Title: Even If It's Wrong...

Author: ChibiRaccoon

Series: Persona 4/Shin Megami Tensei 4

Pairing(s): Kanji TatsumixNaoto Shirogane

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Atlus. None of them are mine.

Rating: M (because it's kind of mature and I'm paranoid.)

Even If It's Wrong...

She knew what they were doing was wrong. From the minute she had come across the tall delinquent in the shadows of an alley in the city she knew that she was going to be setting herself up for something bigger than just your run-of-the-mill murder case. She was renowned for her dogged determination and for her ability to weasel the truth out of even the most resilient of offenders. She was surrounded by the influence of her family name and the awe of her reputation. She was a detective of the highest respect.

So why did she suddenly find herself in romantic entanglements with a man wanted for murder?

The darkness of the hotel room obscured her face from view, shielding her from having to explain the reason for her nearly pained expression as she gasped over him, back arched, fingers threaded with his, and hips bouncing. His jaw was set tightly, his head thrown back as he groaned beneath her, his tight muscles gleaming with their mingled sweat.

He was an oddity. When she first encountered him he was standing over the prone bodies of several gangbangers, his black leather jacket hanging off his shoulders, bleached hair slicked back over a murderous scowl that was enhanced by the broad lines of his brow and a scar that travelled from hairline to temple. She had shouted at him from behind the barrel of her gun, remembering the warnings from the wanted posters that this was not a man that she wanted to physically engage, even with all her years of aikido training. He had turned his large body in her direction, pinning her with the intensity of his eyes. She had paused when she caught the surprising flash of hurt in steel.

A particularly hard thrust made her cry out and he unlaced his hands from hers to grip her waist roughly. Their moans filled the room, their movements hidden from the world by heavy curtains over every window, doors firmly locked shut.

The police were convinced that he was the perpetrator, the man who had taken down an entire biker gang and killed their leader. Witness testimony placed him at the scene of the crime, with the reports of his prior offenses working against him. She had set out on the case to locate him and find out the truth behind some inconsistencies found at the murder scene for herself. What she found...

She suddenly felt the need to be closer to him, to feel more of his skin. Her fingertips found his pectoral muscles, a small voice in the back of her mind marveling over the stern feel of his body, her appreciation for a man in peak physical condition. Leaning over she caught his lips in a messy kiss, sighing in contentment when her bare breasts were pushed against his chest. There was a rumble in his throat that could only have been a smothered laugh. His arms moved to wrap around her, ensuring not a breath of space between them as he continued to ram into her. She broke the kiss to bury her face in his shoulder, her gasps filling his ear, spurring him into faster momentum.

He was just as the reports said, brash, hot-headed, and bold. Yet there was so much more that no one had bothered to look into. When he had looked over at her, the gun still trained in his direction, he had growled out, "I ain't done nothing." It sounded like a sentence he'd had to give out far too often.

She had responded cooly, "Clearly you've done something judging by the bodies at your feet."

"They're still alive." His voice equal parts bad-tempered and petulant as he gestured to one of the men with a kick of his foot. The figure groaned.

"I see." At no point did her grip on the gun falter, nor the level set of her blank eyes on him. "That still doesn't change the fact that you're wanted for murder Tatsumi-san."

At that his face had changed, forming into an expression of red-faced fury. "Like I done told'em, I ain't done nothing! They got the wrong guy!"

"Were you not present at the scene on the night in question?"

He had formed a fist with his hand and punched the palm of his other, for the first time since she'd entered the alley his eyes leaving hers to narrow in a look of near desperation on the ground at his feet. "Look, I did beat those guys up! But I had'ta fer my ma! I damn well didn't go killin' anybody though!" In her head she had tucked that knowledge away, reading his body language and clear anguish with a puzzling mind. He had sounded so sure. As part of her investigation, before she set out to find him she had scoured his hometown for any and all information. What little she had been able to dig up, and with the account from his own mother, she did have reason to believe that he may not be the killer the police were looking for. However she needed more than just her gut intuition before she allowed herself to stop pointing a weapon at a man accused of such crimes.

"Give me a reason to believe you Tatsumi-san."

"I ain't got one other than I didn' do it and I'm being set up."

A heartbeat of silence had gone by before she'd lowered the weapon and placed her gun back in the holster. "Then you're coming with me." Still as collected as before though she did allow herself a cheeky little half-smile.

"Why the hell should I do that?!"

"Didn't you just say you didn't do what it is they're accusing you of?" At his dumbfounded nod she turned with a shrug. "Then we're going to have to prove it."

She was getting close, so close, to both cracking the case and to her climax. His hips slammed against her sharply, the sound of skin smacking skin permeating the air. The coiling at the pit of her stomach was getting tighter, making her toes curl and eyes water as his member hit the deepest part of her womb.

"Look at me."

Her eyes landed on his instantly, noting the gentleness there, the disbelief overshadowed by a tenderness she knew no one had believed him capable of. He was the sweetest soul, something she had discovered in their few short weeks of being on the lam together. He was contrary to what people thought of him, finding happiness not in bashing skulls together as the world had been lead to believe, preferring a ball of yarn and crochet hooks to dented aluminum chairs. He played the role of tough delinquent to hide the sensitive abused man inside. She found a kindred spirit in him, also suffering against the demands of a society that refused to acknowledge the real her. He had easily accepted her as the person that she truly was, disregarding labels, the expectations of society, and simply allowing her to be the person she was always meant to be: herself.

As she felt herself come undone, her release making her throw her head back and scream he pounded into her several more times before he ground out her name from behind grit teeth, his warmth exploding in her.

She fell against him, dizzy and spent. Her cheek pressed to his collar, fringe sticking to her forehead, the sound of his heartbeat right against her ear. She smiled with a pleased sigh. He wearily pulled the blanket over them, taking extra care to cover her shoulders, her penchant for getting cold well known to him by now. His finger found her chin and pushed her face up to his, the simple meeting of lips making something in her swell and her hand found purchase over his heart, saying without words what they felt.

She knew what they were doing was dangerous. At any point the police could find them, taking him into their custody, refusing the conclusions from her findings, and pointing their finger on her for getting intimately involved with a suspect. She knew they were playing a dangerous game, risking everything.

But looking into the brilliant silver of his eyes with her pale stormy-blue pair, she thought, that it was worth it to save such a beautiful man from a conviction he did not deserve.

Owari

Just really wanted to write something for them.