in the strength of his pelvic muscles to try without it for now.  He looks over at Eito’s spent, limp body.  He still hadn’t moved at all.

Buggy, defective, glitched Eito can’t possibly be good enough for you .

His heart hurts when he remembers the pain in Eito’s voice when he said that.  He walks back over, carefully straddling Eito’s lap again.

“Takumi?” Eito slurs.  He furrows his eyebrows.

“Just sit still for me, okay?” Takumi says.  He rests his hands on Eito’s shoulders, lightly, like he’s afraid to touch him.  Eito doesn’t move, and Takumi presses a kiss to his forehead.  “Good boy, Eito.”

Eito makes a weak, happy noise.  Takumi takes off his sunglasses and sets them safely aside.

“I don’t want you to think you’re not good enough for me,” Takumi says.  His throat feels dry.  “I know I’ve made you feel that way in the past.  And I’m sorry.  Let me show you you’re not inadequate.”

For once in his life, Eito has nothing to say.  He wets his lips but otherwise is still as a statue.

Takumi kisses each closed eyelid in turn.  Eito shivers.

“I’ll never understand how you did this,” Takumi whispers.  “I’m so sorry that you felt it was the only option.  It’s not fair that you’ve had to deal with this your whole life.  Your strength impresses me, in a lot of ways.”

Eito swallows, his head starting to go fuzzy.  He’s not sure what Takumi’s getting at, what sort of angle he’s playing, with all this.  It’s not a complaint.  The praise is doing something to him.  His thoughts are cloudy and all he can focus on is Takumi’s gentle voice.

He feels Takumi’s hands wander down to his biceps, squeezing his leanly-muscled arms.  Eito thinks he should be repulsed by being groped like this, but he can’t bring himself to care.  “The fact that you’re so ripped still kind of upsets me.  It makes sense, though.  You swing that giant, stupid scythe so easily.”  He takes one of Eito’s hands, the one he’d cut earlier, and lifts it to his lips.  It’s already mostly healed, dried blood crusted around the wound.  “Sorry about this, by the way.”

Takumi looks at his hand.  “Your fingers are so long and delicate too.”  He puts the index and middle finger in his mouth and sucks softly, licking between them.  Eito wrinkles his nose in disgust, but doesn’t say anything, letting Takumi have his fun before allowing his hand to fall back to the couch.  He rests his hands on Eito’s chest, feeling his heartbeat.  It’s a steady ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, thrumming under his fingertips.  It’s going pretty fast for how relaxed Eito seems.

“Hah, your chest is so strong too,” Takumi says.  “I like when we cuddle, or when I sit with my back to you, and it’s solid against me.”

“Stop,” Eito says weakly, “that’s so… gross…”

“It’s not gross.  It’s genuine,” Takumi insists.  He leans in and kisses Eito again, properly, feeling him open his mouth and allow Takumi in.  His hand traces upwards, cupping Eito’s jawline.  Eito’s neck is still entirely untouched, the pale skin pristine.  That won’t do… 

He sucks marks into the side of Eito’s neck, high enough above where the collar of his jacket would rest.  There’d be no hiding that come tomorrow.

“Takumi,” Eito chides.  “How infantile…”

“You leave hickeys all over me!  You chew on me like a dog!”  He gets up and puts on his harness.  The internal part of the strap-on slides into him easily with how wet he is, and he feeds the external part through the o-ring.  It rubs against his t-dick perfectly as he adjusts it.

“Can you get on your knees for me?”  Takumi asks.  Eito stands, removing his pants, and dropping to his knees.  He tilts his head up at Takumi expectantly.  “I sucked your dick, so I expect you to return the favor.”

Eito opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue a bit.  Drool drips from the tip after a moment of waiting.

Takumi slaps the strap-on on Eito’s tongue.  Eito flinches, confusion crossing his face.

“You’re making me suck the strap-on?  Is this some elaborate humiliation ritual?  You can’t really feel it, can you?”

“This is a different one than the other times,” Takumi says.  “It kinda lets me feel it.”  And I mean, of course, there’s a humiliation aspect.  

“Hm,” Eito hums.  He lets his jaw fall slack, and Takumi guides the strap - his cock - into his mouth.  Eito’s face screws up at the taste of bitter silicone, but clearly it’s not as repulsive as Takumi’s natural taste to him, because he doesn’t complain.  Takumi inches it forward, waiting to see how far Eito can take it before he starts gagging.

He gets about halfway before Eito gags, spit spilling past his lips.  Takumi doesn’t press any further, but he doesn’t pull out either, letting Eito’s throat spasm around him until it subsides.

“Breathe through your nose,” Takumi says.  “You’re doing good.”

Eito takes a shaking inhale, and as he does so Takumi pushes in further, feeling his cock bump against the back of Eito’s throat.  He splutters around it, clenching his fists on his thigh.  To Takumi’s surprise, he makes no move to pull off, sitting still and simply willing his throat to relax around the intrusion.  Eito breathes out.

“Good boy, that’s all of it,” Takumi says and he pets Eito’s hair.  Tears are leaking from Eito’s closed eyes again.  Takumi rocks his hips slightly, only moving an inch or two, and even the little movement feels incredible .  He hadn’t expected this to work so well.  I… might actually be able to come from this.   He feels a little dizzy at the thought.  When Eito doesn’t gag that much, he takes that as a cue that he can fuck into his mouth in earnest.  He fists a hand in Eito’s hair, using his mouth.

“I guess it makes sense you’re good at suppressing your gag reflex,” Takumi laughs.  “Just means you’re perfect for this.”  

Eito makes a little noise, and Takumi can feel the vibrations on his dick.  He moans.  “Fuck, Eito…”

At some point Eito retches and Takumi fully pulls out, afraid Eito’s going to vomit.  The boy on the floor coughs and an impressive amount of saliva cascades down his chin and onto his lap.  He’s breathing frantically.  Takumi can’t immediately tell if the redness of his cheeks is from lack of oxygen or if Eito’s really enjoying himself that much.  After Eito catches his breath, he leans forward and takes Takumi’s cock back into his mouth without any other prompting.

“Oh!” Takumi gasps.  “Oh my god, Eito, fuck, that feels so good .”  He knows it doesn’t feel the same as an actual blowjob on a natal penis would, but the mental image of his cock in Eito’s mouth is powerful enough that he really does not care.

Eito is clearly mimicking what Takumi did to him earlier, in a way that he finds rather endearing.  He supposes it’s really the only frame of reference Eito has.  Eito is going more aggressively with it though, deepthroating him hard and fast.  It’s impressive.  And it’s getting him embarrassingly close very quickly.

He forces himself to pull out and take a break.  Eito whines a little, and Takumi reaches down, tilting his chin up with a finger and inspecting his face.  Eito’s cheeks and chin are wet with tears and saliva, respectively.  There’s a pink glow to his face and the tips of his ears.  His closed eyelids, hiding empty eye sockets, are framed by his ungodly long eyelashes.

“You’re so handsome,” Takumi says absently.  “In general, but especially like this.”

Eito whimpers, shifting his weight where he’s kneeling on the floor.  He’s not hard again, that will probably take awhile, but he once again hearing Takumi praise him scratches in itch in his head.

“I always thought so,” Takumi whispers, petting Eito’s hair.  “Even back then…”  He shakes his head to clear out the memories of that original Eito, before he knew .  He tries not to compare the two, he really does.  The Eito from his first hundred days and the Eito from now were effectively different people.  But sometimes this Eito does something that reminds Takumi painfully of his first Eito and he can’t help but notice all the ways they’re similar, too.

The original Eito would never kneel in front of him like this, he knows that much.

Would never allow Takumi to tap the tip of his cock against his cheek and instinctively turn to take it into his mouth without needing to be told.

Takumi moans and grabs onto Eito, holding him just above his ears.  “Lemme use your mouth.”

There’s no objection.  Takumi fucks into his throat, chasing his own orgasm.  He feels separate from his body somehow, and he can hear his noises getting higher-pitched as he gets closer.  Eito has mostly stopped gagging at this point.

“You were, ah , made for this, weren’t you?” Takumi says.  “So good at sucking m- my cock…”

Eito whines again, sounding pleased with himself.

Takumi looks down at his face one more time.  There’s something obscene about how innocent Eito looks like this, with his timid, gentle blush and closed eyes, lips stretched around Takumi’s dick.  Takumi can’t hold it back anymore, looking at this sight.  He cums, and the contractions of his pelvic muscles make the strap twitch and throb rhythmically in Eito’s mouth.  “Fuck…”

He pulls out, a web of saliva keeping them connected.  Eito coughs again.

“So you can feel things with that?” Eito asks.  He sounds thoughtful, even if his voice is hoarse.

“Mhm,” Takumi says, pulling the internal part of the strap-on out.

Eito sits back on his heels.  “You should fuck me with it, then.”

Takumi gives him a look, fully aware Eito can’t see it.  Eito’s face is turned towards the floor.

“And you have too much energy,” Takumi says.  He struggles for a second to get the external part of the strap out of the harness.  He sets it on the nightstand and flops on his bed.

Eito stands up and crawls over top of him.  “I’m serious, Takumi.”  He kisses him gently.  Takumi can tell just from that that Eito is exhausted, despite what he says.  There’s no hunger behind it like there was earlier, just a sort of routine motion, like tying his shoes.  He pulls back a little so he can speak.  “Please?  I’ll go use your shower to clean up while you recover a bit.”

Takumi wonders what sort of ulterior motive Eito might have for this request.  There’s gotta be something else there that he can’t put together.  He knows he’s playing directly into Eito’s hands by agreeing, but he honestly can’t be bothered at this point.  “Sure.  Go shower.”

Without any further talking, Eito gets up and stumbles his way into Takumi’s bathroom.  Takumi stays flat on his back, hearing the water running.  At least fifteen minutes pass, he thinks, before he hears the water turn off and the bathroom door creak open.  He sits up and grabs the strap-on, sliding it back into himself.  The ribbed part that rubs against his t-dick still hurts a bit but it’s tolerable.  Eito climbs back on top of him, straddling his hips.

“You want me to get you ready?” Takumi asks.  “Can’t do that if you’re on top of me.”  He picks up the bottle of lubricant and waits for Eito’s answer, or for him to move.

Instead, Eito shakes his head.  He sticks out his hand and Takumi presses the bottle into it.

Eito opens it and pours some into his head, reaching his hand back around.  Takumi can’t exactly see what he’s doing, but Eito chokes out a moan and Takumi thinks he can safely assume Eito’s penetrated himself with a finger.  A slick hand wraps itself around his cock and Takumi can feel it as Eito works it over, slathering lube over it.  And then Eito slowly guides the strap into himself.

Takumi can’t feel everything, of course.  It’s not a perfect solution to his dysphoria.  But when Eito moves, the strap moves against his cock too, in a way that even if he wasn’t watching, he would know exactly what Eito was doing.  Eito grabs Takumi’s shoulders as he takes the strap all the way down, until he’s sitting flush with Takumi’s thighs.

“You barely stretched,” Takumi notes as he listens to Eito’s heavy breathing.  There’s a hint of a pained expression on the boy’s face.  “You sure about this?”

“Of course I’m sure, idiot,” Eito says.  “I just need a moment.”

That’s my cue to shut up, Takumi thinks, snapping his jaw shut.  Eito raises and lowers himself a few times, getting the hang of the position and the angle.  He hasn’t gotten a chance to ride Takumi like this before, except for that first time, and he wasn’t nearly as confident then as he is now.  It does hurt a little.  Takumi seems to pick up on it, and Eito hears the bottle open and snap shut and feels cold lube get rubbed against his hole and where the strap penetrates him.  That helps, and after leaning down to give Takumi another kiss, he starts fucking himself onto Takumi’s cock.

“This is bigger than the other one, isn’t it?” Eito asks.  “ Ah , your dick is so big…”

Takumi thinks he might’ve figured out Eito’s motivation for this.  Some kind of gender-affirming sex thing.  Thoughtful, but weird in a very Eito-typical way.   He clenches down on the internal part of the strap and he can feel it twitch inside of Eito.

Eito makes a little ‘ooo’ noise at that, apparently feeling it too.  Takumi tries thrusting up but Eito pushes down on his shoulders.

“No,” Eito says.  The edge to his voice that Takumi heard the other day is back, making Takumi feel like he’s been shocked by a live wire.  “You’re going to stay still, Ugly Takumi.”

Okay.  Maybe I didn’t know what he was going for after all.  I guess that’s what I get for pretending I understand Eito, even after all this time…

“A good listener when it comes to sex, and just about nothing else,” Eito sneers.  “How human of you.”

“I am human.  Well.  Not really, I guess none of us are except Nozomi but - “

Eito slaps him.  It’s so unexpected that Takumi doesn’t have the presence of mind to stop himself from keening in pleasure.  The cocky look on Eito’s face returns, the same one from the Gym earlier.  Takumi feels heat pool in his stomach.

“I can feel you throb inside me with this,” Eito says.  “So I can tell you liked that, you freak.  I could’ve guessed.  Your martyr complex lends itself to an enjoyment of pain.”

“Dude,” is all Takumi can manage to say, and it comes out whiny in a way that makes him hate himself.

“Ah, I love when your way with words is taken from you,” Eito sighs.  He bounces himself on Takumi’s dick.  The look on his face is focused, determined.  “It makes me happy when you’re finally fucking speechless .”

Every time Eito swears, it does something to Takumi.  Maybe the loss of composure and the knowledge that he’s the only one in this timeline who gets to see Eito like this is what makes him feel this way.

He’s not hard again , Takumi notices through the thick haze over his mind.  It makes sense when he thinks about it, but he still finds the fact interesting.  And Eito doesn’t need to be hard to enjoy himself, biologically speaking, and judging from the noises and Eito’s face, the prostate stimulation is more than enough from him.  Takumi can see thin, clear, sticky strands dripping from Eito’s dick onto his stomach.  “You’re leaking,” he says, and as he opens his mouth to mock Eito for this further, he sees Eito bring his hand up and Takumi is slapped again.

He cries out both in pain and pleasure.  A wicked smile plays across Eito’s lips.

“I said I like it when you don’t talk, and yet you do it anyways?” Eito says.  “It’s like you wanted to get hit.  Funny, I think you said something similar to me earlier in the Gym, didn’t you?”

Takumi swallows thickly.  He’s mad Eito can be this eloquent with a dick in his ass.  Eito slams down on him particularly hard, which drags a groan out of him as it jostles the strap against his t-dick and against that sensitive part of him inside.

Eito is effectively using him as a toy right now.  Takumi wants to thrust up again, to regain some control over the situation, but he knows that would go poorly.  He resigns himself to his fate, taking some solace in the fact that whether he knew it or not, Eito was putting on quite the show for him.  His eyes are drawn to the new marks he’d left on the side of Eito’s neck, where they’re turning a lovely shade of angry red-purple.  Eito wouldn’t be able to hide those under his clothes.  He’d get what he wanted: everyone would know that they were hooking up.  That they were… dating?  Boyfriends?  He isn’t sure.  They haven’t had that conversation.  And now certainly isn’t the time either.

“You make me feel so good, Takumi,” Eito says.  He splays one of his hands on top of Takumi’s chest, feeling the coarse fabric of his binder under his fingertips.  “In more ways than just… this, of course.”  His movements are starting to get more erratic and frantic.  “You’re getting close too, aren’t you?  You’re twitching more often inside of me.”

Takumi hadn’t considered Eito would be able to know that with the new strap-on.  There’s no way this information would be used to Takumi’s own benefit.  Honestly, Takumi hadn’t even really realized it himself, his mind had been entirely elsewhere for the last few minutes.  But now that Eito’s calling attention to it and he focuses on his body again, there’s no mistaking the feeling of impending orgasm.  

“Yeah,” Takumi says, hoping that’s little enough talking to keep Eito happy and not slapping his face again.

Eito chooses that moment to say something absolutely out of character and unhinged, leaning down to Takumi’s face.  It almost makes him question if he’s dreamt this whole thing for the short moment he has to process it.

“Use me, Takumi.  Cum in me.”

Takumi takes that as permission to fuck up into Eito, grabbing onto Eito’s hips and holding him tight.

Eito moans, his breath warm against Takumi’s face.  “Please, please, cum in me.  I need-”

“Eito!” Takumi shouts, interrupting him, and with a final thrust up he cums.  Eito says something he doesn’t understand and Takumi feels something hot spill onto his stomach.  At the same time he knows his cock is throbbing in Eito’s hole, he can also feel Eito clench down on him via the strap-on.  It’s an intense sensation, entirely foreign to him, and it makes him wonder why he didn’t just make this one first.  He gulps down air and looks at Eito, who is faring about the same as he is - his head is lolled to one side with his mouth hanging open.  Takumi’s stomach is covered in an almost impressive amount of white.

The boy on top of him makes a self-satisfied little humming sound.  “This was fun.”  He starts dismounting Takumi.  “Shower?”

“You came all over me, so, yes?” Takumi says.  He removes the strap and his harness, sitting up slowly.  He’s lightheaded and his knees knock together when he stands to go into the bathroom.  Some of Eito’s mess ends up on the floor, which he throws a spare towel over so Eito doesn’t slip on it.  As funny as that would be.

They get into the shower together, and silently clean up.

“...Eito?” Takumi asks, raising his voice over the running water.  He looks at Eito, whose whole body is flushed from the hot water and how hard he’s scrubbing his skin.

“Yes?” Eito responds, not turning to face him, staying focused on his cleaning.

Takumi watches him for another few moments, admiring all the sharp planes of his body.

“Spit it out, Ugly Takumi,” Eito says, his tone playful.

“I love you,” Takumi blurts before he can stop himself.

Eito freezes.  Takumi briefly thinks he’s made a horrible mistake, but he sees Eito’s lips move in a response that he can’t hear.  But he can tell what Eito said as easily as if it’d been written down.

Love you too .

—-----------------

Eito spends the night in Takumi’s room.  They walk to the Cafeteria together the next morning, hand in hand.  Takumi’s entire body feels electrified with anxiety.

There’s only two people in the Cafeteria.  Well, one person, and a robot.

Hiruko glares at them when they enter, but then her eyes drop to their intertwined fingers.  Her expression softens, the corners of her lips curling upwards ever so slightly.

Sirei doesn’t look as pleased.  He crosses his nubby arms together.  “Sumino, Aotsuki, I can’t say I’m happy with this development.  It’s one thing to relieve a little battlefield stress with a comrade but… this is far beyond that.”

“Sirei, can’t you just be happy for these young men?” Hiruko chides.

“Those are bold words from someone I was half expecting to chop my dick off yesterday,” Takumi mutters.  Eito squeezes his hand as if to say hey, stop talking .

But Takumi looks over at Eito and he’s beaming ear-to-ear, standing a little straighter.  Takumi tightens his hand around Eito’s in return and looks up at him.

Eito glances down like he could tell Takumi was staring at him.  He gives him one of his gentle smiles - the ones that always remind Takumi of his best friend in the first hundred days, and of his boyfriend now - and mouths thank you .