Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/4469684. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Persona_Q:_Shadow_of_the_Labyrinth Relationship: Arisato_Minato/Seta_Souji, Persona_3_Protagonist/Persona_4_Protagonist Character: Arisato_Minato, Seta_Souji, guest_appearance:_yukiko_&_kanji Additional Tags: Fist_Fights, Power_Dynamics, Exhibitionism, Blow_Jobs, Hand_Jobs, Frottage, Masturbation, Hand_Kink, and_one_terrible_pun._forgive_me, Plot What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, ..._porn_w/_some_plot??, Fluff, Community: badbadbathhouse, NOT_MUCH_BUT!!_THERE_IS_SOME_FLUFF, p4_spoilers_if_u squint Stats: Published: 2015-07-31 Words: 4814 ****** are you hitting on me ****** by yosuke Summary It's only natural, that they would be on edge. But sometimes fighting alone isn't enough to alleviate this. (originally a fill on the new p4 kink meme!) Notes this went from "hey i need to write more protagshipping" to "HEY i should make them fight" to "HEY THIS ANON ON THE KINK MEME WANTS PORN. WHY NOT" & now the world's largest nsfw oneshot is in my documents and i Hate My Elf THHE TAGS ALONE ARE SO INDECENT AND THE STORY IS!! EVEN WORSE!!!! I'M SO SORRY MOM anyway: Enjoy! ☆ i shall promptly go hide in the cube of shame . *this was the request! http://badbadbathouse.livejournal.com/ 745.html?thread=75753#t75753 See the end of the work for more notes "They annoy you." It's a statement, not a question, and Souji knows better than to feign refusal. He knows a lot of things, really; knows that they're supposed to be planning out the maps to their latest dungeon instead of bickering, knows that they're in a classroom – unable to be seen by the shells of fellow Yasogami students and stuck in eternal daytime, but in a crowded school building nonetheless – and thus lack any true privacy, knows that the sleep deprivation and stress regarding the endless labyrinths are clouding everybody's judgement, knows that Minato is purposely targeting his weak points only to rile him up. He also knows he's falling for it like rain does on the nights he has to stay up past midnight. "So does your team," he resorts, tone far too calm for the aggravation building up in his chest. His hands clench into fists. "I don't care what my team does," the Vice Leader stays expressionless as he fiddles with his MP3 player, and God, it pisses him off. It doesn't usually piss him off. Why does Minato have to be so... so apathetic, so irritating, so not who he truly is? Souji is glaring daggers at him and the guy won't even meet his eyes. "Then why are you not drawing the maps? You don't care if they get lost? Is that it?" "Why are you always fussing?" Minato raises his voice - it prompts Souji to do the same. "Because I'm their leader! And their friend, above all! Are you even friends with your teammates?" "... Some of them," Minato says with a scowl, and it's either the flash of uncertainty in his eyes or the way his shoulders tense, but Souji knows he's struck gold. He wants to dig even deeper. "You guys don't seem to have too much trust between you," Souji's back to a low monotone and what he says is a fact, both boys are aware. ... He has been itching to express concern over this, ever since they met after fighting the Queen of Hearts. He wanted to help them, maybe, to... He feels as if they're all struggling just to pull through, carrying burdens far too heavy for kids just as old as him, and his heart aches at the prospect of them crumbling – the Vice Leader at the nearby desk being his greatest concern of all. But right now? All he feels is exasperation. "At least they don't latch on to me like I'm all they've got." ... Oh – "Senpai! Partner! Sensei!" – that – "Are you really that weak-willed? How can you say you've accepted yourself when you base all your worth on just one person?" – that is it. Souji doesn't register when he lunges from his seat to shove at Minato, desk chair kicked inches behind him and notebooks sprawling on the floor, and "you call yourself a leader...!?" is the only line he delivers as he aims for Minato's face with a toned arm; his anger blinds him from fighting as effeciently, the impact of his friends, his companions being insulted reducing him to nothing but a desire to hurt the head of SEES. And so his fist connects with empty air. He slips. Minato is swift as ever, reflexes kicking in faster than he can think at the prospect of action - he's at the empty space between the teacher's desk and the windows in an instant, and his sheer excitement at getting to fight one-on-one chills him to the bone, makes him quiver with a burst of emotion that he can only feel during battle. Sweet. His trembling hand is already at the holster by his waist, Evoker cold and heavy and a familiar weight; but his guard is too off. Souji's grasp on his wrists is tight enough to break them should he move the wrong way, painful enough to make him growl, and the distinct sound of a thud is all Minato senses when he meets the ground and Souji is loomimg over him– Minato kneels him in the stomach. Souji's grip falters and he grunts before he leers, teeth bared and face flushed and his breath as hot as the rage inside him, and Minato lets out a snicker doused in mockery because, really... That's all he feels. They're both getting what they wanted after a day this long, aren't they? "What's wrong, Leader? Lost your cool?" "Will you shut up? Ugh, I just want you to shut up," Souji snarls and he doesn't believe he actually has to say this, not to the meek ally he has pinned down, not to anyone who isn't related to the murders. Doesn't believe he ended up in this position. "Make me," the words provoke. The slap that follows echoes through the empty classroom and Souji finds himself with his back to a bookshelf moments later, the mistake of letting go coming back in the form of a kick to the shin, and the glass shelves rattle when Minato retaliates with a punch right in his eye; it shocks him more than it hurts and that causes his emotions to dissipate just enough to laugh, to dodge a second hit by instinct (by habit) as he rises to his feet and to follow with a strike of his own. A yelp is heard and the sight of Minato holding his nose - eyes closed and a streak of blood dripping all the way to his neck - is only made clearer by the blinding sunlight, castsing shadows to Minato's hand and reflecting against red red red and its brightness fills Souji with satisfaction. "This is pointless," Minato grunts. It kind of is. "Is it? I feel strangely accomplished." "Don't you have any better ways to relieve your tension? I'm bleeding," Minato withdraws his hand as if to illustrate a point, brings Souji's attention to the drying blood around his mouth and on his fingertips, and if anything? Souji is a little proud, black eye notwithstanding. "As you should be," he smirks and he supposes it would suffice to end this here. Minato looks up at him, expression as unreadable as ever. He grins. "You don't want to challenge me, Seta." He rubs a sleeve at his nose to wipe what he can get, although it only aids in smearing the blood even further. Souji raises an eyebrow. "Bring it." Having served its purpose, the Gekkoukan jacket is shrugged to the floor in the seconds it takes Minato to push Souji against the wall and Souji wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him in closer, running a hand through his hair and opening his mouth, and Minato grabs him by the shirt and kisses him with force, makes it more than obvious that he has no plans of taking Souji to a candlelit dinner when he grinds their hips together and slides a tongue across Souji's lips. "Wait, th-there's," Souji stops him abruptly. His eyes are glued to the nameless students roaming outside the classroom. "Hm?" "The windows- any of our teammates could just... walk by and see us," he murmurs and Minato looks him over, a hand resting on the boy's thigh. "Do you like that idea?" "I – do you?" All Minato does is give an enigmatic smile and his fingers move further up to brush against his crotch, breath hitching when he feels just how hard Souji is already. "Wow... You're desperate." "Adrenaline," Souji shakes his head. Minato kisses his neck, mouth unreasonably warm and nipping at the skin determined to leave a mark, and Souji draws a shaky sigh as his own hands move lower and lower from Minato's waist to grab his ass. All competitive spirit seems to have been drained from him when Minato releases his shirt and starts to work at the buttons, thin fingers undoing them one by one to reveal a pale chest (except it's scarred, so many gashes and contusions a Dia just can't fade away, so much proof of the Shadows wanting to kill), and he doesn't let it go unnoticed. "Not putting up a fight anymore?" "Ah," Souji rocks his hips. "But it feels like I've won, haven't I?" "You brat," Minato hisses and Souji withdraws his arms, takes off his shirt and Yasogami jacket in a frenzy; they land on a chair in a crumbled mess, and he idly wonders if there's any chance of finding a clothes iron in this place. ... Probably not. He fidgets uncomfortably when he feels light blue eyes burning into him. "Not bad." Souji looks away, his face's cue to burn at the compliment. "You think so...?" he manages to stutter. "I sure do," Minato sounds amused and Souji mentally berates himself for showing vulnerability, but then his hand is dragged to be placed between Minato's legs and– ... Oh. Yeah. Sounds like he meant that. "So prove me right." Souji wastes no time in doing just that. He drops to his knees and works on Minato's belt like it's his duty, the clang of the buckle being undone drowned out by his own heartbeat; fast enough to be heard in his ears, to make him dizzy, equal parts nervous and enthusiastic. Minato fails to hide his perplexity. "And you're so... eager to do this, because?" "Been thinking of it for a while," is all he says. It's not a lie. Minato's boxers are blue, of course, and whatever taunt had found its way to his throat is lost when his erection is met with a hesitant hand above the fabric; bony knuckles stained magenta in four uneven bruises and long fingers steady; but Souji's touch is light and it screams inexperience, so Minato steadies himself on the nearest desk and brings his other hand to Souji's hair in reassurance, brushes through the soft gray locks in hopes it encourages him to do something. Souji hums and pulls the offending garments down to Minato's thighs. His cock is lying straight against his stomach, head already wet, and Souji can't help but gawk as a shiver runs down his spine - partly needing a moment to regain his composure and partly because, seriously? He's made the aloof SEES leader so hot and bothered that he's leaking. That is one thing to cherish. "... Dude," a rough pull at his hair stuns him out of his stupor. Right. "Sorry," Souji gives a sheepish smile, averting his gaze. "I was... enjoying the view." "Good grief." Souji licks his lips, wrapping his fingers around the shaft and teasing the head with a flick of his thumb, and the whimper this earns is the final push he needs to drag his tongue along the base and take the tip into his mouth. He's agonisingly slow. Sensation overwhelms both boys, making Minato squirm and Souji groan around him - the former throws his head back when the latter moves even lower, lets out a heavy breath when he starts to pick up a rhythm and strokes where his mouth can't reach. It's quite the spectacle, Minato notes through half-lid eyes; Souji's face is red in a blush, all the more illuminated by sunlight, hair growing increasingly messy the more he plays with it, and he doesn't protest when Minato pushes him down a little further, gentle as it is– no good if he makes Souji choke. Minato needs all the restraint he can gather so as to not buck his hips. He catches the transparent windows in his peripherals, not at all forgetting the chance of a teammate passing by at any moment, and the thought terrifies him in a way that makes him shudder, hyperaware of his surroundings, of how Souji teases with a hot tongue and his mouth tightens each time he swallows – An embarrassingly loud groan escapes him and he immediately covers his own mouth in shock. 'Oh my God.' His heart threatens to burst from his ribcage when Souji pulls back and looks up at him, and he has the gall to look smug, even with drool around his chin and his lips red and swollen... Minato feels lightheaded. "I'm sure somebody heard that," the look refuses to leave Souji, but the danger of getting caught is having just as big of an effect on him, if his tone of voice is anything to go by. "That- That's your fault," he blames. It's not as accusatory when he's obviously struggling to catch his breath. "You started it." "Can we NOT debate this when your hand is on my dick?" The sheer absurdity of the statement causes Souji to snort and Minato to frown in return - but then Souji jerks his wrist once, twice, smirks as strong fingers move in a steady pace and all frustration is forgotten. "Better now?" "Whatever," Minato grunts, and again shifts his attention to the windows. His hand hovers over his mouth as a precaution, not trusting himself to stay quiet with how- how amazing this feels, and he reckons he should be more concerned than thrilled whenever he hears steps approaching. "So... Y-You do this a lot?" he breaks the silence. "Punch people in the face and then suck them off?" "There was that one time," Souji leaves it at that. He... sounds serious. Minato turns to him – his line of questioning is cut short right away when he realises Souji's been palming himself through his pants. Oh, no he is not. "Mm?" Souji meets his gaze when the hand at his hair is gone, and he stops completely at the glare he receives. "What do you think you're doing?" Minato eyes Souji's lap, earning a scoff from the other boy. "What, are there rules I don't know about?" Souji is caught by surprise when Minato takes a step back and lowers himself to his height, bringing them to the same level; their faces so close that Minato's lips brush against his own; the dull ache of his knees on the cold wooden floor, the concrete wall behind him, the chatter of unrecognisable students right outside the classroom, everything hitting him all at once. He gulps. "I never said you could do that," Minato mutters and he kisses Souji softly, at first, before he pushes him back to straddle his lap and nibble on his lower lip - Souji wants to return the gesture, really, but with Minato's hands threading his chest, his arousal rubbing against his bare stomach, the threat of people walking in hanging above their hands, it's just... it's a little difficult not to get distracted. "Hahh–" "Shh," Minato quiets him, stroking his cheek as he fumbles with Souji's zipper; Souji whines when he ducks his head and bites down at the sensitive skin where neck meets shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave yet another mark, gasps when he's no longer confined by pants (terrible invention, truly) and slender fingers caress over his length, groans in vexation when Minato opts for touching his inner thigh instead. "H-Hey, not... fair." "Life isn't fair," Minato answers, predictably, and his hand keeps roaming everywhere but where Souji needs it. "I can't see – what if the others walk in?" This makes Minato pause. "Oh yeah... I forgot." He shrugs and continues as if nothing happened, and Souji can only hope his attention span isn't so limited when they enter their next boss battle. His eyes fixate on the door he can now see clearly, gray and metallic and most likely older than them combined. It's a moot point when he closes them shut as soon as Minato stops with the teasing and finally grips his length, and the moan that escapes him is muffled by the Vice Leader covering his mouth. Souji flicks his tongue in annoyance - 'I'll be as loud as I want, dammit' - and the offender remains unimpressed; he glances at Souji, eyes cold and indecipherable, and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Souji's lips part on instinct when Minato's fingertips meet them and he doesn't break eye contact as he sucks on the digits, one by one, feels a little high when Minato visibly shivers and his cheeks are coloured a wonderful red. His erection is aching. It takes a few moments for Minato to adjust his position, pulling back so he holds onto Souji's hip as he grinds against him, once, until he brings his now slick hand to wrap around both of them and moves. Souji inhales very audibly. Literally and figuratively, they are a bloody mess; Minato's face is flushed, the signs of having been in a fight presented as drying scarlet below his nose and circular drops on his white shirt, slight dents of nail marks where Souji hit him, dark hair disheveled from being thrown around; Souji's hands are at Minato's shoulder blades, his grasp unsteady and his body adorn in discolourations, pink and violet bite marks across his collarbone and a dull yellow around his left eye, and - albeit with difficulty - Minato still finds it in him to worry about the explanations they'll have to give, later. "So... What would you say if the others saw you like this? Right now?" "They won't–", he starts, and groans instead when Minato rubs his thumb over their heads, lets it echo through the room. Souji regains his composure and smiles, then, takes in the sight of Minato, pupils dilated and mouth half-open in a sigh, and he raises his eyebrows in contempt. "... You should see the other guy." "You're embarrassing," and Minato might be right but Souji kisses him to shut him up anyway, makes 'the other guy' hum into his mouth as he lets his tongue brush over Minato's (and it's light and gentle despite all, and really, how can Souji always be this careful?) and forces himself to keep his eyes from closing, just in case– The unmistakable sound of voices - Akihiko and Chie in a heated debate over efficient training - can be heard from considerably near the room, Souji realises in horror. Panic dwells in their chests but where he freezes, Minato just hisses and goes faster, eliciting a muffled whine. "We're going to get in so much trouble," Souji murmurs. Minato agrees. The voices fade farther away; they weren't headed in their direction. The rush of relief isn't enough to make their hearts stop racing. Souji presses his lips along Minato's jawline as the latter's pumps grow more and more erratic, and he stops entirely for a moment, seemingly in thought - then shrugs his shoulders and carries on. ... ? "What's up?" Souji breathes, finds it hard to even articulate his thoughts when every touch is making him shiver - the "never mind" he gets in response sounds unsteady, and Minato's hand is shaky when he lays his head on Souji's bare chest, his breathing warm. "I'm close," he warns, voice cracking; it's almost too much to hear. Far too much, so he looks back to the window, searching for familiar faces between the crowd, tries to listen to any background noise that might indicate they'll be discovered, finds great interest in the clear glass by the jade curtains and the rhythmic movement of the unknown students, as if on loop, feels all but intoxicated at the risk, and he yelps when Minato's grip on his hip turns so hard it hurts– definitely adding to his bruises– Minato exhales, weakly– and his voice is lost when he comes with a curse, body trembling, staining his hand and Souji's abdomen thick and white and sticky as his mind goes hazy and time stops. They stay like this for several moments. Minato's head is buried in Souji's neck as he holds still, slowly coming back to Earth as he goes softer and his breathing evens, and Souji... Souji is screaming on the inside. It doesn't help that Minato is still holding his dick when he peeks through the windows with a hasty jerk of his head, eyes wide in anxiety as he scans the crowd, before he visibly relaxes and turns back to Souji with look that can only be described as... fond. Affectionate, even. His icy eyes seem anything but, right now, half-closed and quite the matching pair with the slightest smile that's found its way on his lips, long bangs pushed so far back that his features are in plain view (Souji notices a mole under his right eye, wonders why anyone in their right minds would hide such a gorgeous face from the world) and it makes the boy beneath him squirm. "Was it as good for you as it was for me," Minato finally says, totally impassive. It breaks the illusion. Souji wants to roll his eyes, retaliate with a snarky remark, sound mad, perhaps, hit him in the face again; but he distantly recalls that oh yeah, he's wet and still too hard to think and covered in cum that is sadly not his own and Minato is already pulling back with no intention of staying on his lap, so he does none of these and lets his arms slump to his sides, defeated. "I'm not... done yet," he gestures. It's a lot more desperate than he wanted. Reaching for Souji's shirt from the chair where it had fallen, Minato cleans himself up with staggering nonchalance ("What–... Are you serious!?") and deems it appropriate to leave Souji as he is, it seems. His gaze never leaves the IT leader while he gets up and fixes his clothes - going as far as to straighten his damned bow tie - and his stare grows expectant when he sits on top of the teacher's desk, legs crossed over one another. It gives off an air of authority. "So take care of it." The request – no, demand, is clear as crystal. Souji fidgets. "You're an ass," he stammers but he complies right away, smears precum on his fingertips before he gives himself a few slow pumps, and he feels rather dizzy, knowing he's being watched. The touch itself is familiar - he decidedly prefers Minato's hands. His are smaller by a margin, more slender and with longer fingers that are only half as calloused, half as rough from carrying a lighter weapon and pace fast and careless in contrast with Souji's firm and careful; what is not familiar are the eyes centered on him, undoubtedly basking in his every move, his blushed face and ruffled hair and parted lips and chest rising with heavy breaths, the very real possibility of the door slamming open and getting caught in this compromising position, leaving no room for excuses... He needs to bring a left fist to his mouth, bite down on his already pained knuckles to stifle an obscene noise at all the overwhelming feelings and Minato hums in appreciation, the jerk. "You're easy to manipulate." This earns the SEES leader a questioning look. "It'd be good to watch out for that. Maybe one day, you'll be too blind with rage to make the right decision in an important situation... And things aren't going to be pretty." "I love when you talk dirty to me," Souji deadpans, if not a little shaky. Minato chuckles in response. "Ah. I'm just looking out for you." ... Yukiko and Kanji's voices. They can hear their voices. They sound close. They sound metres from the classroom. "Whaddaya mean, a ghost!? That thing was an FEO! Ya seriously trying to scare me?" "Huh? I'm not trying to scare you. You just seemed to be so... clueless." "A-Are you sayin' I'm dumb...?" "Of course not. Although, they are called FOEs..." The alarm bells ringing in Minato's mind are deafening – he catches a glimpse of bleached hair and a red cardigan at the end of the corridor as the voices fade in the distance. They didn't notice. But if Yukiko had looked to her right... Covering himself on reflex, as if it would've made what he's doing any less obvious, Souji is 100%, absolutely certain of one thing at this moment: he's going to die. He's going to die, right now, half-naked and full of hickies, lest we forget that he's jacking off in front of the Vice Leader. What would Dojima say? How is he supposed to explain this to the funeral practitioners? C-Can makeup even conceal black eyes!? "... Calm down. They're going somewhere else." ... Y-Yeah. Yeah, Souji guesses. It's almost humiliating, how wonderful this scare feels. Minato nods in affirmation. "Only I can see you." With a shudder, Souji goes back to stroking himself, only to slow down painfully when he realises - to his dismay? shame? relief? - that he's just nearing the edge. "That doesn't mean... D-Doesn't mean you can stare at me," he tries. "Close?" "You have no idea." Minato jumps from the desk and leaves Souji no choice but to look at him when he cups his chin, shoving his hand away with force to replace it with his own; it's just a few hard movements before Souji leans his head back and finishes loudly, remembers where they are a second too late in a futile attempt to drown it out, gives it up when he hears Minato's sharp intake of air and adds to the mess on his chest with his own cum, can't find it in him to think of anything but the boy holding him down until he's ridden out his climax and he suddenly feels... Exposed. Exposed and... sticky. Ugh. Souji looks down, only a little impressed by the abstract art on his naked chest, the set of three - barely visible to him, extremely so to anyone else - bright marks across his neck and the distant pain of the blows he's received to the face. Minato takes advantage of this to run his fingers over the aforementioned marks and kiss his forehead; the innocence of the gesture makes a comical contrast with Souji's physical and mental state alike. "I'm a wreck," he concludes. "You're welcome." How'd it come to this...? Souji nudges Minato, slightly, and when he lets go he zips his pants before rising up to search the room for the remnants of what was once a shirt. He spots it tucked below the stacks of bookshelves, ruffled beyond salvation and covered in a thin layer of dust, and he grimaces when he picks it up and examines the stains. He can't... wear this. Not with Minato's cum smeared along the sleeves. "Why did you even do that...?" "Huh? Oh... To mess with you, I guess. And it was all we had." Souji doesn't have it in him to keep complaining. It is some pretty solid logic. The cloth is once again discarded after a few scrubs, and Minato is taken by surprise when Souji pulls him into a hug, having been playing with his earphones. "... Sorry for what I said, earlier. It was out of line." "You can't seriously be doing this," Minato grumbles. He wraps his arms around Souji's waist all the same. "Er... We wanted to fight. Don't worry." Souji gives a small nod and pecks Minato's cheek, speaks softly into his ear with no intention of dropping the sentimentals. "I worry about you." "Urgh." If Minato rests his head in the crook of Souji's neck it most certainly isn't to hide his darkening blush, unfamiliar with the displays of kindness, nor anything resembling a nervous smile. No way. After a peaceful silence, he wordlessly lets go and makes his way to where their maps had fallen. Souji watches in confusion as Minato bends to his knees to pick up the papers. "Stop being a sap... Leader. We've got a labyrinth to explore." "... R-Right!" Minato brings him to a halt when Souji rushes his way; he tilts his head, bringing attention to Souji's still bare chest. "Get dressed." He looks down at himself, eyebrows furrowed, and when he figures blood-and- ejaculate isn't quite the latest fashion trend he merely picks up the Yasogami jacket, resigned. All the buttons done up and the gakuran's tall collar pointedly concealing the state of his throat, Minato's already taking notes of which walls contain secret passages when Souji sits next to him. They're back to drawing the maps as usual; tentatively, Souji rests his hand on Minato's, and he smiles in relief when the other boy intertwines their fingers. "What did you want to say earlier?" Souji asks after a while, an afterthought in the back of his mind. "Hm?" "Before you... Um," he coughs, cheeks tinted pink. "You were about to say something. Was it important?" "Oh. I thought I heard someone coming." "You did?" Minato hums, never looking up as he scribbles the location of a Power Spot. "That was me." Souji says nothing as he rises from his seat. Calmly walks away. Turns the door handle and leaves. It's not until he's stepped out of the room that he breaks down laughing, loud and the furthest thing from elegant, and Minato thinks to himself that it was worth it. End Notes http://2-shane-s.tumblr.com/post/40405095111/meduring-sex-i-think-i- hear-someone (sweats) w ell then. if u need me i'll be in the trash can :^D Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!