Work Text:
Though he still wasn't convinced this Milgram business was anything more than some weird prank, or one of those game shows his little sister liked, Mikoto didn't really mind it here. It had been scary, seeing cops show up at his door accusing him of killing someone, but he knew he hadn't, so it was just another one of the many strange things that had happened since he got here. His clothes were uncomfortable, and the threat of a straitjacket made him nervous, but that's what everybody was wearing. The room all to himself put him on edge, he'd just gotten used to his own apartment, but he was still getting more sleep than he had at home. Best of all though, he didn't have to worry about anyone here thinking he acted like a kid.
Work had turned him into something of a spoiled brat. It was embarrassing, the kinds of fits he would throw when he got home after a long day, all because he was no longer smart, or capable, or special. A lot of people weren't to begin with, and he'd been lucky enough to get through school without any problems. He always felt like a kid, but the way he'd be possessed with some kind of meltdown, throwing things around his house, or crying on the floor until his face was covered in tears and snot, only rubbed the fact in further. Then it had expanded through the rest of his life, infecting every relationship like some kind of disease. His boss would criticize him too harshly, and he'd have to wipe away tears with the back of his hand. His coworkers got annoyed he couldn't keep up, and it was like being rejected by his dad all over again. Papers would pile up, and he'd end up sucking his thumb subconsciously, wondering if this all could have been avoided if he'd tried harder at his homework when he'd been in college.
One time, not so long before his nap that had gone on for far too long, he heard his coworkers talking in the break room. It was bad enough to feel their annoyance rolling off of him with every sigh as they left more papers on his desk, but to hear them talking like that was another. Childish, they called him. Naive. Immature. Mikoto considered himself many things, but childish had never been one of them. Even if he'd felt sort of stuck as an adult in that same feeling he'd had as a kid, he hadn't been childish then either. Maybe that was something other people had let themselves be, but Mikoto had always been better than them, even then. That was mean to say, but it was true. He was better at school, better at helping his family, all without struggle or complaint.
He wasn't going back there. It was as comforting of a thought as it was scary. He'd still had doubt as he'd made up his mind before all this, though he was pretty certain he'd be fired before he could ever voice his urge to quit. Now that it had been weeks though, maybe months, there was no way they'd take him back. And it couldn't really be his fault if some weird game show kidnapped him, right?
And so now, everything was back to normal. The dark circles under his eyes had faded, even if he still didn't sleep well most nights. He could take breaks to smoke whenever he wanted, and Kazui and Shidou didn't mind his company like his coworkers did. They were all just as confused as he was, and a lot of them were much worse at handling it. He felt back on top of things, and nobody suspected for even a second what he might really be like when things got too stressful. He was one of the oldest people here, and nobody had a clue he still thought of himself as being somewhere around ten years old on a day-to-day basis. He still wasn't popular by any means, but he was finding his footing again, slowly but surely. It would be alright in the end.
"Koto," he said, grinning and waving as he approached Kotoko. "You wanna have breakfast together?"
She glanced over her shoulder, looking a little weary of his attempts at being friends. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
He jogged a little down the hallway to catch up, though she didn't slow down for him. "Not really, I just woke up. It's nice that we get three meals a day here, I dunno who makes it, but I'll take anything not coming out of my paycheck, right?"
Kotoko frowned as she continued down the hallway, arms crossed in front of her as she tried her best not to engage with him. "It's not what I'd usually go for. I'm not really a breakfast person."
"It's the most important meal of the day, y'know," he said matter-of-factly, though he knew he could hardly talk. He'd lived off of mostly Red Bulls, vape juice, and the occasional CalorieMate out of his desk drawer. Now that he had the time for it though, he did like the little meals Milgram provided, and had been particularly excited about the grapefruit they'd been served yesterday morning. "Can't have my Koto sister going all day without enough energy, who knows when things are really gonna get going around here."
"I wish you'd stop calling me that," she sighed.
"We have to be besties though, it's the law. We're the Koto-Koto Combo. Koto-Koto unit? I forget what I called us."
"I studied law. Nothing about name siblings," she said bluntly. "I dunno why you're so stuck on it. You're acting like a little kid about it."
Mikoto's face fell a little as he almost stumbled over his feet. Was he being childish? It had always been hard to draw the line between what was friendly and what was immature, especially when he hadn't really been well-liked since he was a kid. He couldn't be acting like a little kid though, that was reserved for when he was overwhelmed; upset, or tired, or sad. He felt just fine now, and it felt almost insulting that she could see past his adult body and into his underdeveloped soul. "Adults can have fun too, you know."
Kotoko finally turned a little to look at him, her red eyes scanning him curiously. She seemed to have caught his change in tone, that he was playing on the defensive now rather than her. "Yeah… Well, you just act like Haruka sometimes is all. Amane's more mature than both of you combined."
Mikoto frowned a little, trying his hardest not to say something rude. There was nothing wrong with Haruka, that felt terrible to even think, but he had his pride. To be compared to a seventeen year-old who cried for his mom all the time felt like having his face spat on. "I do not."
"You do too." She grabbed her food, a plain bowl of cereal this morning, before turning to sit down.
Mikoto hurried to grab his own helping, following her more out of an obligation to convince her otherwise than to try to be friendly. "Everybody's just so serious all the time. I can be serious if I wanted to be, but that doesn't look good for the cameras." He sat down across from her, gesturing pointedly with his spoon before he dug in. "I've gotta get popularity points, what if it's a 'crowd vote' type? I don't think Fuuta's gonna make it very far."
"You really still think this is a TV show?" Kotoko asked, eyebrow raised. "And that doesn't seem immature to you?"
"No," he said, his tone defensive again. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Obviously nobody here killed anybody, I know I didn't. It's some kind of gimmick thing."
"Sure." Nobody agreed with him. It was a little crazy how willing to accept it all they were, when the thought of it made him feel sick. Kotoko didn't even seem as upset as some of the others had, like how pale and somber Kazui and Shidou had gotten when he'd asked. She just went on eating her breakfast, seemingly busy thinking about other more important things. "So you really don't remember? Cuz you weren't denying it the other night."
"The other night? Yes I was. Of course I was." He pulled his cereal closer, as if the bowl against his chest would protect him somehow. "I can't have killed anybody. I don't have anybody to kill, or anything to kill over. I'm, like, a total pushover. One time somebody bumped me so all my papers went all over the train station, and I apologized to them even though they made me late. I think I'd chicken out if I ever even planned to."
"Heat of the moment? Crime of passion? It happens more often than you think." She rested her cheek on her hand as she ate. "It doesn't matter though, in the end. It sounds like Milgram will get to the bottom of it in the end. Doesn't change the fact that you chasing everybody around trying to be friends is reminding me of a certain ten-year-old I know."
"Amane's twelve," he frowned.
"Different ten-year-old. Amane's more mature than most of you people, somehow."
He suspected it was just something wrong with her parents, based on the way she talked, but he hadn't really wormed the information out of her yet. Something about good grades, and forbidding pancakes, and never playing card games before. He felt bad, especially when he'd gotten such a lucky hand in life. But more importantly for the time being, he had to wonder just how many kids Kotoko hung out with on the regular. Did that make her a better judge of character than most?
It felt like being at work again, and it made something he couldn't identify bubble up in his chest, divorced from anything that was him. Nauseating, overwhelming self-disgust. He could feel her gossiping about him behind her eyes just like his coworkers, thinking of him as incompetent, unreliable, weak. He'd fallen into a false sense of security when nobody else had noticed, now he had to prove her wrong, even if that in itself was impossible. He was a kid, deep down, even if not the traditional kind.
He tried to look casual about it, mirroring her stance as he rested his face in his hand. "I can drop the little kid act then, if you don't believe me," he said, forcing his tone to be more natural, like how he'd speak to himself in the privacy of his apartment where nobody else could see. "And then you'll know I'm just trying to cooperate for the TV show."
"Sure," she agreed, looking a little amused. "Let's be serious for once then, instead of you going on about our names having 'koto' in them, or eating instant ramen being some kind of health risk. You went to college, right? What'd you major in? I spent my time studying law."
"I went to art school," he said proudly. "And now I work at a top graphic designer company. My drawing skills themselves are only so-so, but I know all the principles."
"I bet. Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Not right now." He took another bite of his cereal. It was a bit of a sore point, to be honest. It had been quite some time now since he'd had any energy to spare for a partner, and he didn't really trust his track record anyway. They'd always ended up leaving sort of awkwardly as soon as anything got too serious. "I had lots in school though. Well, not lots, but enough."
"You've had sex then?"
"Obviously." Mikoto felt himself flushing a little, his gaze finally dropping away from hers. "Or at least, I've gotten to second base, y'know."
"Oh, come on," she groaned teasingly. "I thought you were trying to be convincing here? I don't even date and I've done more than that."
"Well, I think it's honestly more mature of me to know what self control is," Mikoto said haughtily. "I'm not some… some pervert who's obsessed with girls. I have important things to do. I work almost all day every day, you know. And I live alone, so I've got to manage all my household stuff myself too. I cook, I get groceries, I clean everything, I barely have time to sleep. I'm a busy man, way too busy to waste time with all that."
Kotoko laughed, giving up on her breakfast. "Okay, sure, sure. You've convinced me well enough, I'll drop it. Really though, quit with the Koto-Koto thing."
But as she stood up, leaving him alone with the rest of his bowl, Mikoto wasn't quite as convinced as she was. He didn't know why it bothered him so much when she'd moved on, but it stayed settled in his guts like a rock even long after she'd gone away.
It haunted him the rest of the day. As he smoked, ate his lunch, laid in his cell, chatted with the others, it didn't leave his thoughts for a second. Sex… It wasn't something he'd ever really spent much time considering, mostly because it bothered something in the back of his head. Come to think of it, that was always the issue, wasn't it? He agreed to have sex with his girlfriends, and suddenly they were put off by him and avoiding him bit by bit until they disappeared altogether.
This was his final hurdle, he was sure of it. This one thing was all that was standing between him and being respected.
He chased Kotoko down in the hallway again the following morning, his eyes heavy with lack of sleep. It had kept him up all night, the haunting idea of being treated like a child forever. "Koto," he called again, waving her down as he caught up. "Kotoko, I mean."
She hummed, seeming a little more willing to hear him out without the silly nickname. "We don't need to make this a habit, you know."
"No, but… I kind of wanted to talk to you," he said in a hushed voice.
"Talk then."
He was ashamed all over again, now that he'd begun. Still, he followed after her, feeling smaller than usual as he struggled to catch up and stumbled over what exactly he wanted to say. "I wanted to ask a favor… As long as it can stay between the two of us. You were kind of right yesterday, but not really. I'm not a kid obviously, not really, but I feel like one most of the time. Like… you know the joke about a bunch of kids stacked on top of each other in a trench coat pretending to be an adult? That's kind of how I feel. Except I'm good at it, really good. Most people don't even know. I don't want them to know. But you're right. I can't be an adult like this, not having sex. Everybody can tell, huh?"
She had that amused look on her face again, her pace slowing a little as she listened. "Probably not most people. I'm just very observant. But they might figure it out if you go talking about what you were telling me yesterday."
"Is it really that bad?"
Kotoko looked at him seriously, seeming to consider. "I guess it depends. You never really answered me yesterday, honestly anyway. Have you ever had any sex at all?"
"Yes," he said, almost defensively. "Just not with my girlfriends. And it's been kind of a long time." That felt like a lie. Did that count, if it was even true, the vague feeling of something having gone wrong in his childhood? Occasional nightmares, or imagined hands he wasn't stupid enough to write off?
"Well, why not? If you want to be such an adult, that feels like one of the first steps. Do you even drink?"
"I drink," he confirmed. "And smoke."
"That's something at least, but sex isn't even really a mature adult thing. Especially for guys. I dunno how you made it through high school like that, let alone college."
Mikoto shrunk into himself a little, even more ashamed than he had been before. He knew she was right, and maybe that had been a factor too, being born a girl. But she didn't need to know that, did she? "Like I said, I've been busy working."
"Do you at least, …y'know?" She mimed jacking off, her fingers splayed dramatically as she mimicked an orgasm he couldn't have.
"We're in public."
Kotoko rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. We're all adults here. Well, close enough to adults besides Amane, and she's fine. Or am I embarrassing you?"
It felt mocking all over again, whether she meant it or not. Rubbed in the fact that his reservations were childish, he was acting like a baby blushing about something so immature, especially when he'd brought the topic up. "It's just not really any of your business."
"Look, I'm sorry. I'm trying to help, really," she sighed. "I just don't think I've ever had to talk to somebody like this. Maybe I'm not good at understanding. Why don't we go to my room, and you can explain a little better without worrying about everybody else?"
Mikoto heaved a small sigh of relief. Kotoko was being so nice about the whole thing, even if he was being kind of a burden about the whole thing. Of course she didn't know how to deal with this, most people probably didn't have some internal hold-up about calling themself an adult. "If you don't mind."
"Sure. Come on then. Breakfast can wait." She turned the two of them around, the annoyance on her face flickering. Maybe she doesn't mind so much, he tried to reassure himself. "We're gonna have to sit on my bed."
"I know. Not much in there," he agreed. "We could sit on the floor?"
"I'm not doing that, I'm not five. And I don't want just you sitting on the floor like you're my dog or something."
Mikoto chided himself quietly. Was that childish too? Maybe it was some miracle he'd gotten away with as little attention as he did. It was chipping away at the self-confidence he'd built back up, like every interaction he got through convincing everyone of his lie was praise in itself. "Okay. The bed's fine, I just didn't want to be in your personal space if that made you uncomfortable. Y'know, being a man and all," he said in a half-proud tone, covering as best as he could.
She just scoffed though. At the idea of being afraid of him, maybe, but he got the sense that letting his secret slip had done away with any of his mask he had. He felt sort of naked under her eyes, like he'd somehow peeled away his skin for her, and she was now looking at the small, pathetic creature that lived in his chest instead.
Her room was as barren as anyone else's, just a bed and a table, no personal items to speak of. It was a weight off his shoulders, being able to settle onto the foot of her mattress as if it was his own. He did his best to sit properly even as her eyes scanned him over, hands folded on his lap as his feet crossed on the floor. Proper. Mature. "To answer your question… yes. I touch myself, when I have to."
"When you have to," she repeated, still sounding a little amused as she sat down next to him. Kotoko kept a polite amount of space between the two of them, though she didn't bother with her posture, her appearance. She leaned back against the wall her headboard sat on, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him. "Are you one of those guys waiting for marriage? Or are you just a prude?"
"I'm not. I just… Don't make fun of me," Mikoto said seriously.
"Sure."
"It's one of those things that's always… not scared me, but I just put it off. I'm bad at it or something, any time I've tried it doesn't work out. And something about it just… repulses me. Like calling myself an adult. Or looking like one. I like being treated like one, but that's just because people take me more seriously. I feel the same as I always did, but nobody talks down to me like this. I don't wanna be patronized, or babied, so I pretend. I do all the things I've always done. I take care of the house, and I make money for my family, and I make sure they're happy. Sex isn't part of that. I didn't know anybody cared that much."
"Well, you're getting to that age," she said sympathetically. "Like I said, you've been at that age. You're going to start getting weird looks eventually. If it's a thing where you're worried about being bad at it, that's just practice. And I'm sure you can't be that bad. I've been messing with you, but this is all a surprise to me. I just thought you were one of those annoying guys that's fake as fuck and happy-go-lucky all the time. I wouldn't have put all this together. Well… most of it."
Mikoto brightened up a little. "You mean it?"
"Sure. I mean, clearly nobody thinks of you like a kid. You hang out with Shidou and Kazui, and you've seen how they talk to Amane."
That was a bigger comfort than it should be. She wasn't really complimenting him, not directly, but he's never been hard to please. Especially after his job. "See, then it doesn't matter. As long as nobody asks about sex, it's fine."
"Well, for now. But they're gonna start asking about a wife, or children. That's a normal part of being an adult too," Kotoko pointed out. "Are you gay?"
"No, no. I don't think."
"Well, that's what they'll think," she said with a shrug. "Look… you said it 'hasn't worked out' before, what does that mean?"
"That's the thing, I'm not really sure," he admitted. "My girlfriends would bring it up, and so I'd try, and then they'd act like something weird happened. They never explained when I ask, so I just figure I did something gross, or… I dunno."
He expected another judgemental look at that, but Kotoko almost looked… pleased? He wasn't sure. But her eyes stayed locked on his, hungry like a wolf. "Well, you've got me. You've told me this much already, it's not like I'm gonna be judgey all of a sudden."
"You mean…?"
She shrugged again. "Why not? We're both young, good looking people, and I've never had hang-ups about it like some people do when it comes to sex. I'm not a virgin, and you want to not be one, so it works out. Besides, who else am I supposed to hook up with, Fuuta? He gives me sexist vibes."
"Yeah, he really does," Mikoto agreed, though he couldn't help his stomach doing flip-flops at the thought. "As long as you don't mind that I don't have a dick."
She looked at him curiously for a moment, scanning him again until it clicked. "Oh. Yeah, I'm not picky."
"You're so nice," he sighed, out loud this time. It was at least something less on his plate. And really, she was right. Whatever it had been before, it didn't seem like much could surprise her. Once this whole Milgram thing was over, they never had to see each other again anyway. The thought almost made him sad, even if he'd only just shared some real part of himself with her, it was more than anyone else in his life had ever seen. He felt a little guilty she now knew more about him than his own mother did, but it was no good dwelling on it. It was best his mother didn't have to think about him like that anyway.
She didn't waste time, sitting up to lean in close to him. Mikoto couldn't help but stiffen up as her face inched towards his, watching her movements closely. Her lips were soft against his as she slotted their faces together, plush and slightly cracked. He imagined nobody was bothering much with appearances here, and chapped lips were the least of anybody's problems. It was easier to think about her lips, her short hair tickling his cheek, than her hands traveling up his chest. Like mechanical, objective actions than any display of passion. She was pretty, and it felt good, that wasn't a question, but it felt easiest to create some distance there anyway.
Her fingers fumbled with the straps of his straitjacket as she deepened the kiss, unfamiliar with his clothing and working blind. They loosened gradually, though she didn't stop to peel it over his head even once it felt loose enough, just pushed beneath it to begin undoing the buttons of his shirt below it. "Do something with your hands," she directed in a breathy voice.
He hadn't noticed how still he'd been sitting, taking it all in. His hands had managed to fall on her thighs as Kotoko had half-clambered into his lap, but they'd stopped there as if to hold her steady. He tried to mirror her motions, fiddling with the buckle around her middle that was much simpler than his own woven maze of leather belts. Her straitjacket hung half-open, and not even all the way down past her waist, which he'd never really noticed until now. It was loose enough already it was easier to just push the extra fabric down past her shoulders, pooling around her like a discarded robe. He was proud of his initiative as he moved his grasp up to her middle, the excitement of touching her bare skin making his heart pound. She didn't wear anything but athletic wear beneath Milgram's restraints, close enough to undergarments that he elected to just leave it in place as he kissed her back.
She'd undone his shirt by now, groping at the front of his binder where a slight pudge gave away where his breasts were pressed against his chest. It made Mikoto feel breathless, like the choker around his neck was strangling him a leeching his sense out of his head. His head fell back as Kotoko pressed into his mouth, her lips devouring his and her tongue dancing curiously against his. He was happy to let her take the lead, to puppet his body around as she saw fit, to turn the mush in his brain into something of worth like his teachers had guided his hands to make sculptures of paper-mâché.
She finally broke the kiss after what felt like an eternity, slipping her hands out to yank at his straitjacket. "Help me out a little," she grunted as it caught on his arms.
Mikoto grunted poutily, holding his arms up over his head as she tugged. He tried to think of something to vocalize while he had the chance, but nothing would come. What did guys say to sound sexy? It was one thing once they got going, he could hear whispers in the peripheral of his mind once anything got to that point, but those words felt like sick in his mouth to even think anyway.
Kotoko had him pushed down against the bed before he could think anyway, his blue collared shirt splayed out around him as she lay on his chest, kissing him again. She guided his arms all on her own this time, down from where he'd left them hanging over his head to squeeze at her breasts. "Mikoto," she breathed against his lips, kneading his fingers into the soft flesh of her chest. "Touch me."
"Mama." The word had passed his lips before he could let it filter through his brain. He didn't even really register it once it was out in the open air, too lost in the feeling building as Kotoko ground down against his skinny jeans, the thick denim seam against his crotch rubbing him just right as she directed his body around.
Kotoko's kisses slowed, though her hands didn't. If anything, her warm fingers only seemed to squeeze tighter around his hands at the small word, her red eyes opening to meet his once again. "Mikoto? Is that still you, baby?"
The pet-name would have felt demeaning, normally. He almost got offended on instinct, but something about it now made him feel like he was melting, cotton candy dissolving against her tongue. "Who else would it be?" he asked, but even that didn't sound right. His voice had slipped into something wet and vulnerable, slurred and small.
"Don't worry about it." Kotoko sat up for only a minute, pulling her own straitjacket over her head, much quicker than his own had been shed. "Do you want the rest of your clothes off?"
Something about it felt scary, but he'd be lying if he said no. Mostly, he wanted the rest of her clothes off. Even with her guidance gone, he couldn't take his hands away from her tits now, and he couldn't help but enjoy the way her shorts rode up her thighs to reveal even more of her long, muscular legs to him. He nodded, slow to withdraw his touches to let himself be directed around again.
Kotoko pulled him up by his arms, yanking his hands up by the wrists again to peel his binder off of him. It wasn't an attractive sight, he knew, but something about the feeling of the tight fabric catching on his ears brought back some clarity to his thoughts. "I'm sorry. I dunno why I said that," he said quietly, a poor strategy of course-correcting the tone his voice had taken.
Kotoko shook her head as she threw the binder aside, moving on quickly to the zipper of his jeans. "It's okay. I don't care what you call me, baby. This is to help you, remember? As long as it helps you feel like a big boy, you can do whatever feels right."
Mikoto arched his hips up a little at that, his face curled in a frown. He didn't feel very mature at all, for once. It was a new feeling, different than his secret usually was. Normally he didn't feel quite this pathetic unless he was upset, the headspace itself made him a little antsy just because it reminded him of work, but he didn't feel bad. Nervous about making a good impression, maybe, but not bad. It didn't even register that she was talking down to him, it felt at his level for the moment. He didn't feel like a big boy at all.
He buried his face in her chest as she tugged at his pants, his arms wrapped around Kotoko's middle to hold her close. It felt more efficient than hiding his face in his hands, or tugging the blanket up to suck on the corner like his hands were itching to do. He needed something to pacify himself, and he still had enough of his wits about him to think straight for the time being. He distracted himself with kissing at her cleavage as best as he could with her breasts still contained, his hands going back to palming at the sensitive mounds of flesh.
He was in just his boxers now. She was still hovering over him, fully clothed, and he was in nothing but his boxers. He felt like an animal with its soft belly exposed to the open air, or like he really was a little boy again waiting for his mother to bathe him, back when she had time for things like that. His face felt flushed as Kotoko pulled him back from her, his lips wet with his own spit. "Can I see you too?" he asked.
Kotoko laughed a little, sitting back as she dropped his jeans to the ground along with the rest of his clothes. "Yeah, fine." She was a lot better at it than he was, didn't make it look clumsy or awkward. It was almost like watching a dance, seeing her peel her top off over her head, her tits bouncing free. They were smaller than his, perky and cute, her nipples peaked in the cold air. Her shorts followed, smooth and sexy, and he had to wonder why she agreed to do this in the first place. She was way out of his league.
He slipped his own boxers off, his eyes tracing over her body. He didn't usually get horny any more than he thought about sex, and he still wasn't even sure if he was more worked up about her or the feeling of smallness slowly consuming him, but it was making a warmth bloom between his legs either way. He felt needy, clingy in a way he'd never really got to be. He wanted to give her even more than he already had, like she didn't hold more of him in her hand than he'd ever trusted anyone with before. He wanted to curl up in her arms and confess everything, the weight of his mask he'd worn his whole life, the loneliness in his chest that seemed endless, just how scared he was of anyone seeing he wasn't what he pretended to be. He wanted to take advantage of what he'd managed to grab hold of before it slipped through his fingers.
"Please touch me," he settled on, laying back down against the mattress. He craved her dominance, her control, that look in her eyes like she wanted to tear him open with her fangs. "Anywhere."
Kotoko slid his boxers down his thighs as she worked her way back up to his lap, leaving the two of them completely naked. Her skin was hot against his, warming him inside and out as she tangled their legs together, rocking her cunt against his. She pressed him into the none-too-soft mattress, her hands focused on his chest now in some sort of equal exchange, though he was sure she was probably better at it than him. She was probably better at all of this than he was. Her fingers tweaked at his nipples as he humped back up into her, their hips rocking in tandem as she played with him.
She pulled at his tits somewhat painfully, drawing squeaky little whines past Mikoto's lips. It was enough to keep her busy for several minutes, just watching his expression twist into pleasure as he keened for her, using his squirming and bucking for her own pleasure. "Maybe this is all your girlfriends had a problem with," she teased. "Most girls want a man who'll fuck them stupid. You've been looking for the wrong type of girl."
"'M sorry," Mikoto whined, blinking back tears quickly. It would be too embarrassing to show that it bothered him, way too embarrassing to cry in front of her right now. "I can try, just— it feels good, Mama. I don't wanna stop."
Kotoko shushed him, one of her hands freeing itself to push up against his lips, past them, prodding at his tongue. He suckled on her fingers contentedly, soothed by having something in his mouth. She guided his face back until his watery grey eyes met hers, no matter how hot his cheeks had gotten. "I didn't say it was a bad thing. You've got the right type of girl right here."
Mikoto didn't want to try to speak. He knew he'd just found silly, blubbering around the two digits, and it felt like all his sense was leaking out of his pussy. Instead he just blinked up at her, waiting for some kind of punchline.
"You're sweet like this. I was hoping you would be. Definitely no adult, but you tried your best, didn't you? We can get there. You just need practice to pretend to be a big boy, huh? I'll give you all the practice you want. I'll almost be sad when you've got it down."
The praise blossomed in his chest, better than drugs, better than the sex itself. His heart was torn now, unsure what he wanted. It felt easy now to give in, to let Kotoko see him at his weakest as long as she would keep talking like that, but that was the exact opposite of what he'd been trying to do, wasn't it? He couldn't sort out up from down like this, not when she was pacifying him like a baby and rubbing their slick folds together.
Mikoto babbled around her fingers, his eyes fluttering closed. He was sinking deep into things that hadn't been touched in ages, like he was floating somewhere between the then and now. It felt like there was a film between the Mikoto of the present and whatever was tickling against the back of his skull, strong enough to pull him back but not strong enough to take him all the way. All of a sudden, it felt alien to see his hands so large against Kotoko's hips, the sight of Milgram's white ceiling instead of the glowy stars stuck over the bed of his childhood home, Kotoko's hair black instead of brown. Brown… Why would it be brown?
Kotoko had moved at some point while he was lost in his thoughts. Her fingers popping out of his mouth, slick with his saliva, snapped him back into the moment as much as he could be. He still found himself a little disturbed as he looked down at himself, took in his full chest and the hair covering his cunt, but he didn't have time to grapple with the uncanny thoughts before she slipped her fingers inside of his hole. Mikoto spread his legs for her subconsciously, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as his head rolled back. The stretch was more than he expected after so long, even when he played with himself he usually just took his vibrator out of its drawer to hurry things along. He could feel how slick Kotoko had made him though, how his soft inner walls were sucking her in hungrily.
It was overwhelming, undoubtedly, but surely not enough for the way he felt right now. Right? It was almost frightening how out of control he felt, like Kotoko was morphing him into something dependent when that had never been something anyone would describe him as. His tongue felt numb even as he babbled mindlessly, more sounds than words, his entire being focused on his nerve endings and the butterflies in his tummy rather than any higher thought process. Kotoko stroked his dick between two fingers as she rubbed against his insides, still watching his face like a hawk.
He wanted to hide, cover his face shyly as he felt himself breaking down, but her gaze held him back. If that was the prize she wanted from this, he wouldn't be the one to take it from her, even as he felt his mask breaking down. He could feel hot tears rolling down his cheeks as he struggled to keep up, could feel drool pooling in his mouth as she worshiped his most sensitive spots. His breath was coming out in pathetic pants as she found his g-spot, her fingertips rubbing against his bundle of nerves from the inside and the outside all at once.
"Tell Mommy how good it feels," she coaxed, her voice thick with lust.
It came back to him slowly, why nobody else had wanted him like this. He always turned into this, a sniveling mess, crying and speechless no matter how good it was. They always looked scared, or worried, got up and left, seemed incapable of looking at him the same. But here Kotoko was, looking at him more kindly than ever. It only made Mikoto cry louder, his moans and his sobs blending into one.
"Use your words, baby."
"Mama," he whined, his thighs trembling as he held himself open for her, propping his hips up towards her exploring touches. "Good, good."
"Good, baby." Her voice was turning into something deep and gentle, like she was trying to play the part for him. She was usually cold, sarcastic, but the deeper he fell into the fog of his mind, the more she seemed like she was digging him out of the layers he'd buried himself in. He could feel himself gushing for her, getting close to an orgasm embarrassingly quickly.
Mikoto's hand grasped at her wrist as he began fucking himself against her hand, any control he'd had over himself slipping away. "Mama, please," he gasped, his snotty nose and wet lips making him sound more childish than ever. "'M gonna— gonna—"
Kotoko's teeth buried themselves gently in the soft flesh of his inner thigh, pinning him open as she rubbed at his dick more insistently. He could hear how messy his cunt was beneath her touches, the humiliation of how easy he was only making his eyes roll back in his head. "That's it, baby. Show Mommy what a big boy you are. Cum for me."
Mikoto's body shuddered, his fingers digging into her hand painfully as he drenched the sheets, a silent cry escaping him. His vision went fuzzy as his orgasm overtook him, going on and on as she finger-fucked him relentlessly through it.
"Good boy," she cooed as he came around enough to process sound again, his heart thudding heavy in his ears. Even as she was shifting again, her touches hadn't let up, fingering his sloppy hole slowly, her thumb pressing against his stiff dick. "You look so silly like that, baby. Way too small for this."
It took him a while to find a protest inside of himself, even as his legs tried to close around her hand. It did nothing but press her in further, his heavy tongue producing nothing but pathetic mumbly whines. "Too much."
"You're okay. Show Mommy you can take it. You can, can't you?" She's swiveled around, now perched over him and looking at his bleary expression through her own legs.
He knew what was coming, even before she settled down against his face. It made him happy, in a way, that she still wanted something out of him. He could still show her what a good kid he was— no, how good he was at being an adult. He could still serve her in some kind of way, even if she seemed set on pushing him into overstimulation as he provided it. He didn't wait for her to lower her hips down all the way, straining his neck to suck her clit into his lips, his hands digging themselves out of the sheets to pull her against him.
It was Kotoko's turn to moan, though she sounded far more controlled than he did. She was careful not to squash his nose beneath her weight, rolling herself against his eagerly lapping tongue. "There you go. Nurse on Mommy's clit while she plays with you."
Mikoto suckled on her obediently, tracing soft shapes with his tongue through her folds. He was glad to have something to focus on, something to hide himself in and keep him from being able to talk. He let himself slip into it as she kept his legs wrenched apart, letting his uncomfortable cries become her pleasure. She tasted salty and sour, pleasant in its own kind of way, mostly because it was proof that he couldn't be doing all that badly.
She spread him open as she let him worship her cunt, letting his dick stand out proudly from his slick folds, pulsing with the overwhelming attention it had received today. She kept up her slow, ticklish touches, letting her fingertips dance against the sensitive bud, seeming to enjoy the way his hips jumped and his slit leaked. She'd withdrawn her fingers from his cunt at least, though even through his overstimulation, Mikoto mourned the feeling of being full. It felt like torture, giving him too much and not enough all at the same time, watching on while his poor pussy clenched around nothing but the empty air.
"You're gonna make me cum too," Kotoko moaned, flicking his dick softly. "You're too good with that little mouth. Where'd you learn how to do that, baby?"
He couldn't tell her, even if his mouth was available. The movements felt practiced, the taste reminded him of warm blankets and soft pajamas, but the memories themselves stayed shrouded in shadow. But it didn't matter right now, even less than it mattered when he was laying curled up alone in his bed wondering the same things. Right now, he had something real, something solid. He found his hands holding Kotoko's waist like he was afraid she was going to get up and leave on a second's notice. He didn't know what he'd do when she did.
It was tempting to hold back as he felt the end approaching. She was teasing him, so it might have even been okay if he'd decided to, to edge her and string her along until he was ready to go back to putting on a show. But that would be cruel, too mean when she'd given him all of this. He felt her pace picking up, her wet cunt smothering him as he buried his tongue inside of her and let his nose be something to grind against, and he let himself have the moments it took to mourn.
Even now, she might leave like everyone else had. She might shoo him away to go eat their breakfast like they'd meant to do in the first place. He might never have something like this again, now that he'd proven he could. He'd have to go right back to rubbing himself off in the quiet dark of his own room, pretending it was enough. With how horny she was going to leave him, it would be pretty immediate. Maybe she'd just let him stay long enough to bury his face in her pillows, ass up in the air so he could finger himself to another orgasm.
Kotoko shook against his face, clutching his thighs for purchase as she moaned long and soft. It was a final compliment, all he could ask for at the end of this one-in-a-million chance. And then it was finished. She slung her leg back over to one side of his body, climbing off of the bed to begin sorting through their clothes. To his surprise though, she stood up with his boxers first. "I don't have anything to clean up with, sorry. You might just have to make a trip to the bathroom."
Mikoto sniffled as he looked over to her, eyes blurry with tears as he tried to settle himself. "Can we just… stay here a little while, maybe?"
Her eyes looked over his face as she sat back down, the undergarments falling to her lap. "That's fine," she said softly. Her hand reached out, brushing his bangs out of his eyes where they'd been plastered to his forehead with sweat. "You did very good, baby."
"Like a real adult?" he mumbled, trying to force his voice to be big with very little success.
"It was close enough," she chuckled. "Like I said, we can practice until you get there. As long as you're only a baby for me, we'll call it a win."
He wasn't a baby. He didn't want to be taken care of, he knew he didn't, but he couldn't help but feel a yearning for it anyway. "You really meant it? You weren't just saying that?"
She frowned. "Of course not. Like I'd be stupid enough to let this only happen once."
He couldn't find the energy to sit up, but he doubted she'd care at this point. Mikoto pressed his head up against her hip, wrapping her leg up in a hug. It was silly. Childish. But maybe that was okay, just for a little while, if it stayed secret.