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Wait, what was that?
“Repeat that for me?” Denji asks.
You shuffle from one to the other, hands buried in the front pockets of your slacks. You’re never one to appear nervous, much less embarrassed. No, no, no, you’re the cool, collected guy, the one who could rip off a demon’s head with his bare hands if he truly wanted to. But here you are, in the flesh, looking like you have to shit yourself.
“I said, ‘Do you want to go to the movies with me?’ Is it that bad?” you say.
Okay, okay, so Denji did hear you correctly. Huh. Seems like he doesn’t have to go finger drilling for earwax after all. Shit, now he’s embarrassed.
“Not really,” Denji replies, gaze shifting to the plant behind you. He scratches his cheek, bottom lip pushed in a pout. “I’d be down with going to the movies.”
You close your eyes and sigh (it’s barely audible, but Denji swears you sound relieved). “Cool, cool. How does tonight sound? I can swing by Aki’s place and pick you up.”
That sounds absolutely fabulous, but then it suddenly dawns upon Denji that, you know, Power and Aki will see you.
And him.
Going on a date.
“Wait, is this a date?” Denji blabs.
You quirk an eyebrow at him – ah, there you are – and cross your arms instead. “Do you not want it to be a date?”
Kinda? No? Yes? Like, sure, going to see some movies sounds great and all, but it’s not like it’s with Makima or anything…
As if sensing his inner turmoil, you sigh again (this time, it’s audible and you don’t sound relieved) but your expression softens. “Maybe… Think of it as a dude date?”
“A dude date? What the fuck is that?”
“You know, a date, but for dudes. It’s not like a regular date. I’m not Makima.” You shrug. “It’s whatever.”
Something inside Denji’s chest tightens into a little ugly knot. Why do you sound so… So dejected?
“Oi.” Denji sends a fist colliding into your sternum. “If you’re gonna take me out on a proper date, then act like it! Buy me popcorn and candy!”
Glancing down, you eye the fist still connected to your chest. A slight smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Okay. Whatever you say, princess.” You flick his forehead, chuckling as he pulls a face. “I’ll be there around 8. See you then.”
You hastily ruffle Denji’s mess of golden strands and take off, whistling a little tune. Denji huffs as he runs his fingers through his hair, ignoring the rapid thumping of his heart. Dude date, regular date, whatever – he’s getting free food! That’s what he should be happy about!
(Or, at least, that’s what he tries to tell himself.)
Later that evening, Denji is… distracted.
He measly pushes the food around in his bowl, his eyes unblinking. He’s gotten better at using chopsticks, you know – much better than Power’s habit of stabbing the ever-living hell out of her meal. They lightly screech whenever the tip grinds against the ceramic just a bit too hard. It’s whatever. Totally.
“Denji.”
Fuck.
Grimacing, Denji looks to Aki. “…Yo.”
Aki points at Denji’s bowl with his own chopsticks. “Are you alright?” Honestly, Aki has every right to be concerned; usually, Denji is too busy scarfing food down his throat to care whether or not he’ll choke.
Surprisingly, even Power stops her open-mouthed chewing. “You gonna eat that?”
Denji tosses her a glare and possessively pulls the bowl closer towards his chest. “Yes.” He then clears his throat and looks to Aki. “I’m going to the movies tonight.”
Both of Aki’s eyebrows disappear under his bangs. “Really?”
Denji thumbs the tip of his nose, suddenly smug. “Uh, yeah. Scored a date with a total hottie! Giant tits, full mouth, fat ass. 10/10.”
Power’s jaw drops and a couple half-eaten chunks of food fall onto the table. “Wait, with that guy?”
Goddammit, Power! Learn to keep your mouth shut for once!
Somehow, Aki’s eyes grow even rounder. “Guy?”
Fuck, now Denji’s panicking. There’s a continuous stream of heat flooding his face and a sweat beading at his hairline. “No, no, this is someone completely different!” Denji dismisses, frantically waving his hands before him. “You guys don’t even know them! Definitely not who you’re thinking of.”
“Okay,” Aki drawls, “then who is it?”
Goddammit, Aki! Learn to stop asking such digging questions for once!
Power swallows her food. “Is it Makima?”
Aki visibly twitches.
Denji trills his lips. “No…. But! I’m getting experience for when I do date her, for real! I’m gonna be, like, so good at taking her to the movies and stuff.”
A sly smirk crawls its way onto Power’s face. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say~” Reaching out, she jabs her chopsticks into another piece of shrimp tempura and shoves it into her mouth. “Are you going out in that?”
“Hah? What the hell does that mean?” Denji barks at her. “Are you mocking my clothes? Look at yourself!”
Aki hums, but his attention is focused on the chewed table-food Power left behind. His gaze shifts to Denji’s shirt. “Power has a fair point. Your shirt’s a mess.”
“Hah?!”
Looking downward, Denji inspects his plain white tee; splotches riddle the fabric in an uneven pattern, and there’s already a hole at the neck’s seam. “…What’s the problem with it?”
“Pah!” Power exclaims – and oh look, another piece of food flies out her mouth. “You don’t know? Humans are obsessed with looking good! I’ve seen them wear the most pointless things when they get together! It doesn’t make any sense!”
“Chew your food and swallow before you speak,” Aki hisses at her. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he gestures vaguely at Denji. “Again, Power makes a good point. It’d be best for you to clean up.” He drags the hand down his face. “I guess I can lend you something decent to wear, but you cannot ruin it. Got it? I’ll skin you alive.”
“Fine, fine!” Denji says, raising his hands in surrender. “You guys are so badda-bent… Sheesh.”
“Badda-bent?”
Denji’s eyebrows furrow. “Yeah. Or does the great Aki not have such a great vocabulary like me?”
Aki facepalms. “It’s ‘adamant’.”
“Whatever!”
And so, the night of “getting Denji ready for an exciting date!” officially begins.
Unlike some people (looking at you, Power), Denji likes to scrub himself raw while bathing. He practically empties half of the shampoo bottle, making sure his hair is lathered to the point where all he knows is shampoo. It smells really good – like pine and apples. I’m gonna smell like a million bucks!, he thinks to himself as he ever so casually uses Aki’s razor to shave his pubes.
Denji pauses. Will you… initiate something with him? Sure, it’s been a couple days since you, like, ate his ass and then proceeded to stick the head of your cock in his ass and jack off. Something casual, you know? His cock twitches in interest at the idea. Denji won’t admit he wanted you to completely ruin him and break the desk below him, no way. He also won’t admit that he begged for your cock. Nope.
“Can you not?” he hisses at his dick. He has a date to get ready for!
Thankfully, his dick manages to calm down with a minute or two of complete concentration. After a soak in the tub, he brushes his teeth, combs his hair, and squirts on some of Aki’s cologne. It’s a warm, comforting scent – Denji has no idea what the bottle says, but his nose agrees with it! His eyes land on the neatly folded pile of clothes Aki left for him. The shirt is nice – red in color and long sleeved, aka Denji’s dream comfort fit – and the jeans are a bit loose, but that’s mostly because of his slim waist. Overall, it’s rather simplistic, but it’s one of the classiest things Denji has ever worn.
Stepping from the bathroom, he’s greeted with the sight of both Aki and Power waiting outside the door. Nyako meows, seemingly approving Denji’s appearance. Aki hums, also seemingly pleased. Power flashes him a double thumbs-up.
As if on cue, the doorbell rings.
“Get that dick!” Power cheers. She yelps when Aki smacks her alongside the head.
Heat floods Denji’s cheeks – he just hopes it doesn’t match the same hue as the shirt.
Denji can’t get out of the car fast enough.
Granted, he refused to let either Power or Aki see you when you showed up at the door. Denji sold the lie that he was going on a date with someone they didn’t know, so he had to keep up with it! The quicker the two of you were gone, the better!
But now… Now you’re alone with him. One hand sits on the wheel, the other on the gearshift. Denji’s never driven a car before – hell, he wonders if he ever will. Like him, you’re dressed casually, but it’s so different to see you in something that isn’t the Public Safety uniform. Denji decides that he likes you better in a baggy hoodie and a pair of jeans that has rips on the knees.
As if sensing his thoughts, you turn to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “What’s on your mind?”
“Was I staring?”
You bark out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, you were.” Your gaze shifts back to the road. “Glad to see I caught your eye.”
Honestly… Yeah, you did. Now that he’s studying your profile, Denji spots a little scar behind your ear. Interesting. “What movie are we gonna see?” he asks, stretching in his seat.
You send him a quick sly look. “How are you with horror?”
“Boring.”
Again, you laugh. Denji never knew he was so funny. “Would you prefer to see a romance?”
Denji pulls a face. “As long as there’s sex, I’m down.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” As your voice trails off, the hand on the gearshift reaches up, pokes him in the cheek. “If you’re good, I’ll take you to see all the movies you want to see.”
It’s ridiculous how much that one sentence sets Denji’s heart ablaze.
By the time the two of you reach the theater, Denji is… finicky. It’s stupid, really, being so nervous all of a sudden. He keeps pulling at the hems of his sleeves, stretching them over his fists. Aki will probably get pissy at Denji for ruining his shirt. Ah, whatever.
Next to you, Denji feels smaller than ever. You have a solid head over him – and then some, most likely. You’re not that much older than him, either; what, you have, like, two or three years on him? And then there’s you’re muscle mass… Jesus. He emerges from his thoughts when a hand gently takes him by the elbow, directing him through the slight crowd of other movie-goers. Shit, even your hand is huge. Long fingers, protruding veins… It leaves Denji mesmerized.
“What size popcorn you want?” you ask him. “The biggest one, right?”
God, he could suck your dick right then and there.
You don’t even wait for his answer before heading to the counter; like you said, you buy him the largest size of popcorn, a soda, and various types of candy. The cashier merely ogles the pile of food, an unreadable glint in her eyes, but you either don’t pay it any mind or you simply don’t give a shit. Denji watches in wonder as you walk back over to him, handing over the bucket of popcorn and his soda.
“Sorry,” you say, cocking your head in a way that is way too cute for someone of your stature, “I didn’t ask what your soda preferences were. I hope you don’t mind Coke.”
Denji’s stomach flips at the words. Last time he had cola was when you caught him masturbating in a lonely office, where you then kissed him, rimmed him, and… Oh. He swallows heavily, urging his cock to stay flaccid. “Yeah,” he squeaks. “That works perfectly.”
The theater is somewhat packed when the two of you enter the room; even so, you easily pick out two seats somewhere near the back. Denji doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or it’s merely a coincidence that it’s somewhere easily hidden… He mentally slaps himself. It’s not like you’re going to fuck him in the back of a theater, not so hidden away from prying eyes… Shit, now he wishes you would.
The movie is so-so. Sure enough, it’s some campy horror (at least it is to Denji), but he’s too distracted to really enjoy it. Between shoving his face full of salty popcorn and slurping the syrupy sweetness of the cola, he’s all too aware of the heat radiating from you. You smell of spice and musk – welcoming. Denji wants nothing more than to crawl into your lap and snuggle against your chest. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll kiss him, grope his ass, pull his jeans down and shove your fingers inside-
His eyes flicker to the side, watching you from his peripheral. You appear rather content, face lax and posture loose. You’re not much of a stick-in-the-mud (unlike Aki), but you carry around a sternness that most Public Safety employees have. Seeing you totally relaxed is… nice.
Fuck it.
Denji leans into your side, his head resting on your shoulder. He feels you jump under him and he resists the urge to flash you a shit eating smile. Like this, he can feel your warmth better, inhale your delectable scent. Truthfully, he could fall asleep right there.
You allow him to stay like that. Hell, you’ve even taken his hand in yours, fingers lazily rubbing circles into the knuckles. Denji stares at your intertwined hands. He can’t remember a time when someone held his hand so earnestly. It’s weirdly domestic.
Further into the movie, two of the main characters get it on. Denji visibly perks up at that, eliciting an amused chuckle from you. The girl’s perky tits bounce as she rides the other guy’s cock; Denji takes a quick glance down at his own chest, wondering if his chest would jiggle like that. And, just like that, his cock twitches to life, the beginnings of a chub tenting his jeans. His eyes flick back to the screen. His mind morphs the girl into Makima, the guy below her himself. Makima would jiggle. Her tits are massive. She’d swallow Denji’s cock with ease, almost like she was built to take it. But then his mind switches; suddenly he’s the girl and you’re the one pounding into him.
Denji’s shuffling catches your attention. Craning your neck, the side of your mouth brushes against his hair as you ask, “You feeling okay?”
No, obviously. Glancing around, he looks to see if anybody is watching. Thankfully, nobody is, but he does spot a couple making out. His brain turns to mush.
“Denji?” Now you’re looking at him.
Pressing forward, Denji slides his lips against yours. It’s chaste, messy. Nothing to write home about, really. But then oh, you’re kissing back, working Denji’s mouth open and slipping your tongue inside. You taste like artificial citrus, sugary sweet and delicious. You swallow the quiet moan that slips from Denji’s mouth, your hand coming up to cup the side of his face.
No, no, not there, Denji thinks. He takes the hand off his face and brings it lower, presses it to his crotch. He whimpers when you grab onto the bulge, the heel of your palm rubbing the head.
“Take me home?” Denji barely manages to whisper against your lips.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please.”
Impatience gnaws at Denji’s insides the entire ride to your house.
It takes some serious willpower to not jump you when you’re driving, but the firm hand placed on his thigh is enough to tell Denji to stay, boy.
Once the door to your house closes… It’s fair game.
Denji barely has a moment to breathe before he’s shoved against the door, your mouth capturing his, your hands on his waist. The kiss shared in the theater was tame compared to this one; you waste no time, your tongue tracing the inside of his mouth, mapping everything out and committing it to memory. Denji whines, hands desperately grasping on your broad shoulders.
Your hands move from his waist to his wrists; you easily pin them above his head, one hand keeping them anchored while the other returns to his waist. Curving into your touch, Denji lets you do as you please. You suckle on his tongue, chew on his bottom lip, make him yours. He’s swimming in your taste, your scent, that delectable weight pressing into his lower abdomen.
Pulling away, your nose skims his flushed cheek as you go in for his neck. Denji submissively tilts his head, exposing more of the creamy flesh. His breathing is rapid. Desperate.
“You gonna be a good boy for me, Denji?” you murmur.
“Always,” he responds.
He yelps as you grab him by the back of the thighs, lifting him up like he weighed nothing. His legs instinctively wrap themselves around your waist, and you have the audacity to huff a laugh. You navigate through your house with ease, the steps creaking under your weight as you ascend. Each step makes Denji’s heart thump just a bit harder – it also makes his cock bump against your stomach, which is also a plus.
Memories of your very first night together flood his mind as his back gets pressed into the mattress. It started simple, completely innocent. It was just two bros showing off their cocks and comparing sizes, you know? Denji recalls the stupid look on your face when he grabbed your dick, but he remembers how thick it was, even when flaccid. Shit, his hand could barely wrap around the thing then, but hard? Good lord.
You kissed him then. It was weird, Denji will admit, but it felt so good. And then – and then you touched him, bringing your cocks together and getting him off like that. You fucked his thighs after that, hips moving savagely. Denji wanted you to fuck him then, and he wanted you to fuck him in the office.
Tonight, he will get what he wants.
Sitting up, he yanks off his shirt, cool air a pleasant contrast to the heat of his skin. His nipples stand to attention, begging to be touched. There’s a hungry flash in your eyes as you push him back down; your mouth descends upon him, lips and tongue lavishing his nipples with rapt attention. Ragged breaths fill the room, mix with the wet noises of your mouth shamelessly suckling on his hardened buds. His cock strains hard against the zipper of his jeans. Denji bumps hips against yours, a pathetic whine rumbling in his throat.
“Hey, hey,” you say, “I thought you said you were going to be my good boy?” You flick a nipple. “Be good.”
Denji shudders. “Please, please, touch me,” he babbles. “I’ll be good.”
“Fine,” you huff.
Pressing another kiss to his sternum, you move down his torso, leaving a wet trail in your wake. You growl against his sharp hip bone, fingers nimbly undoing the button and zipper. It takes little encouragement to have him lift his hips for you to remove both his pants and undergarments. His cock bobs cutely under your stare, precum already beading the tip.
A murmur of your name spills from his lips. “Please.”
You purr, your fingers brushing over the supple skin above his cock. “You shaved? For me? How cute.”
A moan rips free when your mouth abruptly takes in his cock. Your nose bumps his pubic bone as the head slips down your throat. Denji’s fingers find purchase in your sheets as you swallow around him, a pleased hum rumbling in your throat, around his cock. “Oh my god – holy fuck-“
I’ve died and gone to heaven, Denji thinks. His eyelids feel too heavy, the wet heat of your mouth so fucking good, but he wants to watch. Easing himself onto his elbows, Denji watches slack jawed as you work on his cock, tongue tracing the bulging vein on the underside, crooking around his frenulum. Then there goes your hand, bringing his thigh to rest on your shoulder, fingertips dropping to lightly knead at his balls.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit you’re sucking on his cock and it feels so good your mouth is so hot and your tongue-
Denji, embarrassingly enough, cums within moments. Pitiful whines grace your ears as he falls limp against the mattress, his chest heaving. That was the first time he’s ever received a blowjob, and he lasts for, what, three minutes? Sheesh.
Your mouth leaves his cock with a sinful pop, saliva and cum sticking to your lips and chin. “That was faster than I anticipated,” you tease, pinching Denji’s inner thigh.
“Stop,” Denji whines, covering his face with his hands.
“Hey, baby boy, look at me,” you coo, and fuck if it doesn’t make Denji whimper and twitch. You gently pull his hands away, turning them in your grasp to plant kisses along his palms. “I was only teasing. Tonight is about making you feel good, yeah?” Your eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones as your voice drops in pitch. “Whatever you’d like, I’ll deliver.”
Denji audibly swallows. “Whatever I’d like?”
“Mmhmm.”
This is it. This is finally his chance.
Planting his feet on the bed, Denji spreads his legs wide; a hand reaches in between his split thighs, fingers framing his puckered hole. He licks his lips. “Fuck me.”
Your nostrils flare. “Denji,” you start, hesitance thick in your voice, “are you sure? I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.” Funny how you say that, because your eyes can’t seem to leave that tight ring of muscle.
“You said you’d do anything I’d like,” Denji throws back, his voice mockingly sweet. “Besides… It’s only ass virginity, right? I can save my actual virginity for Makima.” He wiggles his hips. “Please?”
Cursing under your breath, you abandon him on the bed. It only takes a few moments for you to remove your clothing, the muscle rippling under the skin making Denji’s mouth water. Your cock hangs heavily between your legs, the tip flushed and shining with precum. Denji watches as you go for your nightstand, practically ripping the drawer out before you retrieve a bottle.
His curiosity piques as you pop it open and squeeze a clear gel into your awaiting palm. You then rub your hands together, eyes finding his; you smile, all fuzzy and warm and cute.
“What are you waiting for- Oh.”
The first finger is slow to breach him. Denji’s heart jumps to his throat, his breath catching in his lungs.
“Relax,” you tell him softly.
Nodding, Denji lets his tense abdominal muscles lax. That slick finger slips further inside; he sighs as it wriggles around, letting the rigged muscles ease into the feeling. But then it crooks, and Denji yelps. His cock kicks as you crook your finger again, and again, and again. You slowly work up to three fingers, your free hand rubbing soothing circles into his hip the entire time.
Already, Denji is flushed all the way down to his tits, his cock (and mouth) drooling. “It feels weird,” he slurs. “Like I’m a hand puppet.” Again, you laugh.
Denji won’t admit how much he misses your fingers when you retract them. He suddenly feels so… empty. He shuffles in his spot, thighs spreading as far as they can go. “ ‘m ready.”
“I bet you are,” you say, leaning down and planting a kiss on his forehead. Denji blinks.
But then he’s moving, his knees finding themselves on either side of your hips. Now he’s the one on top, resting leisurely in your lap – well, as leisurely as he can be when your cock is literally pressing into his spine, but it’s whatever. He watches with fascination as you lie flat, your hands grabbing him by the ass.
“Baby boy, my darling little prince,” you purr, “you’re going to ride me, okay? Be a good boy and make yourself comfortable.”
With your guidance, Denji raises himself up; your hand leaves his ass, reaching for your cock and positioning it for him. Denji glances up at your face, and you give him a reassuring nod. There’s no words being said, but he can see the whenever you’re ready reflecting in your eyes.
Sucking in a breath, Denji eases down. All the air gets knocked from his lungs when your cockhead pushes past that tight ring of muscle, its presence hot and thick and…and… domineering. Broken moans spill from Denji’s lips as he slowly lowers himself, your cock rubbing his insides in a way he never thought possible. He’s trembling, positively so, but holy shit he’s finally doing it.
He lets gravity do the rest as he drops completely, his ass meeting your lap. You groan as you bottom out, the veins in your neck popping. Denji wants to lick them, bite them, mark them. Even so, he’s panting harder than you are, fat beads of sweat trailing down his spine and making his bangs stick to his face.
Again, he raises himself up, but this time your cock snags against his insides. His eyes cross as his muscles desperately clench, just begging to keep you inside. He cries out as he falls back into your lap, the sharp slap of skin meeting skin echoing in his skull.
“That’s it, good boy, just like that,” you encourage.
Nodding his head frantically, Denji repeats the movements. He gradually quickens his pace until he’s bouncing in your lap, cock slapping against his stomach with each stroke. That scene from the movie plays in his head, and Denji looks down, only to see that he’s not jiggling! Hell, he’s too skinny to jiggle, plus he doesn’t have giant knockers! Talk about a disappointment.
He’s barely aware of the tears streaming down his cheeks as he rides you with abandon; hiccups and whimpers break free from his lips, murmurs of your name getting lost with his cries. He keens when you suddenly thrust up into him, cockhead punching a spot that causes his eyes to roll back. His body goes limp as you buck your hips, hands keeping him steady and yanking him down to meet each snap of the hips.
There’s a mantra of more, more, more! filling his ears. Is it him who’s saying it? Probably, if his dry throat is anything to go by.
He’s so warm, so full, so freaking happy. His eyes crack open, seeking for your gaze, and his heart just stops. You’re staring up at him with a look full of love. Denji’s never seen that before. Hell, he isn’t entirely positive if it is love.
“I wanna cum,” he babbles, forcing himself to move quicker. He wants you to melt with him, to feel…. To feel loved. “Make me cum, please? Wanna cum on your cock. Fuck me, make me cum, please, please, please!”
His words cause you to snap; you abruptly push him onto his back, arms wrapping around him as you fuck him stupid. Drool streams down his cheeks as his tongue waggles, cock weeping between your bodies. Your hipbones are bound to leave bruises on his thighs, especially with the way Denji wraps himself around you.
Denji screams as he cums, head buried in your shoulder. You curse as his slick walls flutter and clench harder around your cock; heaving panting fills Denji’s ear, mixes with the wet fwop, fwop, fwop of you fucking him to reach your own high. He weeps from the sensitivity, whimpering as he nuzzles your neck. When your climax hits, you ram yourself fully inside, filling him to the absolute brim.
“Denji, Denji, you did so good,” you whisper into his hair. You ease your cock out and move to pull away, but Denji refuses to let you go.
“So sleepy,” he murmurs. “Stay with me.”
“Of course,” you coo, shifting onto your side so Denji can snuggle into you.
As he drifts off to sleep, he swears he hears a quiet I love you as the world goes dark.