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Neku wouldn’t usually call himself curious. He knew when to leave well enough alone, when the things going on above his head should stay as they are, perceived not by his mortal eyes. When the tidbits of information certain higher powers tried to tempt him with should remain thoroughly uninvestigated.
Curiosity isn't a trait conducive to a long lifespan, when you have the misfortune of being handed a new Pandora's box every time the local deity decides his godly throne is chafing his ass too much. Neku would like to think he's gaining some immunity to it all.
But in this case he is curious. Very, very, hormonally driven curious. And as is usually the case (or at least Neku is fully intending on pinning it) with a majority of his problems both major and minor since the Game:
It’s Joshua’s fault.
There Neku was, just minding his own business in Wildkat, sharing ideas with Mr. H and sketching half-thought concepts into his ratty, frayed sketchbook when Josh had stormed in, a look not unlike the faces he’d seen on statues dedicated to old gods on his face, and disappeared into the back rooms with Mr. H.
Neku couldn’t lie; the sight had sent a jolt of something almost like electricity through his heart, making it skip. He tried sketching in their absence, drawing on that fierce look he’d seen on Joshua’s face for inspiration, but instead of a vague concept like he'd been putting down this whole time, he found Joshua’s face, firm and severe and pretty, staring back at him.
Teeth dug into his lip, the electricity he’d felt earlier still hummed in his veins, buzzing almost to his ears. He continued the sketch as if he were someone else; wild hair taking shape beneath his pencil, tousled by the winds or perhaps just the sheer force of the power flowing through his veins, lines forming a body that betrayed a strength beyond mortals, slender limbs that could rend you to pieces with a flick.
Joshua’s face, beautiful and devastating all at once, staring down at you as He observed. Were you in the palm of an unseen hand? Standing on a cliff to try and futilely reach his face, all the while knowing a mortal like you could never truly reach him?
Neku swallowed heavily, putting down the pencil. It was just a drawing but… those eyes he’d seen, they weren’t Joshua’s eyes, at least not the ones he was familiar with. The eyes he’d seen were the eyes of a God.
And he wanted to, burned to, see the rest of that god those eyes belonged to.
He can faintly hear Joshua’s voice, echoing with whispers of that vibe he’d only gotten a brief glimpse of, and Neku can’t help himself. He has to see.
Slipping from the chair, Neku creeps quietly towards the backrooms, where he can hear the to-and-fro between Josh and Mr. H from behind a closed door, pulsing lights slipping out from the crack at the bottom, and Neku gets the sense that maybe, he shouldn’t be looking at this.
But his curiosity (and only his curiosity, he stubbornly tells his body) pulls him forwards.
Hand on the doorknob, Neku turns it as slowly and quietly as he can manage, as if this iteration of Pandora's box could be fooled by simple caution, anticipation building in his stomach as the gap crept open wider and wider, letting more of that pulsing, vibrating light fall on his features like warmth from the sun. Joshua and Mr. H’s voices were loud, now, and he could hear them talking about something to do with a city (perhaps even Shibuya?) but Neku found himself too transfixed to listen as his eyes finally landed on what he’d been looking for.
At first, his mind registered that Josh was still the same height, but Neku didn’t have time to be disappointed about that, because he was transfixed by the way his body seemed to beat, almost as if his whole form had turned into a heart, in time with the pulsing he’d seen under the door. And the longer Neku looked, the more he noticed that Josh… didn’t have a defined edge.
Instead, Joshua’s form seemed to seep into the background like someone had taken a finger and smudged him, blending them together in a way that Neku’s mind got stuck on, unable to process where Joshua ended and the wall behind him began, even as his shape seemed to wisp and distort, almost flexing like a fish trapped in a net; something hidden underneath wanting to be released.
Joshua turned his head, barely, maybe, and Neku felt static race to pool like honey in his stomach as their eyes met.
Almost instinctively, Neku stepped away from the door and ran (though he’d never say it was running) back to his things, hurriedly packing up and booking it out of Wildkat.
The only thing on his mind for his whole sprint home was those surprisingly clear and piercing eyes in a sea of Sound and Colour.
For a couple weeks, Neku thinks he’s gotten away with it.
There’s no doubt Josh saw him there, gaping at him, but hopefully he considered giving Neku a jolt and sending him running out of the cafe consequences enough to not do anything else.
But Neku still felt… unsatisfied.
What he’d seen, while unusual, wasn’t… quite what he’d expected. Surprisingly human shaped, all things considered. With something writhing underneath, wanting to be free.
What does Josh actually look like, he wonders. How would he appear, unrestrained by the limits of keeping a human form, the strange entity bulging and rippling at constraining, luminous flesh?
His unfulfilled curiosity only starts really becoming a problem when he finds himself zoning out to thoughts of what Composer’s actual, true form looked like at work, and getting in trouble for it.
Well, if it had reached this point anyway, Neku figures the best way to get it out of his system would be to do what he’s always done with things he’s curious about; draw them, and fantasise.
The sketches give his late night ‘sessions’ something to dig their teeth into, can rock his world to thoughts of being encircled in Joshua’s scales pressed against his skin and tinkling like bells with every movement, or perhaps instead it’s fingers tangled and gripping tightly to thick fur in orgasm, less hair and more thinly woven strands of Noise and Soul blanketing Joshua’s body.
Sometimes, Joshua’s holding him down and breaching him wide with something that slithers and squirms with needle-sharp fangs pressed threateningly against his neck, or pounding him hard with something that reaches into him deep enough to spark an alluring, intoxicatingly powerless anxiety within him at the thought of Joshua’s cum so deep, so close to his womb, and all he can do is trust that Joshua won’t.
Tonight, he’s going at it a different angle. Or, angel.
He’d done some research, brushing past the typical ‘dudes with wings’ portrayals of angels to the real interesting stuff; beings of eyes and fire and wheels and light. Something that you could be near, but never truly touch.
He finishes the curve of his latest draft, something almost Noise-like, graffiti in style over classical pale silks and soft licks of flame. Buildings: an eruption of sharp feathers, reaper’s wings, hooked angelic pinions. Rotating rings of ashen roads and white lines, countless eyes of a wild beast. At some point, it's stopped feeling like he's putting down what comes to him, and instead that the image is revealing itself, uncovered by the feverish scrawl of a pencil he's merely holding onto.
Neku tapped his pencil against the paper, finding his gaze drawn back to the one constant between all the different creatures and forms he’d drawn; Joshua’s God eyes, with a glint of mischief, perhaps even desire, staring at him from the page.
It was just graphite, but Neku still found himself swallowing heavily as he locked with them; as if somehow, his simple lines on paper were somehow linked to Josh and Josh would know Neku was making eye contact with him through the page, looking at him in turn.
Eyes still lingering on the paper, Neku’s free hand almost seemed to move by itself, slowly lifting from the desk and drifting downwards towards the zipper on his pants. He hesitates for a moment, playing with the zip a little before resolutely pulling it down and shimmying his pants to the floor.
He doesn’t immediately pull down his underwear with them, instead lightly rubbing circles around his clit through the cloth. Neku pulls at his lip with his teeth, increasing the pressure and lightly rocking into the motions, forcing himself to stop before he got too carried away and his underwear too wet.
With a bit more shiver in his bones, Neku pushes down his underwear until he’s seated on his chair, sketch of Joshua still sitting in front of him. Watching.
He imagines Joshua is in front of him now, form stretching incomprehensibly into the sky over him, eyes staring him down to his core, and Neku trembles in the face of the sheer power in front of him (in truth, it’s his fingers gently rubbing and tugging on his clit that’s making his legs suddenly weak).
Neku lets his head fall back against his chair, as it changes; Joshua’s voice in his head telling him to spread wider; let him see. Joshua’s (his) curious fingers slip down and tease, slipping between folds and circling his entrance with a deliberate slowness before sliding back up to continue teasing his clit, steadily moving faster.
It’s not his usual masturbatory habits, but something about the newness of it makes him go along with it, it’s going to get him over the line either way, so he lets his hand do what it wants.
Neku’s eyes fall shut, losing sight of his drawing, replaced by the image of Joshua in his memory, the impression of Joshua’s gaze burning into his from the other side of the door. Joshua’s name forms on his lips, breathy and whispered like a secret.
“Yes, Neku?”
Neku’s budding orgasm immediately crashes and burns, spiralling into fragments and pieces and vanishing into background noise.
Eyes flying open, Neku looks first to his drawing, which blinks back at him unevenly, eyes out of sync, then down to see Joshua comfortably settled in between his legs. He has himself tucked under the desk as if he isn’t intruding at all, chin resting on top of folded hands over one of Neku’s knees, surprisingly tangible and solid for something who’s bottom half seems to be fading into the shadows under the desk.
Between his legs, Neku's hand has frozen in place. He doesn’t know if it’s Composer bullshit or his own shock that’s locked it in place, but his other hand didn’t seem to have any problems moving, letting the pencil slip from his fingers in surprise at Joshua’s voice.
“Was there something you wanted me to see?” he asks again, tilting his head at Neku’s reaction and seemingly unphased at being face level with Neku’s pantsless crotch, besides a small smirk, obviously enjoying himself.
"Josh."
(How long had the bastard even been there? Neku’s traitorous body flushes at the thought that Joshua had been watching the whole time, enjoying, or perhaps even subtly directing, the show. The small, pink tongue that wets Joshua's lips in consideration, evaluating the partially curtained wetness between Neku's legs before his sharp gaze returns upwards, only heightens the problem.)
Joshua pulls himself from under the desk, and Neku finds with growing panic that rather than staying in place to cover himself, his hand moves as if it’s under the control of someone else; moving aside and letting Joshua flow upwards like reversing water to settle sideways on his bare, spread lap. Joshua leans over his desk, humming curiously at his drawings, twirling the dropped pencil between slender fingers.
Neku still can’t bring himself to move as Josh leans down to look closer at the details, he’s hyper aware that Joshua’s rubbing against his bare crotch, texture of his rich prick jeans teasing his clit in a way that makes Neku bite the inside of his lip to avoid giving Josh the satisfaction of a noise.
“Very inspired Neku,” Joshua praises, though it’s layered with his usual mocking at Neku’s expense “I must say, it’s about time you showed me some proper respect. It’s a start.”
And very obviously, very deliberately, shifts his hips sideways to grind harder on Neku’s crotch.
“Using a god’s name in vain when you don’t need him, however… That needs to be punished.”
Neku knows Joshua’s known the whole time when he watches Josh slowly drag his eyes down his body to his still open legs. (How long? How many times? Just today? The past week? Or since that first idle daydream after the Wildkat incident had unravelled him?)
“Or, perhaps you do, and that’s why you called me?” Joshua's hand is creeping up his thigh. “Fingers weren’t enough? You needed something bigger?” A thumb teases the very tip of his stimulated clit. “Better?”
Neku’s still stubbornly refusing to make a noise even though the contact feels amazing, but Joshua doesn’t seem discouraged, if anything the amused glint in his eyes grows at Neku’s silence.
Neku's going to strangle him. He vividly pictures it in defiance.
“Did my shape back then disappoint you?” Joshua’s voice drops to a whisper, as if they’re sharing a secret, face moving in close to Neku’s own. His arms circle Neku’s shoulders like a net, dragging him in close. “Do you want to see more? What’s hiding under this facade of humanity? Foolish boy, so hungry for forbidden knowledge.”
On their own, Neku’s hands slide under Joshua’s shirt to press against his stomach, surprisingly solid for something that could move with the grace and fluidity of smoke, and Neku finds himself transfixed on the sliver of revealed skin as Joshua chuckles.
Joshua leans back towards the desk, dragging Neku with him by the arm slung over his shoulders. “I like this one.” He taps a finger against one of his sketches while Neku feels another slowly beginning to trace between the folds between his legs, but both of Joshua’s hands were—
“What are you doing here, Josh?” Neku asks at last, fighting to keep the wobble out of his voice. "Being almighty and ruling over the dead got boring? You had to come torture me instead?"
All of Joshua's touches pause, going inhumanely, stone-like still, and Neku holds back from shifting into his touch in the sudden absence of stimulation. He suspects it'd be like humping against a statue, if Josh even let him get that far.
Joshua turns those eyes back to him, the ones from the cafe, making Neku fail to hold back the smallest, weakest noise in surprise. That wasn't playing fair. That was playing even more dirty than sliding fingers through his folds while expecting an answer.
Neku turns the noise from his throat into a growl.
"I'm just here to pay my favourite little mortal a visit," Joshua says, all manufactured surprise and unconvincing hurt. It has to be a game, of some sort. One that Neku's going to lose unless he learns the rules, because Joshua never acts this way. He never emphasises the differences between them long, except to prove a point or coax Neku into following him down the path of godhood—not that he's been successful in it so far. Neku doesn't think he's been trying very hard, when he knows Neku doesn't want it—an obligatory, weightless query now, in case the answer has somehow changed unnoticed.
The hand that was between his legs has gained a double, both pressing down on his thighs to hold him still, preventing Neku from shifting to relieve the continued loss of pleasure.
Reminding him who's in control here.
“You’ve never ‘just’ done anything in your life,” Neku manages to get out, lightly peppered with a small amount of his usual, reserved-just-for-Joshua, annoyance.
"Incorrect," Joshua refutes crisply. "Yesterday, in fact, I swapped all of Wildkat's house blend out with Starbucks decaf 'just' to see if Mr. H would notice." He waits politely for Neku's response, but continues anyway when it's clear it's not coming. "He hasn't, if you were wondering."
Neku doesn’t get the chance to assure Joshua he wasn't, or voice his complete lack of interest in Joshua’s random pranks entirely, because his hands are moving on their own again, removing themselves from under Joshua’s clothes to rest on the arms of his chair instead. The lack of control over his own limbs causes a spike of panic to momentarily overpower his plateaued arousal, and Joshua demonstrates his blase attitude towards that as the chair slides backward with a wave.
Neku's legs flex and stand against his will. He finds himself moving through Joshua as if he wasn't there, to stand at the desk, leaning over it as his shirt is pushed up his chest until it bunches under his arms.
Following at a patient, self-assured pace behind him, Joshua traces a hand over the curve of his ass. Neku can't see, but it feels more like a claw, with talons meant to rend and tear. Against this show of inescapable might, his own body disregarding his command in favour of Joshua's, Neku is entirely powerless, and he finds himself inadvertently thinking about all the things Josh could do to him, the heat flooding his body coming out as a wordless, nervous swallow.
“Isn’t this what you wanted, Neku?” Joshua’s voice is low and hot as magma, trapping him against his desk as surely as the force controlling his limbs. “To have your virginity claimed by a god?”
Neku’s made to bend further, something almost like hands coming to restrain his legs against the legs of the desk, keeping him spread open no matter how much he tries to pull free. There's a cool grasp over his wrists as he's pushed down, and though Neku can't see the hands themselves, he can see his own flesh dip against their hold, firmly pinned in place.
(The powerlessness and anticipation bubbles in his guts, and Neku swallows again, trying for a defiant glare over his shoulder at Joshua, even though he’s not trying too hard to escape. He can see, from this position, Joshua's jeans still on, the outline of his erection. He could so very easily—)
Joshua chuckles, almost as if he found Neku’s attempt at defiance cute (as if it wasn’t so obviously token). “Well, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t take it, hm? Not when you've been so desperately begging me to for, oh… say, two weeks now?”
"N-no," Neku gasps, unclear himself on what exactly he's replying to.
"No, stop?" Joshua asks, something once again tracing its way between Neku's legs, cruelly slow to match the tone of his voice, "or no, take it?"
Neku drops his forehead to the table, trying to reason past the wave of hormones and the reflexive twitch brought on by Joshua's soft tease along his clit. He keeps his jaw clenched, holding any more words inside in case they're something he really shouldn't say out loud.
("It's not the first time I've had to endure your appetites, I may add." Joshua sounds close to irritable, not that Neku's really listening. "I mean goodness, Neku, the first time I demonstrated my abilities for you the response was nigh instantaneous! I should have known you wouldn't shoot, but really now, you can't blame a guy for having hopes.")
It would be so much easier to let Joshua make the decision for him, a part of Neku thinks to himself, wet and aroused to burning as Joshua natters on behind him.
("—And then, just when I think I'm free, there you are, dear and delectable, like clockwork. 'Here Josh, take my offering of my virgin hole, I saw a Tin Pin Slammer advertisement and missed you so unbearably I'm bruising my juicy little groin about it.’” The eyeroll is nearly audible as Joshua finishes his Neku impression. “Pleeeease. You'd think a smart thing like you would get over it eventually, but here we are; the two week mark of all my paperwork shelved, waiting out the hormone tsunami. My palms got sore three days in you know, but you still insisted on torturing me about it. All because you just had to peep, knowing I wasn't decent, taking advantage when I dropped the towel of my humanity as it were. Got yourself hot and bothered in my direction for it too, and I can only graciously look the other way so long. Naughty boy. You're lucky I'm doing you this favour, needy little thing that you are.")
Just let Joshua take him, and revel in the pleasure that would ensue. Joshua wants him, clear from the strain visible against denim, and the knowledge sparks shivery prickles over his exposed skin. He knows Joshua would make it feel good. He trusts him to be generous as a carnal playmate (and that's what this feels like; Joshua playing. With his body, feelings, and intimate fantasies). There's little reason to hold back except to protect his own vulnerability, the sensitive core of him that cries out for companionship even as there’s nothing it’s more terrified of.
And yet.
A soft, inquisitive sound replaces Joshua's voice, and something, a finger, Joshua's finger, interrupts and chases off the thoughts going nowhere, pressing through the folds of his entrance, slipping in so easily Neku laughs, surprised and nervous. It's different from fingering himself, and he takes a moment to quietly acclimate to the sensation, squirming around it and squeezing his eyes shut in relief when another one is added, taking the edge off the need eating away at him.
That must be all the permission Joshua wanted, because with a hum of consideration, he moves them. It's a relief to not have running commentary on Joshua's first foray into his cunt, praise be to whatever of Joshua's logical faculties made him finally shut the hell up.
Neku twists against the desk and the invisible hold as Joshua’s fingers start exploring him, dragging themselves through the warmth and slick to make his breath fog against his desk’s surface. Joshua had to be reading his mind, or his soul or something because he knows exactly where to press and bend and caress to make Neku’s eyes roll back into his head. His apprehension melts away with how flawlessly Joshua seems to know what he's doing, and how in being held down, he doesn't have to fumble about with inexperience, discovering a way to reciprocate or worry about the way he's holding himself.
“Feels good?” Joshua’s voice is smug. “I’ll bet your own fingers never felt like this,” he says, and they begin humming. Neku’s back instinctively arches as Joshua’s fingers turn into the physical manifestation of sound itself, pulsing along with an unknown tempo inside of him.
‘What else,’ his mind snatches, ‘what else can he do? What else can he be?’
“Unfortunately, Neku. I only offer visions of my Godly form to the most, ah, enthusiastic and devout of my followers. I suggest you start with worshipping me properly, if you want another peek.” Joshua hints, voice accompanied with the sound of his fingers thrusting into Neku’s body, adding an extra to stretch him wider.
If he hadn’t known by now that Josh was reading his mind, that proved it.
"Fuck you," he mouths, pleasure stealing his voice and leaving only the shape of it on his tongue.
Bent over his own desk, he has no idea what Joshua is asking of him, only that his fingers have suddenly turned infuriatingly inaccurate; barely skimming the pressure points in favour of being increasingly frustrating, and Neku finds his body is still responding, trying to direct and wiggle Joshua's fingers to the right places.
Despite himself, Neku doesn't really want it to stop, as long as Joshua doesn't make him admit it.
“You know, Neku, without some incentive I’m not exactly feeling motivated to make you feel good.” Joshua announces as his finger movements become almost torturously slow and shallow. “How about some lovely moans, dear partner? I’ll even take some gasps, something that tells me how much you’re enjoying this.”
Neku grinds his teeth. Of course. Of course. For fuck's sake. Trust Joshua to go right for that stray thought and bank Neku's enjoyment on it. Joshua pulls his fingers out, but Neku isn’t left empty for long. The hands now settling, warm and rubbing circles into his hip, are quickly made up for, one delving back into his cunt as if it’d had been there the whole time.
Joshua’s chest presses against his back as he leans down to Neku’s ear. “And don’t try to say you aren’t. Your body can’t lie to me, Neku, I know you are,” followed by an almost cruel flex of those inhuman fingers straight into a cluster of nerves that made a choked “ah-” slip out before Neku could stop it.
Clawing against the fake wood textures, Neku is powerless, helplessly aroused as Josh keeps dragging his inhuman, humming fingers against that same spot repeatedly, as if he had all the time in the world to make Neku submit.
It could have been seconds. It could have been hours, Neku’s not quite sure how long he’s been floating in this frustrated, inescapably aroused headspace, trapped and completely at Joshua’s mercy. If he wasn’t so bent on being infuriating, it would be so hot.
“You only have to say two little words Neku.” Joshua coaxes behind him, voice deepening and dividing, gaining the reverb of a concert hall, the hum of an orchestra as the warm, solid hands settled on either side of his hips give an encouraging squeeze. “You know what I am, little mortal. Call me properly and claim your reward.”
“M… My Lord” Neku gasps, almost a whispered, desperate prayer against his desk, to the Godly being behind him, the restraints melting away like smoke on the wind. The weight of Joshua’s eyes on him keeps him pinned, pliant as those fingers start to move again, deadly in their accuracy, pulling more pleas and moans and begging from his lips.
"That's right," says the choir from behind him.
Joshua unfolds, shifting lights and writhing shapes cast as a shadow on the wall, a reflection on the surface of his desk. Joshua isn’t even trying to keep a humanoid silhouette, constantly changing and reforming, Neku’s mind feels like it’s cracking trying to comprehend him, so he closes his eyes and lets himself feel Josh, his presence, his oppressive power, instead.
There’s another hand squeezing his ass as he rocks against the desk from the force of Joshua fingering him, and Neku chokes on his pleas as fingers suddenly push inside his ass without time to do more than clench around them, and he’s stuffed so fullyesplease.
“Feel me claim you,” the incomprehensible horror behind him whispers, the furniture in Neku’s room rattling in time with his words, bleeding the command out alongside him, three fingers turning into four, long and thin, reaching up inside him almost too deep, too many, on the threadbare line between pleasure and pain. “Place my hands and prints in places that no one else can dream to reach, my fingerprints will brand you mine, my dear one, forevermore and no one else’s. Let me dip into the pond of your soul again, feel you cling to my fingers like when I deposited you back in the world of the living.”
It takes a few tries before Neku can respond, working his jaw until he manages to pant “I’m not the only one,” in between desperate keens. “Did you. Dip your fingers into Beat, and Shiki too?”
Joshua’s lack of response is a clear dismissal, and Neku grasps at half-thoughts, directing lighthearted judgements at Joshua for getting so many of his death-god appendages in an unknown quantity of people. Neku chides him in his head, the idea not worth the effort of speaking: ‘I thought what we had was special.’
Joshua continues to ignore him. He’s very nearly got a full hand inside Neku’s cunt, and clearly intending to work his way there with his ass, and Neku doesn’t know how much more ‘branded’ he can get; a normal, human lover couldn’t give him this. Couldn’t fill Neku’s limbs and veins with the heavy weight of power, this addictive helplessness under something so much Grander than he was, trusting only that sex was all He wanted, and if he was lucky, letting Neku cum too.
“Sing for me, beloved.” Joshua’s hands are moving faster, almost inhuman in speed, and Neku can barely catch his breath for his moans, an ache digging into his hips where they’re knocking painfully against the edge of his desk. His body is throbbing and tingling, and he’s certain Josh is cheating now, not just with his fingers but Neku’s own body, allowing it to stretch so he can fit, but barely, keeping the kiss of the burn as he’s forced to stretch around those infuriating (butyespleasemore) fingers.
“Let me caress the softness inside you once more, like I did when you were my newlydead with your bouquet of a gun, staring at me from down the aisle when my bullet kissed your heart,” Joshua says, while pressing his lips to the skin between Neku’s shoulderblades, ethereal lips teasing at hips, throat, the ring finger of his left hand, mouthing a garter banding his thigh.
Kissing the scar over his heart.
Hands fully slip inside him after a moment more of resistance from Neku’s body. Joshua’s form ripples in pleasure at the sight, judging by the shadows Neku can see when he flickers his eyes open. “I’ll treat you so lovely with velvet gloves, handle your soul with the most tender, sensual care, I promise.”
The wrists twisting inside him, in ways that shouldn’t be anatomically possible but with a surprising amount of the promised gentleness, trigger a full body tremble out of Neku. Joshua slowly pushes him further and further towards orgasm, more hands appearing out of the ether to caress his skin, tracing their spectral fingers down his spine and contrasting with the warmth of Joshua’s physical hands on his hips keeping him steady.
“Can’t, keep your hands off me, huh?” Neku pants, as more appear, flicking at his clit and pinching at nipples rubbed hard by contact with the surface of his desk, before moving to grope and massage into the softness of his breasts. “Be nice if you asked, first,” his tone and lack of fight softening the accusation in his words.
“Does an owner have to request permission of things that rightfully belong to them?” Joshua retorts, hands all over and inside his body turning rough to prove his point. Neku’s sure he’s going to be bruised at the end of this, but can’t bring himself to particularly care as long as Josh keeps making him feel this good.
When Neku cums, it’s with the sudden snapping of a taut string, an all-at-once rush tumbling him over the edge. Tensing around Joshua’s hands, tingling with the fullness as his peak washes over him, body shuddering against his desk to the point his stationary rattles in its holders as Joshua’s hands continue to play him through his orgasm.
Neku tries to hold back his whine when Joshua’s hands pull out, leaving him catching his breath as the rest of them, gentler now, stroke and pet his skin until the trembling in his legs stops and he gets used to the sudden emptiness.
He only gets a minute longer of tired afterglow, slung over his desk like a tossed strand of wet pasta, when those spectral hands start to move him again, pulling him backwards and upwards, he realises with a half-functioning thought, into Joshua’s lap where he can see the impression of what looks like a generously (if inhumanly) sized erection.
“I’ve answered your prayer, little mortal, but, you know the gods don’t give anything away for free. It’s time I take my offering from you.” Joshua’s hands pull Neku down, close enough that the tip of that incomprehensible cock teases itself just barely inside Neku’s still twitching entrance.
Neku’s hiss at the tingle of overstimulation is hidden in a sudden, sharp inhale, watching Joshua slowly make him sink down lower, hands ending their support and letting gravity and Neku’s tired legs do most of the work of him impaling himself on Joshua’s dick.
It takes his mind a moment to catch up, to realise: Joshua’s cock isn’t stopping. Barely a third in and he’s already hit about the depth of even Neku’s biggest toys, lighting his body from the inside out.
“You’re gonna. Burst through my stomach.” Neku blurts, brain lacking a filter in its fascination with watching the way his body expands around Joshua entering him.
“Trust your partner. It’s going to be a tight squeeze in, but I’ll fit. I’d never harm my favourite this way.” Joshua promises, in that voice that was a hymn, a warm rumble of thunder that comforts Neku as much as it intimidates, as the massive being behind him continues slowly forcing himself deeper into Neku’s body.
The elasticity that had come from being fisted seemed to have faded, Neku groaning as Josh finally breached further than he’s ever had anything inside him before, panting from his earlier exertion and the effort of not resisting or fighting this unknown intrusion.
“What… a way to lose your virginity” he quips, ignoring the prick of overstimulated tears at the corners of his eyes, because what else can he do when he’s helpless in the grip of a god who’s decided that Neku is His?
“It’s always been mine for the taking, hasn’t it?” Joshua hums, lifting Neku like a doll. “You are mine, after all. So, something like your virginity is mine to take as I wish.” Almost casually, Joshua pulls him back down onto his dick, the breath rushing out of Neku, pushed out of him as his body accommodates the length and girth displacing his organs around it.
His body is humming, everything but pleasure being dampened under the vibrations under his skin; even the ache and pain of Joshua’s penetration was converted into pleasure that burned.
“Almost to the womb, now. Just a little further, lovely Neku.” A hand cards fingers gently through Neku’s hair, an attempt at distracting him from the intrusion of such a queasy place. “You’re doing well.”
Neku clings to the praise as he takes a measured breath, nails digging into whatever of Joshua he can reach as the tears finally broke, flowing down his face. It’s just a gesture of the pleasure crashing through his body, but Josh still pauses for a moment to look at them, considering.
—Then leans in and licks up one of the tears with a tongue that leaves a stripe of static in its wake instead of saliva.
“It’s always interesting, all the ways the human body decides to deal with too much of something,” Joshua comments idly, licking at his lips for the residue of salt on his tongue.
“You’re. So weird,” Neku pants, ignoring the other tear still on his face as his body finally gives in to Joshua’s pushing, and Neku looks down to see the glow of Joshua’s dick shining through his stomach, just how deep he truly was.
Dazed, he rubs a hand over that glow, can feel the hard bump of Joshua inside him through his skin, and a gnawing hunger; Joshua was deep enough, but Neku was missing the burn from earlier, being stretched to his body’s limits.
If only Josh was a bit. Bigger.
“Really?” Joshua asks, incredulous and disbelieving, and even his voice has returned to the pitch that Neku knows so well, out of place on such an incomprehensible creature, and Neku feels his face grow hot under Joshua’s disbelieving gaze. “You really are an insatiable little thing, aren’t you?”
“I know what I like,” Neku fires back, somewhat defensive. Sure, he’s inexperienced and probably in over his head, but he hasn’t backed down yet, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to now, that what he wanted was so close in reach. Neku puts both hands over the glow inside him, and presses against it tight for emphasis.
“Yes, yes I can see that,” Joshua chuckles, hand coming to gently caress his cheek with a warmth that felt less like body heat, and more like warm water in the shape of a hand. “Put away that pout, Neku, and let me take care of you.”
Joshua seems to swell, in a blink he’s suddenly cascading over Neku like a wave, stretching beyond the boundaries of Neku’s room and all he can do is cling to what little of Joshua remained solid under him, solid to part him; in the eye of this maelstrom of soul.
A full-body shudder. Neku is suddenly aware of just how truly, terribly small and fragile he was, cradled in the hands of this behemoth like a doll, a bug, this thing that could crush him without thought or remorse, and his body throbs with need around the cock still inside him.
So close together, another consciousness blooms into his awareness, the Pact between them igniting like a fuse. Neku is small in comparison, he sees, in flashes of comprehension and disjointed fragments. Small enough to be frustratingly understimulating, in the grounds of the purely physical. In this form, Joshua is meant for something else, something more like him.
(He ignores the suggestion that this is temporary, that Neku is meant for higher things, to unfold into something as grand and terrible as the being lapping at his thoughts and breaching his womb.)
They’re not interfacing correctly for Joshua to finish, despite the way tears are streaming down Neku’s cheeks anew, his body tensing and pulsing with the divine energy taken inside it. Joshua’s psyche is brushing up against his, asking him for permission for something incomprehensible, something beyond what Neku can grasp, but he’s promising it’ll be good, wants to have this strange, alien coupling with Neku. The assurance that he’ll be careful follows, bafflingly inexact in what that means and why he needed to give it, but Neku only fires back that he thought he was Joshua’s to take, and gains the sense that something beyond his perception has latched itself onto him, pierced mindsoulbody and—
Joshua starts to thrust, or at least it’s the impression of it, and Neku’s head jerks back as his hips roll in response, and it hurts so good, Joshua so deep and rubbing directly against the walls of his womb, pain only registering as a pleasurable inferno.
“Are you enjoying your taste of the apple, little Eve?”
Joshua’s voice is breathless, and Neku feels countless eyes staring; at him, out of him, through him, from every angle, and he keens mindlessly Lord, Lord, Lord, Divine One and his nerves scream in reward as pleasure strikes him like lightning for every word of worship from his lips.
Neku's head lolls to the side, held up, like the rest of him, only by the support of Joshua's inescapable omnipresence around him. There's a warmth at his back and breath in his hair, and the light-made-solid coalescing around him trembles in restraint.
Blinking, he struggles to pay attention, exhausted but inadvisably inquisitive, because there's a static-charge build rising, something powerful gathering with himself in the epicentre, striking off him like steel to flint. Joshua is racing through his veins, conducting him like an orchestra, tugging on his nerves to make him sing.
Joshua hasn't cum yet, he realises, forcing himself to take air into his lungs at his God’s bidding, lungfuls of said god wisping around him, partake, eat of my flesh, worship me. This must be getting close.
The pressure on him increases, bearing down from all sides of this extra-dimensional space he can't comprehend, Joshua's grip on him tightening even as he's forced impossibly wider, lanced into deeper.
It’s claiming; Joshua seeking out all of Neku’s secrets, all of the tunnels of his body and igniting them all with his light, there’s nowhere that isn’t his, no shadows for doubt to hide as Joshua sears them away. There’s nothing Neku could hide from him, and no reason to try, nothing the encroaching god doesn’t love, flaws and all, with consuming fervour. Everything he is; also now Joshua’s. Every thought and atom and emotion, every firing synapse and shred of Imagination, he’d hand over gladly if it wasn’t already being greedily pulled from him, Joshua finally traversing that secret garden he’d lamented being locked out of, ravenously coveting Neku down to incremental components he wasn’t aware he had.
The first thing he feels, reorienting briefly to his own awareness, is that Joshua's release burns. Holy, liquid fire scorches his insides as his limbs spasm and shake. It's quickly overtaken by sheer pleasure, a radiating, obliterating wave emanating from the being wrapped around and stuffed inside him. Neku no longer has a body, as far as he's concerned. He's nothing but the concept of ecstasy itself, the throes of divine rapture, taken from overstimulated to far past mortal orgasm.
There’s supernovas behind his eyes, his limbs have become planets and his veins galaxies and auroras that span infinitely across Joshua’s dimensions, and Neku’s falling to the earth that is Shibuya as something slowly pulls his consciousness from the heavens back into his body. He wasn’t meant to endure this, but Joshua has him, reigning him gently back in and folding protectively around him until the full breadth of the universe stops trying to claim residence in his body.
He can't complain about the loss when Joshua moves to slip himself out, but he doesn't need to anyway. The being still twinned and reverberating through every molecule of his unresponsive body stills at his half-aware thought, and Neku has the impression of a kiss being whispered into his very soul. The only response he's able to give comes in the form of a gurgling sound he doesn't have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed about, still blissed out on the overwhelming energy given off by the Composer's peak.
"That good, hmm?" Joshua asks, voice returning to its familiar pitch, and Neku can't even fault him for being smug about it. 'Good' doesn't begin to cut it. 'Unreal' and 'impossible' don't scratch the surface.
He can have this one; Neku's fight has been completely fucked out of him, his irrepressible curiosity satisfied.
"Excellent, then maybe we can both get some work done now?"
Neku doesn't understand the question, but the sense that something is shifting and reconstituting itself around him had better not mean Joshua is thinking of leaving.
"You're a hopeless distraction, I hope you know." The form Neku is pressed against ripples in a sigh before settling back down, Joshua giving in to Neku's unspoken wants to pillow Neku’s head on something that could almost resemble breasts, if Joshua had a human body. He’s closer to resembling it than he has been, at any rate. Breasts it is, then. "Fine. But if you start this up again tomorrow, so help me, I'm knocking you back into the UG where 'working hard' can have a more… enjoyable resolution."
Neku just hums, noncommittal, as his fingers trail through Joshua’s mass, mind lazily chewing on the conflicting sensory information as the tingling slowly left his legs and crotch; solid enough to lie on, but fluid enough for Neku to drag his fingers through him like water.
A large hand settles on his back and he can tell without looking that Joshua’s eyes are fondly observing him.
Neku wants this. But he wants more than casual, only when he’s being a nuisance Josh can’t ignore sex. Wants the aura of Joshua’s nonconformity wrapped around him like a blanket to become so familiar it stops being odd, to come home to Joshua’s form stretched over the walls, house filled constantly with the music that seemed to follow Joshua around like a character from a movie. Joshua, both human and monster in one, with nothing to hide from him in the same way he had nothing to hide from Joshua.
“Coffee,” slips out of Neku’s mouth, still lagging behind his usual filter, and clearly there was no thought behind it, because even Joshua, omnipotent, is staring at him with light confusion waiting for him to elaborate.
“Sometime next week. We’ll go out for coffee. A date.” Neku talks like it’s a done deal, that Joshua will be there, because why wouldn’t he be? Josh had made it clear that Neku was his, but he was in for a shock if he thought that didn’t make him Neku’s as well.
The thing that is taking up Joshua’s space, that is Joshua, is quiet. As if it can’t quite believe Neku’s audacity at laying claim over it. But there’s a pleased hum that is echoed across their shared synapses, of Neku taking ownership. Claiming in turn.
“Very well. A date then. We can talk about it after a nap.” he eventually concedes, as if he’s the one doing Neku a favour by agreeing, and Neku can’t quite stifle his derisive snort at that.
But he’ll let Josh shield himself for now. It won’t stop Neku from pointing out he’s an asshole, or cheating with his Composer bullshit, or even just arguing, because arguing with Josh was entertaining in its own right and the insights he gained, while frustrating, were often invaluable.
“Neku, you’re thinking an awful lot for someone trying to go to sleep,” Joshua hints dryly.
Neku deliberately lets his weight settle heavier on Josh, relaxing into his form like the weirdest sentient waterbed-and-nightlight two-in-one, and letting the spinning nebulas under his skin drift him off to sleep, Joshua’s hand protectively, possessively, on his back.
Pandora’s box cradles him to sleep in the hope he’d found from climbing inside it, the satisfaction in having solved its mystery. From how very accommodating it’s being, it must have liked being in him too.