Archive of Our Own

Makoto wasn't curious by nature. For the most part, he was content to let things be as they were. Life was less stressful that way. His father said dawn was the best time to go fishing and therefore it was. His teacher said the sky was blue because of some junk about light waves and therefore it was. Hungry minds only brought unhappiness and endless questions upon themselves until you ended up with people like Rei, forever somersaulting between the joy of discovery and the despair of unknowing, constantly starving for answers, binding their brains up with more rules and more logic and even thinking about it exhausted him. He wasn't that kind of guy.

Speaking of things he wasn't, he was similarly lacking in the risktaking department, doing nothing more outlandish than trespassing on private property at the behest of others, but with graduation looming ever closer he reckoned it couldn't hurt to live a little while he was still young. Nothing extreme like piercings or tattoos—he wanted to be employable in the future—but something he would never dare do otherwise.

So he bought himself a bottle of "high quality, all-natural" male enhancement pills.

Years of temptation from late-night commercials and junk mail wore down his initial resilience until he caught himself idly wondering if they worked. Unlike most other things he wanted to try, there was no one he could ask for recommendations—he suspected that the only person he could ask who wouldn't outright laugh at him would be Haru, but the odds he'd tried male enhancement was in the realm of pig flight—so he spent several days shopping around online and settled on PriaMAXX from a shady-sounding company called T&J Pharmaceuticals. It consistently had the best reviews across the board, with customers tossing around hefty phrases such as "lifechanging" and "the best on the market" and "my boner was so amazing that I cried." The site was only a half step out of Web 1.0 and didn't have any flashy features, only links to FAQs and the store on a gaudy front page. The answer to your prayers!! boasted the site, with the milder footnote: Shipping guaranteed to be discreet.

The package arrived two days later as he studied himself in the bathroom mirror, contemplating the all-important matter of how much he would grow—if he did. There was always the possibility the reviews had been faked and he'd get a bunch of sugar pills dolled up for a quick buck, but he preferred to stay positive and focused on visualizing his ideal dick. A couple extra centimetres in length would give him the confidence he craved, but enhanced girth would be a welcome second. When his imagination ran wilder he dreamt of having to update his entire wardrobe to accommodate the extra mass the same way he did every time he bulked up, of button-popping boners and a bulge you could balance a level on, horse comparisons and gasps of delight from future lovers.

"No, I can't, it's too big. It's not possible!" "Anything's possible if you believe in yourself."

(In his daydreams, he's suave.)

The door buzzer echoed through the empty house—thank you conveniently planned couple's day out, thank you neighbourhood baseball game—and he hurried to sign off on the package, then skulked back to his room and tore the box open. Nestled in the bubble wrap was a large dark green bottle with an attached leaflet congratulating him on his purchase, a bunch of clinical sounding junk he skipped over, and the dosage instructions. After popping all the wrap per Tachibana family tradition, he fetched a glass of water, locked the door, and shook a capsule into his sweaty palm. It was an into-the-rabbit-hole-red horse pill that emanated cold energy where it laid. He considered putting it back and getting a refund. It was too good to be true. Everyone would be taking them if they worked.

But it couldn't hurt to try just one.

He swallowed like a champ and went about getting ready for the rest of his busy day, which consisted of swimming with Haru and not much else. As he dressed, a painful, deep-rooted itch took hold in the base of his dick and blossomed along its length. Teeth gritted, he rubbed and adjusted himself a few times, only for the irritation to grow worse. The twins must've put itching powder in his trunks. Wouldn't be the first time, though he'd sworn his mother had thrown it in the bin when she found out then.

The buzzer rang a second time and he postponed washing off to throw on a pair of shorts and answer. Haru seemed surprised when he opened up barefoot and topless, but Makoto had more pressing concerns. The itching ramped higher and higher, jumping jellybeans in his ballsack and though he tried to grin and bear it while he got Haru settled in, he couldn't help subconsciously reaching down and squeezing himself to alleviate the infernal itch. His hands shook as he poured Haru a tall glass of lemonade and he struggled to resist the urge to crack open his fly and dump the rest of the pitcher down it to give himself the kind of perverted relief that was probably some asshole's fetish. Scratch the initial theory, the itching powder didn't have shit on this.

Haru cocked an eyebrow at him. He figured he'd been as transparent as he felt.

"Sorry, I think, uh..." Makoto gave him a pained smile, stepping on his own feet as he twisted on the spot, desperate to satiate the itch without being so rude as to drop trou and lick himself like a dog. "You remember the time the twins put itching powder in my underwear?"

Haru leaned against the counter, subtle amusement colouring his expression. "I can wait."

"Be right back!" Makoto sprinted to the bathroom and tore off his clothes like they'd been outta style for thirty years.

His cock hung limp at an impressive eighteen centimetres and his balls had swollen to the size of small oranges. His eyes bulged in amazement, stunned at how fast the pills had worked their magic. While he longed to ogle his magnified manmeat, the pain was too excruciating to waste another second. Silently apologizing to his parents as he leaned over the sink, he slung his dick into the basin and turned the cold water on full blast, sighing as the itch subsided to manageable levels. He turned himself over a few times, worrying that he might've had an allergic reaction, but the lack of a rash made it safe to assume that it was a byproduct of the transformation. Confident that the problem was resolved, he pushed his concerns to the back of his mind and pulled on his legskins.

They were tighter in the obvious regions and his bulge was more pronounced despite the skins' compression. When he hopped, his dick bounced with him, straining against the lycra. He checked himself out from different angles, deciding that he liked the look and that he'd have to add another glowing review to T&J Pharmaceutical's portfolio. He straightened himself out along his right thigh, stroking his hand over his thick shaft, shivering with excitement as he felt the familiar southward swirl of blood. Would people notice? Would they whisper to each other in awe? He wasn't the bragging sort, but whenever Gou praised his back or Rin grumbled about his pecs or his classmates commented on how strong he was, he melted inside. To have someone admire the intimate parts of him the same way was the stuff of dreams.

Emboldened by his new manhood, he left the shorts on the floor and pulled on a baggy t-shirt, telling himself that getting changed on the beach was a hassle, so he didn't need anything else but his skins.

When he stopped by the kitchen to let Haru know he was ready to go, Haru remained silent. Makoto squirmed under his appraising eye. People underestimated how observant was, mistaking his stoicism for disinterest, but someone who never studied the world couldn't hope to recreate trails of puddles after the rain or the neverending stream of cats that came to visit his home the way he did. He knew Makoto's body better than Makoto himself, every curve of every muscle and bone from childhood to now captured faithfully in graphite and ink. So when Haru looked at him, Makoto knew he could tell. He bypassed the kitchen to put on his shoes, wanting to postpone a potentially awkward discussion. Haru probably wouldn't bring it up. What did he care about other people's dicks? If Makoto was being honest, he thought Haru didn't care much about his own either. Not that that was a bad thing. It would be very Haru, if nothing else.

"Ready?" he called, bracing himself for whatever may come.

Haru sat beside him and pulled on his shoes. His eyes flicked up the length of Makoto's leg. Yeah. He knew. Did he think it was sexy? Did he like big dicks or was he a subscriber to the aerodynamic aesthetic? Makoto stood, meaning to say something to break the tension, but instead ran his hands up the insides of his thighs, tracing the green linework to his groin. Heat pulsed in his ears as he cupped his hands round his cock, rubbing in languid circles. He hooked his thumbs in the top of his skins and began teasing them down, exposing the downy tuft of his pubes. His hips took a life of their own, swaying a serpentine path as the tightness of the skins grew ever more apparent.

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he peeled his lips apart and murmured, "Haru."

Haru walked past him without a word and headed into the street. Suppressing the sting of rejection, Makoto tugged up his skins and trailed after him like a whipped dog. He didn't know what he'd been thinking. That was the kind of behaviour he'd expect out of the gravure idols he'd seen in magazines Gomuhara brought to class—which he had certainly not borrowed, he was above such things (most of the time)—not himself. With great dick comes great responsibility, he reasoned. It was up to him to stop himself from becoming a flasher pervert creep who spent his free time ambushing old ladies and elementary schoolers. He recalled with apprehension that his father had a long brown trenchcoat that he had worn on days when his own coat was drying. Never again, he vowed. The temptation would be too overwhelming.

It was a terrible burden, this dick of his.

The itching returned with a vengeance the instant he was out the door and though it was the dash of salt to his wounds he didn't need, he did his best to ignore it, questioning if wearing legskins alone had been as great of an idea as it first seemed. Flashing impulses aside, what if the transformation hadn't finished yet? What if it was only getting started?

He dismissed his worries as silly. It wasn't like his dick could grow any bigger than it already had even if he wanted it to. Mission accomplished, call it a day, no need for any more nonsense. But the itch persisted, swelling in his nuts and prickling his cock with the sting of a thousand hornets. Every step became agony as the lycra rubbed against him, stimulating his oversensitive nerves more than they could handle. He smothered his whimpers with his hands as he tried to keep pace with Haru's brisk stride, hummingbird heart fluttering.

"We can go home if you aren't feeling well," Haru remarked, side-eyeing him and his obvious discomfort.

Makoto almost screamed a plea for Haru to touch his cock, but instead squeaked, "It'll be fine once we get to the water."

The closer they drew to the shore, the more painful moving became and Makoto slowed from a walk to a waddle to a dead halt in the middle of the road. Contrary to his belief, his junk had kept growing until the root of his cock was bulging out of the top of his legskins, forced upward by his hefty balls. He watched in horror as the lycra struggled to keep his rapidly expanding dong under control, stretching the skins further and further until they were so tight that they cut off circulation below his waist and then—RRRIPPP!!—they burst with the load and Makoto's willy won its hardfought freedom, flopping out with an undignified fleshy slap. Covering it up with his t-shirt was impossible, each testicle was the size of a coconut and his dick's size now sat somewhere between 'large butternut squash' and 'small watermelon.' Makoto choked back a sob, trying to cover his obscene cock with his woefully inadequate hands. There were a few times his family joked that he'd die of embarrassment, but he didn't think he'd gotten this close before.

When Haru realized he wasn't being followed, he doubled back to see what was wrong.

"Don't look at me!" Makoto begged as the itch spread to his ass, then travelled to the rest of his body.

Haru wrapped his towel around Makoto's waist and turned him in the direction of home. Yes, that was the smart thing to do. Makoto wondered why he hadn't thought of that. They would go home and read the brochure and see what was going on and everything would be fine. He enjoyed momentary relief before a second RRRIPPP!! startled them both as his ruined legskins dumped his ass out, knocking off the towel and letting his southern cheeks glow in the summer sun. The ass was its own percussion line, clapping with every move he made, making him look like one of those rap guys' girlfriends with his bubble butt busting out all over the damn street. But things would still be fine. He just had to make it back home. Stay positive, he told himself. Make a joke out of it like Nagisa would if he were here.

He didn't know how to make a Nagisa joke.

But everything would be fine!

He bent to grab the towel and the legskins tore more, splitting right down the seam to reveal a taint that could be seen from space. He snapped up ramrod straight, brain frying as he frantically tried to decide what part of himself to cover. He needed damage control for his damage control. Haru tried wrapping the towel around him again, but it was no longer big enough to encircle his expanded waistline.

"What are we supposed to do?" Makoto hissed, panicked. "Everyone will see me if we go home!"

Haru pulled Makoto's head down with one hand and tightened his grip on the towel with the other, tugging him close. They were in the range where magic happened and Makoto couldn't help but whimper as his gargantuan cock brushed Haru's thighs. The fabric of his shorts felt good, but he wished it was bare skin he was feeling instead. Time crawled when Haru invaded his breathing space, holding him fixed with the intense blue of his eyes. Makoto went to speak, their lips mere millimetres apart, and was shushed. A bike bell rang as a local boy zipped past without a second glance.

Coast cleared, Haru let him go and gestured at a nearby alley. "Wait here. I'll get you a change of clothes."

Makoto doubted any of his clothes fit him anymore—perhaps a sheet would suffice—but he appreciated the sentiment. He ducked into the alley and popped a squat on a broken-down box, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong so fast. All he'd wanted was a bigger dick. Was that so criminal?

That train of thought was too miserable to dwell on, so he hopped cars to ponder the taste of Haru's breath. Sweet lemonade lingered on his lips in a reminder of what could've been and he felt life stir in the source of his woe. There'd been talk about them for years, but he'd never thought of Haru as anything but a friend—his dearest, most important friend for sure, but nothing more. The craving he'd been battling the past twenty minutes was fresh to him, an intoxicating fruit he longed to sample.

Now that he thought about it, Haru had filled out nicely aside from his mouth. There was something endearing about how tiny it was, as if it had developed in direct relationship with the amount he spoke growing up. Makoto looked at the monstrosity between his legs and laughed. There was no way Haru was getting his mouth around it. No mortal man could take that slab of beef and survive. Maybe he would try anyway, try and get frustrated he couldn't get even the tip of the tip in and use that abstract mind of his to come up with an alternate solution. He could straddle the uselessly huge cock, fuck it with his thighs while he fingered Makoto's fat slut ass with the hands he used to create art. He could carve a masterpiece from his body.

He liked the sound of that.

Guided by a fledgling curiosity, Makoto wrapped his arms around his supersized balls and hoisted them together. When he positioned them just so he could feel a pocket form in the folds of his scrotum. It was like a pussy made of balls. Fantasies spewed forth from his brain unbidden, the kinds of things he'd never dare think about any other day but came so easy when he was with his megadong. Haru fucking his ballpussy and pumping it full of his smelly mackerel-flavoured cum. Haru fucking his ass so hard it sounded like a standing ovation. Haru slaving over him, becoming the caretaker of his cock, tending to its every need. He would carry it and bathe it and tuck it in at night, he would make sure it brushed its teeth and did its homework and went to a respectable university because they were going to raise it as their son and he wasn't sure what he was thinking made sense anymore but he didn't care because the three of them were going to live happily ever after together. His dick-son siphoned off another few litres of blood to show how much he appreciated his father. Makoto folded over, woozy, and hugged his beloved child, who was now as long as he was tall.

Death by boner, what a way to go.

Suddenly his leg shot out, kicking a hole in the brickwork opposite him. His sandals exploded as his feet doubled in size, popping and contorting as muscle and bone expanded beneath his skin. The remaining tatters of his legskins gave up the ghost as his calves and thighs followed suit, granting him the power to stand. His body felt misshapen and unbalanced, his cock bowing under its own weight, dragging in the dirt as he took one shaky step forward. Before he could take a second, his pecs ballooned to cartoonish proportions and his shirt screamed bloody murder as it stretched into a glorified paint job. He sneezed and the shirt burst into confetti, exposing his CD-sized areolas and bullet-hard nipples. He looked past them to his abs and with a barely audible pop, they filled out into beefy cobblestones. Skeleton groaning under the strain as it rushed to keep up with the burgeoning muscles, Makoto hobbled out of the alley, gaining more HUGE with every passing second. Five metres, ten, twelve, fifteen, finally hitting a temporary peak around eighteen metres by the time he'd made it back to the spot where his troubles began. None of the buildings in town rose higher than his waist.

Haru ran down the street to him, doll-sized to his newfound scale.

"Help!" Makoto tried to whisper, but it came out as a thunderous hiss.

Haru tossed his hands up, dropping the clothes he'd brought. No pants on Earth could save him now, no matter how stylish. Terrified that he'd crush him if he tried to pick him up, Makoto knelt and spread his hand. Haru had other ideas, instead heading for his colossal cock. Despite fervent protest, Haru stripped down to his jammers, lifted Makoto's foreskin, and crawled inside, letting his head stick out like a sore from some unspeakable STD. Stifling a sob, Makoto leapt into the ocean, apologizing for the wave that crashed onto the road, and ran until the metamorphosis was complete and he couldn't see Iwatobi anymore.

There was nothing but water around him no matter which way he looked and he was at a complete loss for what to do. Everything was not alright, not in the slightest. Going home was impossible as long as he was supersized—his height had more that tripled since the start of the run—and staying out in the open was dangerous. He didn't think the JMSDF would appreciate a giant monster man running around their territory. He'd seen enough kaiju movies to know what happened to trespassers in Japanese waters. Lasers! Guns! Bombs! Other monsters! They could fire depleted uranium cores out of a railgun at him and make him even more horribly mutated so they could cut him up for science and shame his family!

Thunder sounded in the distance. Preparing for the worst—which he decided was a sea monster with a radioactive railgun and laser eyes—he turned to see a gargantuan body hurtling towards him in great seabreaking strides. Mountains of muscle glistening with spray, a blazing field of hair that whipped the wind, pendulous wrecking-ball nuts beneath a tool of mass dickstruction, and a grin that spelled death for anyone who crossed it united to form a sexual titan descending from the heavens to bestow his blessing upon the earth. Or in less flowery terms, Rin.

 "Long time no see!" Rin boomed, coming to a halt. "Been missing you at Samezuka. My guys're ready to stomp yours whenever you get a chance."

"We've got more important things to worry about right now!" Makoto yelled, forgoing his usual niceties. "We're gonna be stuck as giants forever and the military is going to blow us up!"

"I'm guessing you took some PriaMAXX? Didn't think you were the type to be interested in that kinda thing. Not that I am, I was hung like a horse already, I just happened to find a bottle and—"

"I won't tell anyone if you don't."

"I can live with that. Anyway, you're not going to be stuck forever. You read the instructions, right?" Rin asked, eyebrow perked. Makoto let the pause hang longer than he should've. "You didn't. Well, long story short, the dick enlargement is temporary, so the rest of us should go back to normal too. No worries."

"I want to believe that, but if it doesn't work—"

Rin cuffed him on the shoulder, trying to bring the mood up. "Hey, sit back and enjoy the ride. We're fuckin massive!"

"I was big enough already, thanks," Makoto replied, harsher than he'd meant to.

"You never wanted to be huge as a kid? I guess you were always on the big side, but still. Hold that thought."

Smiling sheepishly, Rin sat down and a few seconds later there was a mighty rumble as the sea behind him bubbled like a witch's cauldron. Scores of dead or dying sealife floated up on the roiling waters, ranging from common fish and floor-dwellers to sharks, dolphins, and most impressively, a large sperm whale. A dense sulfurous odor blanketed the water, wafting upward with the breeze. Makoto refused to breathe for the next few minutes lest he catch a whiff of the deathcloud and perish himself. He could imagine no death more ignoble.

 "I was testing protein bar recipes," Rin explained. "You know what that does to you."

He squinted at Makoto's dick.

"Is that Haru? What're you doing in there?" Rin stuck his hand out, letting Haru crawl into his palm. "Wanna race? I'd like to see you beat me now, punk."

"Please be careful. You might not mean to hurt him, but that doesn't mean an accident won't happen."

"It's fine. I'll be gentle," Rin assured him as he wandered off with Haru cupped in his hands.

"On second thought, we should take him back to land. He'll be safer there," Makoto said, but Rin was lost in his own world, rambling about recent goings-on in his life and intermittent tangents about how there'd be no competition in the pool for him when he was this size.

"You're awful cute like this, Haru. I could just about..." Rin tossed him into the air with a wicked grin and opened the shredder he called a mouth. "Eat you up!"

His teeth snapped shut around Haru with a harsh clack. Makoto screamed and clasped his hands over his face as Rin made a big show of chewing his longtime friend to bits. If that was being gentle, he didn't want to know what he considered being rough. Rin tilted his head back and swallowed, tracing a finger down his throat so Makoto knew exactly where Haru was headed. After the finger hit his stomach he gave his abs a leisurely rub and licked his chops.

"Fishy."

Makoto seized Rin by the shoulders and shook him. "How could you do that? Spit him up right now!"

Even if there was nothing left but mangled pieces, he had to recover Haru's body and give him a proper burial so his spirit could rest. Rather than apologizing or expressing remorse, Rin burst into laughter and it was one of the rare times Makoto had wanted to punch someone in their face. Not just punch it, pummel it until there was no face left to punch and then punch some more. Haru was dead because of him and he didn't care.

"Easy there." Rin opened his chompers with a smirk and lifted his tongue. Bedraggled but alive, Haru staggered to his feet and crawled back into Rin's hand.

"Give him back!" Makoto lunged at Rin, only for him to dance out of reach.

"Let's have some fun with him before we go home. That alright with you, Haru? Look at him nod, he's such a freak. You want first go or do I get the honour?"

He didn't want any numbered go of anything he suspected Rin had in mind. "If your idea of having fun is eating him, then the party train stops here. Give him back, I'm going home."

"Hey, it's the military." Rin pointed to a spot behind him, pulling a concerned face.

"I'm not dumb, that's not going to work on me. Now give Haru back!"

"No, I'm serious, it's the military." Rin plopped his hand onto Makoto's head and turned it to face the Murasame-class destroyer and P-3C Orion speeding towards them.

The destroyer parked itself a safe distance away from their legs while the Orion began circling their heads like a persistent mosquito. Uniformed specks marched onto the destroyer's deck while the 20mm Phalanx CIWS mounts trained on one giant each in what was intended to be a display of force, but mostly reminded Makoto of the games he'd played with toy ships as a child. The crippling fear he'd held of being torn asunder by the JMSDF seemed foolish when he realized how puny they were in comparison to him. Rin looked even less impressed. How could a bunch of specks handle something as big as that ship?

"Gentlemen! This is the JMSDF and we are formally requesting that you cease being giant immediately! Failure to comply will result in armed retaliation!" commanded the gruff, crackling voice of a megaphone-wielding officer.

"Keep an eye on Haru for a sec, I'll handle this."

Rin passed Haru off to Makoto and snatched the Orion out of the air. He snapped its wings and tail as easily as toothpicks, then set the mutilated craft on the destroyer's deck. The pilot maintained admirable composure as the torn fuselage keeled over, spitting sparks from its wrecked electronics.

"Thought you'd want that back."

The ship's guns began firing upon him, but he simply snorted, twisted them off their mounts, and chucked them into the sea, no worse for the wear aside from a few bloody pinpricks on his leg.

"Now you're gonna go away and you're not gonna tell anyone what happened here, got it?"

"B-But..." the officer sputtered, torn between helping the Orion's crew disembark and keeping the enemy engaged. "We have a sworn duty as members of JMSDF to uphold order in our waters! We'll never surrender to your terrorist threats!"

Rin bared his teeth, running his tongue over the dagger points. "Careful what you say. A bunch of delectable little morsels like you wouldn't want to get bitten."

"I just watched him eat his best friend," Makoto offered from the sidelines. "It was horrifying."

The megaphone hit the deck as the officer scrambled to the control room and within minutes the destroyer turned tail and fled from sight.

"What a bunch of pests," Rin sighed, hip cocked and loaded. "Now if you don't mind..."

He stuck his hand out. Makoto hit a tentative lo-five on it.

"Thanks, but I meant I'm taking Haru back. I wasn't finished playing with him."

"He's not your toy," Makoto said, cradling Haru closer. Being a responsible giant meant protecting the humans—especially the ones named Haru. "Or your lunch."

"I'm not gonna eat him. What do you think I am, a cannibal?"

Had he asked any day prior, he would've settled for maybe, but his current behaviour hadn't been doing him any favours. "I'm not comfortable with you holding him. It'd be better if I kept him with me for now."

"Why don't you let him decide instead of making assumptions about what's best for him?"

"Do you want Rin to hold onto you for a bit longer?" Makoto asked, hoping logic would prevail. It didn't and he had never cringed so hard in his life. He didn't understand how Haru could want to be carried around by someone who was more than happy to stuff him in his mouth. "I guess if that's what you really want..."

He placed Haru in Rin's expectant palm and waited for the next disaster to strike.

"Nice to have you back, shortstack." Rin gave him a kiss that engulfed his entire body.

Makoto grabbed Rin's wrist and crushed his own lips down atop Haru, supplanting the mark Rin had left. When he realized what he'd done, he stammered out the lame excuse, "I'm not—I don't—You've been monopolizing him this whole time!"

He had no idea what he was saying. He wasn't gay. He'd never been gay. Fantasies of his future revolved around him having a beautiful, loving wife, two kids, and enough cats to start a feline rugby team. And if Rin's preferences leaned deviant, it wasn't any of his business if he was attracted to Haru or if Haru enjoyed his attention. The supportive thing to do was to be happy for them finding love in deathfarts and eating each other.

He sincerely hoped they had found love beforehand.

"I'm monopolizing him 'cause he's mine. I give him what he wants." Rin's eyes glinted with mischief as he ran the broad pink plane of his tongue over Haru's tiny form.

A tiny, previously unknown part of Makoto snapped and he pushed Rin's head out of the way to kiss Haru again. It wasn't that he was invested in Haru's romantic adventures, it was that Rin wasn't a good match for him. Boisterous, competitive, vibrantly social and a romantic at heart—they'd be sick of each other within three months. Haru needed a stable person who supported him and could understand him without a word. Like him. Not him, of course, but along those lines.

Rin wrenched his hand free with a growl and then it was on for real, the giants smothering Haru with their affection. Bruising kisses racked up in the dozens and the more frantic they grew to get the last smooch, the more their lips collided with each other instead of Haru. Tired of pussyfooting around, Rin crammed Haru under his tongue and smashed his mouth against Makoto's. His lips were soft, but his technique savage, and Makoto buckled at the knees as Rin's tongue puréed his thoughts into mush. He'd never kissed anyone, not like this.

By the time Makoto's mind reconstructed itself enough to catch up, Rin flipped Haru over his lip and into his unsuspecting mouth. Haru rolled in the sea of spit, bumping against boulder teeth and scraping across rubbery gums. One wrong slip of the tongue and it was bye bye Haru, hello lunch. Scared to accept such a grave responsibility, he foisted him back into Rin's care and they began a dangerous game of trade-tag, sneaking him back and forth between one another, hyperaware of every inch of their mouths. Rin withdrew, slick lips hanging open as he panted, and Makoto could see Haru lounging on craggy white molars as if he was soaking up the sun on the beaches of Nuku Hiva. Rin fished Haru out with his finger and popped him into the cozy folds of his outer ear.

"You're so fuckin hot," Rin purred, mouthing from the hinge of Makoto's jaw to his collarbone. "I always liked how big you were."

Childhood friend confessing that he found him attractive? Check that off the list of things Makoto didn't expect to hear today. He was flattered, in spite of everything.

Rin shifted to catch Makoto's delicate windpipe between his canines and squeezed just enough to pierce the bronzed skin. Fat droplets of blood trickled into the valley between his pecs and quavered with his shivering breath into the segments of his abs, then down to his awakening erection. Oh fuck, he thought, coming to an uncomfortable realization. Rin was hot. Really hot. Core of a white dwarf hot. He had functioning eyes, he'd always known Rin was attractive, but like Haru, he had thought of it in simple qualitative terms. Cats were fuzzy, the sky was blue, and Rin was a perfect ten. He had never felt it before except for the split second their eyes had met across the pool during one of the first meets they'd both attended and he had thought 'she' was the most beautifulest girl in the world and had to ask his dad on the way home, "Dad, I saw a cute girl and my wiener got hard, am I dying?"

He was starting to suspect the pills had altered more than his body.

Rin lapped the dwindling trickle of blood until his thirst had been sated, then cocked his head. "I didn't know you were such a perv, Haru. I like the sound of that."

Makoto could think of a thousand words to describe Haru and 'perv' wasn't one of them. "What's he saying?"

"He wants you on your back."

Eyeing the water with suspicion, Makoto asked, "You don't think I'll sink?"

"Aircraft carriers are huge and they float just fine. Here, I'll help." Rin kept a steady support between his shoulders with one hand and left the other free for Makoto to clasp as he eased him down. His grip lingered longer than needed, as if he were posing for the cover of a Harlequin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were falling for me."

"That was terrible," Makoto grumbled, wondering where the fire and lightning had gone.

"Not every line can be a winner."

Rin pulled Haru out of his ear and placed him on the head of his soft, behemoth cock. It took Haru a minute to gain his bearings, then he crawled across the smooth pink flesh in search of the pisshole. It was easy to find, owing to its considerable size. There was an inexplicable friendliness to it, as if it was welcoming him home with a smile. He had longed for such a greeting for years now and happily stuck one foot, then the other into the hole. The interior enveloped him in its warm wetness, pulling him deeper. He slid in to his knees, then up to his waist before pausing to decide if he wanted his arms at his side or above his head. He tucked his fingers to either side of his hips and craned his head back to take a final look at the outside world. The titan above smiled down on him, the one below looked horrified and nauseous. He projected a wave of assurance in Makoto's direction and the worry creasing his brow lessened. Haru straightened himself out and disappeared down the urethra.

The tunnel, smelling vaguely of piss, was tight and dark. He could neither tilt his head back to catch a glimpse of the sky nor move his arms. Around him the walls began to tighten, the muffled sweep of hand over flesh and the sound of rushing fluid filling his ears in a familiar lullaby. Precum rose around him and he took a hasty breath as it surged up past his neck. The flow subsided and he sank back down, enjoying a moment of respite, but it wasn't long until the cock tensed around him and again he was suspended, precum burbling in his nose as he inched closer to the sky.

Conventional time stopped. Heartbeats and twitches replaced seconds and minutes and as each gush of pre grew longer, the fear centre of his brain began to ring the drowning bell. He forced it to be quiet, wanting to savour the embrace. To be held so tightly was to be loved and to shun such affection was cruel. Beneath him the tide began to rise once more.

He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and surrendered himself to the prison of flesh.

Even in his giant form, Makoto felt small as Rin stood hulking over him and stroked himself out to full length, his cock brushing the bottom of his shapely pecs as he rolled his thumb over his pisshole to spread the steady stream of precum flowing forth. Riverblue veins jogged a country mile up his shaft, feeding the beast in preparation for the hunt to come.

It was at that moment Makoto realized he should've asked what exactly Haru's plan was.

"Wait wait wait wait! My body's not ready for this!"

Rin furrowed his brow. "What, you got a problem with blowjobs?"

"A... blowjob?"

"Yeah. Make no mistake, I'd love a piece of that, but Haru more or less said that no one gets your ass before he does. Dibs are dibs."

"Oh. That's fine then."

Rin went down on his knees, careful to keep his dickhead above the surface, and cupped Makoto's cock as though it was a holy artifact made to be worshiped. He sniffed it like a fine cigar, studying the different notes of sweat and musk, then layered kittenlicks on the underside, deliberately staying low on the shaft to omit the most sensitive bits, interjecting moans and snatches of praise as he worked. So good, so tasty, such a big, strong cock, want it, need it, fuck, more—the words buzzed in his ears, bouncing off each other, creating an inescapable echo chamber.

Frustration mounted in Makoto's mind as Rin switched to blowing puffs of air on his tip, alternating hot and cold. He could feel the tantalizing heat radiating from Rin's mouth and wanted it desperately, wanted to be inside him, and fighting the urge to grab him by the back of his head and slam him down to his nuts became unbearable the longer he played. Good things came to those who waited, he repeated over and over as Rin tapped his cock against his lips, splattering them with precum.

Turning his sultry, half-lidded gaze from the dick to its owner, Rin stuck his tongue out and swirled it over the head in a sinuous M. This was too much; Makoto covered his face with his hands, blushing nine kinds of red as the rest of his name was spelled out in looping Latin script. Even after the final O was signed he refused to peek, knowing that Rin was waiting for him to crack.

Eons passed and Rin did nothing. Not a touch, lick, or breath. Makoto's cock ached and he became painfully aware of how much sperm bustled in his ballsack, but he refused to beg. Eventually, he peeped through a gap in his fingers and immediately regretted it.

Rin nuzzled his cheek against Makoto's prick, staring up with doe eyes. "I'm so lucky I get to play with such a nice, juicy cock. So big and thick and hard. I'd love to ride it. Please?"

There was no doubt in his mind that if he let Rin have his way, he'd ride him until he smashed his pelvis to bits—and he wouldn't complain, because how could he when Rin looked like that? Rin could break every bone in his body and he'd find a way to make it feel so good he didn't care.

"Next time?" Makoto had no idea what kind of Faustian deal he was signing himself up for, but if Rin was going to break him, he wanted it to be when they couldn't wipe their hometown off the face of the earth by sitting on it.

"I'm holding you to that," Rin warned him, kissing his nuts. "But in the meantime..."

Rin looked towards the killzone his protein farts had left behind and grabbed the sperm whale. He held it up against the sky, studying it, wondering what had brought it to this part of the ocean. Did it have hopes and dreams before it had been assassinated? Did whales dream? What about its friends? Family? He felt himself go misty-eyed. It had been an accident, but he'd taken its life along with the lives of so many other sea creatures. He said a prayer for the whale.

Then he shoved it up his ass.

Makoto watched aghast, mouth gaping almost as wide as Rin's fuckhole as the whale's bulbous head disappeared in and out of it.

"If your mouth's not too busy, why don't you say hi to Haru?" Rin swiveled over Makoto, letting his bus-like cock dangle in his face.

Dicks were a daily part of Makoto's life. He'd seen almost the entirety of both Iwatobi and Samezuka's swim teams in the buff along with his dad and his little brother, but aside from his own, he'd never seen one this close. Or more importantly, this big. He could slap on an engine and a couple of wings and fly it to the moon or, at the very least, the limits of the stratosphere. Matsuoka Galactic: Showing You a Sight You've Never Seen Before! First rate suborbital space flights at the low low price of five million big ones and your anal integrity. It was that kind of dick.

His musing was cut short by a pair of hands wrapping around his own prick and a hot mouth descending on him with the vengeful fervor of a killer. Killer was the word for it for sure; what Rin was doing couldn't be anything but premeditated murder and he was more than happy to be the victim. Rin sucked him down to the root and hummed, sending vibrations that penetrated him to his marrow and kickstarted his heart thundering against his ribcage. He couldn't pick a single god, so he prayed the same thing to every one he knew, Please don't let me die of a heart attack while getting a blowjob—and please never let him stop.

Rin's lips broke free and between gasps, he wagged his tail with a devilish grin. "C'mon, fuck me."

The urge to have Rin keep doing whatever the fuck he was doing overwhelmed any iota of reason Makoto could've used to argue the benefits of not using animal corpses as dildos and he jammed the whale deep inside Rin, thrilling in the shower of praise and moans of adoration that came from on high—and that mouth! Blessed be whichever one of Rin's parents gave him that mouth, which had gone back to work gunning for employee of the month. Between the thick thighs framing his face, Makoto watched Rin's head bobbing and twisting while his hands wrung him dry.

Knowing it was only polite to return the favour, he reached up and guided Rin's oozing cock to his lips. He pressed the flat of his tongue to the helmet and felt a hard, fuzzy nub that he assumed was Haru's head. He didn't want to think of what it could possibly be if it wasn't. He didn't dare suck for fear of swallowing Haru, but lapped away, fonder of the salty tang than he expected he'd be. Each few licks he pumped the whaledo as hard as he could, then slowly drew it back. Maintaining a good rhythm was a struggle—especially with his lower bits occupied—but the last thing he wanted was for Rin to leave him high and dry again.

He felt his orgasm building up higher and higher, nearing the peak when Rin abruptly flung his head back and moaned the unthinkable:

"Oh god, it's still alive!"

"It's what!?" Makoto recoiled in horror as the whale began violently flopping around above him, screaming a tortured song.

The whale's thrashing drove Rin over the edge—cum erupting in a deluge of white lava, sending his penile passenger cartwheeling through the air. Haru skidded to a halt on Makoto's chest and after the initial shock wore off, he scampered towards the mountainous pecs to forge an expedition to the summit of Tit Peak. The going was slow since he was plastered head to toe with sperm, but with patience and steadfast determination, he managed to claw his way to the top to claim his prize.

Much like how he'd never seen another man's dick up close, Makoto had never played with his nipples. Half the time he scarcely remembered he had them at all, as if he had been drawn by a bunch of Japanese women who failed to understand the beauty of a well-sculpted chest with pectoral party hats. Even so, he knew there was something strange about his nipples as Haru massaged them erect. They were no longer the familiar nubs he had seen in the mirror countless times before. In fact, they weren't nipples at all. They were dicks! Or rather, some strange hybrid of the two, their function a mystery best left solved. Unperturbed by the anatomical anomaly, Haru sat astride the titty topper and went down hard, sucking it in like he was made for it.

"What a nasty perv," Rin laughed as he shat out the mostly alive whale. It landed back in the water with an ungraceful splash, entered labour from the trauma, and gave birth to a calf. They swam off to their uncertain future, leaving the depravity of the giant sex orgy behind. "Hey, you're leaking."

He pointed at a single drop of pearly fluid running from the tip of Makoto's unoccupied nipple.

"The pamphlet did say something about lactation being a possible side effect, now that I think about it."

"It did?"

"You really should read more than the dosage instructions. Great timing either way, I was getting thirsty."

Hellbent on quenching his thirst, Rin latched onto the milk dispenser and suckled greedily, occasionally giving Haru a fond nudge as he pistoned away atop the dicknipple, balancing on the shifting land with practised ease. Makoto struggled to stay afloat as the dual front assault intensified. The itch resurfaced at full force and the more he squirmed, the more powerful it became until his chest burned redhot with the urge to scratch. His outrageous pecs doubled in size, mammary glands glutted with mysterious fluid. Cum? Milk? Both? Or neither? If he were to let it flow, what mysteries would spill forth? Up! Up! they swelled, stretching his golden skin to its limits. The drops came steady now, foretelling of greater things to come and his chest ached with the weight of the sloshing titjuice and the escalating pressure in his nipples. He whimpered in agony, tits ready to burst.

"GIMMIE THE MILK!" Rin roared, giving the teat a final tug.

Manmilk exploded forth in a flood of biblical proportions and Rin wholeheartedly guzzled it down while Haru blasted off into the blue, pioneering a bold new field of dairy-based travel. The arc he struck was impressive, breaking through a few errant clouds, but like so many other good things, his flight fast came to an end. He crashedlanded on Rin's head and watched the excess milk spill into the ocean, giving nourishment to the sealife around them.

"Your milk tastes amazing," Rin groaned, savouring the last mouthful. "You'd make a killing selling it."

"I'll take your word on that."

"You don't have to." Rin hocked a spitwad between Makoto's parted lips.

Makoto sputtered until a powerful creamy flavour spread across his tongue. "Oh. That is good."

"I know, right? Hey, you still alive up there, Haru?"

Rin fetched their tiny comrade from his perch and checked him for damages. Nothing serious, though his normally sleek stomach was stuffed round with milk. Rin pressed it with his ring finger and watched milk arc out of him like he was the Fontana di Trevi.

"Riddle me this, shortstack: how are we gonna take care of this guy?" He gestured to the pylon of flesh jutting from Makoto's groin. He bowed his head and a razor sharp smile split his cheeks as the master plan was revealed. "Fancy a stroll, Makoto?"

They jogged to Mizushima Island and Makoto bent over the beach at Rin's command, sticking his blockbuster ass out and hoping for the best but expecting the worst, given all that'd happened so far. Rin slurped on his fingers and pried Makoto's anus open. The burn reawakened his flagging erection and Rin wasted no time gaping Makoto as wide as he could handle. His insides went into a twitching frenzy, trying to wink shut as a sharp breeze soared through his exposed guts.

Rin made a bridge of his hand, opening to the path to Haru. "You ready?"

Haru wanted to laugh. Rin had no idea how long he'd dreamed of this moment.

He'd harboured a secret fascination with giants as far as he could remember. It had been innocent at first, an entrancement with the tall silhouette of his father as he walked out the door in the mornings, the hugeness of his mother's fragrant hands on his face, the shocking upstart when Makoto outgrew him in elementary school and never stopped. He began noticing how they filled his morning cartoons and the books of mythology he obsessively borrowed from the library, heroes and villains in equal turns, each one divine in their own right.

His earliest depictions of humans were goliath even compared to the slapdash proportions of child art. Every man twice the size of his house, every woman tall as a willow, but no, the art teachers scolded him, real people didn't look like that. He was talented, so he should be a realist. He quietly conformed the art he did around others to match their desires and tucked his supermen away in the collection of sketchbooks beneath his mattress. Through the years his subjects grew until they were so far beyond the reaches of human limits that he measured their scale not with numbers, but skyscrapers, mountains, and planets. Their muscles were flawless, their cocks earth-shattering, their beauty empyreal, and their power vast beyond his wildest dreams. The world bent to their whims or suffered the consequences.

In the years when he'd quit swimming, cruel gods reigned over his sketchbooks, tormenting first hordes of faceless strangers, then him. The realization of how insignificant he was in the face of his graphite deities freed him in a way the water once had. They wouldn't pressure him into succeeding in something that only hurt others. They couldn't care less about his mortal woes, no matter how talented he was. He was an ordinary insect among millions. They could swallow him in one bite, crush him with a careless blow, and there would be nothing he could do about it. It was terrifying.

And arousing.

"Hit me three times if you need out. Tap once to tell me you've got it."

Haru slapped Rin's finger, knowing that it felt like nothing more than a mosquito bite, and turned to see his cathedral in all its glory. The sheer scale was awe-inspiring. The vaulted ceilings, webbed with blue veins, glistened in the sparse light. His feet squished as he took his first few steps into the hidden, forbidden holy ground, then he threw care to the devil, got a running start, and penguin slid down the length of Makoto's rectum, catching sick air on the ridges before crashing facefirst into a smelly dead end. He wiped himself off the best he could and studied his surroundings. The light was faint here and the smell pungent, but it was still the cleanest asshole he'd ever been in. To be fair, it was the only asshole he'd ever been in, but it was setting a high standard for future anal expeditions

He wandered back and forth, committing every divot and ridge to his memory banks in order to draw them later. It would be his finest work yet. Perhaps he'd be bold enough to submit it to the school's annual art contest. He cycled through potential titles, oblivious of how the heady stench of sulfur, rot, and chlorine muddied his senses until he was staggering around in a dizzied stupour, unsure which way was which. The slimy, pulsating walls called to him; he answered, pressing his face to them to suck their bitter mucous. The consistency reminded him of natto. That meant he must be a bean, a tiny undigested soybean soon to be shat out and flushed away. He grabbed heaps of anal snot and smeared it all over his body, committing wholly to his role. He looked to the path that led to Rin's fingers and freedom, faintly aware that the light was growing dimmer. The stench intensified as the window to the outside grew smaller and he swooned, dropping to his knees.

Rin's hand was so far away...

The world went black.

The temple became his tomb.

Eyes watering, Haru dragged himself towards the exit. The walls of the chamber began closing in as Makoto's body tensed, preparing to blow his load. Contractions came faster, stronger now, and Haru's cock throbbed in time with each wave that shuddered through Makoto, giddyhigh as the breath was squeezed out of him. Haze weaved through his mind, the deliciously nauseating scent knives in his nostrils, carving a line through the cartilage and slicing into his brainstem. This was a different kind of freedom. Even his fantasies couldn't come close to this sensation, the undeniable realness of his mortal limits. He wasn't a genius or a prodigy or anything those strangers called him. He was a pathetic bean who was going to die in his best friend's bowels and he didn't care.

Gathering the last of his strength, he permitted himself to perform one more extraordinary feat.

He was going to service a god.

On the outside, Makoto had fallen into a panic after Rin removed his fingers, fearful of the consequences.

"Are you insane? Why'd you pull out? What about—Haru!" Makoto dug his nails into the sand as an intense pleasure tore up his spine and sent him into a string of prayers and oaths spoken with the eloquence of near orgasm.

"Seems fine to me." Rin aligned his rehardening cock with Makoto's and wrapped his hand around them, working them in long, twisting strokes. "He's giving you everything he's got."

The full weight of the situation crashed down around him. Haru was inside him, fucking him with the entirety of his being. He wanted him so bad that he was willing to put his life on the line for it. If that wasn't love, he didn't know what was.

He took his agonized pleasure out on the beach, clawing trenches in the shoreline as his balls swung forward with a stomach lurching gravity each time Rin's hand moved.

"Surf's up, shortstack!" was the only warning Rin gave before he pulled away and jammed the tip of his cock into Makoto's shitter, flooding it with cum. Rin kept jerking Makoto fast and frantic until he followed him screaming over the edge.

Makoto's first shot salted the earth, then a strong hand seized his cock and angled it up so the bolts that followed splattered his own face. He tried to turn away, but his head was shoved down, forced to confront the monstrous splendor of his own cock. Two shots and the rich aroma of his spunk had saturated his nostrils. Four and he had gotten used to the spray. Six and he opened up to taste himself, moaning with each lash of white across the roof of his mouth. Ten and the pulses began waning. Twelve and he was an emotional wreck, dreading the final spurt. Fourteen marked the end and he slumped boneless into Rin's arms. He hung there for a minute, relishing the feeling of Rin laving his neck and Haru swirling inside him before he extracted himself from the embrace and squatted over the beach. He opened the floodgates and let everything rush out at once. He strained until he felt a person-shaped lump pass through him and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw Haru floundering in one of the pits he'd dug. When the last bits of cum were purged from his system, he crawled a few steps to the side and lounged on the beach to catch his breath proper.

Rin plucked Haru out of the sand, dunked him in the ocean, then stuck his sopping wet body on Makoto's cheek and started scrubbing the cum away. After a few seconds he released Haru, rose to his full height, and announced, "Well, been nice seeing you, but I have to get back to campus. The cooking club invited all the sports captains to a tasting tonight and I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Gimmie a holler if you wanna go stomping again."

And with that, he bounded off in the direction of Samezuka Academy, land shuddering beneath his feet.

Haru spidered his way to Makoto's upper lip and made an ambitious leap, latching on to the tip of his nose. Makoto wondered if he had a latent affinity for rockclimbing. Haru dug his feet into the philtrum and shimmied upwards until he was safely clinging to the bridge. He graced him with one of his coy smiles before pressing his tongue to a nearby streak of cum and lapping it away. Makoto carefully picked Haru up, unnerved by his happiness.

"You wouldn't mind helping me clean?"

He knew the answer even before he asked, but part of him had hoped Haru wouldn't be so enthusiastic in his nodding.

Watching his reflection in the water, he set to cleaning the rest of the cum off himself with Haru, resisting his subconscious urge to wring him out the way he did with washrags at home. When the front was done, he rolled over, wiped his ass, gave Haru a final dunk, and called it a day.

He lifted Haru to his ear. "What do you want to do?"

"It'd be easier if we waited until the pill wears off before going home."

"Yeah, you're probably right." The swim back to Iwatobi's shore would be lengthy, but manageable.

"Can I go back in for a swim while we're waiting?"

"In?" Makoto set the gears grinding. "You mean my butt?!"

"It's roomy."

Makoto longed for the simpler times when he didn't know about the spaciousness of his colon. "No! My butt is not a pool!"

"Bellybutton?"

"You should be saving your energy for the swim home."

But Makoto laid out in the ocean and brought a wave rolling over himself anyway, making a pool in his bellybutton that he dropped Haru into. Haru splashed about in delirious happiness, his feet tickling the bottom of the pit. Over the horizon, a trawler gave a mournful honk, hailing a comrade. Makoto stared up at the wafty clouds as they scrolled across a sky straight out of a Windows XP default background. He would have to figure out what this meant for his and Haru's friendship—as well as his and Rin's. He presumed there was a protocol one followed when you became the destination of your best friend's anal voyage and if there wasn't, he'd have to make it up. For now, he didn't want to think about such complicated things. Makoto closed his eyes and soaked up the sun, surrendering himself to the cradle of the waves, and in that moment, he felt at one with the water, the universe, and his giant dick.