"No need to be shy," Takaoka had told Nagisa, one hand on his lower back. "It's just a physical."
Nagisa grits his teeth as Takaoka runs his hands along Nagisa's calves, squeezing the muscles much too tightly to be any kind of useful test and smiling too wide to be concentrating entirely on Nagisa's health.
"You're going to need to take the rest of your clothes off eventually," Takaoka chastises him. "I was generous enough to check your lower body first, but you're starting to try my patience. You don't want to put your dear old dad through that, do you?"
Nagisa swallows. He knows he's only putting off the inevitable, but maybe if he stalls a little longer, time will run out, and he'll get to go home, and Takaoka will forget to finish the exam tomorrow, and—
Takaoka's fingertips dig sharply into Nagisa's thighs. "Well? Do you? Answer me, son."
"No, sir," Nagisa says, quieter than he means to.
"Now, now, none of that sir nonsense, I've told you!" He stands up, towering over Nagisa, doubly so with Nagisa seated in a chair.
"No, Father," Nagisa says through his teeth, and starts pulling up his gym shirt.
"You're going to need to take off that undershirt, too," Takaoka says. "And that looks too small for physical activity, anyway! Here, let me get rid of that for you, that's dangerous."
"It's fine!" Nagisa squeaks, desperately trying to hold back Takaoka's hands as he starts to take off Nagisa's binder. He gets a sharp slap to the face for his troubles.
"I'm not going to ask you again," Takaoka growls. "Take it off, or I tear it off." He smiles. "Those things are expensive, aren't they?"
Nagisa hesitates just long enough for Takaoka to raise a hand again, and then finally gives in.
"There's a good kid," Takaoka says, watching Nagisa far too closely as he wriggles out of his binder and places it carefully next to him on the ground. "No need to be ashamed of your body, you know. You've got a good one."
Nagisa covers his chest with his arms, as subtly as he can. It's cold, and he's embarrassed, and he doesn't like the way Takaoka is looking at him.
"I need those," Takaoka says, grabbing one of Nagisa's arms. Nagisa gets to keep one covering himself up, at least, as Takaoka presses his thumbs into Nagisa's left forearm, and then the right.
Then Takaoka grabs both his wrists and pulls them to Nagisa's sides, and Nagisa doesn’t even have time to curl in on himself before Takaoka says, "I'm just checking your heart rate, that's all.”
“Aren’t there—“ instruments for that, Nagisa starts to say, but the words vanish from his mouth as Takaoka leans in to put his head to Nagisa’s chest.
Whatever number he gets, it can’t be accurate—Nagisa’s heart is racing as he tries to breathe through the panic building in the back of his throat with Takaoka so close to him, his head practically nestled between Nagisa’s small breasts, too close, too close—
“Just relax, kiddo,” Takaoka says softly, breathing slowly against Nagisa. “You’ve been so tense this whole time, your muscles are gonna get sore like that.” He puts a hand on Nagisa’s left breast, and Nagisa jumps, starting to push Takaoka away, but Takaoka grips Nagisa’s wrists tight.
“I told you to relax, and I fucking meant it. Or do you want the rest of your little classmates to get the same treatment?”
Nagisa’s skin goes cold. It’s a trick, he’s likely already treated everyone before this as roughly and invasively as he’s doing to Nagisa, but if there’s any chance he’s telling the truth—
And it’s not as if he has much of a choice, not until the class figures out a way to get rid of Takaoka.
Nagisa holds still, and stays quiet, and breathes.
“There’s my good boy,” Takaoka mutters, and Nagisa jolts as Takaoka’s thumb runs across his nipple, hardened from the chill. “It’s so much easier for everyone if you just obey me. You understand, don’t you?”
Nagisa looks away—it doesn’t help at all, especially when Takaoka’s right hand comes up to cup his other breast, and his left starts pinching Nagisa sore. He bites his tongue against any noise he might make, in case it spurs Takaoka on—but Takaoka doesn’t need the encouragement, pinching and thumbing with both hands now, and it only hurts more the longer it goes on.
“You think they’ll get any bigger?” Takaoka asks, pinching between two knuckles with a sharp, bruising pressure that almost has Nagisa crying out. Almost. “You look so sweet like this, I hope they don’t. And it’s much easier to move around if you don’t fatten up like your old man.” Takaoka laughs, and this time Nagisa can’t hold back a pained gasp as Takaoka twists his nipples hard, to the point where Nagisa is seized by the irrational fear they’ll be torn off, before he finally lets go, leaving Nagisa breathing heavily.
“And they’re so sensitive, too, huh? Gotta be careful about that, wouldn’t want anyone to take advantage.” He brushes his thumbs over Nagisa’s breasts gently, almost soothingly, and Nagisa tries so hard but can’t suppress a shiver.
“Unless you’d like that.”
Nagisa’s stomach drops. He shakes his head, trying not to look as frantic as he feels, but Takaoka tuts softly. “Don’t lie to me, now. Let’s see if I’m right.” And in a flash, Takaoka’s hand is on Nagisa’s mouth, keeping him from screaming as his other hand reaches into the opening of Nagisa’s boxers, his fingers seeking his entrance.
Nagisa struggles, trying to bite Takaoka’s hand or struggle loose enough to push him away, but Takaoka squeezes the sides of Nagisa’s jaw until his teeth grind together. “Don’t interrupt me, now, or I’ll have to do something more drastic.”
Nagisa doesn’t know what that means, doesn’t have much of an idea of what it could mean, but the hungry look in Takaoka’s eyes shuts down the rest of his resistance. He sits quietly as Takaoka spreads his legs and presses his thick fingers to Nagisa’s pussy, dipping inside for only a moment before pulling completely back out, bringing his fingers close to Nagisa’s face.
“See that? That’s how wet you are, just from a little physical. Is that the kind of son I have? A slut?”
Nagisa has no words, no idea what he wants to say or what Takaoka wants to hear.
“You must be, if you’ve let me get away with this much. How disappointing.” His face darkens, and he lets go of Nagisa completely, picking up his binder from the floor and tossing it into Nagisa’s lap. “I’ve seen everything I need to see, I think.”
Nagisa’s frozen, unable to move, until Takaoka opens the door of the makeshift nurse’s office and calls out, “All right, who’s next?”
Nagisa hurries to put the rest of his clothes on.
“Oh, and by the way,” Takaoka says, as Nagisa pushes past him, “If you ever need some more personal training, you can always tell your old man!”
Nagisa doesn’t look back.