Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10726734.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Persona_5, Persona_Series
  Relationship:
      Kurusu_Akira/Arsene_(Persona)
  Character:
      Kurusu_Akira, Arsene_(Persona)
  Additional Tags:
      Riding, PWP, Self-cest, i_mean_kinda
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-25 Words: 2088
****** mon petite ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Arsene's clawed hand has him by the neck, pressing him against the
     bricked wall of the Velvet Room cell, the mask on the Persona's face
     finally ablaze. His other hand clenches and flexes sporadically, no
     doubt trying to direct his anger elsewhere.
     "If we will not learn to accept discipline," he spits, finally
     straightening out into his full height. "Then perhaps you can learn
     the meaning of submission."
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
It is an empty Velvet Room that greets Akira when he enters from the alleyway
door.
The wardens are not barking orders at him, or demanding to know when he will
fuse their next requested Personas, but have abandoned their posts. Igor does
not greet him with a snide remark or provide him a new strength.
It is just him within his cramped cell. 
Akira wonders to himself if it's simply a dream of the Velvet Room when he
feels his handcuffs and the ball and chain around his ankle still. It's the
real deal...
So why was he here?
The cold floor wasn't any warmer when he approached the cell bars barefoot.
Akira put his head through the openings, attempting to crane his head around to
get a better view.
Nothing.
A search would be for naught, he decided. He would wake up in the morning and
simply go by his own admission. Forgetting a meeting is a human trait...
Assuming the tenants are even human.
Akira turned to return to his bed when another man coughed.
On the prison bed sat Arsene himself, his arms crossed and his one leg arest
upon the other. The tip of his shoe clacked against the ground impatiently. 
"Perhaps it is time for a talk."
Akira found himself simply staring at his Persona with confusion. Arsene leaned
on his elbow, allowing Akira to see his mask wasn't showing any expression. The
teen processed his sentence, before leaning on the cell wall.
"Alrighty. Shoot."
Akira could feel Arsene sizing him up. 
"It is about our... Recent performances."
Missions, Akira corrected mentally.
"I have observed your recklessness through our eyes. I very much doubt that you
understand this correlates with your regular mishaps within your escapades."
"You sound like my teacher." 
Arsene's head cocked to look at Akira with what he could only assume was
growing annoyance. Arsene rose to his feet, slightly hunched to stay close to
Akira's height, heels scraping across the floor as he began walking.
"A dire shortage of medicine when people trust you to get some as a leader.
Reckless stealing in Palaces leading to discovery. Just the other day you
escaped Mementos by the hair off your neck, and your party was too injured to
go out the next."
"You really sound like a teacher, man. Are you sure this is my conscience?"
"What I am sure of," Arsene retorts. "Is that you should listen to yourself and
begin paying attention to the actual tactics of proper thieves and rogues. We
are as one, and I do not wish to perish due to your misdoings. One battle could
be your last."
"We can tank through things fine." Akira leaned against the wall, crossing his
arms. "We've lived up to this point, and we can keep doing it as long as
everyone listens to what each other s-"
The teen jostled backwards as Arsene's clawed finger pointed at him.
"You listen to 
me,
 boy. I will function as your conscience, as you say. And I say that you
will perish less you realize that the people you are facing are tricksters as
yourself." Arsene's voice was slicked in spite and poison now, his words not a
request now rather than a demand. "We will die, boy, and that is not the fate
either of us wish. Do I make myself clear?"
And in all honesty, it was clear. Something Akira actually was taking to heart,
yet Arsene seemed to not be that connected to his mind to realize. Akira sized
up and stared at the winged Persona, and simply wondered six words. How mad can
I make him?
 
It was a rebel's instinct and the option of a man convinced he would wake up
upon any bodily harm. 
Akira looked up at Arsene and stuck his tongue out.
The Persona looked down upon him like he had grown a second head. The air was
intercepted by a pregnant pause, before Arsene's mask flared to life, wings
flooding the cramped cell as he let out a frustrated roar and lunged towards
it's user.
Arsene's clawed hand had him by the neck, pressing him against the bricked wall
of the Velvet Room cell, the mask on the Persona's face finally ablaze. His
other hand clenched and flexed sporadically, no doubt trying to direct his
anger elsewhere.
"If we will not learn to accept discipline," he spits, finally straightening
out into his full height. "Then perhaps you can learn the meaning of
submission."
Akira could only squint up at the winged Persona before the world was flooded
by a flurry of feathers and reds and blues, turning him so fast he could barely
register what happened before it stopped.
He felt a sensation behind him as he found himself sitting not on his bed, but
Arsene's lap, facing away from him and towards the bar.
Arsene's claw had moved from his neck to his chin, his thumb on his lip in a
firm grip, his other hand on his waist. The Persona's anger seemed to melt into
smugness in an instant as Akira heard a deep chuckle right by his ear.
"We are frustrated, aren't we? I have seen what you see through our eyes, boy.
What you do. What you feel." 
Akira could only clench his teeth and shudder as Arsene's deep voice racked
through him and sent a shiver down his spine.  Nights alone weren't things he
would expect a reflection of himself to bring up, but then again he wasn't
expecting to dream of said reflection throwing him into a reverse cowgirl.
Arsene's hand left his waist and slide to his thigh, the pointed fingers
hitching on his prisoner garb. 
"Perhaps you would listen to me if we had a little heart to heart." 
Akira opened his mouth to speak as his leg was gripped and forced open, Arsene
effectively displaying him to an empty audience. The Persona's clawed
fingertips only ghosted over a now visible bulge.
"Would you listen if someone was watching us, boy? Would you beg to not look,
or would someone seeing you humiliated only make this warmth worse?" 
Arsene's barely-there touch could only send shocks through Akira's groin,
causing his dick to twitch through his boxers. 
His Persona was dirty talking to him and fuck it was working.
Arsene's other hand left his jaw and rather snaked under Akira's shirt, gifting
the teen with a scratch down his chest that caused his breath to hitch when his
finger ghosted over his nipple.
"You will get off on this later, won't you? The memory of ecstasy from someone
you should think to have control over."
Akira could only force a whimper from his throat. Arsene's hands settled, one
on his thigh and the other barely scraping under Akira's waistband.
"But I am in control tonight, and you will listen."
The teen found himself unable to think coherently for a brief second. If he
forced himself, he could wake up immediately, he could reenter, and wait until
Igor and the wardens rematerialized into the Velvet Room. Arsene would be a
card, and tonight would never happen. He could pretend this wouldn't happen
again.
...But did he want to?
Frustration and stress hounding him every day could all but vanish for a few
minutes. 
And before he could think his thoughts through enough, Akira could only tilt
his head back into Arsene's cravat, letting his mouth fall open and moan. 
"That's the spirit."
Arsene leaned into him, pressing Akira's body forward as his left hand moved
from his thigh to his crotch, claw snagging and tearing at the prisoner garb.
Cut fabric fell to the floor as Akira found himself cut down to his underwear.
Arsene's hand fell back to ghost over his bulge once more with a firmer touch,
Akira feeling his fingertips press against his skin and nerves in a way that
made his stomach tighten. 
Undergarments would not make it out in one piece as Arsene kept cutting, more
fabric falling to the floor as Akira felt his dick exposed to the cool, bitter
air of his cell, erect. 
The teen closed his eyes and turned his head to the side to breathe. It was hot
underneath his Persona and with his blood pumping. He felt sweat run down his
forehead, hair sticking to where it formed as his thoughts were interrupted
with the clean, quick sound of Arsene's fingers snapping.
In but a moment Akira felt his member between his taint, cracking an eye open
and simply staring. It was long, he tip seemed pointed, almost, a fleshy pink
and red, and it made him have the guts to wonder if it was simply magic. 
Arsene straightened up, allowing Akira to breathe and gasp out for cold air.
His Persona only shifted his hands under the curve of his thigh and ass,
lifting him as to position himself. 
Arsene chuckled into his ear once again as he hooked his arms under the crook
of Akira's legs, keeping him spread and pressed to his chest as the black
haired prisoner could feel the tip of his rod at his entrance. 
The atmosphere was insufferable. Everything seemed to slow as Arsene bathed in
what could only be described as being full of one self (in a literal sense
Akira would not like to dwell on.) Akira's breathing only got heavier, the air
only got hotter, throwing his hands backwards and narrowly clawing into
Arsene's plumed neck.
"Just get on with it!"
The Persona stopped, almost surprised with it's user's sudden outburst.
Surprise melted into what he could pick up as smugness.
"As you wish."
Akira felt Arsene the moment he began moving, pressing a slick, pointed dick
into him slowly. Akira's fingers only clawed deeper into Arsene's feathers,
biting his lip and screwing his eyes shut so hard they almost hurt. 
Arsene buried himself into Akira up to the hilt and simply waited, watching as
his user squirmed and gasped in an attempt to adjust himself. 
He gave Akira a grand total of a few seconds before he took firm grasps at his
thighs and began moving. 
Akira felt Arsene's cock sliding in and out of him, gritting his teeth as the
bursts and waves of ecstasy began to course through his body. The sound of skin
hitting skin was the only sound echoing through the empty prison. 
"You seem to be enjoying this more than you thought." Arsene muttered cockily.
"Shut up."
Seconds, maybe minutes could have passed when Arsene began to bounce Akira and
plunge into him harder and deeper, ghosting over his prostate multiple times
and hitting it enough times for him to simply hang his head to the side, his
tongue partially lolling out of his mouth. By the time Akira knew. He counted
but a full half minute Arsene was beginning to plow into him harder and faster,
before suddenly pulling himself out. Before Akira could even whine he had been
greeted with Arsene standing up, the tip of his heel barely against the ground
as Akira found himself flipped around and held midair, being hit in all the
right places.
His arms and legs were wrapped around his Persona, groaning through his teeth
and shaking as he gripped onto Arsene's wings. 
His movement became sporadic and with a long, drawn screech Akira believed one
could compare to a Raven's, Arsene pushed himself up to the hilt, a low
rumbling sound in this throat accompanying Akira shuddering of the sensation of
the pool of semen shot inside of him. 
He felt dizzy, there wasn't enough air, and it was too warm. The room began to
spin and darken, and the last thing he remembered was Arsene disappearing into
the particles of light he knew.
===============================================================================
Akira came to, and he found himself in the Shibuya alleyway, on his knees, his
arm shoved firmly down his pants and a growing stain on the front. 
A few moments passed in a pregnant pause as he realized what happened, his face
flushing and rushing to wrap his coat around his waist. 
Wether or not what happened happened or if it was a wet dream was a debate to
be had later. 
The night sky overhead, Akira took one last glance at the Velvet Door before
scurrying down towards the street with the hope few people would notice him. 
Arsene, to be questioned in battle, in fusion.
Or maybe in some other alone time, Akira pondered, before pushing the thought
out of mind.
End Notes
     did you know the name arsene means "virile" because i sure do
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