Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10453167.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      真女神転生IV_FINAL_|_Shin_Megami_Tensei_IV:_Apocalypse
  Relationship:
      Hallelujah/Nanashi
  Character:
      Hallelujah_(Shin_Megami_Tensei), Nanashi_(Shin_Megami_Tensei_IV
      Apocalypse)
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Flashbacks, Crossdressing, Dom/sub_Undertones,
      Lace_Panties, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Teasing, Fruit, Trust, Light
      Masochism, Rimming, Blow_Jobs, Figging, Restraints, Hand_Jobs, Fluff_and
      Humor, Porn_with_Feelings, Spoilers, Peace, Complete
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-03-26 Words: 7250
****** The Perks of Having A Black Card ******
by shinigami_yumi
Summary
     Nanashi hasn't seen his boyfriend since they parted ways after their
     battle with YHVH. But the Ashura-kai don't like Hunters, especially
     not the Messiah "hogging their boss' limelight." Fortunately, he's
     got a fortune in Macca, a Black Card and a plan.
      
     (Marked underage because they're 15 in the game)
Notes
     Because light!Nanashi may be mostly a nice person, but he's
     definitely no goody-two-shoes. And you can't tell me they gave us
     that goth armour set for any reason but this. ;)
See the end of the work for more notes
The problem with being a soldier, Nanashi thinks, is that peace means
unemployment. Sure, there are still demons to keep in line, and he really
doesn't miss all the chaos and destruction that came after God's Plan, but
he'll admit he's bored. Flynn probably feels the same, even if they're taking
all the most dangerous jobs available. After all, once you've beaten God off
His throne, there's really not much of a challenge left in the world.
To make matters worse, he hasn't seen hide nor hair of his boyfriend lately. Of
course, that's hardly Hallelujah's fault. Even with everyone working together,
there's just so much to rebuild in Tokyo, and the fact remains that they're
running out of resources. Clean water is the most pressing shortage, and
although they can get it from Mikado now, there's still the problem of
distribution.
More and more people are moving above the Ceiling now that there are no more
angels to stop them, but that, too, is slow — even with the sharing of Tokyo's
modern technology, it'll take time to build enough homes to accommodate
everyone. In fact, Flynn and Gaston have suggested building an entirely new
settlement for the migrants because there isn't enough space in the existing
city and villages for a properly planned development. That means expanding into
demon territory, and while it is unlikely that they'll run into any demons even
as strong as those in some parts of Tokyo, he and Flynn quickly volunteered to
lead the siting expedition — it's something new to do, at least.
But that's next week.
Today… today he's bored.
The most interesting job on the list was the chef experimenting with a
Caladrius herbal soup, and he only took it for the challenge of delivering the
fragile birds in almost-one piece — something about one whole bird per pot of
soup being the nutritional ideal.
And he misses Hallelujah, in more ways than one, but the Ashura-kai have no
love to lose for Hunters, especially the Messiah "hogging their boss'
limelight," despite Hallelujah's best efforts to disabuse them of the notion,
and would probably see their relationship as undermining Hallelujah's authority
if they knew, so he can't even visit.
Well, Nanashi can't visit.
Fortunately, he's got a fortune in Macca, a Black Card and a plan.
 
The best thing about luxury, members-only shops, Nanashi decides, is that they
really know what they're doing, and they never ask any questions. By the time
they're finished with his hair and make-up, he doesn't even recognize the face
in the mirror.
Fujiwara and Skins really should have hired them for that infiltration mission
to Mikado — their work could probably have fooled even Merkabah.
He's careful to walk daintily up to the front entrance of Roppongi Hills — he
needs to look harmless, after all. He doubts he'll be recognized —the last time
they saw him, he didn't even have the same eye colour— but now he needs to
convince them to let a stranger in to see their boss, and after what happened
with the last two, they're understandably a little overprotective.
"Stop right there, missy." Two burly guards intercept him, and he has to
consciously keep his guard down. "This area's off-limits. Ashura-kai only. You
can't be here."
Pitching his voice as high as he can and speaking softly to sound more docile,
he bats fake lashes up at them. "But I need to give these to your boss…" He
holds up the basket of fruit. "A gift from Mikado."
Without sunlight, they can't grow much in Tokyo, so no one born below the
Ceiling after God's Plan has ever tasted any fruits and vegetables, and they
are but a distant memory for the older survivors. Now that he's spent more time
in Mikado, he finally understands Gaston and Navarre's reactions to their meals
before — all the food up there tastes amazing. But Hallelujah hasn't had the
time to even drop by Kinshicho, let alone make a trip up, and given the limited
supply because food production hasn't yet caught up to the new demand, the few
items that make it down here are quickly snapped up luxuries.
The guards eye the fruits suspiciously — they've never seen anything like them
before either, and that's probably a good thing — if they knew how much the
right buyer would pay for them, he's sure they'd try to take it from him by
force.
"Courtesy of Tokyo's Messiah," he adds — as opposed to Mikado's, that is. Even
if they don't like him, they can at least be sure he won't try to poison their
new leader. "He said he'd inform your boss that I'm coming." And he had sent
Hallelujah a text earlier, saying he was sending someone over with a gift —he
didn't want to ruin the surprise, after all— but he's not sure whether the
information has trickled down yet.
Predictably, though, they cross their arms and turn their noses up. "Hmph. The
least he could do is come personally," scoffs the first.
"Too good to even show his sincerity now that he's got his own statue up there,
huh," sneers the second.
Clearly, by their books, he can't do anything right — can't come himself, can't
send someone else, can't let Hallelujah be the one to make the trip… It's
ridiculous, and if he didn't care about jeopardising all of Hallelujah's
rebuilding efforts, he'd tell them to go fuck themselves.
"Ah, no, it's not like that… The Messiah is busy scouting sites for the new
settlement, and I—" He lowers his gaze shyly. "I begged— I mean volunteered to
deliver it."
The guards exchange glances. "All right then, you can leave it with us. We'll
see that it gets to him."
"Eh?" He affects a look of crushed dismay. It's not pretense per se, but the
expression feels terribly foreign on his facial muscles. "I— W—won't you let me
see him? E—even just a glance…" He bows to request the favour. "Please,
misters, I— I only volunteered and got all dressed up like this because I
thought I'd get to meet him, the real Champion of Tokyo." He clasps his hands
in a show of nerves, glances up demurely through the lashes. "I— I mean, sure,
the Messiahs beat all the bad guys, but… it's the Ashura-kai that repaired my
room after Armageddon, that secured my district and got things up and running
again. You guys are the ones restoring our daily lives. That's why your boss is
my hero," and Hallelujah wouldn't be his boyfriend if he had to fake the
adoring gush and sparkle. "A—and also…" He looks away, feigning embarrassment.
"I heard he's really handsome… Can't I at least give this to him in person?"
The guards exchange glances again, looking a bit flustered as they scratch
their heads.
"Aww shucks, miss…" mumbles the first.
"W—well…" The second falters. "Wh—when you put it that way…"
Nanashi hides a smirk — he's got them. Flattery will get you everywhere in the
Ashura-kai these days — most of them still dream longingly of their gang's
former prestige and influence, and no one seems to appreciate their not-so-
glorious rebuilding work as much as they should.
"Please…?" Now to drive in the final nail. "You can escort me up and back.
It'll only be a minute!"
They look at each other a third time, the second shrugs, and the first runs a
hand through his hair with a put upon sigh.
"Ugh, fine, fine… Don't move. Gimme a minute."
Swiping a key card into the reader by the door, he vanishes inside, and Nanashi
makes a show of fidgeting nervously, twirling his hair and smoothing out his
ruffled dress as the second guard keeps watch. In truth, the disguise isn't the
most comfortable, and the seconds drag on as he resists the unbecoming urge to
scratch. To distract himself, he fixes the fruit basket — the peaches and
cherries have moved in transit, so he rearranges them properly around the
melon.
After what feels like forever, the door opens and the first guard sticks his
head out. "All right, miss, your story checks out, so come along now. Don't
leave my side and don't touch anything, got it?"
"Yeah!" He beams sunnily and hurries after the man with a skip in his step.
                                   ■□■□■□■□
Hallelujah used to think leading the Ashura-kai would be cool. Challenging
—it's such a big organization, after all— but cool. Abe and Tayama even made it
look easy — charm or beat everyone into getting in line, maintain the system
and live the high life.
The reality is So. Much. Less. Glamorous.
Sure, he sometimes has to go out on the streets and flex some half-demon muscle
to get all the members and demons on board with the new order, but ninety
percent of the job is boring, unglamorous and totally uncool paperwork.
Glaring at the undiminished stack of documents on his desk in the off-chance
that they might process themselves, he sighs tiredly.
Sometimes, he thoroughly regrets signing up for this shit.
He barely even has a life anymore, much less the high life. He hasn't even had
the time to visit his boyfriend, and he still can't get the guys to stop giving
Nanashi the stink eye for "stealing his thunder," as if there was ever anything
to steal.
Nanashi beat God, for fuck's sake. How do you even top that?
If anything, Nanashi's the one living the high life. He gets to go gallivanting
around Mikado, while Hallelujah sits here dotting I's, crossing T's and signing
off on papers, and send him souvenirs to rub in just how much he's missing out.
Of course, he doesn't actually believe that's Nanashi's intention at all —it's
sweet that Nanashi wants to share nice things— but some days, Hallelujah
resents everything.
A knock sounds at his door, and he smiles — Nanashi said he's sending someone
over with fruits from Mikado this time, and food is one of Hallelujah's
favourite gifts from above the Ceiling — not only is it fresh, new and
incomparably delicious, but the experience of eating it is also unaffected by
not personally being in Mikado.
"Come in," he calls, pressing a switch under his desk to unlock the door as he
signs another approval request.
The door opens. "Sorry to disturb you, Boss, but she insisted on making sure
you received it personally."
Fair enough, considering the price even one piece is rumoured to fetch among
discerning gourmets. Even carrying the stuff here is risking life and limb.
"Thank you," he says, setting his pen down and looking up as a girl with blond
highlights in black curls tied up in pigtails approaches his desk with Todo,
one of the guys on guard duty today, close behind. A decorative golden rose
obscures her left eye, and her make-up matches the wine red ribbons on her dark
green and white ruffled dress with gold detail.
"Compliments of Tokyo's Messiah," she says, bowing, and something about her
voice… but then she sets the basket down on his desk, and his eyes bug out.
Holy shit, Leader! Barely anyone would hesitate to gut a man for the amount of
Macca they could sell this basket for, and he didn't think anyone but Nanashi
would have the guts to carry this much—
His brain screeches to a halt.
Wait. He glances up as the "girl" straightens, stares, frozen in shock, as
"she" winks and adds, "I'm a huge fan of yours, sir," with that sly smirk he'd
recognize anywhere.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He's on his feet before he even registers standing to gape at the matching
stockings on shapely, well-toned legs, and he has to swallow to moisten his
throat before speaking.
"C—could you excuse us, Todo?"
It occurs to him that he should probably make up an excuse for the sake of
propriety, but he doesn't think he'd be believed — he can't even tear his eyes
away from "her."
"Oh! Of course, Boss!" The man gives him a thumbs up and sprints for the door.
"I'll make sure you're not disturbed!"
No sooner has the door clicked shut and the lock engaged than Nanashi circles
the desk with predatory grace to sidle up to him and wind one arm around his
neck.
"Someone's missed me," Nanashi murmurs, a hand cupping the bulge in
Hallelujah's pants, and fuck yeah, he hasn't been so turned on since their
first time, not that he doesn't always want his boyfriend.
He hauls the other close, pressing their bodies together for a kiss, and
Nanashi doesn't vie for dominance this time, allows Hallelujah to plunder his
mouth. The tinted sweetness of his lips and the alluring cloud of musky floral
perfume are sexier than they have any right to be, and when Hallelujah opens
his eyes as they part, he realizes he's already shifted.
"So excited," Nanashi teases with a gentle push, and he falls back into his
chair, unresisting.
"What the hell, Leader?"
The other cocks his head. "Well, it worked. I'm here."
And he shouldn't be surprised, really — this is exactly the kind of stunt
Nanashi would pull. His boyfriend is nothing if not brazen, had been from the
start.
He's on his fourth drink when Nanashi finds him at the Association bar in
Shibuya, still agonising over apologising for punching Gaston in the face, and
he doesn't ask how the other knows — it's not a difficult educated guess to
make. He only smiles wryly as Nanashi sits down beside him and orders a drink.
One of the upsides —or downsides, depending on one's perspective— of a hybrid
metabolism is that alcohol does little but warm him up a bit, so at least he
won't shift or do anything unusually foolish.
He's already sent Nanashi the usual string of embarrassing texts anyway — he
can hardly outdo himself tonight.
Like with him, the bartender doesn't ask any questions — with the current state
of the world, they've got bigger problems to worry about than underage
drinking, and he's been told nobody cared before God's Plan either.
"I don't think you did anything wrong," Nanashi says without preamble as he
takes a sip of the fizzy green liquid in his glass, and now Hallelujah just
feels bad for making their Leader trek all the way out here to comfort him over
his pathetic insecurities.
"Leader, why did you even bring me along?" he mumbles miserably into his own
glass, and Nanashi turns.
"Hm?"
"I mean, you know…? Like, what if I am spying on you for the Ashura-kai?"
"Are you?"
"N—no! I haven't told them anything! Honest!"
Nanashi shrugs. "Not like I have anything to hide."
"Oh." He turns back to his drink with a strange sense of disappointment, but
then suddenly, Nanashi is really close, and his heart races as a finger strokes
down his cheek to turn his chin till he's facing the other again.
"Because you're really cute," Nanashi says, perfectly serious, and it takes a
moment, but when it sinks in, his cheeks blaze.
"Th—that's it…?"
"Mm. There's no point in lying. You know as well as I do that I don't keep you
around for the firepower."
Ouch. It's one thing to know it, but to hear it from their Leader directly…
"Bro, that's… brutal." Hell, his eyes are stinging.
"I didn't say you're useless." Nanashi rolls his eyes. "I like you. You're
helpful. And I love it when you put Gaston and Navarre in their places."
"O—oh…" And now he's back to blushing again — his heart can't take this mood
whiplash.
"And… ah, what was I saying?"
He looks up in question to find them mere inches apart, and he has a moment to
think that was deliberate before—
"Oh, right. You're really cute."
Nanashi kisses him.
The skirt fluffs up when Nanashi twirls around to snag a small red fruit from
the basket and press it to his lips in offering. He takes a bite without
thinking, and it's delicious, but he finds he prefers the vaguely similar taste
of Nanashi's lips. As if reading his mind, Nanashi leans in to bite the other
side and lick up the juice that spills between their lips.
Shit, he wants—
Again, Nanashi beats him to the idea, fingers already deftly undoing the
fastenings on his pants, and he almost chokes on the fruit's pit when a warm
hand wraps around his cock.
"Don't swallow that," Nanashi chides in a tone that brings to mind all the
other things he could be swallowing before taking the seed from his mouth in a
kiss and dropping it into the nearby bin. "Want another cherry?"
But he can only moan as he thrusts into the firm strokes of his lover's hand,
and he's sure half the reason he's crazy about the other is because Nanashi can
play him better than Krishna plays the flute, but that's probably irrelevant to
their victory or the fruit basket on the desk.
"Right. No." Nanashi grins mischievously. "You want this."
He drops to his knees between Hallelujah's, fits his glossy lips over the head
and sucks, and even if this weren't the first time their positions have been
reversed, that wicked glint in his eye and the sensation of—
"Shit, Leader, I— Hngh!!"
Gasping for breath as he blinks the haloed lights out of his vision, he
realizes he's left claw marks in the arms of his chair, and Nanashi is licking
his lips with a satisfied smirk. He's missed a few drops by the corner, though,
and Hallelujah tugs on the hands resting on his thighs as he shifts back.
"You don't have to keep shifting back, you know." Nanashi stands and laughs as
Hallelujah lifts him into his lap on the chair, kisses back when Hallelujah
cleans the stray drops off with his tongue. "You're attractive either way."
The words make him blush — he's convinced Nanashi is still the only one who
thinks so.
Nanashi bodily presses him into the wall, and the demanding kiss is dizzying,
adrenaline. He's sure the other can feel his pulse hammering where his wrists
are pinned down, and he's burning up from the contact — too many clothes. When
their hips meet, the jolt of pleasure has him arching, writhing for more
friction, and he finds the hot-cold burst of strength to push off, to reverse
their positions.
The flip knocks the breath from Nanashi's lungs, but he only grins, feral,
doesn't struggle. "Oh, you've been bad," he sighs, wrapping his legs around
Hallelujah's waist to draw him in. "All this time… We might have handed Odin
his ass with your help, and you kept it from us. I should punish you."
Hallelujah freezes, noticing his clawed white hands. "S—sorry." He lets go of
Nanashi's wrists. "I didn't want you to know. Let me just—"
"What, continue living a lie?" Green eyes are piercing, and he looks away.
"I didn't mean to lie to you," but he hasn't forgotten "Monster! Monster!" back
before he learned how to hide. He's strong, so they can't hurt him —not
physically, at least— so they learned to leave him alone, to run away.
"Hallelujah."
He glances up, and Nanashi winds strong arms around his neck, expression dead
serious.
"If you stop now, I'll really have to punish you."
The other captures his lips again, and he's kissing back before his brain has
even caught up.
"P—punish…?" he manages when they break for air — he can't think, can't
believe. He hasn't even shifted back yet. "Y—you don't—"
"Ooh, Dagda has some good ideas for a change," Nanashi interjects, a sly glint
in his eyes. "You should get us to the bed before I try them."
And Hallelujah doesn't think he's ever moved so quickly before.
"I don't know why you wouldn't think so," Nanashi continues, dragging him from
his reverie. "Your dad was pretty hot, too. I bet you'd rock those heels."
"Ugh, Leader!" he groans, rubbing his goosebumps away as the other laughs.
"Don't say stuff like that!"
If it hit a little too close to the mark, it only makes it more disturbing, and
he needs to change the subject.
Sliding his hand up Nanashi's thigh to push the ruffled skirt and petticoat
back, he marvels at the suspenders holding striped stockings up on creamy fair
skin. "Where did you even find this outfit?" He's never seen the girls they
know wear anything like this.
"Ginza." Nanashi tugs the basket closer and offers him a bigger, pale-coloured
fruit — sweet and fragrant when he takes a bite. "Gotta love those Black Card
shops."
He chokes and splutters. "Y—you bought this?! At Black Card prices?! L—Leader!"
"You don't think it's worth it? Bat an eyelash, stroke some," Nanashi drops his
gaze, "egos, and your guards were so happy to escort me to your office. Come to
think of it, that could be a security hazard, Boss."
"Yeah…" He scratches his head as Nanashi takes a bite of the fruit for himself,
then— "Wait." As his lover's words replay in his head, he feels a surge of
intense, irrational jealousy. "Y—you didn't…?"
Snickering, Nanashi offers him another bite. "Of course not, but you're so cute
when you're jealous."
"That," he takes a vicious chomp, "was mean, bro."
With his free hand, Nanashi takes the one on his thigh. "Disappointing, too.
You were supposed to do something possessive like—" He drags it brusquely up to
his hip, then sideways.
Hallelujah gasps, "What the—" He lifts the skirt to look.
Beneath the layers of ruffles, Nanashi is only wearing a wine red lace thong
that barely covers anything, but it adorns his semi-erect length so prettily,
and Hallelujah licks his lips, leans down to mouth at his lover's member
through the lace experimentally.
"Mm… Better," Nanashi moans as he continues eating. "I don't know how women
wear these… They're so scratchy, and they keep slipping into uncomfortable
places."
The thought of Nanashi walking all the way here in that tiny, pretty thing
—scratchy, uncomfortable and exposed— just for him is all kinds of sexy, and
he's sure Nanashi felt that.
Grinning, the other holds out the rest of the fruit. "Do you like peach?"
"Quite." Holding a brown gaze, he switches to stroking his lover as he finishes
the fruit off, licking the sweet juice off Nanashi's hand before tossing the
pit into the bin. "It'd be good with cream," he adds shyly, and he's rewarded
with a breathy "Yes" as Nanashi grows fully erect in his hand.
Adjusting his hold, he stands and carries his boyfriend into the adjoining
bedroom to lay him on the bed before briskly shucking his clothes.
The other whistles, looking around as he toes off his shoes. "The perks of
being a mob boss: big room, big bed, private bathroom… Why didn't I just move
in here with you?"
"Seeing as all I'll be hearing about for the rest of the month is their future
Big Sis…"
"Oh, that sounds fun." He unclips his stockings and reels Hallelujah back in
with his legs. "Imagine their faces when they find out."
"I'll tell them," he decides, settling over the other, nose to nose. "I'm sick
of this shit."
"Oh?" Nanashi removes the rose eyepatch and unpins the wig. "Next, they'll
think I've been calling the shots all this time."
"Well, fuck them if they've got a problem with that." Hallelujah cups his
boyfriend's cheek. "You accepted me before I was strong, before I was anyone.
I'm here because you believed in me and gave me the courage to be myself. If
they can't accept us, they can find another leader. Fuck it, I tried. If I had
to choose, there'd be no contest. I love you."
After that mountain of paperwork, clearly a mere molehill compared to what's to
come, Hallelujah is starting to regret his heat-of-the-moment decision. Still,
the Ashura-kai took him in when he had nowhere else to go, so if he can help
them out, he'll at least try. Outside the Terminal, he checks his phone. His
message hasn't been read yet — Nanashi probably hit the hay almost as soon as
they parted ways. Not that anyone could begrudge the guy a good night's rest —
he beat Lucifer and Merkabah, after all, all in a day's work. Boyfriend or no,
Hallelujah probably shouldn't bother him either. He's exhausted, too — he
should have just found the nearest bed when he was done instead of walking all
the way here to dither by the Terminal like this, had even been planning to do
just that, but…
He doesn't want to sleep alone tonight. He's only had all his life to do that,
and tonight, it feels especially lonely.
Heh, it seems formally leading a big organization hasn't made him less
pathetic.
He's never been glad till tonight that the rooms in the underground districts
don't have locks. It's pitch dark when he slips into Nanashi's room. He's not
completely silent, but it's pretty hard to wake Nanashi anyway — he hopes this
doesn't someday become a liability. Now that he's here, though, he realizes a
problem: Nanashi doesn't have a very big bed — there's no way he'll be able to
join the other without either waking or moving him, possibly both.
Maybe he should just take the couch.
As he removes his jackets, tie, pants and shoes—
"Hallelujah?" The sound of his name in the other's sleep-roughened voice warms
him to the core, chases away the night's negativity, and he knows he's a goner.
"H—hey." With glowing green eyes as a guide, he approaches the bed. "Can't
believe I woke you."
"Dagda woke me," Nanashi corrects, scooting over to make space. "He said the
one 'friend' that might have a shot at killing me is here." He stretches
languidly. "I told him orgasm is a good way to go, and I'm grateful he can
bring me back, so I can die from it more than once."
As Hallelujah slips under the covers, he imagines Nanashi will still be making
him blush when they're seventy, and he can't keep a dopey smile off his face.
The other immediately snuggles up for a cuddle, and he wraps himself around
Nanashi, buries himself in that comforting warmth.
"All done?"
Tiredly, he groans the affirmative, cocooning himself more snugly in the
bedding.
"Ooh, fancy," Nanashi chuckles. "My boyfriend's a bona-fide mob boss now. Are
mob bosses supposed to be this cute?"
"L—Leader!" he protests, cheeks colouring. "It's ten times more embarrassing
when you say stuff like that!"
The other only laughs more and ruffles his hair. "But you're cuter when you're
flustered. Anyway, what are the perks?"
"Ugh, I don't know… All I've seen is work… I don't know how Abe made it look so
easy!"
"Sure you do," Nanashi replies, impassive, even as he tenses.
Abe. Samyaza. Dad. He'd looked up to him. He'd hated him.
"You okay?" Muffled by blankets and pillows, clothes and skin, he can still
hear the concern.
"I don't know."
His feelings are all over the place. It would have been easier if it'd been all
bad, if he could just think of Mom dying and growing up abandoned and outcast
and stop there. But it wasn't. Abe had chosen him as if on a whim —now he knows
why— and tried to show him the ropes. Even if it'd been to groom him to lead
Lucifer's army, Abe had been kind. A bit of tough love sometimes, par for the
mobster —and demon— course, but mostly kind. Or maybe his judgement is all
skewed — Nanashi, Asahi and Nozomi are kind; Abe just gave him the time of day
for a change. He doesn't know.
A soft kiss on his mouth catches him by surprise, captures his attention. "I'm
happy you chose me. Thank you."
"Oh." His heart skipped a beat there, and he's sure this is why he's here — if
he'd never met Nanashi, he might really have led Lucifer's army because Abe
said so.
Nanashi kisses him again, twining their legs. "Just oh? You know, I didn't care
about you helping Lucifer or not. I just wanted you to be mine. No matter what
happens, I want you by my side, Hallelujah. Always."
"O—oh," he chokes up. "No one's ever said that before."
"Good," punctuated by another nip at his lips. "I'd hate it if you were someone
else's boyfriend, too."
"Unlikely." He lets out a shaky laugh, heart strangely light. "No one even
looked twice at me till Abe showed up."
"Mm, lucky me." Another kiss, and he deepens it this time, kissing back. "Well,
I'll look at you all you want in the morning, preferably with your clothes off,
but for now…" Half-draped over him, Nanashi settles in to go back to sleep.
"Good night."
Embracing Nanashi tightly, he thinks he's going to be okay. "'Night, Leader."
Nanashi smiles up at him, runs short fingers tenderly through silver hair, and
it brings him back to the here and now. "Well, are you ever gonna get me out of
this dress? 'Cause it's getting really hot in here."
He grins, pulling Nanashi with him as he sits up. Moving behind, he presses his
lips to the nape of Nanashi's neck as he carefully unzips the dress, trailing
kisses down exposed skin covered in a light sheen of perspiration. Nanashi
sighs as he licks off the salt along the other's spine, pushing thick fabric
out of the way, and shrugs out of the sleeves to help. It's not just a
fashionable dress either — the fabric has been heavily reinforced, so it's
actually a decent piece of armour.
Guess people pay those prices for a reason.
Looking at Nanashi, though, you'd never believe the things they'd been through
— thanks to Dagda, his wounds healed perfectly, and his fair skin is flawless.
Now that even the green tint is gone, there's no sign that he'd ever been
fatally injured — even the marks Hallelujah left on him have disappeared.
But Nanashi's not immortal anymore. Wounds will scar now and won't heal as
quickly. Hallelujah will probably greatly outlive him, and he could seriously
hurt Nanashi if he's not careful now. It's strange to think the Messiah who
beat God feels so fragile in his arms.
Nanashi turns, wriggling the rest of the way out of the dress and kicking it
away with the petticoat. "Why the complicated expression?" But before
Hallelujah can answer, Nanashi has straddled his lap in nothing but that
tantalising lace thong and those fuzzy stockings, and it's enough to put all
other thoughts out of mind.
He's always been weak to this, to Nanashi, and sometimes, he has nightmares.
"Figures, you were fucking," Abe —no, Samyaza— whispers, "You truly are my
son."
"I— Mm…"
Nanashi captures his lips and rocks their hips together, and the added
sensation of the lace is strangely intense. The other smiles into the kiss,
then wraps a hand around their cocks before doing it again, and fuck, it's
good. His toes curl as Nanashi keeps going, rubbing their cocks together with
his hand, and he adds his hand to the mix, tries to match the other's rhythm.
There's exhilaration in Nanashi's eyes when they lock gazes, and everything
sharpens when Nanashi gasps his name, tightens their grip a little and throws
his head back as he spills over their hands with a sharp cry.
Hallelujah cradles Nanashi close when he slumps forward, lets himself fall back
onto the bed as the other mouths at his neck, losing himself in the scent,
taste and feel of his lover, skin on skin — it's been so long.
These are some of his favourite moments — just holding each other, sharing
languid kisses. Nanashi keeps his touch gentle, and he traces random patterns
over sweat-slick skin, eyes fluttering shut.
Then Nanashi's fingers twist wickedly, and he gasps, suddenly close.
But a metallic tang strikes his nose then, and he jerks his hands away — he's
drawn blood.
"Shit, I'm sorry." He scrambles away. "Just let me—"
Nanashi catches his hand. "You're overthinking it."
"No! You're not immortal anymore, Leader! They're not going to just heal!"
"So we should stop?"
He freezes.
"I hope they scar, and I love it when you lick the blood off."
Slumping, he groans, "Leader, I hate it when you do that."
Nanashi grins, crawling closer. "Will you?"
Hallelujah sighs, leaning down obligingly to lick one of the wounds on the
other's back, and Nanashi hums, pleased. There's definitely something intimate
about this, but up close, he can see they're quite deep, and he hates himself.
He could easily do so much worse, and Nanashi would only encourage him — his
lover was into biting and marking from the start. Even now, the other sighs
with pleasure as he sucks the blood away from a cut. But they won't heal
instantly anymore.
In one swift motion, Nanashi has Hallelujah pinned to the bed face down.
Sitting atop him astride his hips, Nanashi leans down, mouths a mark into the
back of his neck and commands him to, "Stop overthinking it," like he knows
exactly what is on Hallelujah's mind. "Hold still."
He obeys, suppressing a shiver as the order goes straight down. The lace and
nylon are rough on his skin as Nanashi shimmies down his body, mouthing kisses
along his spine, and anticipation coils in his gut as they stray ever lower. To
his surprise, Nanashi doesn't stop.
"L—Leader— Hng— Ah!!"
He'd known from the first wet dream, the first time he touched himself, that he
liked it back there. The first time Nanashi's fingers pressed in, he'd sobbed
with pleasure and begged shamelessly for more. But this is—
"Fuck, ah-AHH!!"
His insides clench as the other's tongue dips inside again, wet and warm and so
fucking good, he can't think anymore. Warm hands run up his inner thighs to
hold his glutes apart, and he gasps as Nanashi sucks at the rim.
"Sh—shit, Leader, please," he whines, struggling not to lift his hips for more
as Nanashi presses deeper and swirls around, opening him up, lips caressing his
entrance wetly and thumbs rubbing just below.
"Oh, you even taste good," Nanashi purrs, the sound thrumming into him, and he
cries out desperately, toes and fingers curling. "Must be a hybrid thing."
"Please, ngh… Leader, inside…" It's just shy of enough, and he needs.
"Oh, all right, since you've been so good." With a final kiss that leaves him
trembling, Nanashi stands. "Do you n—?"
"No," he shakes his head vigorously, "I'm ready, I'm ready, just hurry!" He
doesn't think it's like this for humans, but it's achingly wet and empty now.
Once he's on edge like this, it's painless when Nanashi enters him, and he
can't help but wonder if Lilim and Succubus served his Dad for a reason.
Instead of simply proceeding, though, Nanashi flips him over and nudges him up
to recline on the pillows. It'd be safer to do it from behind, but Nanashi
knows he likes to see, that the intimacy gets him more than the pleasure, and
that's definitely the other half of why he's crazy about his boyfriend —Nanashi
is as sweet as he is strong— but "I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," and his back arches, breath hitching in his throat as Nanashi
slides in, full and good and pressing into that needy place inside.
"You… don't know that," he gasps as Nanashi lifts his legs to hook them over
strong shoulders, making him sink deeper.
"Sure I do." Nanashi takes his hands, laces their fingers. "You're so obedient,
Hallelujah. You've never done anything I didn't want. Even like this," he
swirls his tongue around a nipple, and Hallelujah mewls as his cock throbs,
"clenching so hard down here, if I said you can't come till I say so, you'd try
for me, wouldn't you?"
He tries to say "yes, of course," but Nanashi nips at the other nub, and he
barely manages, "But hngh… a—accidents…"
"Look at you, overreacting about a few scratches after everything we've been
through," and he envies that unshakeable calm — in the heat of battle, on the
cusp of orgasm, Nanashi is still cool, flippant, unreadable. "Well, I can't
make you trust yourself, but why don't you prove it?" The other rolls his hips,
and oh fuck, his eyes flutter shut. "How long can you hold back for me?"
"N—no…" Even these minute movements—
"Oh, you don't have to. It's not that I don't trust you. But you can prove it
to yourself." A full thrust this time, and Nanashi chuckles breathlessly at his
cry of pleasure. "I'll even play fair — I won't kiss or touch you anywhere else
until it's time."
"L—haahh!!"
His grip tightens on Nanashi's hands, and he has to focus, focus as another
thrust nearly sends him over the edge. True to his word, Nanashi does nothing
but gradually increase the speed and force of his movements, and Hallelujah is
torn between wanting more and trying to control himself. He longs for the
release —his balls ache with need, and even the precum trickling down feels
good on his neglected, sensitised erection, but he can only writhe and throw
his head back — he can't get any traction like this. Nanashi likes to tease him
for being a screamer, but the other's aim is marksman perfect, and he's so, so
close; he can't even look his lover in the eye right now.
He can feel tears welling up as his insides clench painfully around Nanashi
again — it only increases the pressure on that place that seems to get more
sensitive with every thrust, and he could, he could, but just a little more…
Surely, Nanashi is close, too.
"Ngh!!" No, he can't— "Leader, please!!"
"Oh, I don't know…" The other's voice is husky with lust, ragged with passion,
but "Do you still think you'll hurt me?" And he hates his boyfriend's perfect
self control and how inadequate it makes him feel. There, something to hold on
to. "Oh…" Nanashi slumps forward to rest his head on his chest. "You're so
tight." No, not even.
Fuck, "You make me crazy," and he doesn't ever want to stop. He wants to be
making love to Nanashi till they can't any longer, then reincarnate to do it
all again. "Leader—"
"I'm not even your leader anymore," Nanashi mouths into his skin, trailing hot
then cold up his neck, and it's too much, too much. "Won't you say my name?"
"N—Nanashi, please, I'm almost—"
"Scream it," against the shell of his ear as the other's hips stutter, and heat
sears into him—
"I can't—"
"Come for me."
The wave of pleasure crashes over him with the force of a lightning bolt, and
he tries to ride it, to stay with it, but it drowns him, and he falls.
 
When he opens his eyes, the room is dark but for the city lights streaming in
through the windows, and Nanashi is dropping open-mouthed kisses on his neck
while wiping them down with a damp washcloth. The room is a mess — their
clothes strewn all over the floor with that thong and those stockings in plain
view, clearly kicked off carelessly in different directions.
"Oh, that was amazing," Nanashi murmurs as he flings the washcloth away with
the same carelessness and stretches slowly till his joints pop audibly before
twining their legs and pulling the covers up around them. "I love you."
But his hands catch the light as he does, and they're bruised. Hallelujah takes
one by the wrist and presses his lips gently to the marks in apology. Nanashi
wouldn't appreciate another round of their earlier conversation, but he can't
bear it — knowing he did this, that he'll do it again.
"You know," Nanashi offers, snuggling close and settling into his side, "if
you're that worried, I could always tie you up. I bet Dagda knows a thing or
two about restraints that even hybrids can't break."
"Oh." He smiles, glad that Nanashi has given the matter some thought after all.
"That does sound promising. But isn't that… you know… a rather frivolous thing
to bother a god about?"
Nanashi snorts. "He's got forever to do… what, tend magical cherry trees? He'll
love the diversion. Besides, haven't you noticed? These Old Gods are all about
sex and childbirth. The fairies will be lining up to help, and Nozomi will wish
she never asked the purpose of our visit. Clear your schedule. We'll hit up the
Forest when I next get back from Mikado."
He laughs — happy, smitten and sated. "Hell yeah."
                                   □■□■□■□■
"Dammit, Leader…"
There are probably fairies hiding around the grove they're in that will hear
the desperate, pleading tone in his voice, but he can't even bring himself to
care right now.
"Back to this again?"
When he agreed to being tied up, he'd thought— No. No, he really should have
known. Because for all that Nanashi is sweet and kind and helpful and has saved
the world and totally deserves his glorious statue next to Flynn's up in
Mikado, there is absolutely a reason Dagda is so fond of his former Godslayer,
and in some ways, Nanashi could be worse than a demon. Hell, he bets that if he
weren't just half a demon or things were switched around, they'd still be
sleeping with each other, and he'd still be eagerly doing whatever his crazy
boyfriend asked.
Come to think of it, they're all perfect for each other, and he deserves the
mess he walked into.
He's been here for hours, tied up in that stupid dress that started this shit
with something inside that keeps getting hotter, and his body is hypersensitive
from how long he's been this close to climax. Every time he tries to move, the
vine coiled around him will pinch a nipple or slither around his erection,
making him clench reflexively around whatever it is that gets hotter still, but
it also presses up against that sweet spot inside, and maybe, just maybe, the
next time will be enough.
Drenched in tears, slick, precum and sweat, he feels filthy, strung out, but
Nanashi is far from done — he's got that wicked glint in his eyes, the one he
gets when he's worked a stroke of genius to get everything going his way, and
Hallelujah knows it spells trouble.
"Nanashi, please…"
"That's better." The other cups his cheek and kisses him — deep, loving,
deceptively gentle. "I don't care what you are. You're gorgeous. And so good
for me like this."
Yes, he thinks as Nanashi dips his head under the skirt. Yes! he cries out as
the other kisses the tip of his cock and swirls his tongue around it. His
insides clench, and it burns, but he's almost—
Nanashi stops.
He fucking stops and drops to the grass to lie on his back, looking up at
Hallelujah with that infuriatingly satisfied grin, and Hallelujah finally
understands why people say love and hate are two sides of the same coin.
"Remembering how happy you were to be tied up, I'd feel bad if I let it end so
soon…"
No, no, no, no, NO! "No, please, I— We can do this again next time! Hell, I'll
do anything you want, so please!!"
"Anything I want?" Nanashi sits up, pensive. "Hmm…"
"NANASHI!!!"
End Notes
     I had every intention of writing something more vanilla, but I hope
     you enjoyed this anyway. I'd love to hear your thoughts! ♡
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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