|Lynx (daniela_lynx) wrote in kinkfest,|
@ 2008-07-07 01:11:00
|Entry tags:||a: daniela_lynx, f: persona 3, july 07, p: akihiko/shinjiro|
To Float is to Fall, Persona 3 (Shinjiro/Akihiko)
Title: To Float is to Fall.
Warning: Mildly NSFW.
Prompt: Persona 3 - Shinjiro/Akihiko - Under the influence - A really bad idea
Shinjiro hates the feeling of weakness, that kind of uneasy itch that usually comes laced with fear, or remorse, or both. He hates it, but it is easier like this, finally some silence in his head, nausea going to a halt.
(It will come back later, with revenge, even. But it is part of the price he agreed to pay, and—)
The pressure distracts him from his current train of thought. His body is numb and trembling at the same time, pleasure curling in his lower back, thick like good old tar in his nerves. He feels no pain, not even when Aki adds a third finger and—
Aki had been knocking at his door for half an hour, threatening to call Mitsuru for the keys until he had to open. Aki had come here because he suspected, and was ultimately right.
(He had tried to put on an act, but the shit he had just swallowed acted faster and betrayed him with the telltale shudders of a starting trip.)
Shinjiro is not sure of whom the idea was.
(After all, it's not like they have done this stuff together before.)
“Sure this is...?”
“Hn. Shut up.”
It was probably his, and deliberate too. Once he is sober again he will know for sure. The pills were designed for this crap, it was a matter of survival to knit back his mind quickly and without altering his consciousness too much, but it is still confusing while the high lasts. To lower the misplaced barriers, the inhibitions that kept Castor restrained to construct them back again, stronger.
(He was sure the pleasure was a secondary effect, put there just to keep them hooked.)
It feels lazy, more like all-around warmth than anything else. Not as this should be, but it’s okay now. He doesn’t need more fuel for his regrets, and will have plenty of time to feel guilty after the drug wears off, peace chased away by the usual, nagging obsession. By the progressively suicidal routine that is not entirely his.
Aki fucks him slow, as if this actually mattered something.