Chapter Text
Eito loves Takumi.
This, he knows to be true.
He had initially thought he could never fall in love with a filthy, disgusting monster. He had then thought someone would never settle for a defect such as him. Takumi defied all odds it seemed. They were happy together, in their weird little unconventional partnership.
It's still too much to admit out loud, but he knows there is no other name for the feeling in his chest. He can’t imagine life without Takumi anymore, as sickeningly clingy as it sounds. Eito finds him to be one of the few decent monsters. He supposes their ugly friends are alright, too.
Eito would be lying if he said he didn’t still find Takumi to be… Unsightly, to put it mildly.
He had foolishly hoped his condition would improve over time. He’d never shared his space so closely with another before. Perhaps one day Takumi would stop smelling of rotting flesh, looking of a molded, pussing, corpse, with all his tendrils, eyes, and sharp teeth. Perhaps he would grow used to Takumi and he wouldn’t look quite so repulsive, and his disorder would just be a mere inconvenience.
He stays hoping, unfortunately.
He’s definitely learned to tolerate it better. The smell of Takumi doesn’t bother him nearly as much as other monsters. Same with his unfortunate appearance. They share a bed, on most days. He’s not really frightened or truly disgusted by Takumi, on most days.
Eito loves Takumi, he’s just… well, ugly. And smelly. His oozing, cracked skin. His unfortunate amount of eyeballs. His grating, shrieking voice. It’s still a lot to him. He doubts it’ll ever improve at this point.
The thought saddens him.
Takumi burns to touch him, to be affectionate. He tries to be subtle about it, but Takumi has never particularly excelled at subtle. Eito wants his affection, likes it. He wants to like it. He’s not sure what to do with it.
They’ve been doing this… arrangement for almost five months now, since that fateful day Takumi admitted he wanted something more. Thus, came along their partnership, relationship. Eito’s not really sure what it is. As time passes he becomes more and more uncomfortably aware of how little things have changed between them after all. He’s sure Takumi didn’t anticipate more being sharing a bed, hugging with layers between them, and the list ending there.
They’re winding down for the night, Eito’s nose is buried in a novel. Takumi is dozing off, spooned against him, with a blanket between them. He’s letting out cute, light, snores. Eito reaches up to stroke his fiery, pus-sodden, hair. With a glove on. Takumi stirs, squeezing him a little tighter, and nuzzling against his blanketed and clothed shoulder. He feels Takumi shift his hips and he feels something stiff poke against his covered thigh. Oh….
Takumi shifts a bit more to get more comfortable, unconsciously trying to find the best configuration to cover the most of Eito with his arms from this position. He feels Takumi’s erection rub against him some more. Something strange swirls in his stomach.
“Your phallus is poking me.” Takumi sleepily blinks.
“H-huh?” He yawns, “O-oh… Oh! Sorry, I’m sorry. I-I can go take care of it.” Takumi shoots up and darts to the bathroom before Eito can get another word in. He can see his erection straining against his underwear. Eito stares at the bathroom door, that feeling still mixing in his stomach. He can’t tell if it's discomfort, shame, guilt, embarrassment or a mix or none of that at all. He finds himself missing the warmth radiating from Takumi.
Something has to change, Eito resolves.
It’s not fair for Takumi to put his wants aside to settle for his defect. He knows what Takumi wants. For all of Eito’s reservations about Takumi, he knows the other man is painfully attracted to him. Handsome, pretty, beautiful, Takumi has said it all, while Eito has steadily refrained from spewing lies about Takumi’s appearance. This is far from the first time Takumi has popped a random boner. They’ve had this unspoken rule of either ignoring it or Takumi hiding away.
It’s ridiculous. He will touch Takumi. He’ll be a good boyfriend and give him what he wants. He wants to do it. The least he can do is try.
Takumi emerges from the bathroom minutes later, boner gone. He settles back in next to Eito as though nothing happened, “Ready to turn in for the night?”
Eito studies his face. His sickening features. His wet skin. Just do it. It’s easy. It’s so easy. He has to start somewhere.
Instead of answering Takumi, he closes his eyes and leans in and gives him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. It lasts only a second but he can feel the oily, bumpy, fleshy texture under his lips. He can feel Takumi’s maw part in surprise before he pulls away. He resists the urge to gag and wipe his mouth. Takumi feels every bit as slimy as he looks. His heart is hammering in his chest as he looks at Takumi.
He has a light blush dusting his cheeks, and his mouth is slightly agape. Is it really so surprising? That feeling from before returns.
“W-what was that for?” Takumi finally speaks, scratching his cheek.
“I just felt like it. Did I do something wrong?” He asks innocently, even though he can see the subtle smile playing on Takumi’s lips saying he most definitely did something right.
“No! Y-you can do it again. If you want.” He doesn’t really want to, but Takumi’s face is stretched into a happy smile. He can practically feel the excitement rolling off him like a dog. His face is still pink. Eito feels his own cheeks warming up.
Suddenly, he doesn’t care how gross Takumi looks. This is definitely worth it.
Eito presses another kiss, fully on his lips this time. It’s as nasty as before, but feeling Takumi smile underneath his lips makes it a little less repulsive. Takumi seems eager to deepen it but Eito pulls away, leaving it as a peck.
“Don’t push your luck.” He sees Takumi deflate a little, but he still looks so happy. He wraps an arm around Eito and squeezes. He leans in and kisses Eito’s cheek. He represses a shudder.
“Is this okay?”
“It’s tolerable.”
That’s good enough for Takumi. He presses another kiss to Eito and nuzzles his face into his neck. Eito does shudder this time and Takumi apologetically pulls away.
“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, his eyes clouded. Want to touch me? Frustrated you can’t? Desperate to have me reciprocate? Takumi steals one last kiss instead of finishing.
“You have nice skin. It’s soft.” Takumi’s looking at him with that soft look. Like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. A smile playing at his lips, his eyes crinkling with happiness. It’s one of the few emotions that make Takumi look beautiful.
“You’re too nice, Takumi.”
“I’m just telling the truth.” Takumi squeezes him again.
“I think it’s about time for bed.” Eito carefully places a bookmark into the novel forgotten on his lap and places it on their nightstand. He shuts off the light.
He feels Takumi curl into his respective blanket. It took a day of sharing a bed for them to realize they should have their own blankets. Not only to have a barrier between them, but also because Takumi is a shamelessly greedy blanket hog. Even now he can physically feel Takumi cocooning himself and taking up every damn inch of that blanket.
“Good night, Eito.” He yawns sleepily.
“Sleep well, Takumi.”
—--------------
“And you're absolutely sure I can’t come with?”
“Yeah… I’m really sorry, Eito.” Takumi apologetically looks at the floor, “I asked Kamyuhn again and she said the less people that come along the better. We want to make a good impression, and that includes not looking like a platoon when we visit.”
Their whole ‘compromise both sides and end the war’ plan was still in its infancy. The first course of action being to get as many Futurans on the same wavelength as possible, finding who's willing to compromise. This included going out and meeting a fairly large Futuran faction who was already on the cusp of joining the Rebellion. Kamyuhn is a big help obviously, and insisted they come with as little numbers as possible as a sign of peace. It made Eito uneasy.
“If you insist. Come back in one piece, please.”
“Tsubasa actually made something for us all to stay in touch, we’ll probably have a lot of times where we have to be apart in the future.” Takumi holds out what looks like a smartphone to him.
“All they can do is text and call each other. You can send photos, too. Apparently they can transmit pretty powerful signals that allow them to connect to each other even super far away.” Eito takes it from Takumi’s hand, turning it over in his fingers.
“I see. That’s quite useful.”
“I’ll make sure to keep in touch while I’m gone. It shouldn’t be more than a week or two.” Takumi stands on his toes to give Eito a peck on the cheek.
“Stay safe, Takumi.”
“You too.”
He watches Takumi depart, Kamyuhn in tow and Tsubasa driving. The scene is becoming more common as time passes and they immerse themselves deeper into this mess. They’ve been handling most things together up to this point, he’s something of an advisor he supposes. Diplomacy is all Takumi thus far. He doesn’t really know what to do with himself in the meantime.
—---------
Eito likes this device, he decides. It really has put him mostly at ease about Takumi’s whereabouts. Plus, it provides him the joy of talking to Takumi without the hindrance of Takumi’s physical form.
How are things going?
boring, for the most part. just trying to negotiate and convince them we’re worth the investment. they seem pretty unwilling to budge so far
Fools. We’re trying to help them.
i know, but i can see where theyre coming from. id probably be pretty skeptical if a teenager and a 12 year old showed up and claimed they were going to fix a generational conflict
What’s worse is I’m sure the 12 year old is more persuasive than you.
hey! these are her people. of course theyre gonna believe her more than me
Eito can’t help the smile on his face. Silly Takumi. He sees those three dots pop up again on Takumi’s end.
i miss you
Getting lonely already, I see. It’s only been a week
says the one who always responds immediately.
His heart feels full when they can talk like this. It feels freeing.
I really do miss you. I can’t wait to come back.
I feel the same.
He’s been scheming in Takumi’s absence. Trying to work out the logistics of actually doing it with Takumi. Kissing is manageable, he’s learned, as long as Takumi keeps his little slimy probing appendage to himself.
He brought this endeavor on himself, but he lets himself worry over hypotheticals nonetheless. He shudders at the thought of not being able to get hard, not being able to come, not being able to get Takumi hard, throwing up on Takumi during it. He wants to be able to show his appreciation for Takumi. They’ve been going steady for months now with nothing to show for it. It gnaws at him. His phone buzzes again.
I really hope we get somewhere soon. these meetings suck. nobody wants to listen
He feels the frustration seeping through the pixels on the screen. The guilt squirms and unsettles his stomach. They’ve hardly begun and he can see how this all weighs on Takumi. The darkness under his eyes, the late nights, the constant planning with Kamyuhn, the travelling, the meetings. He’s his advisor, he’s sat in on countless meetings and taken part in most plans, but that’s far easier. Takumi carries the weight of the world and more on his shoulders.
He hears him mutter in his sleep. Calling out Nozomi’s name.
They’re already making arrangements to move their home base from Last Defense Academy to the heart of the Rebellion soon. It just makes sense, they’re basically in charge now. They need to make a real army, to fight a real war.
It still doesn’t feel real. It's strange, transitioning from toy soldiers fighting for a lie to an independent army.
He knows the Artificial Satellite must be upset. Upset that their plan to raze Futurum failed, that their soldiers turned on them. They’ve been quiet thus far but when he gazes up at the false moon, he knows something sinister awaits. They’re trying as hard as possible to organize before hell breaks loose. They’ve tried to reach the Satellite but they never get a response. It’s a silent bomb waiting to explode.
They’ll have to change eventually. There’s no other way.
He wants Takumi to be able to take solace in him. To be the one source of comfort between the threads in the spool of chaos they’ve decided to unravel. He’ll dedicate his whole self to him. Ease his tired body and melt away his stress. He wants to show Takumi how much he means to him. It burns and simmers inside of him without any outlet to express it. He sees the way Takumi looks at him, his lingering touches and insistent pecks. He wants to give back.
He doesn’t know if he can.
Eito browses the Gift-o-Matic for ideas, for desensitization, for an unachievable solution. Its selection is surprisingly perverse despite the insistence of Sirei that they should’ve been keeping their clothes on. He’s not sure what he’s looking for. A vibrator, restraints, a ball-gag, a collar. He keeps scrolling, lost in thought.
His eyes settle on something. A pair of small, black, lacy undergarments. He can see it’s meant for women but he can tweak the measurements and design. The thought is appealing. He feels his phone buzz again. They don’t leave much to the imagination.
An idea pops into his head. Maybe he can alleviate Takumi’s stress now. In a way he can’t do while he’s physically here. In a way where his irritating defect won’t get in the way.
—-----------------
The feeling is foreign, but not unpleasant. He can feel the fabric stretching and pressing against his cock. The lacy waistband rests on his toned sides.
He spent more time editing the design than he would like to admit. Black lace swapped for pristine, white fabric. His cock lies obscured behind the fabric while ornate, lacey patterns extend from the center, sheltering his ass, thighs, and stomach with its opaque sheen.
He thumbs the bulge in the fabric and shudders as blood rushes to his cock. His heart thrums with excitement.
He feels sexy. It’s a feeling he’s never tried to capture.
He can already imagine Takumi drooling over him. You’re so pretty, you’re so good, you’re so perfect. His cock hardens more. He imagines Takumi getting hard from the mere photo, squirming at the sight of him. So pathetic.
He carefully positions himself on their bed, legs delicately splayed under him, thigh muscles flexing against the garter that it came with. He thumbs his waistband and snaps a photo, his chest and light pink nipples at attention in plain view, his clothed cock bulging beneath the lingerie as he teasingly lifts the waistband.
—---
They’re heading to their big meeting. Takumi shuffles along in his stiff uniform. Kamyuhn, and Eito, insisted he wear something a bit more formal and “leader-like,” for political meetings like this. It still feels a little large on him, but he does feel a bit more professional in it.
Something buzzes in his pant leg. Takumi quickly pulls his phone out and he sees Kamyuhn giving a judgemental side-eye while they walk.
“Is it really so dire that you must answer immediately?”
Her voice drifts through his head and he feels his mouth going dry. Eito sent him an image. It’s him, sitting on their bed. The angle is pointed downwards. He can see Eito’s beautifully sculpted chest, he’s ripped of course. So unfair. His pretty pink nipples stand perfect. He can just barely get a glimpse downwards and sees Eito’s cock pushing against a thin barrier of white lace. His face burns, his mouth agape as his dick twitches in his underwear. He goes unusually silent.
“Is it important? What are you looking at?” He can feel Kamyuhn trying to peek and Takumi yelps and turns the device off.
“Nothing! Nothing at all!” He panics and shoves the phone against his chest extremely nonchalantly. Kamyuhn is eyeing him suspiciously, her brow raised. Don’t get a boner, God, please do not get a boner five minutes before the most important meeting of my life.
He ends up having to excuse himself before it even starts, rejoining late.
____
Eito’s eyes scan over words but his heart isn’t in it. His mind keeps drifting back to the message he sent. It had been hours ago and Takumi had yet to respond. He opens their messages again and to his horror he sees Takumi typing. The bubble appears, and then disappears. Appears, disappears. Typing.
Takumi is typing…
…
Takumi is typing…
Takumi is typing…
…
Takumi is typing…
Holy shit
His heartrate quickens. Excitement bubbles inside him.
Like what you see?
yes. send more. please
Since you asked so politely…
Truthfully, it takes a good fifteen minutes for Eito to put everything back on and make himself presentable. He carefully puts two fingers in the waistband of the lingerie, teasingly brushing against his cock. He snaps a photo.
god, you look so fucking good in that.
what are you doing right now?
Eito flounders. He’s taking sexy photos of himself for Takumi, obviously. He knows that’s not the answer Takumi is looking for. He thinks.
Eito is typing…
Touching myself.
Eito is typing…
How about you?
thinking about tearing that off you
Eito brushes his hand against his cock, it twitches at the attention. Desperation really is a good look on Takumi.
i want to touch every inch of you and show you how much i want you
you’re so pretty it’s not fair. of course you’re jacked too.
Eito gasps, his cock hardening at the words. He gives it a tentative stroke, his eyes rapt on the screen.
your dick can barely fit in those panties. I want it inside me instead.
He squirms against his own touch at the thought. Takumi caressing every inch of him, carefully showing his appreciation.
A minute passes. And then another. And then a third until Eito realizes it's probably supposed to be him saying something.
Eito is typing…
Eito is typing…
Eito is typing…
…
He’s maybe bitten off a bit more than he can chew. He truthfully has no idea what to say. His slight stimulation to his cock feels good. Knowing Takumi finds him attractive and was probably currently jerking off to photos of him feels even better. But he’s drawing a blank on how to convey any of this to Takumi.
Tell me more. What are you doing to yourself while we’re apart?
Takumi replies instantly.
touching myself and imagining its you.
His breath hitches.
your fingers wrapped around my dick. your pretty lips around it while i fuck your throat maybe.
He imagines with Takumi. His slimy, fleshy, cock forcing its way into his throat. That’s… gross. Perverse Takumi with his ugly thoughts.
Eito is typing…
Takumi is typing…
I don’t know about that.
Takumi sent an image
Eito opens it. It’s a photo, similar to the one he sent. Takumi is sprawled on a bed, his oozing flesh dripping in the open air while his vile cock stands at attention, thumbing the tip. He can’t tell if its pus or pre-cum beading at the tip.
He feels his erection flag at the sight. It’s so… ugly. It’s very ugly. Disgusting, even.
Don’t send photos. It’s repulsive.
ok we have got to work on your sexting
Perhaps this isn't going to be as easy as he thought.