Partreon Compilation – Fic#223 – Sojiro/Iwai/Maruki – Persona 5 – stink kink; fart kink; hot boxing; mind manipulation – Your Palace Reeks 2 (Patreon)

Part 1 (Patreon Link)

Part 2 (This Part)

Sojiro/Iwai/Maruki – Protag and Ryuji have gone missing, so Sojiro goes to Iwai's place, hoping to find an explanation for their absence. Maruki is also there, though, and continues his twisted games.

Important: Protag and Ryuji are adults.

Content warning: Please be aware that there is extensive fart kink in this one. If that is not your cup of tea, you should skip this week's fic!

---

“Ah, I did not know the two of you were…” Sojiro trails off, droopy but deceptively aware eyes flicking between Maruki and Iwai. The latter is looking almost a bit bored, just standing with his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans while Maruki is smiling bright and congenial at Sojiro.

“...an item? Not many know. …Is it uncomfortable for you, Sakura-san?” Maruki asks while herding both Sojiro and Iwai into a sparse looking living room. Maruki looks as much like a fish out of water in Iwai’s flat as Iwai looks at home, in Sojiro’s opinion.

“What? No, no. Not at all. I’m not that old. Everyone can love whoever they please, as long as it’s nice and legal as far as I’m concerned.”

Maruki’s smile widens. For a second it looks weirdly… unsettling but that is gone within a flash.

“Wonderful. I am glad to hear. Why don’t you sit down, Sakura-san? Tell us what’s the matter.”

There’s not much in the apartment by way of sitting possibilities and Maruki already is lowering himself on the armchair, so Sojiro and Iwai are stuck with the plump loveseat. As he sits down, he takes his hat off and presses it against his chest.

“Well, you see…” he pauses. Now that he is sitting, the gurgling in his stomach that has become more and more pronounced since his dinner is resurging with a vengeance. For one painfully long moment he thinks he’s going to shoot diarrhea all over the place, sweat pearling on his forehead, but the moment passes, becoming a much more benign urge to pass gas.

Which he does without thinking, glad that it is nice and quiet, muffled by the thick cushions of the loveseat.

“You see,” he repeats a bit more firmly, “Protag has been missing for two days. And just earlier I have found out that Ryuji can’t be found anywhere as well. They’re both grown men, of course, so the police wouldn’t do too much to search for them just yet, but…”

He trails off, feeling awfully old in that moment. Pulling out a silk handkerchief, he dabs at the sweat on his forehead while his stomach gurgles loud enough that Maruki’s gaze briefly flicks down. He doesn’t mention any farting, though, so he must not notice how Sojiro pushes yet another fart out of his system.

Iwai, meanwhile, remains completely quiet next to him. He doesn’t know much of the guy in the first place; only that Protag had a part time job going with him when he’d been still in High School and that they’ve become odd friends.

“Oh… oh, that sounds worrisome,” Maruki mutters, his forehead pulled into creases, locks of his wild hair falling into his face. He certainly looks the picture of worried school counselor but Sojiro just can’t shake the feeling that something is… off about all of this.

Maybe if he weren’t trying to fart as discreetly as possible, he’d have more capacity to wonder about that, but as it is, his stomach and intestines are molten hot and roiling just from the curry he ate earlier. It was damn good curry too, of course… but it seems he is starting to get too old for all the spices.

“Yes, I had been wondering whether the two of you knew something about their whereabouts…” he trails off as a rumble from his side makes him almost turn his head toward Iwai before he thinks better of it.

Maybe he isn’t the only one with bad gas tonight. At least they’re somehow not stinking up the place.

It’s somehow comforting, even in the distressing situation he finds himself in. He sure hopes that Protag has just gone on some kind of bender with Ryuji, or a weekend getaway. He’s never been one to make Sojiro worry like that; he’s been diligent about not stepping a toe out of line, even after his probation had worn off so…

What happened?

.oOo.

Protag can hear them talking about him and Ryuji and he does feel a certain amount of unease in his chest from being a point of worry for Sojiro, but it does not quite penetrate the firm walls Maruki has erected around his mind. It’s also difficult to form a rational thought when he is cramped in the little space beneath the loveseat and the vents Iwai had put in are letting a steady, putrid stream of gas into his space.

From how close, albeit muffled, Sojiro’s voice sounds, Protag is pretty sure that his head must be directly under his ass, so when another blast of hot air hits him, he knows that it comes directly from Sojiro’s digestive tract.

He almost moans. His dick has been hard at the first whiff of fart but it’s too tight to properly reach for it so all he can do is turn his face so the next hot, vaguely curry-smelling fart hits him squarely in the face. He closes his eyes in the darkness and inhales deeply. He awkwardly angles his head up so his nose is closer to the vent and sniffs like a dog, wishing that he could inhale the farts directly from Sojiro’s ass.

Protag knows, intellectually, that this is all wrong and fucked up and he shouldn’t be getting off from being cramped inside a tight space that is hot with the farts of two men sitting on him… but there’s just this blockage that keeps him from acting out. Sweat is pouring from his face, his lungs hurting from the disgusting gas he keeps inhaling, and yet he does not make a peep. Not a single sound comes over his lips other than breathing that becomes heavier and heavier as his cock wets through his underwear and his insides shrivel into a tight fist of lust.

Weirdly enough, knowing that he’s not the only one that got his head twisted around and around is quite the comfort. Yes… just an arm’s reach away basically is Ryuji, cramped into the even tighter space beneath Maruki’s armchair.

He drifts in and out of awareness, listening to his foster father telling of his worries about him and Maruki trying to alleviate them with gentle platitudes. Protag doesn’t know what’s going on with Sojiro’s intestines, but he just does not stop farting. If it is some kind of weird response to being nervous, he sure hasn’t noticed any of the like while dealing with his and Futaba’s troubles.

The more he sniffs, the more he is sure, though, that it smells distinctly like his curry. So maybe that’s that problem already solved. God, the gasses in the loveseat really are putrid. He’s spent enough time inhaling directly from Iwai’s hole to be able to pinpoint when he’s sniffing up one of his farts as opposed to Sojiro’s.

It’s disgusting of course but his fucked up brain only gets him even more excited. He wonders briefly whether Ryuji is still struggling against Maruki’s conditioning or whether he, too is already inhaling nice and deep with tears in his eyes. Being an ex-athlete, he probably is used to all kinds of disgusting body odors…

Above himself, the situation has changed without Protag even realizing. One moment he is just there, happily sniffing farts, the next he can tell that the loveseat is groaning beneath the bouncing weight of men.

It takes him far too long listening to the goings on above to realize that they’ve started fucking. Sometime between him sniffing farts and listening to Sojiro’s voice becoming suspiciously wet, Maruki must have done his… magic and pulled the old man into whatever fantasy he has cooked up this time around.

Sojiro being the womanizer that he is, Protag would never have thought he’d hear him gurgling on a dick. He wishes he could see… but all he can do is stay in his loveseat while his foster father is getting fucked up by the two men that have already ensnared him and Ryuji.

“Do you like a cock in your ass, Sakura-san?” Protag can hear Maruki say at one point.

Sojiro grunts something back. Protag can’t properly hear the words but he sounds confused. Like he doesn’t know why he is doing this in the first place.

What he can hear is the wet slide of a cock into somebody’s body and then, accompanying that, the odd, bubbling sound of someone farting while getting dicked. For the first time that evening, Protag can hear Iwai’s rough voice; not because he says anything but because he groans, probably turned on by Sojiro farting on his dick.

“Oh my,” Maruki says on a chuckle like Sojiro did something especially cute. “Someone is pretty gassy tonight. Mmhh but that’s no problem, Sakura-san. You’ll fit in right away. We’re going to be a nice, big family… the five of us.”

Protag can’t bring himself to feel any apprehension at those words. What he does feel is left-out and needy, really wanting to squeeze his face between Iwai’s hips and Sojiro’s scrawny ass to sniff up the gas bubbling out of him as he gets his hole spread on dick.

That is not fair!