counter condition | denmaki

i

"I want to have sex with you, Makima."

Denji doesn't know how he expects her to react to this. It's something he's fixated on for months, mangling his body for it, enduring thirty lifetimes' worth of agony and killing so many devils, all because Makima dangled temptation in front of his salivating mouth once. Once. It's kinda pathetic, but his whole life is kinda that flavor of depressing, right? Besides, Denji knows it's not something he's owed, but the reality of the matter is that he knows Makima wouldn't offer something she didn't have the balls to follow through with. Knows that she doesn't go back on her word, her holy, iron-clad word weighing heavy as law, at least to him. Why would she have convinced him that she could fulfill any request if it wasn't true?

It's all the more reason to try. Denji's always swung for the fences, anyway.

"So, that's what you want?" He doesn't expect her cordial smile, especially not after being propositioned by her goddamn employee.

"Yeah, o-of course. A whole lot, t'be honest."

Blurting it out is a lot less humiliating than it is to affirm it, to explain himself. He's basically telling her he's wanted to wet his dick in her since they met. But he owes her that much, even if he can't meet her gaze right now.

She doesn't answer right away. The gentle snoozing of Makima's dogs plopped around the living room rumbles through his consciousness, mixing discordantly with the white noise and his tangled thoughts.

However, the moment Makima shatters the silence, Denji's heart soars. "You did earn it, after all."

He really did.

There hasn't been a single instance since then where his daydreams haven't been consumed by scented candles, dim lights and rose petals and all the cheesy shit he's seen in movies with Aki and Power. The fantasy of him hovering over Makima in his own tiny, unkempt bed haunts him, red hair unwound from her tight braid and fanned out beneath her, as if floating in cool, crystalline water.

So strong and beautiful, and for a carved-out slice of time, she's allowing himself to have her. Saying yes. Honestly, if he dropped dead after they finish, whatever. Making love to Makima would complete him in every way conceivable.

Denji licks his lips, staring at her unbothered profile beside him on the couch. He fidgets in the scrutiny, the cool, luxuriant leather squeaking with his anxious movements. Her eyes watch him, lips open to expose a peak of teeth, as if waiting for something.

Fuck. He actually has to initiate this. How do people start having sex? Does he go in for a kiss? Would Makima be okay with him kissing her? Would it be awkward, or should he start by grabbing her tits or—

"Um," he starts, his voice wavering in the lamest way possible. "Uh, Miss Makima, can you, uh—" his skull is laughably devoid of anything, cleared as if someone selected and deleted all the text and coding crammed inside his brain, "—take off your shirt?"

"Nope," she chirps, eyes crinkling with the warmth from her expression.

"Why—?" It's a punch to his solar plexus, robbing him of air and reason. It doesn't make any sense. Does she only bang with her clothes on? Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck that's kinda hot—

"Because my darling puppy," she explains, facing him head-on. Slowly, she flourishes her wrist and brings it close to him. Right there so her fingernails drag down his sternum in a way that makes his dick twitch, "you should have been more specific."

"Really?" He's not even sure how he manages to get an intelligible word out.

She stops just above his navel. Makima laughs a little as she flicks him, the little thud radiating hot into his core. "Sex is such a broad term. It can be sweet, violent, boring. Pleasure or pain or a mix between the two. Sometimes it's unwanted, other times it's as the build-up and tension finally snaps, and it's all the participants ever dreamed it to be. Euphoric. Meaningful. Many people view it as a means of freedom or domination." Makima retraces the path up his body, not stopping until her fingers graze his bobbing throat, his chin. "Just about anything in the world, Denji, can worm its way into sex. It's such a flexible, amorphous thing."