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Nanashi manages to wait until Asahi has shuffled sadly out of his room, the last one to leave, before he turns and kicks the wall. This is all so shitty! They weren't trying to cause any problems, of course they weren't, and it was Asahi's dumb idea to look for a "really powerful demon" anyway, and now everyone's mad at him and treating him like some kind of traitor when all he did was try to help. Screw trying to help. Screw everyone.

He strips out of his jumpsuit and leaves it crumpled at the foot of his bed. He's probably still too worked up to sleep, but if the last few days have been any guide he's going to need the rest. He spends a few minutes tossing and turning uncomfortably. His pulse roars in his ears and he just keeps coming back to how unfair this whole thing is. He doesn't deserve any of it.

Maybe getting off would help. Give him something nice to think about for a few minutes, a little kick of pleasure to shake him out of this. Sometimes that'll relax him when nothing else does, on days when he feels too much like an afterthought that nobody wanted. Nanashi pushes his boxers down and gets a hand on his dick, starting to coax himself hard. He doesn't think about anything, just feels, being right here in this moment and that's all.

And then the voice in his head goes, "Hey, kid."

"Leave me alone," Nanashi snaps. It's a stupid thing to do to someone who can kill you with a thought, but apparently he's the best in Tokyo at doing stupid things. "I don't need another lecture about how trusting other people will just screw me over. I get it, okay?"

"Maybe you do," Dagda says thoughtfully. It's the closest Dagda has come to showing faith in him, but that's still not saying much and Nanashi's just out of patience with everything.

"I do. So unless you want to offer me help with this," and he gestures at his dick, "just leave me alone. I'll go back to doing Godslayer stuff in the morning."

Dagda materializes in his room, looming, arms crossed, tall enough he almost reaches the ceiling. "You couldn't handle my help with that, kid."

Nanashi narrows his eyes. He is so far beyond caring. "Try me."

Dagda laughs, and the anger flares hot in Nanashi's gut again, but then Dagda is standing right over him and suddenly present in a way he wasn't before, a way that fills Nanashi's nostrils with the scents of earth and musk and iron. He scrambles up to sitting, putting his back to the wall. It's pointless—Dagda could still kill him with a thought. But it's important not to just... lie there, or whatever.

"All talk, are you?" Dagda asks. His death's-head face can't really change expression but Nanashi would swear he's smirking. "That didn't last long."

Is he trying to make Nanashi madder?

"You're going to need to have a little fight left to be able to take this," Dagda says as if he asked the question out loud. And the plates of his... armor or whatever peel back out of the way and expose his dick and it's huge. Unbelievably huge. Easily the length of Nanashi's forearm and definitely thicker. "Think you can handle it?"

"Yes," Nanashi says defiantly. He's done playing things safe because he's "supposed to," or whatever. He's never done anything like this with anyone and he's pretty sure Dagda is nobody's idea of a nice friendly first time but also screw that, he's not backing down. Sure, he's a little freaked out, but he's tired of running scared and he knows he matters to Dagda and that's more than he can say for most people. Most humans. And even though he's freaked out, he's still hard. So it'll be fine, right? "Give it to me."

"Come take it," Dagda says. "You think you can get your mouth open that wide?"

Nanashi bets he can. Probably. Maybe. He rocks forward onto his knees, shuffling forward to the edge of the bed.

Up close he's less sure. It's just so big, a little bit tapered at the tip but swelling to monster-sized really fast. And it's strange, which makes sense since Dagda's not human, but it's weird to look at, these swirling ridges all down its length. But if he just sits here staring Dagda will say something shitty about it again, so he leans forward and opens his mouth.

There's no way it's going to fit. He licks the head of it, tasting earth and iron, and stretches his jaw as wide as it will go, and it's not enough. He doesn't pull back, though. This might be weird but it's an exciting kind of weird and it feels like he's getting away with something. He thinks he likes the taste of it. He licks it some more, rubs his face against it, looking up at Dagda as he does it. What now? the look asks, and he's probably getting himself in trouble but he doesn't care.

"Can't make it happen, can you?" Dagda still sounds like this is just entertainment for him. Jerk. "Just won't fit in that smart mouth."

"Too bad for you," Nanashi retorts. He tongues at the slit, where he can taste iron most sharply. It makes his dick twitch, and he's not sure if that's because he's actually into god cock or if it's just that thing Nikkari used to talk about where Hunters can get hot for dangerous stuff because of some reflex doing weird things in your brain. Feels good either way.

Dagda grabs him by the hair and pulls him back, not seriously hard but enough to sting a little. "Come on now, kid. You might not have known me long, but it's long enough to realize I'm not here to settle for a compromise."

He sits down on the edge of the bed—it creaks under his weight—and manhandles Nanashi into his lap. Nanashi looks back over his shoulder. "What, you think you can get it in my ass when it wouldn't fit in my mouth?"

"Maybe you've forgotten. I can make your body do whatever I damn well please."

Nanashi opens his mouth to talk back and then the world goes glassy and swimmy the way it does when Dagda takes over, and he's not doing anything at all. Not on his own. His legs splay, knees landing on the mattress on either side of Dagda's thighs. His hips slide back until the thick head of Dagda's cock is pressing against his ass. There's no way it'll fit—the head's bigger than his fist—and if he could talk he'd be saying so.

But he can't talk and apparently he doesn't know what he's talking about because Dagda pulls him down and the stretch hurts until it doesn't and then it's just weird and creepy and unsettling, this huge alien heat sliding up into his guts and pushing the breath out of him. He pants, his limbs shaky and useless, his skin flashing hot and cold. And for all that he's still hard, and he doesn't know if that's because Dagda's controlling his body or not.

His thighs flex, rocking him in Dagda's lap, and he still doesn't have the voice to tell Dagda what a shithead he is. It doesn't hurt, and that has to be something Dagda's doing to him, but it's like nothing he's ever felt before, either. The weight of it, the pressure filling him up until it feels like there's no room for anything else—like it's rearranging his insides to make room where there wasn't any before.

"There," Dagda says, this low smug purr, "getting the hang of it now?"

Oh, fuck him if he thinks he's won.

The world ripples and snaps back into place and Nanashi can feel gravity dragging at him again, pulling him down onto the thick shaft of Dagda's cock. He looks down, because it feels like the skin of his belly is stretched taut, and—he can see it, shifting movement under the skin of his abdomen. He presses his hand against that spot and he can feel it, too, the stiff pressure that doesn't move with him when he squirms.

Squirming does make that pressure feel better, though, this moment when it feels like it's rubbing right up against the root of his dick. He braces his feet and lifts himself up slightly, so that he can make that happen again as he sinks down.

"There you go, kid," Dagda says. One of his hands curls around Nanashi's hip. "That's the way."

"Not doing it for you," Nanashi says. It's only a little ruined by how breathless he sounds. He rolls his hips, not picking himself up this time but grinding down, and manages to hit that good spot again. Yeah, there, that's what he's here for. It's still so much but he can work with that. It's kinda hot, the weird heavy fullness that pins him in place, too much to escape. He presses harder against his belly so he can feel the shift of Dagda's cock inside him as he moves, and that forces a groan out of him as he chases that stroke that felt so good.

Dagda's hand tightens on his hip, fingertips digging in. "Good. Be selfish. That's the only way to get anywhere."

"Still more stupid lessons?" There it is. That's the angle that makes it good every time. "I'm not learning anything right now."

"You're trying not to," Dagda says. "We'll see if you manage."

Nanashi makes an irritated noise and refuses to answer. If he argues, Dagda wins. He was trying to stop thinking about other people's expectations, wasn't he?

So instead he just focuses on the huge demon dick he's sitting on, and not the huge demon dick it's attached to. Now that he knows how to position himself he can make the pressure feel good consistently, and even the aching stretch is almost good. It's a victory, right, even if he got it by cheating. He can take this. He can handle it. He slides a hand down over his balls and further, down to where his asshole stretches wide around the shaft of Dagda's cock. It's so big, and his flesh feels so stretched tight there's no more give left in it—probably he should have passed that point long before anything as big as Dagda's cock got in there, fuck.

But it's hot, even with some tiny distant corner of his brain trying to panic about how impossible it is, and he brings that hand back up to wrap around his own dick and stroke himself off. He's panting as he leans into that perfect angle, the one that just lights up all his nerves between fucking himself and jerking off. The tension's rising in him bright and seething, pulling him close to the release he needs so bad—

Only he can't get there, just hover right on the edge where he's so hard it hurts and so tense he's shaky, and at first he can't figure out what's going on, but then there's just enough glossy weirdness to the world that he gets it. "What, why—?"

"You won't enjoy it anymore after you finish," Dagda says. "So wait."

"You fucker, you piece of shit," Nanashi gasps, and Dagda just laughs as he gets a firm grip on Nanashi's hips and starts thrusting hard. After that Nanashi can't manage words anymore. He's still mostly in control of himself but it's so much, thick ridges rubbing his stretched rim and the thick heavy weight of it driving so deep into him it shoves the breath right out of his lungs. And he's still hovering right on the edge of coming, unable to either calm down or finish, just desperate the whole time Dagda is using him like a fucking toy. Like a puppet.

He's been on the edge for long enough he's starting to hate it when Dagda says, "Here," and two things happen at once: fresh, strange heat bursts somewhere in Nanashi's gut and he's finally able to let go, coming harder than he ever has in his life—he shudders, impaled on that monster dick, slamming a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds he can't help making.

He sags in exhaustion afterward, feeling like someone just picked him up and wrung him out like a bar towel and now he's just as boneless. He needs to keep his guard up, doesn't he? But there's nothing he can do about Dagda anyway.

Dagda picks Nanashi up off his lap and dumps him back in bed, not especially gently but not like he's trying to be mean about it, at least. "Get some sleep, kid. We've got plenty of work to do tomorrow." He disappears without waiting for Nanashi to say good night. Which is fine. Nanashi wasn't going to.

Damn, he feels weird. Empty. Tender. He reaches down to touch, morbidly curious: Dagda stretched his asshole out so much it's still open with nothing in it, tender and hot and not resisting when he presses his fingertips in. It's so soft in there, and wet with god come. He's not sure how to feel about it.

But that's his life anymore, right? Crazy shit happening because of Dagda or some other demon that he's not sure how to feel about. At least this time he got off.

He rolls over and pulls the blanket over himself. Dagda's right, he needs his rest. He's gotta face down basically everyone in Tokyo at this point, doesn't he? But what the hell. He'll show them all.