
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12294618.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Persona_5
  Relationship:
      Kitagawa_Yusuke/Original_Male_Character(s)
  Character:
      Lala_Escargot, Kitagawa_Yusuke, Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Kitagawa_Yusuke/Kurusu_Akira_(Unrequited), Underage_Drinking, Character
      Study, Beware_of_horny_teens, A_lot_of_firsts, Original_Male_Kousei
      Student, Explicit_Sexual_Content, One_Shot, One_Night_Stands, Dirty_Talk
  Series:
      Part 1 of Le_Bien_Qui_Fait_Mal
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-07 Words: 7949
****** The Devil and Yusuke Kitagawa ******
by EldritchChoir
Summary
     Yusuke learns how to vent his emotional distress the old-fashioned
     way, with a bit of guidance from a classmate, and learns a few new
     things about himself along the way. Overall, it's a very stimulating
     experience. (Optional prologue for Antivenin)
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The aftermath of Madarame’s palace had left Yusuke in a state of bitter
emptiness that threatened to hold him in the grip of despair indefinitely. For
the first time in his life, he felt he had no clear compass. No guiding hand,
or reachable goal. He struggled to remember who he himself was, tracing over
and over again the memories of his childhood. Madarame was not a father, but he
could have essentially been one, since Yusuke had no concept of what a father
was really meant to be. There was very little anchoring him to his past now
that he was living in the Kousei dorms. Perhaps it had really been a bad idea
to concede to this, when he had a feeling his newly found friend, Akira, would
had been more than happy to share his attic room for a while longer. Yusuke
felt a new kind of loneliness where he was living now—sleeping in a room where
the sounds around him came from strangers and not his teacher and fellow
pupils. But at the same time, he could not imagine imposing on Akira for more
than necessary. The idea of leeching off of someone else was especially
abhorrent to him, and for good reason. The last thing he wanted was to be a
parasite, and if being independent meant having sleep for dinner on more than
one occasion so that he could afford more paint, so be it.
 Overall, he felt like an astronaut lost in space, floating farther and farther
away from safety, awaiting his inevitable demise. Much worse was his current
inability to express himself through artwork. The blockage he felt was not
letting him vent any of his feelings properly. He was uncomfortable expressing
his woes to anyone else his current emotional state, and now even canvas was
not a worthy confidant. He was helpless to do much but cling to the things in
front of him—the Phantom Thieves, and the slow awakening to his inner strength.
So much told him he would heal eventually, but right now, that felt like a far
off promise. The loss of everything he knew was an open wound he didn’t know
how to treat.
 The only sense of familiarity he had was in his old habits. People watching.
It wasn’t a particularly interesting hobby, but Madarame had always explained
art to him as the ability to see and observe as truly and authentically as
possible. Part of Yusuke wondered if he stared at the world around him for long
enough, if he would transcend the scope of vision of ordinary human beings, and
gain the sight of a true artistic genius. At the very least, watching others
helped him not think of himself for a while. He liked to imagine the lives of
the people he saw, and was fascinated by the fact that he would never see many
of these faces ever again. By day, he stood underground in Shibuya station. But
by night, he preferred to walk in Shinjuku alone. By his looks and height,
everyone always assumed him to be older than high school age, and so he was
typically left alone. He was careful to never wear his uniform around anyway.
Sometimes he would visit bars and dance clubs as well. He preferred the night
clubs because of the constant flurry of motion, blending with lights and sound.
It was a sensory feast, and the perfect solution to his current depressive
state. He didn’t like to dance himself, but was perfectly happy sitting alone
with his sketchbook.
On one particular night he recognized something. An anomaly—a face he
recognized. It wasn’t someone he knew personally-- a fellow Kousei student who
lived on the same floor in the dorms as him. A senior with a peculiar, and
therefore recognizable appearance. His black hair was styled in an ultra-
fashionable, short bowlcut, closely shaved underneath. This was a style
currently popular with the goth scene in Harajuku. He had no eyebrows either.
They were shaved clean off and replaced with two perfect dots. Whoever this
was, he must have been a part of the Kousei fashion program. Destined for Bunka
University, or something similar. Yusuke observed him crossing the dance floor
to the bar and began to sketch, noting that out of uniform, this Kousei student
seemed to make endlessly more sense. It was as if there was something missing
from him when he had seen him before back on campus. An essential part of him
that he was holding back. A mask, much like the one Yusuke himself had become
accustomed to wearing in the general public.
Yusuke watched him as he approached an older-looking man at the bar, grinning
captivatingly and drawing nearer to speak in his ear. The older man was in a
well-tailored suit. Likely a business executive with money to burn through. He
seemed to be taken aback judging by how he recoiled slightly. However, after a
few minutes of conversation, in which the Kousei student gradually closed the
distance between them with a series of flirtatious touches, the man turned to
catch the attention of the bartender. Yusuke had stopped his hand without
realizing it, just to watch. He never understood how easily some people could
obtain alcohol when they were still underage. What had he said anyway? What
made this Kousei student so confident he could get his intended result without
it backfiring on him?
 Their conversation continued, and once the Kousei student had gotten his
drink, he seemed to not let up on the amorous behavior, kissing his cheek and
even moving to sit in his lap. Honestly, how could anyone like this exist? What
would it take for an individual to evolve to this point where pride mattered
less than getting drunk? It took Yusuke a full minute to realize that the
person he had been observing was now observing him as well. It was only when he
began walking towards him that he straightened his posture in alarm and closed
his sketchbook guiltily. He kept his eyes trained downward, even when he felt
the booth cushion beside him sink down slightly.
“It’s a nice night for the Wormhole, isn’t it?” That was the name of the club.
The Wormhole. Yusuke liked it because of its correlation with space. The
interior was a bit more grungey than the name suggested, but it was comfortable
and many interesting people favored the spot. He turned his gaze slightly to
the side and saw designer streetwear clothing. Margiela, Comme des Garcons, and
Vetements. He swallowed thickly, and nodded a little, keeping a placid
expression. Now, how could he come away from this conversation without being
eaten alive?
“I didn’t know you liked to come here, Mukata-senpai. I haven’t seen anyone
else from Kousei here before.” Yusuke said, not enjoying how he had to raise
his voice to be heard over the pulsing music filling the space. He chanced a
full look at the other’s face, noting a septum piercing that he never saw
before now, and that his classmate was brimming with barely restrained
laughter, an impish grin on his face. Seeing it up close made Yusuke’s blood
run cold and his face flush. There was definitely an aura of magnetism around
him. He looked like someone who knew who he was and exactly how to utilize it.
“Just Issei is fine. And well, it seems you’ve found out about my double life.
I hope I can trust you with this secret information.” From the expression Issei
had on his face, Yusuke wasn’t sure if he was just teasing him or not. Issei
put a finger to his lips, then sipped at the cocktail that had been bought for
him. He held it out in invitation. Yusuke didn’t move. They exchanged a long
look, and Issei’s face suddenly lit up.
“Wait, you’re the one who was Madarame’s student, right? I’m so sorry you were
caught up in all that. Are you okay?” The concern seemed genuine enough at
least. Yusuke reached for the stem of the glass, gingerly taking it from Issei
and taking a sip. Before the burn of the alcohol, there was the distinct taste
of elderflower, sweet and mellow, and a sharp note of citrus. The fact that his
situation was pointed out, out loud by someone who wasn’t in Madarame’s palace
with him felt strangely more painful than Yusuke expected it to. When Issei saw
the daunted look on his face, he did not reach to take back his drink. He
merely tilted his head, gently assessing Yusuke’s posture.
“You can keep that. Don’t worry. I’ve already had a few. The guys around here
are easy to convince. Especially the tourists. They’ll always love you if you
can speak English and have a pretty face.” Pretty… Issei wasn’t exactly lying.
Pouty lips and doe eyes could probably count for anything in the right
circumstances, Yusuke mused. Aesthetic merits were above much anything, in his
opinion. Even so, there seemed to be something wrong about him, underneath the
red eyeshadow and black lacquered nails. It was the kind of thing that Yusuke
was afraid would lead him by the hand into trouble, with a laugh and a wink. It
also confused Yusuke how Issei could speak so casually about what approximated
to seducing drinks from older, possibly married men. And perhaps that wasn’t
even all of it. There was no way a Kousei student could afford a wardrobe like
his without a very good part time job, and those were not common. Yusuke’s part
time work barely kept him in good health, between dorm fees and tuition.
“Wouldn’t you prefer better company than those who must be old enough to be
your father?” He asked, turning away to look back at the older man at the bar,
who looked like he was still waiting for Issei to come back to him. Issei
slumped down in the booth, pulling his phone from his pocket for a quick
glance. Yusuke hoped he hadn’t accidentally offended him. He always spoke what
came to his mind first, and wasn’t planning on changing that.
“I do. Which is why I’m talking to you. It’s Kitagawa, right? Yusuke Kitagawa?
Can I call you Yusuke? You never answered my question. Are you okay?” Issei
placed his phone on the table, then tucked his feet under him. Boots with thick
platforms and a metal plate with an O-ring attached to the front. Similar to
the O-ring, black leather collar he had around his neck. Yusuke spent a long
moment just looking at Issei’s shoes, not sure if this was really someone he
wanted to get close to. He liked Akira’s brand of rebellion. He always had good
intentions, no matter what the circumstances were, and Yusuke admired how he
always seemed to know instinctively what path to take. He never let conventions
stop him from getting where he was going, and wasn’t afraid of risk. When he
looked at Issei, he saw a spiral—a dizzying whirl of going through life heart-
first. Like Ryuji, but perhaps with a bit more joy than anger. It wasn’t
necessarily a bad thing, but Yusuke believed in balance. It was all too easy to
slip into a life like that—living to always feel good.
“I think I would prefer to know you a bit better, first, before you use my
given name. I hope you understand. I’m… fine. I’m alright. I’m trying to not
let any of this get the better of me. I have friends who have been very
supportive.” Yusuke replied, finally finding his voice again, and answering
with more conviction than he was able to muster before. Issei seemed mostly
pleased by this answer, but he moved a bit closer to Yusuke, gazing at him with
wide eyes full of concern. Feeling self-conscious, Yusuke sipped again from his
glass, noting that the second taste was definitely better, and it was pushing
him into a more relaxed state.
“But Kitagawa-kun, you could be doing better. Am I right? You can talk to me if
you want. I’d love to get to know you, if you’d have me.” Issei smiled again,
placed a hand just above Yusuke’s knee, and Yusuke felt his heart give an
unbidden jolt. From their periphery, both of them noticed the business man at
the bar give up and disappear deeper into the Wormhole. Issei seemed to be
pleased by this, looking like he had just pulled off the trickster’s gambit of
the decade.
“I’ll let you finish that drink, and then I want to take you somewhere else
where it’s a bit easier to hear.” He continued, without waiting for a firm
answer. Yusuke found himself nodding. There wasn’t really any harm in having
more friends from his school. That was perfectly reasonable. And Issei seemed
to be a kind person, albeit eccentric, but Yusuke could say the same for
himself. That was just was art students were like, he mused.
While Yusuke took his time in finishing the drink that Issei explained was
called a “bohemian”, he listened to him talk about how excited he was to
finally graduate and move on to bigger, grander things. Yusuke’s first
impression was a bit off, considering that Issei seemed to be a lot more
ambitious than he accounted for. He said something about living in London with
his father’s family, and internships, and graduate school in Belgium. It all
somewhat blended together as the alcohol began to warm his skin and make his
thoughts softer. Still, it was stimulating to hear someone talk so passionately
about their creativity. It made Yusuke deeply consider his future, though
thankfully Issei never asked. He seemed to not want to put Yusuke on the spot
again with anymore needling questions, and Yusuke didn’t know how he would
answer anyway.
When the glass was empty, Issei eagerly lead Yusuke back out into the street.
Yusuke observed with some amusement, that even with the platforms, he was still
shorter than him. Issei did indeed have him by the hand now, but somehow it was
a lot more pleasant than Yusuke had imagined. This kind of affectionate gesture
was a rarity for him. Many times when Akira walked him back to the train
station, he would find himself waiting awkwardly, wishing he would embrace him,
at least for one second. Akira was the friend he trusted most now, above all
others. It was only natural to wish for such a thing, but it never happened.
“Your hands are cold.” Issei teased, as he began descending the stairs into a
basement bar called “Crossroads”. This place was mostly empty. The only person
was the woman behind the bar, who was delicately cleaning a glass. Wait-- A
drag performer. So that’s what kind of bar this was… Yusuke immediately felt
any anticipation he might have had leave him. He had several drag queens he
admired, and followed on social media. Ever since he came to recognize himself
as bi, it was something he became slightly interested in, for the theatrics and
culture of it all.
“Hi Lala!” Issei called out cheerfully, taking a seat at the bar. Lala
immediately frowned, setting the glass down.
“Oh no, just because your auntie is a regular here, that doesn’t mean I’m going
to serve both you and a friend. That’s not what we agreed upon. I’m already
risking enough with just you, ‘Sei-tan. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see
you with someone your age for once, but you can’t just keep taking my kindness
for granted. I’m worried about you.” She said, exasperated that despite all her
protesting, Issei didn’t seem to be willing to get up from the bar. He patted
the chair beside him, and Yusuke sat obediently, looking between the two of
them in confusion.
“What kind of arrangement do you have?”
“It’s nothing baaad, Yusuke. I pay double, and also refer new customers. And I
can only get drinks if nobody else is here.”
“And so, you have a friend here, so there is no booze for you for tonight.”
Lala said with finality, picking up the glass she left on the bar, and putting
it away. Yusuke could tell she probably felt like she was fighting a losing
battle. Issei obviously was not happy with hearing “no” for an answer from
anyone. Although, he played it more like a game, than something he took
personal offense to.
“Lala-chan, you don’t understand. This is Yusuke Kitagawa. He’s that poor guy
from my school that got screwed over by Madarame. Everyone’s talking about it,
and he hasn’t been able to really recover. I just want to be a good friend to
him, and I think he deserves this. That’s all.” Issei folded his arms on the
bar and put his head down, looking at Yusuke sideways, with the same analytical
look from before. It was like he was trying to see through his clothing. Yusuke
felt his face flushing again.
“No, it’s alright Issei-kun. You don’t need to pay for a drink for me. You’ve
already done so much to lift my spirits this night, and I’m grateful. I don’t
want to make you spend money too.” He turned to glance at Lala for her
reaction, and was surprised to see her reaching for two glasses.
“I’ll give you two kids screwdrivers on the house if you sit in the back. Just
don’t get noisy. It’s not even close to closing time, you know.” She finally
conceded and Issei got to his feet immediately, celebrating his victory with a
single clap of his hands. And then he was gone in a whirl, to the most secluded
section in the back of the bar. Yusuke took his time to follow, glancing around
at the atmospheric, colored lighting embedded where wall met ceiling. This was
feeling more and more like an impromptu first date. Or… something like that. He
never considered that Issei might have an ulterior motive involving him,
because he never considered anyone might look at him in that way. It seemed
highly likely, though, and made him feel a spike of nerves as he sat in the
circular booth next to Issei. Was all of this flirting, and signs that Issei
was genuinely interested in him, or was this just something he did by default?
And more importantly, Yusuke did not know yet how he himself felt about all
this. If Issei was indeed interested, and he seemed to be, then Yusuke’s own
decision was the last piece before something truly unfathomable might occur.
Really, then… Wasn’t this all in his hands?
There was quiet for a long moment while Issei checked his phone again. Yusuke
glanced at the screen and saw that he was in a group chat of some description.
It seemed to be completely unrelated to him, and that made him more anxious.
Was he really interested if he had time to talk to friends? Lala brought their
drinks not long afterward, and then left them alone. Yusuke thanked her
quietly, and found out quickly that a screwdriver was just boozy orange juice.
At least it wasn’t unpleasant.
“Issei-kun, any thoughts on what we are doing after this?” Yusuke asked
abruptly. Issei coughed slightly, trying to hide the fact that the question
caught him off-guard.
“Uhm, no… Why? Did you have something in mind?” Yusuke hoped that the
hopefulness he heard in Issei’s voice wasn’t just imaginary. This was a bit of
a gamble. Something Akira would do, perhaps. Akira… Why did he feel a strange
aching guilt thinking about him? What was he even looking for?
“Well, logically I think that if the Kousei residential assistants caught us
returning slightly buzzed, we might get in serious trouble. And as you might be
aware, that might pose quite a problem for me, because I do not have anywhere
else to go.”
“Usually, I don’t have any problems though. I’m not super obvious when I’m dr—”
Issei’s sentence was cut off as Yusuke pressed a light kiss to his lips. He
didn’t want to admit that was his first, but it was. Maybe it was better not to
dwell on such things as “firsts”. Those were for people who had both parents,
and memories of going with them to festivals, and had serious thoughts on who
they would give the second button on their gakuran to at graduation. At least
for a first kiss, it wasn’t half bad because Issei was kissing back, cradling
Yusuke’s face in his hands to keep him from pulling away too quickly. After a
couple seconds more, he tilted his head away and opened his eyes, not
remembering when they closed in the first place.
“We… can get a hotel room and sober up, and come back in the morning. It
shouldn’t be a problem. It’s the weekend. No curfew.” Issei sighed, his eyes
out of focus. He was being surprisingly coy about the whole thing, but maybe
that was for Yusuke’s benefit. To be fair, he wasn’t sure how he would react if
the wording was more blunt. This was already shaky ground for him.
The conversation they had at Crossroads was light, almost like there was an
unspoken agreement not to talk about anything that would take more guts to
conquer. Yusuke found himself opening up more, talking about future projects he
was thinking about, and retold a few jokes Akira had told him. Issei seemed to
be enthralled with literally anything and everything that came out of Yusuke’s
mouth. He took to leaning against Yusuke’s side, the heat of his body seeping
through their clothes. Together they laughed about the various quirks of the
teachers at Kousei, and various policies their school had that didn’t make much
sense. Inevitably the conversation turned to the Phantom Thieves.
“Did they really change Madarame’s heart? Is that what happened, you think?”
Issei asked, tilting his head so his words became slightly muffled by Yusuke’s
shoulder.
“They did.”
“You sound so certain. Why’s that?”
“There more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
Yusuke answered, pleased by his cryptic, Shakespeare-quoting response. Issei
sat upright, pouting playfully.
“That ‘snot fair Yusuke I wanna know.” He slurred, having finished his drink
some time ago. Yusuke by comparison still felt rather clear-headed, which was a
surprise to him. Issei smacked his shoulder lightly, and gave him a shake, as
if the answer would come tumbling out of Yusuke’s mouth like a gachapon prize.
Yusuke gave him a well-mannered smiled and grabbed his wrist to coax him to
stop, but he only took to shaking him with his other hand, laughing softly.
Predictably, that wrist was seized as well. Looking at him through his lashes,
Issei’s expression was that of unabashed hunger, as if Yusuke had instigated
pining him himself, and that was clearly something he got off on. This was a
realization that made Yusuke’s mind spin with curious and dark thoughts. He
really was able to do this to someone. To some degree, Issei wanted him. Wanted
him to be rough with him, too. Yusuke wasn’t sure if he would like himself if
he happened to fulfill those expectations.
“Sorry…  I shouldn’t be talking about him. That’s my fault. I’m here to make
you feel better. Are you going to punish me?” Issei teased, and tried to pull
his hands free, but was surprised to find that Yusuke’s grip was stronger than
he imagined it would be.
“The more I learn about you, Issei, the more you make me wonder. Is this
something you really enjoy? Is this a game you play, or is it a game that’s
playing you?” Yusuke mused, still critical while Issei was visibly getting more
and more giddy. The response was another kiss, but this was an entirely
different beast than the first. Issei was practically begging Yusuke with his
lips, for him to descend with him somewhere tumultuous and all-consuming. How
quickly things turned from layers of insistent pecks, to tongue and teeth was
something like a magician’s slight of hand. And all the while Yusuke never let
go.
“Ow, ow, ow you’re hurting me.” Issei hissed, wriggling in Yusuke’s grip. He
was elated, pupils blown wide, color rising in his cadaver-pale face.
Immediately, his wrists were freed.
“My apologies. It wasn’t intentional. I think we should probably leave before
your bartender friend loses her patience with us.” Yusuke said quickly. It
hadn’t been that long, but apparently, he didn’t know his own strength now that
he was battling the perils of the Metaverse on the regular. At the very least,
he’d only hurt and not harmed. He watched as Issei downed the rest of his drink
too, and set the glass down beside the other empty one with a heavy thud.
“You’re right. I’m gonna lose it if I have to wait any longer. I need this. You
need this.” He climbed over Yusuke to get out of the booth, spending the brief
moment when he was over his lap to steal another kiss. Something clicked in
Yusuke’s mind, and he knew then, that this is when Fox should come out in full.
Fox was him, and always a part of him, but there was something about assuming
that mantle that changed him, just like how Akira changed when he was Joker.
Fox was elegant, decisive, charismatic-- even sensual. This was all a part of
him, and something about the alcohol made it easier to settle into that role.
He wanted to move slowly, with purpose, and command all of Issei’s attention.
It was something he embodied physically, as well as mentally.
Slipping out of the booth behind him, he took the initiative of clasping
Issei’s hand, carefully twining their fingers together. With a quick wave and
respectful nod to Lala, they were back in the open air. The neon lights were
ethereal, in a way Yusuke never remembered them being before. He stood for a
moment, dazed, and Issei let him take his time, clinging to his arm.
“It’s a good night for falling in love, isn’t it?” Yusuke found himself saying,
giving into his idealistic tendencies. Chances were, such a thing would not
come to pass, but he wanted to say it anyway to see Issei’s reaction. Issei
made a sound like a cross between a gasp and a hiccup and then giggled. It
reminded Yusuke of Ann.
“Maybe.” Was all he said, and Yusuke got the sense that he perhaps brushed up
against something sensitive with that statement. But there wasn’t much time to
dwell on it. Issei was already on the move, as he was always want to do.
“Come on. I know a good place.”
The entrance to the hotel he took them to was a winding pathway that quickly
swallowed them up, and hid them from the view of passersby. The lobby was
unlike any hotel Yusuke had ever been to. It was just a mirrored lobby with a
computer terminal and pneumatic tube system next to the singular elevator. All
of this was clearly for the purpose of discretion. The light was dim, and
slightly red-tinged. Issei managed the touchscreen one-handed, selecting a
room, and confirming for the night. He dug into his pockets and withdrew a
fancy-looking credit card, that Yusuke noticed did not have his name on it, or
even his family name. Once payment had been processed, Issei whisked him away
into the elevator, then embraced him with a heavy sigh.
“This is such a good night. I’m so happy, Yusuke.” He gushed, nuzzling into his
chest. Yusuke carefully placed a hand on the back of his neck. He was grateful
for Issei’s openness, and hoped he would get a chance to express his
appreciation properly.
“I know. It’s been stimulating for me as well. Merely following you around has
been an enriching experience.” Issei laughed a little at this, and tilted his
gaze upward, eyes full of mirth.
“Oh, I’ll show you stimulating. You don’t understand until you’ve been with
me.” He retorted, giving Yusuke’s cheek the lightest of touches. The elevator
rattled underfoot as they ascended. One of the lights gave off a subtle buzzing
tone.
“You sound so certain. Do you have a lot of experience, then?”
“Mm, less than you would assume, actually. If you give them what they want
they’ll get bored of you and move on to someone else. And I can’t have that.
But you’re not them. For one, you don’t have a single yen to give me. …Hey, I
know that’s what you were wondering. Guys get self-conscious about it.” Issei
peeled off of Yusuke, leaning against the railing beside him instead.
“No, actually. I was just curious. You lead an interesting life, so different
from my own. I feel like if I can get a glimpse of the deeper parts of your
psyche, I’ll be able to come to understand myself better too.” Yusuke
explained, looking down into his reflection in the black marble floor of the
elevator. He really just wanted to feel some sort of connection, even if it was
fleeting, just to know he was capable of doing so. He wanted to know that he
was capable of being loved, and loving in return. Although this scenario was
admittedly a shoddy facsimile for the real thing. That didn’t mean that Yusuke
was unhappy. On the contrary, the further things went the more he was inclined
to agree that he did need this, for both the experience and his mental
wellbeing.
“You need to keep working on your flirting.” Issei critiqued, obviously not
taking his own statement seriously. He beamed at Yusuke, and then turned as the
elevator doors quietly slid open. Yusuke found his heart hammering again, now
that the anticipation felt more real since he was no longer travelling but at
the destination.
The door to their room didn’t have a traditional keycard scanner. Issei tapped
his phone to it instead. Yusuke entered first, and then Issei, who kept his
back pressed against the door. He had a mischievous glint in his eye, but
clearly was waiting to see what Yusuke would do. The room had no windows, but
was decorated like standard modern and stylish hotel—except for the projections
of rippling water playing over the walls. There was only one bed.
“How about this…” Yusuke began, planting his hands on either side of Issei’s
head purposefully, and leaning close. “I want to uncover all the things that
make you lose control, until no single coherent thought can find purchase in
your mind. Guide me. Can you do that for me?”
For once, Issei could not immediately find a clever quip to fire back. He
simply nodded, and reached for Yusuke eagerly, pulling him into the kind of
kiss he clearly wanted to give him since who knows when. With his arms draped
around his neck, he tried to get Yusuke down to his level, tugging at his lower
lip with his teeth. It was a bit rough for Yusuke’s tastes, but he was quickly
starting to enjoy it more. He was prone to overthinking things, but knew this
was a terrible place for that. Fox, he reminded himself, and swept Issei up
into his arms. Carrying him to the bed, he deposited him in the center, falling
down with him, kiss unbroken. All he wanted to focus on was the closeness of
their bodies. This lead him to observe how Issei’s shirt was riding up a
little, and how much he wanted to put his hands there. And so he did, exploring
the shape of his chest, and the faint outlines of his bone structure that
created a satisfying rhythm of touch under his fingers. All the while, Issei
was still practically sucking on his tongue. He wasn’t a bad kisser—just an
enthusiastic one, and Yusuke wondered if he even needed to take a break to
breathe. Apparently not. He’d taken to petting his ribs, loving the way he
shivered underneath him. Eventually, Issei turned his head slightly, signaling
for a stop. He reached up to break the line of spit still connecting their lips
with one finger, panting heavily. Yusuke noticed he was breathing hard too, and
that his black jeans were extremely uncomfortable now, but he looked to Issei
instead, rubbing his thumb over one of his nipples. Issei arched his back
slightly, his breath hitching.
“I like… being called a good boy. And having my hair pulled. And tentacle
monsters, though that’s only a fantasy of mine. And Yusuke—I need to get my
clothes off. If I get cum on these pants I’m going to skin you alive.” He
smiled sheepishly, and Yusuke actually found himself chuckling too for once.
There was nothing remotely frightening about this. In fact, if they stopped now
he could probably fall asleep as he was. He could feel Issei’s heartbeat and it
was thrilling to him. He leaned back, sitting up on his knees, and began
removing his own clothes without much thought. Nudity wasn’t anything that
bothered him. He drew live models all the time. But it was different this time,
as he watched Issei strip himself of his carefully put-together outfit. There
were several clinks and thuds of metal hitting the floor. When he was down to
his boxers, Yusuke found his eyes stuck on the sight of Issei’s arousal
straining against the fabric. Black, and covered in red pentagrams. Somehow
that design choice wasn’t at all a surprise. He was pulled from his trance when
he felt Issei tugging on his jeans as well. He’d gotten them unbuttoned, but
stopped to stare instead. With Issei’s help, he was finally bare except for his
boxers as well. Black, with constellations. Also very obviously aroused. It was
easier to not be embarrassed when he was not the one mostly naked first, and
had much more defined musculature. Issei had more of a softness to him, mostly
in his thighs and hips.
Issei made a low hum in the back of his throat that almost sounded like a
thoughtful growl, if such a thing existed. He circled his arms around Yusuke’s
hips, and began kissing over his dick through the fabric, sucking at it
occasionally. It was bizarre and arousing at the same time how fervently he was
doing this, clearing wanting for something.
“What are you doing?” Yusuke asked lowly, proud of the composure still in his
voice. Issei nuzzled his cheek against his erection once, then peered upwards.
“I want to see him. Can I?” He sounded like he was asking permission from a
teacher to go to the infirmary and Yusuke’s chest squeezed slightly. This
wasn’t supposed to be so endearing, but it was. Unable to find his voice, he
nodded once, and watched with interest as Issei tugged at the waistband of his
boxers until his erection was freed, directly in front of Issei’s face. It was
quite a lewd sight, and Yusuke felt like it would most likely be seared into
his memory, though he doubted he would ever have the courage to commit it to
paper. Issei seemed to be impressed too, slathering the length of his dick with
praising kisses and flicks of his tongue. Yusuke settled back against the wall,
letting him get acquainted with that which he so obviously thirsted after.
Remembering what Issei said, he threaded his fingers in his hair and pulled
encouragingly forward. The sound he made was unreal, as it was the first of
many to come, and broke all precedents before it. It was the voice of someone
who wanted to drown in pure sensation, and it gave Yusuke chills. His dick
twitched against Issei’s cheek.
“Mmmm, nice to meet you too. Ah, what to do…” Issei sighed, lazily pushing back
the foreskin to press his tongue flat to the head, then a light flick over the
slit. Beads of pre-cum were already seeping out. Whatever skill he lacked at
kissing, he certainly made up for with this. Yusuke covered his mouth with the
back of his hand, muffling a groan. Watching felt like a whole other additional
sensation. It wasn’t quite possible to be a voyeur of yourself, but that’s
almost how he felt.
“I think we should just… let it happen.” Yusuke suggested, not sure exactly
what he was describing. He just hoped Issei would take his words and run with
them.
“You’re right. I don’t wanna spend time checking boxes off a list. This is your
first time, isn’t it? I don’t wanna leave you with the impression that sex is
complicated when it’s really just flailing around until your dick ends up
somewhere nice.” Issei seemed to be reluctant to stop teasing Yusuke’s length
with short, not wholly satisfying jerks. Really, he seemed to have an intense
fixation with it. He clambered up into his lap, resuming the kiss Yusuke found
himself sorely missing. Rocking their hips together slowly, Issei directed
Yusuke’s hands to the small of his back. This, was in fact easy. The heat
Yusuke felt building before was now omnipresent. The weight of Issei’s body was
oddly soothing. Gradually, Issei pushed down his boxers to ease into the
sensation of skin on skin as he continued to grind against him, both of them
swallowing each other’s sighs of contentment. He drew him closer, lips finding
his neck instead to taste his skin. Sweat, and the scent of an earthy,
androgynous perfume.  Yusuke’s hands slipped downward, kneading Issei’s ass. At
the same time he nipped at his neck, pulling at his skin with his teeth. The
way Issei’s body went through tremors as a reaction to the bite made him do so
repeatedly. Yusuke could imagine he was eating him alive.
“Please, please… Mark me up. Oh fuck yes, please.” Issei mumbled, black nails
digging into Yusuke’s shoulders. He was bitten harder and he arched his back,
crying out, his voice cracking higher.
“You really like it rough, don’t you? Such a good boy.” Yusuke found himself
purring, stroking and then pulling at Issei’s hair. Issei squeezed at Yusuke’s
shoulders for dear life, but was like a ragdoll under his grip. He swallowed
thickly, looking at him with questioning eyes. The sudden power Yusuke felt
like he had in this situation made his head swim. How did he end up here? Issei
noticed him hesitating, and took to wriggling his hips a bit more erratically.
“Please, Yusuke, I wanna make you cum. Please, let me—I wanna feel – Wanna
taste it.” Issei babbled, near enough to incoherency that it was unclear
whether this was the alcohol or just pure lust. He tipped up on to his knees so
that he could get his boxers off the rest of the way, flinging them into what
surely was the void. He returned to Yusuke’s lap, backwards this time, so he
could grind his ass against him. This was an entirely new and enticing view,
and Yusuke couldn’t help but let his hips cant up for additional friction.
While he was doing this, Issei stretched forward to snatch at an article of his
clothing that was still on the bed, and dig in the pockets, retrieving a bottle
of lube. Mostly full.
“And of course you just have that.” Yusuke commented, voice not much louder
than a whisper and thick with want. Issei turned to face him, smiling again.
“Fuck, I want you to raw me so bad, but---” Issei started to say, and Yusuke
shook his head. Something about the timing just didn’t feel right to him. He
wasn’t used to this lifestyle. This was what Issei was used to. Not him. Not
for tonight. Issei’s rapturous expression didn’t change at all as he slicked up
Yusuke’s dick, tasting him a few more times just for good measure. Then he
flopped over on to his stomach, hips in the air.
“Jus’ stick it here and then we’ll worry about me.” He gave the back of his
thighs a quick prod. Yusuke was all too happy to comply, draping himself over
Issei’s back, pressing his length between his legs. There was a creativity in
this that he would have never considered before, at no sacrifice to how bone-
meltingly perfect it felt. His thighs were exactly how he imagined them to be.
Soft like… like—the most enticing bread. But the friction was intoxicating.
Positioned like this, he almost felt like he was inside of him.
“Thinking of me first. How selfless. So sweet…” Yusuke murmured in Issei’s ear,
kissing the back of his neck, teasing the skin with his teeth. Already, where
he had bitten before was a furious deep pink. The rocking of his hips came
naturally, as he had been given permission to recklessly seek release. All the
while, he found new places for his hands to wander along Issei’s body, feeling
out his hip bones, and the flat plane of his stomach before giving his arousal
an experimental squeeze and stroke. Issei hissed a series of encouragements and
swears, fingers curling into the softness beneath him. The slick sound of his
movements was something Yusuke never anticipated, but enticed him to go faster.
Inside him, he sensed his end coming, like water slowly rising to drown him in
a sudden death. And then it hit in a tidal wave, and he came over the back of
Issei’s thighs, biting into his nape but not bothering to properly disguise the
groan that was wrenched out of him.
Issei immediately rolled over, locking Yusuke’s middle between his legs. He
stared up at him, eyes pleading
“Can I have…” He ran one hand over the back of his leg, then suckled on his
fingers without breaking eye contact. “... your pretty fingers inside of me?”
“Good boys get anything they want.” Yusuke answered teasingly. He was starting
to feel sleepy, but was eager to see Issei get off as well. There was no reason
why he wouldn’t be capable of this. With this, he would be a changed person,
wouldn’t he? Issei would remember him forever, all over his body, and he would
miss him badly.
 Issei passed him the lube, mumbling something about Yusuke’s “fucking
freezing” hands, showing him how to warm up the slick substance properly. Then
he positioned himself with one knee to his chest, the other foot planted on the
bed, and his arms lying prone above his head. One finger—the middle one. The
longest. Yusuke observed with rapt fascination as it sunk into Issei to the
knuckle.
“Does that really feel nice to you?” He asked, experimentally sliding the digit
in and out.
“Mmhmm, fuck yes it does… Fuck, Yusuke please-- Stretch me out. I wanna feel so
full…” Was Issei’s breathless response. By two fingers, his legs were
quivering. By three, Yusuke had gotten a good idea of where his sweet spot was,
brushing it in moderation, and watching Issei devolve into his Id. If he
thought he was vocal before, it really wasn’t anything compared to now, but he
never got loud. His voice broke sweetly each time. He kept focused, to try to
avoid getting aroused again. He wasn’t entirely successful. Feeling a bit bold,
he went for four fingers, marveling at how Issei relaxed into his touch. Then
to finish him off, he strategized— several bites to his inner thighs for a
couple more blooming bruises, and a few carefully aimed thrusts of his fingers.
Issei was practically hyperventilating. His body’s limit had been met and
surpassed.
“God… fuck… Yusuke, I’m—”
 
Yusuke watched Issei spill on to his stomach with satisfaction, gently pressing
against his sweet spot the whole time, gratified to see how his body couldn’t
seem to stop shaking. He carefully removed what had ended up being most of his
hand, amazed to see how Issei’s entrance was still gaping. It would be so easy
to just slip his dick in now too, but no… Tired. Plus that would be kind of
ridiculous after how hard both of them just came. He blearily watched Issei
gingerly get to his feet and leave his range of vision, only to come back from
the bathroom with a warm towel. They passed it between each other, until Yusuke
couldn’t think of anything else to clean, and then Issei coaxed him under the
covers with him. Yusuke briefly leaned over the side of the bed and fished his
shirt from the floor, then helped Issei put it on.
“It’s only right.” He explained, which earned a bemused snort from beside him,
somewhere buried in his embrace and a cluster of blankets and pillows.
Somewhere, buried in feelings of bone-deep satisfaction, he drifted off to
sleep. He dreamt about a stage. Issei was there. He could sing, surprisingly.
Yusuke wanted to as well, but couldn’t. Issei explain emphatically that first
he needed to steal someone else’s voice, or he would never be able to. Suddenly
the stage was dark and he was alone. The floor was covered in unfinished
canvases.
Yusuke awoke feeling a strange sense of despair. Issei stirred in his arms,
obviously not sleeping well either. Yusuke kissed his cheek hoping it would
help. Instead, Issei woke up. He seemed surprised to still see Yusuke there.
The clock said it was around five in the morning. Sighing, Issei lifted himself
just enough to get on top of Yusuke, and look down at him with the same
analyzing look he’d come to recognize.
“I get nightmares a lot. I’m glad you’re here, though. I’m…” His voice began to
crack, with emotion this time.
“I know I probably won’t be able to see you a lot after this because I’ll be
busy, but I just want to tell you that it’s been good and it’s been important
for me.” Issei continued, sounding like he was trying to hold back actual
tears. Obviously, whatever he’d been dreaming about had left him shaken. Yusuke
looped his arms around his neck, hoping that it would be enough to calm him.
“Yes, I understand. It’s difficult, because I will likely never be able to tell
my friends about this. I don’t know how they would feel about this part of me,
and it’s because of it that I feel like there’s a part of my life I can never
share. They already think I’m a pervert, you know.” Yusuke quirked his eyebrows
with his last sentence, and Issei half-laughed, half-sniffled.
“That’s because you are a pervert. I can tell you must watch a lot of porn. You
were such a freak for a virgin.” He teased, settling down with his head tucked
against Yusuke’s neck.
“Virginity is a social construct designed to subjugate and control women. I’ve
never been a virgin.” Yusuke answered, as if he was reading from a book. But he
was really just trying to make Issei laugh again.
“Yeah, sure, whatever. You nearly started fisting me. You’re so lucky that
didn’t end with a rather embarrassing mess. Be careful who you do that to.” He
mumbled, pinching Yusuke’s nipple out of the blue. Yusuke swatted his hand away
but they were quiet for some time, just listening to each other’s breathing and
the sound of the air conditioning.
“What do I do if I’m in love with my best friend, Issei?” Yusuke’s voice was
barely audible, lost in the dark of the hotel room. Issei sighed deeply, and
Yusuke thought for a moment that he had fallen asleep again.
“I guess you pray that he really is your best friend.”
 
 
 
 
 
End Notes
     Thank you for reading my very first AO3 submission. This is meant to
     answer my prompt to myself "What does Yusuke get up to in his free
     time?". I wanted to expand upon his experiences a little bit,
     especially his feelings after Madarame's palace, because I thought he
     didn't get enough of that in the game. Also, this functions as a
     prologue to a multi-chapter series I'll be working on that features
     Yusuke in a rare pair that I'm pretty excited about. I kept this part
     separate since I know OCs are not everyone's cup of tea.
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