Cross Fusion, Chu!
Author’s Note: Enjoy the story and R&R.
This is Part 3 of “The Promiscuous Adventures of Hikari Netto” series. [All installments after Part 1 are prequels to Part 1]
- Part 1: “Ice Ice Baby” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/16696969)
- Part 2: “Tomahawk Soul” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/16772554)
- Part 4: “Hot Ice” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/17065376)
- Part 5: “Beyondard Redux” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/17437955)
- Part 6: “To²” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/17999135)
- Part 7: “Maha Special” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/18451190)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Rockman EXE series.
Pairings: Non-romantic Netto x Chisao + Kosuke, developing Netto x Tohru. Non-romantic Rockman x Chisao + Kosuke by proxy. Referenced non-romantic Netto x Dingo, non-romantic Dekao x Dingo, non-romantic Chisao x Kosuke.
A Dimensional Generator malfunction leaves Hikari Netto trapped in Cross Fusion, at the mercy of Oyama Chisao and Kosuke, who wish to thank him in a special way for rescuing them during a virus scare.
Hikari Netto swung his equipped Wide Sword. A Mettaur slammed its pickaxe in close quarters, creating a spiral cyclone shockwave that narrowly missed its mark and grazed his shank. He couldn’t continue on like this. Day after day this week, the Net Police summoned him to quell emergency after emergency after emergency, and the job was wearing him down with what little sleep he got lately. His secret crush, Hikawa Tohru, was still not talking to him since Sunday night at Maha Ichiban, when Tohru walked in on him fornicating with Dingo behind the counter.
Netto had tried to explain, but Tohru remained reticent. He avoided Netto at school, and wouldn’t answer his emails. Meiru, Dekao, and Yaito noticed, but none of them dared interfere. The silence between the two suffocated. From an outside perspective, one questioned whether they were ever pals to begin with.
Engrossed in Tohru’s distant attitude toward him, Netto stumbled. The Mettaur landed a direct hit, sending him flying into a wall, cratering it.
Sequestered under a slab of blasted concrete, Oyama Chisao and grade-mate Kosuke huddled in fright. They were ambling to Higureya to pick up the newly debuted Maxima’s Warrior 3 VR RPG, which was receiving rave reviews, when Beast Viruses suddenly materialized and started randomly terrorizing the populace. While the danger posed by Dr. Wily’s follower, the Professor, had vanished, the network served as a haven for remnants of his troops, scattered during his initial raid on Japan’s viral research facility a year prior. The feral brood was known to rear its fangs in the real world on occasion due to previous exposure to the Professor’s manipulated creation, Zero.
The citizenry had been evacuated; however, Chisao and Kosuke straggled, finding themselves boxed in. Luckily, Netto skidded onto the scene on his roller blades, performed Cross Fusion, and reduced their numbers in glorious action-packed fashion to a single attacker.
Except that critter was now doggedly walloping the peacekeeper who so rudely obstructed its slavering hunt.
“Battle Chip! Flame Line!” Singeing his armour, Netto invoked an embankment of fire, deleting the snarling Mettaur before it gored him on its tusks.
“Netto, chu!” Chisao yelled.
Seeing him injured, the lil’ gumdrop and his capped cohort rushed to his aid once the inferno waned.
Kosuke lent Chisao his PET, as the walnut-head’s father still refused to grant him his own NetNavi, despite his son’s NetBattling acumen.
“Hang on, chu!” He ejected the PET’s touch pen, and pressed its nib to R-Rockman’s emblem, dragging a luminescent arc to the terminal’s screen via the mark and accessing the PET’s built-in Battle Chip Gate. “Battle Chip, Recovery! Slot-in!”
A purple aura spread across Netto’s body, and he instantly felt revitalized.
“Thanks, Chisao! You’re a lifesaver!” He tested his muscles. “But something’s wrong. The Dimensional Area didn’t deactivate.”
Netto’s observation was correct. The polygon-formed rainbow dome isolating the city block they were located in hadn’t receded. Usually, it dissolved automatically the second a threat was neutralized.
The culprit? A toppled cup of coffee, upended on the Ministry of Science’s control keypad by a distraught Eguchi Meijin.
“Until we get out of here, we should properly show our appreciation, chu.” Chisao traded shrewd looks with his schoolyard chum, his grin bringing to mind a melon slice.
Kosuke nodded. “Yes, thank goodness you arrived when you did, Netto-san!”
“It was nothing,” he snickered, rubbing the back of his helmet.
Considering how shoddily the Net Police treated him recently – the midnight awakenings, the gruelling hours, the stacks of paperwork – he concluded claiming credit for his heroics was the least he was owed. Yet, his pride didn’t prepare him for just how “thankful” the tagalongs truly were.
“Battle Chip, Green Rope! Slot-in!”
A batch of vines slithered out the asphalt, subduing Netto’s limbs.
“Th-this is –!”
Flicking his stylus, Chisao directed the creeper to strike. The thorny extrusion darted like a cobra and sliced open R-Rockman’s mouthguard, then encircled his neck.
Netto panicked. What was going on?
Kosuke stepped up to their captive rescuer, and surprised Netto by placing a sloppy kiss on his lips. Reflexively, the Net Saviour fought within his shackles, disgusted he was snogging a kid, but Kosuke messily tangled their tongues.
Extricating himself, the puggle gaily proclaimed, “Awesome! Netto-san and Rockman are the coolest!”
“Kosuke-kun, you’re such a perv, chu!” Chisao giggled.
“Ch-Chisao! Kosuke-kun! S-stop! Why are you doing this?” a teary-eyed Netto demanded.
“You’re our hero, Netto! Always protecting us, chu! Ever since we saw Nii-chama and Dingo doing naughty things together, we’ve been having fun too. We couldn’t stop dreaming about you, chu!”
Netto paled. So that was it. Chisao and Kosuke fast-tracked sex ed watching Dekao and Dingo, and in a sick case of copycat experimentation and idol worship, chose him as the unsuspecting subject of their exploratory games. God, it was too dirty to conceive.
Chisao returned to scrawling using his borrowed writing implement. The vines reacted to his commands, shredding R-Rockman’s suit, strategically meting scrappy gaps for his nipples and penis, before falling dormant.
The youngsters twiddled his nipples first. They were temerarious and inexperienced, more concerned with pinching and twisting his tits than genuinely pleasuring him. From their immature perspective, physical contact and gratification were congruous. But if that was their position, they were about to receive an earful.
“Ow! Cut it out, that hurts!”
“S-sorry, Netto-san! We-we’ll be gentler!” Kosuke lightened his touches. “Better?”
Netto didn’t respond. He tried to envision himself anywhere else, and failing that, fantasized about Tohru to calm down. He dreamed he wasn’t being manhandled by prepubescents, but by his true love. The figment helped dignify his otherwise precarious and licentious circumstances.
Of course, neither Chisao nor Kosuke grasped his infatuation for Tohru, and therefore interpreted his resignation and turgid stiffy as signs that he was becoming amenable to their furtive pastime.
“Battle Chip, Mag Bolt! Triple slot-in!”
At the keen roar, Netto’s heart rate increased. Dekao’s genius brother was lining up his signature move.
“Program Advance! Mag Shock!”
A high-voltage current tore through Netto. He and Rockman both screamed. The electrical stimulation and constant tactile abuse left his nubs painfully swollen and erect.
Ignorant of his discomfort, the pucks affixed their mouths to his bosom and commenced suckling like newborns.
“Give us some milk! Please, Netto-san!”
“It-it’s impossible! I’m not a girl!”
“Ehhh! Really?” Kosuke pouted. He buttonholed Chisao.
“It’s true. Only grown-up ladies like our mommies make milk in their boobies. But big boys make milk down here, don’t they, chu?” Chisao wrapped a puny hand around Netto’s apparent udder.
The eldest among them winced.
“Nii-chama and Dingo make plenty of milk whenever they play, chu.”
“I bet Netto-san makes the most!” Kosuke gushed. He descended upon him, and licked his cock like a lollipop.
“No fair! I called dibs, chu!” Discouraged, Chisao gargled his scrotum instead.
Netto didn’t know if Navis experienced sexual euphoria in the same manner humans did, but if it was anything like the sense of pain he and Rockman shared while Cross Fused, they were in trouble. Sure enough, Rockman’s cries soon entered his ears; they were hoarse, but Netto could definitely hear his best friend whimpering erotically at the phantom impulses inundating his processing unit, bleats Chisao and Kosuke misevaluated as praise, and thus accelerated their movements.
“N-Netto-kun. I feel weird…” his Navi’s voice cracked.
He closed his eyes. Shut out the noise. Chisao and Kosuke faded away. He wasn’t bound in vegetation. Tohru was there again, hunched between his legs and going to town. Netto ran his fingers gingerly through Tohru’s hair as he slurped his kunai and cosseted his pellets. Tohru dunked his tongue into his lover’s slit, propelling him to improbable heights.
Chisao and Kosuke double-teamed him, bathing his stick candy in saliva.
Netto spewed violently, spraying them with his gooey fluid. Although their faces took the brunt of it, Netto’s berries had stored up a decent haul, and he plastered Chisao’s yellow and Kosuke’s blue t-shirts in extra sap.
“A lot came out, chu!”
They smeared his cum around, collected the last errant beads of nectar from his drooping faucet, and frenched to clean the spunk off each other.
“Wow! When will I be able to squirt like that, Netto-san?” Kosuke extracted the residue on the rim of his baseball cap.
Netto panted heavily, worn out and quivering. His connection with Rockman severed, he shone blue, and reverted to tattered civilian clothing. The tendrils confining him putrefied, and his PET clattered to the ground. Rockman hunched over inside, grappling with unfamiliar sensations wrought by the computerized equivalent of a dry orgasm.
Now liberated, bare-bottomed in the middle of the street, Netto racked his brain in shame. They’d done the unthinkable.
What have I done? Dekao’s gonna kill me!
He was still in his skates, a detail especially piquing to Kosuke, who was peculiarly drawn to his feet. Netto sighted an inkling of a mini-boner in Kosuke’s orange cargos, and nearly went hysterically berserk as Kosuke pinned his socked ankles and Chisao ogled his uncovered lower half. No chance was he allowing them to get to fourth base!
Fortuitously for Netto, the Dimensional Area dissipated. Meijin and the Science Labs’ maintenance crew had completed repairs.
Cage riven, he leapt, knotted his shorts to momentarily re-establish their functionality, pulled up his pants, and reclaimed his PET. “That’s it!”
Saddened, the precocious hellions nonetheless adopted posts on his right and on his left. In lieu of his cheeks – Netto was too tall for them to reach – they laid pecks on his wrists.
“We love you, Netto-san!”
Strangely, when he gazed into their expectant starry eyes, his anger subsided. In an abrupt turn toward wizened and almost brotherly understanding, he apprehended what his approval meant to them. He was like an older sibling, teaching them the facts of life. Except for the passing alarm at the end where he feared they’d sail beyond arguable horseplay, he decided to excuse their overzealousness. His vivid imaginings of Tohru had also blunted the immorality of his and the boys’ forbidden venture, preventing any substantive lewd depictions of Chisao or Kosuke from planting long-term roots in his memory.
He actually laughed inwardly at Kosuke’s words, though. What did these upstarts know about love? For that matter, what did he know about it? Tohru wouldn’t even speak to him.
“Don’t make this more awkward than it already is,” he told them. “You had your fill. Let’s leave it at that.”
From there, he impassively carried out the rest of his responsibilities. He escorted Chisao and Kosuke to Higureya to buy their video game as they originally planned, and waited outside, as he’d be in a heck of a bind if his ripped apparel frayed apart in front of Higure-san and Shuuko-san. Then, he sent the children home, and slunk to bed for some much-needed repose.
“Rockman,” he mumbled into the sheets.
“Let’s not discuss what happened today ever again, okay?”
And they never did. It was just another secret stashed in the vault, like his feelings for Tohru.
But miraculously, the next sunup, Tohru approached him ahead of class, nonchalant and seemingly ready to listen.
“Good morning, Netto-kun!”
The oft-repeated hello put him in brighter spirits. Yesterday’s events forgotten, he smiled. Things might just work out after all.