Found You

A/N: People might have noticed my lack of updating. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. I just had trouble making everything fit together. Saying ‘fuck me fuck me’ works, but only in the immediate sense. If I had wanted this to one-shot that would be fine. And while AFF sponsors and encourages our smutty dreams to come to light, and as an author it’s my duty to make them come true – I still feel obligated to make this as I had originally intended: missing canon.

They also may have noticed that a lot of times, I won’t add ‘s’ to pluralize many things. Uchiha, shuriken, nin. That’s because I believe there is an old English rule that you do not apply English plural tense to non-English.

Lemon: YES. Kakashi x Sasuke, sublte Uchihacest
Spoilers: For English anime-only folks, YES. For those of you that may only read the manga, or have not bothered to watch ANY of the filler seasons, it’s kind of a spoiler. I will explain though. There was a small ark with another Mist Seven member, Raiga, in the River country. Apparently, there’s this curry shop that, whenever Gai and Lee are doing extensive random training, they go and visit every now and again, and Lee loves their CURRY OF LIFE.

…So. Yeah.

Chidori = One thousand birds. This translation is entirely accurate. However, it should be said that the Japanese have a specific sound birds make. Like how English people say ‘quack quack’ for ducks, ‘moo’ for cows? The Japanese say ‘bachi bachi’. Throughout the manga, this is never the sound that the ‘birds’ make. It’s said as only ‘chi’, which means blood. Wonderful factoid, thanks for that info Cloud~!

Disclaimer: I do own the rock used for the success of this humping.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Know Thy Enemy; Know Thyself
Part Two: One Thousand Birds

Sasuke never questioned what happened. Why it happened. Didn’t make a single complaint over the next week.

Ground they crossed in their training increased as Kakashi continued to raise the difficulty of catching him. They would hunt, and chase, and not once had the Uchiha managed to catch him. But the jounin was frequently having to give himself bursts of speed to get away, and those bursts were growing longer and becoming more taxing.

Sasuke was getting faster, and hadn’t reached his personal cap yet. Before that would happen he would often collapse mid-stride and go tumbling in to the dust, and would rather take himself to the breaking point than ask to stop.

That was usually when Kakashi would close in on him, jingling with bells at his hip, and scoop the boy up. By the time they would get to this cute little curry stand, with the old lady’s house on the second floor, Sasuke was good enough to walk to his own spot of tatami and sit.

They would eat, and eat, and eat…

Even after two weeks of this, Sasuke made no effort to say he was sick of curry. In truth, his teacher was entertained by how the boy would frequently order from the spicier part of the menu. Entertained, and horrified.

He hadn’t pictured Sasuke as being the spicy type.

Some nights, if they had arrived particularly late, they were allowed to spend the night, and those were the nights Kakashi had any real privacy. Out back, while the Uchiha relaxed aching, overworked muscles liquefying in the heated water and an abundance of steam emerged from the slatted windows of the bath house, it was then that he had any real peace to think.

If circumstances hadn’t taken them this way, what kind relationship would they then have had? Would all this training be…

…like a honeymoon? Or a really, really long date?

Would Sasuke still be cute and soft and having large coal eyes seeking him out for comfort like that first night he had happened on his doorstep? Spending their nights cuddling like spent lovers and during the day exchanging flirtive touches and glances through the ballet of combat?

A heavy sigh as his forehead thumped the glass pane overlooking the bath house.

That’d be nice…

Faded blue eye focused in when the hut door slid open, a crestless silhouette emerging. Those Uchiha and their stupid Katon. No firewood necessary to get the most out of a bath. The figure plodding inside, his senses made a dull effort to track his noise through the house. By the sound of it, it had been another successful day. Behind him wood hissed, open and shut. Heavy feet shuffled along, getting closer…

Weight fell behind him, on to the futon laid out near the window. Turning to look over his shoulder, he found the body wrapped in the white yukata with steam still clinging to him and skin ripe and pink and able to be seen through the spots where water had made the fabric stick and back exposed to him.

An arm reached up to clutch the pillow to his ear.

Another weary sigh.

Some honeymoon.

Sitting his cheek on a fist, he dared to keep the boy up a little while longer and put on a leisured voice. As soon as he took in a breath to speak he watched the body flinch with irritation. “Did you ever give Sanshou-baa those undies so she co—“

Apparently, Sasuke didn’t want to let the discussion live very long, slaying it with a select few words. “No. I’m tired.”

He didn’t pursue it and returned his eye to the window. “Hm.”

Sasuke had concluded that much of the reason the Curse gnawed at him was because he let it. Whenever his mind strayed towards certain topics, his brother especially, it would fog his mind with pain. In conclusion, he ceased to think about such things.

That included what had happened between them. Day in and day out, now, he focused entirely and only on what Kakashi would tell him to do, and commit himself to keeping that man on his toes until he couldn’t stand up anymore. The ache of being completely exhausted dulled the one in his shoulder.

Kakashi made another attempt. “Sasuke…?”

Sigh. “What,” the boy grated.

Lifting his eye from the window he set in on the young heap. “Do you hate me? …For what I did?” For a time, he was sure that the Uchiha was pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to answer. Fearing the worst, his gaze returned to the night.

Then… A quiet, thoughtful, “No.” Before he could be asked for an explanation he prepared himself with gripping the pillow. “…There’s only one guy I hate. And you’re not him.”

“Just someone on the way to him, right? …A ‘measure of your capacity’.” He made no effort to hide the scorn in his gruff tone.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

This banter continued back and forth, neither looking towards the other or even shifting their backs from being proposed to one another.

“Do you think he even cares, that you put so much energy in to him?”

The idea stabbed at him. “You said I wasn’t supposed to think about it.”

“You have been.” His powder blue eye settled on the white form again. “You can never stand to look at me when you do.” There was no voice to contest him. Pulling himself from the window, he folded his legs and rested his hands there in his lap, propping his back against the wall. “You shouldn’t let what Gaara said get to you.”

Earlier that week, in the middle of a run, that redheaded prick had stepped on to their course. Sasuke’s blood had been boiling since.

Boiling ice cold. Having faced eyes that stared at death and taunted–inflicted it before, he had conditioned himself to stand ready against it. Even so, he could not shake the way his insides quaked knowing full well that his opponent in the chuunin exams was going to be looking for his death; looking to add it to the number he had already gladly taken.

“…Why not.”

Silver lashes grew heavy on his dull eye at the hopeless tone his student projected. “You don’t have to stay committed to something that hurts you. …You can choose to be something more than an avenger, can’t you?”

It was not just the Sandaime’s request that he confront Sasuke about his lifestyle; too, the jounin wanted to see this boy become a happy, functioning, wonderful member of Konoha society for his own reasons.

Defiant, and now skeptical he locked himself away and curled limbs further in to himself. “Puh. Like it’s really that easy.”

Shoulders in white cotton shriveled when a hand closed on one, a pressure that told him to roll over so he did. Narrowed coals leveled on the scar tracking his sensei’s face at first, then went to the eye that was open on him. That dopey smile was on his masked face again.

“Isn’t it, though? You’re not just an avenger, Sasuke.” By the way dark eyes took a venomous heat, he could tell the boy didn’t appreciate someone mocking his ambitions. “You’re also a member of Team Seven. You’re a shinobi of Konoha. You’re an Uchiha—“

“And that’s exactly why.” Shrugging himself free, he buried his cheek in to the pillow once more. “I’m the only one left, because of him. …He has to pay.”

How consternating. With a heavy breath he moved from the wall. Crawling up behind the boy and pulling him on to his back, a fistful of yukata pinned to the futon as the inky tomoe sat clear and crisp on pale skin. The potent glare Sasuke gave him was met with one of his own, and the boy flinched when it occurred to him that his sensei was not in a tolerable mood.

“And what about when that’s over with? Say you do kill him. What happens then? Going after him like this, you wouldn’t be welcome in Konoha anymore. …Sasuke,” he huffed dreary eye meeting the black pair that glossed with the childish need to not cry. Suddenly, he couldn’t bring himself to cut through everything this child stood for.

Eye falling shut he ripped the smaller body from the mattress. There was no protest when he held him close. More, the young Uchiha shifted, taking momentum to land the jounin on his back. Kept hostage by the grip in his clothing Sasuke laid out over him with fours in tatami and navy knit and divided thighs.

“Why the hell do you care so much?”

Feigning disinterest, his eye drifted. He could make jest at the younger ninja saying he was tired, but he decided against it. “ ‘I don’t care what happens to me so long as I see that end’. Right?”

A hiss came down at him.

“It doesn’t work like that, Sasuke.” Taking his other hand up, he collected a bunch of hair that was still soaked and cold and sticking to the full of his skull. “…You have people that care about you. That you care about, too, right?”

Black eyes turned away, but a rough thumb and fore grabbed him by the hook of his chin. He knew then he couldn’t simply dodge the topic, peeved expression withering at the boring of the frosty blue disk.

“Look me in the eye and tell me what you think of them.” It didn’t matter that Kakashi already had an idea.

And it didn’t matter that Sasuke had already made comments about it on numerous occasions. His lip curled, head making move to pull away and the fist in his robe tugged him down. Knelt there with his ass in the air and shoulders bowed they began to ache with working to resist his confinement. This close, he could feel tense, hot air disrupted by the mask tickling he finest hairs of his upper lip.

“They’re annoying.”

Kakashi wouldn’t let it rest there. “Sakura?”

Inky eyes ticked. “Useless. She’s clingy, airheaded – and spineless. Spoiled. …She doesn’t know shit about me, and all she’s ever done is try to make herself look better than all those other stupid fangirls. The only thing she’s good for is when I need to borrow a scroll.”

That pale eye on him lessened it’s intensity by just a notch, letting Sasuke grow less edgy and stop coiling his arms for lift. “…And Naruto?”

Chill climbed from the back of this throat and infested his chest, taking a heartbeat to collect his list. As soon as he did his tone heated. “He’s reckless. And a dumbass.”

It had taken far fewer words to convey than he would have thought, huffing out the rest of the air he had prepared.

His insides panged him, remembering the day he too had been asked such a pretentious question. He’s nothing but a whiny crybaby.

Silver lashes crinkled shut, painfully content. “And me?”

Even less hesitation to respond. “A nosy pervert.”

…There went making progress. Disheartened eye came up to the pursed-lip pout that the defiant boy gave him, who had managed to inch his face away. Pressing a smile back in to his own features, the hand gripping sharp chin loosed midnight feathers stuck to a white cheek, replacing the wet cold with the warmth of his whole hand, tapping his thumb gently on the round of cheekbone and eyelash.

“Would you trade that, to be alone again?”

He didn’t have to see, to hear the deafening answer of nothing. When he did afford the boy a hazy glance, Kakashi could only make out the pain that had frozen his processes.

The Uchiha couldn’t bare to look at him anymore.

“Your brother’s strong, Sasuke. …Elite.” He made no effort to lie about that. “If you went after him, they’d follow you. As much as you three have grown, you wouldn’t stand a chance right now. You know that, right?”

By the way his Top Rookie shriveled against him, weight settling on the wider chest and dark hair still flat and not completely dry seeping through his shirt’s material.

“…You can be stronger than that. I know it. You’ve got the potential to be stronger than him.”

It had been too long out of the bath to only now start shivering from the cold, but Kakashi let go of the robe to offer the warmth of his arm across the smaller back, taking a secure grip of his distant arm to press him down.

“You probably know how much it hurts, to know someone important to you is dead.” Jounin, ex-ANBu, were supposed to be able to keep a ruthless hold of their emotions. Rather than break his voice, he lowered it. “And you couldn’t do a thing about it.

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t protect you back then, Sasuke.”

With how the Seal constantly throbbed its influence and numbed him from everything, he couldn’t believe he had forgotten what it had felt like. What he had done, back on the bridge. Hands on either side of the jounin’s head formed fists, otherwise lifeless atop him.

“…It was the only thing I could do. –He was so stupid,” the last word squeaked breathlessly, distraught to the point his voice couldn’t hold together. “That dumbass… I actually trusted him. I was dying, and all I could think…”

Kakashi glossed the topic over quietly, thumb brushing away the wet that fell on it across the fat of heating cheek. His eye stayed on the ceiling. “You did the right thing, Sasuke. …He broke that kinjutsu. Everything turned out okay.”

“…That Haku kid…”

“Chose how he was going to die. He died protecting Zabuza. …From me.”

“…I guess protecting someone doesn’t count for shi—”

“He was protecting someone he loved. I murdered an innocent boy, barely older than you, for that.”

The body curled up on him made no retort.

Kakashi didn’t say anything more, sucking down the blood from his own tongue.

Sheepish, and exhausted, the Uchiha tempted his voice with a few words.

The hand at his cheek took a possessive, relieved hold on the back of the thin neck, steadying the trembling boy with the heartbeat he had barely managed to keep in control.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was getting to the point now, that Kakashi’s stamina couldn’t keep up with his student’s.

The first thing in the morning, when the sky was still a sleepy violet and clouds blushed with anticipation of the sun, they were already active. With a stopwatch, Sasuke had only so many seconds to reach a series of posts Kakashi had stabbed out along the course. At first, he could reach only the first couple of posts on time, but they grew farther apart. It meant he had to get faster.

During the day, he would craft kage bunshins and take on his taijutsu, and Sasuke would have to restrain himself to not tear through them just to get at the bells.

In this exercise, he failed if he destroyed any of the clones on his way to the bells. That meant that, while he grew exponentially each day, his teacher could take it a little bit easy and prepare himself for that evening.

They would go to the river to wash down, and say nothing to each other on the way back. There was very little that needed to be said. Sometimes, Sasuke would be so sore he needed to be carried back. After nightfall, it was more training.

He was still haunted by the first time he saw that attack. With Sharingan wide and open he could plainly see the way chakra chaotically screeched through the air, the life of blood thirsty birds kept in an unwavering hand.

And then, Kakashi let them fly. Every vein filled with the ache of blood turning to ice and freezing the sweat to his skin even out in this unforgivable heat when his teacher dashed past him. He couldn’t feel his heart in his chest anymore, knowing it had crashed in to his stomach at the sound of rock made victim in the distance behind.

Hairs on the back of his neck were still on end from how close the attack had come to life. That kind of exertion, to pour raw chakra from the body and ignite it, didn’t seem much different from Katon.

It would hurt a great deal more, he was sure. Katon required harnessing chakra to send out with one’s breath. A person didn’t have to hold on to it, to keep the random, charged energy in their grasp and continue to condense it. Down to his Coils the concept was chilling. An Uchiha’s belly was the hearth of Katon, and it was his heritage to keep such a fire burning bright, white-hot.

It had never been a practice of theirs to swallow those coals like a greedy snake with a clutch of eggs. When the dust cleared and the gusts of impact died he afforded the will to turn around and face the crater left in the rock face.

Kakashi stood there, staring down at his hand and flexing tendons. The other reached up to pull his hitai-ate back over his mismatched crimson eye. Then he looked over, lazy blue eye still electric with the last traces of current.

Squaring his jaw and stilling his body, Sasuke stood upright to his fullest, though he did not want to. The air was still charged and dry like his throat, and it made his teeth ring and his ears clack.

In the distance he could still hear the echo of escaped birds. Lightning had struck on such a clear, perfectly blue day.

“You remember the seals?” No wasn’t an answer, so he didn’t wait for the dumb nod. “Then, you try it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Why do you keep holding back? Your opponent won’t.” He didn’t hide his disappointment.

Kakashi stood there with a fist on his hip, Icha Icha held open by his thumb and a second mask over his face as the pale eye took in his student’s panting frame. On his back the Uchiha sigil lived through that breathing, shirt dark and filthy with sweat and grime. Hands were on bony knees to keep him from spilling to the dusty ground, but one arm was trembling and his hand was red like being scalded with hot water.

“We don’t really have time for you to take it at your own pace, you know.”

Angry black eyes lifted to him.

“If you’ve got energy to waste on that, you can try again.”

This was going in circles, and they both knew it. Little had changed since that Sand boy had dropped in. Yes, Sasuke continued to grow faster, and his attacks more refined and precise, but he was still lacking the crucial component that all of that training was being directed towards.

He sighed, hand with the book falling to his side when the other took a haphazard stance. “…We’ll break for an hour.” As soon as he turned away he heard weight fall in to the dirt.

That pride of his… It would never allow Sasuke to look weak in front of others. He compensated, and didn’t turn around, instead wandering off for a patch of shade by the rock wall.

“If… you don’t figure it out before tonight, I’m going to have to show you the trick.”

~*~@~*~@~*~@~*~@~*~

“A—ah…” Finally.

Silver head thudded in to the valley of heaving shoulder blades and jagged ebon peaks, shoulders falling with a heady groan.

He’d lost count of the number of half-thrusts it had taken to situate himself, until the body gave way and he plunged in to white hot that froze his bones. His Top Rookie’s impatience was catching up with the both of them. Scarred lid was pulled back, and with his Sharingan he could see that Sasuke was concentrating through the pain and doing just as he had been instructed. Traces of chakra leaped across sinew and bicep, knuckles white and jarred and trapped in the larger hand that kept it against the rocks.

Night had fallen upon their little camp again, and behind them the ring of heated rocks glowed. That kept his back warm, but his chest was freezing with the expanse between him and the hunched, gasping body below.

Back then, he had thought the Uchiha was gaunt and his skin too thin, too soft, and too pale, ready to tear with the muscles that teemed below.

Now that the boy had real muscle and real mass, felt so real under, and around him, his worries redoubled. There wasn’t enough sun block in the world to reassure him, bottle sticky and tossed aside to the clothes nearby. The curry shop was a haven, and he didn’t want to tarnish the hospitality with this kind of behavior.

Breathing heavy, his masked nose shoved in to a cold ear. The decadent odor of the Curse was something he worked to stay away from. “I told you… to relax…”

Plus, his suspicions had been confirmed: his Top Rookie wasn’t the quiet type.

Thinking like that compelled him to shove his hips when he had nothing new to give, but got something new in return when the genin hiccupped.

Squirming surfaced noise from the both of them, Sasuke’s head falling further from bowed shoulders. Training could take him to the breaking point, and hours ago he could barely walk. Right now, he was sure he couldn’t – and wouldn’t till long after sunrise.

The only thing keeping his face out of the dirt was the fist locked in his and staking it to the sandstone.

“I am relaxed,” the smaller nin growled out. As relaxed as he could be for the effort to pour chakra and ache from everywhere to one place.

…If he wasn’t being surrounded by the constrictive, overheated glee of being buried between the roundness that had shoved itself on to his length, he would have felt horrible.

Thin fingers stretched away from the web of knuckles, sucking in a breath to crippled lungs when the body behind him moved. The other hand settled on his waist, ceasing how he was dragged along so Kakashi could adequately withdraw. It wasn’t very far before strained muscles snared him and they both balked, hovering there in breathless silence.

As crisp as the night air was, being away from that heat made his dick freeze over. There was a tortured relief in the sigh beneath him, welcoming the cooled slick easing in again.

Such a simple motion was slow and gradual and it grated his nerves to know that there were only so many more before he would fall over the edge; that to go as fast as he would have liked and simply shove his way through the excruciating discomfort the boy must be experiencing would make things worse. Sasuke was perfectly healthy for his age and damn did he now know that all too well, burying his face in white neck and racing pulse.

It had taken little coercion. Every night it was like the first one. The Uchiha would fall asleep, in to nightmares, and Kakashi would need to rouse him with the promise of climax. Tonight, it was different. Tonight, the jounin didn’t want to wank the heir and leave himself wanting and waiting and ultimately incompletely aroused.

With such an acute sense of situations as his student had, it still surprised him when the Uchiha caught dead on and cornered him with the methodical series of questions that had led to this.

“Just… move dammit.” Doing so himself yielded little, heat inside him too snug and buried to be any use.

Content as he might have been, he wasn’t to feel the body fuss and urge and try to expel him, caustic to his ambition of staying put. They both grunted frustration, and he dug his fingers in to the protrusion of hipbone.

“Yare yare… so… insistent…” He couldn’t spare it, but he breathed a chuckle anyway. “You sound like… nn, you want… this over with.”

A small buck of his hips and the tiny body yielded with a jagged moan, shivering all over and cascading in to him. Calloused fingers dragged on the small of a quaking spine, knowing somewhere below that, his length was forcing the overheated channel to conform.

Kakashi couldn’t move as he would like; Uchiha were not submissive by any means, even when it was for the best, and the youth was not yet willing to compromise.
Like always, with a bit of pain, Sasuke was adjusting and learning. At the cost of numb fingers above his head he was exposed. Vulnerable wasn’t the word for it, when another attempt to thrust didn’t give much. Kakashi was becoming lightheaded with the constrictive haven, rather proud of himself for having lasted this long.

At first, there had been resistance, and objection. …From himself. It had not lasted long in the permission and efforts of his student; because of that, and the methodical slaying of his ethics, the very first thing he had stripped of them were their hitai-ate.

Now, the brunet arched, pulling himself off of the substantial mass, taking foreign hips with him until the hand gripped him to a stop. “S…Sasuke… Don’t be in such… a rush…” He needed to take his own advice, fighting down the instinct to thrust, to shove himself in to the petite warmth until he was complete and left basking in his first orgasm in weeks.

Months since it had been with a person. To keep it in the back of his mind that the Uchiha boy had seen his exploits with his former school teacher did little to convince him he was any wiser or readier for this.

In the end—what a horrible pun—he was fucking a young mind that trusted, and maybe even relied on him.

Sasuke threw his head back with a yell when another attempt to pull away gave more progress, the first complete thrust made in the long, fevered stagnation of their position.

His stormy blue eye and crimson one narrowed at hearing forehead impact stone, swallowing a breath when young insides wouldn’t let go. Here he had thought that sex with someone, anyone, could be easy when it was done right…

Sorely, wonderfully corrected, he was learning that no matter how mature they were on the outside… A healthy thirteen-year-old was still thirteen. Thirteen for less than a day.

What a fucking birthday present.

Kakashi was quite sure that goodie baskets delivered anonymously to his school desk or the front gate of his district weren’t a present he had ever wanted. Uchiha did not deliver frivolous gifts, either, and that meant in his life, he may never had received something he intimately valued.

This one, he had asked for. To ask for anything was submission enough. …Asking with rude, sharp questions that made the older man edgy, like toddlers and that stork business he had wanted to shoo it off with silly answers that bore no success.

Trying that again wasn’t an option. Inadequate lube, inhospitable environment, and less than cushioning sleeping bag under their knees with a sexual tyro didn’t add up to anything good. Sensational, and exhilarating, but not good.

Like venom the intrusion left its bite, and another cycle of hips and heat turned his insides to magma that began to make ash of his bones. Through that, he had to persevere. Behind it all there was a lesson, a critical lesson and this was a ditch-effort to get him closer to what he needed.

Power.

Ever since he had been Cursed, his revenge had been consuming him; somehow, not like this at all. It dug at his Coils, not like this could reach, and made him empty and restless and unable to stand everything around him or even be in his own poisoned skin.

This made him aware of the labored breath in his ear. The attempt to gain a pattern each time Kakashi fell in to him with the most primitive gestures, he could only grunt and choke and keep his eyes shut so the sweat-salted wound on his brow would not blind him. Not doing anything was better than trying to match him, nerves fluttering when the tension in his sac was brushed by the heavier, mature pair behind him. Like this… there wasn’t any place he would rather be, if this could take him away from the Curse.

He wanted to get lost in the stinging rhythm of his body descending, guided by nails biting in to his hip and his palm. Resting his skull on the stone wouldn’t brace him any more than his toes in the padded nylon.

Kakashi made his command gruffly in the Uchiha’s ear. “Focus.” Barely able to do that, himself.

Like he needed to be told. Urges magnified, not focusing on the swell of his member left exposed to the night’s cold. …As much as he wanted to. If he could just release, it might have been the most relief he had experienced in… forever.

Heartstrings were wearing with the frantic hammer at his ribcage, spots forming in the corners of his eyes. They weren’t even open and he could still see them. His efforts still weren’t good enough, voice distraught and barely there amidst the sounds of compressing flesh.

“I… I c—can… Ha-ahn…!”

Shaking his head didn’t fend off the defeat, or the jounin’s decision to stop. “…You can’t,” he contested breathlessly, skull pounding from exertion. Content to enjoy the stillness, it took a great deal of his will to untangle his glove from white knuckles, using both hands to retract from the channel that had at last begun to welcome him.

Weakened by the new bout of emptiness, his insides pulsed with longing. The ring of his entrance burned the most, as if daubed with bleach, but didn’t shake the phantom of presence that comforted his ordeal of being handled and moved.

Uninteresting dirt and shadows gave way to glass-dusted sky, short lived when silver shrub came in to his vision. He had been unaware of how much his back hurt until he was put on it as he was now, thankful for the frosty air that had a chance of climbing in to his lungs and fending off the wildfire that had started in his chest. Sasuke didn’t have any control of his limbs, or want to change that as mismatched eyes came down on him.

Distantly, Kakashi was awash with delight that the boy was enjoying this too much. For the sake of progress he had to appear irate, and livened coals took that from his focused glare with ease. In passing he swept inky threads away from the gashed brow before they caught flame in the gaze, then secured his grip in the loose, ticking hand nearby.

He was much easier to look at when there was too much fog in his eyes to glitter with pride, and too much red in his face to pretend at being so aloof and unaffected.

Sasuke was completely affected, and couldn’t hide that as they stared at each other past crystallized puffs of air he sent up between them with his panting. Shaky fingers built a fist in out of the fabric on his chest.

If this didn’t finish soon, one of them might well catch cold. Freezing temperatures were beginning to nip at his scars. He had convinced himself that the other way would be easier on both of them. On him. He wouldn’t have to look at the dear, sexed way the Uchiha’s features carried.

And it wouldn’t stab at him to add renewed discomfort to the genuine expression with burying himself between useless thighs. Sheathing himself in blinding heat didn’t take as much effort this time, steel grip on a buttock relentlessly toned that barely tensed.

“Don’t look away,” he barked in a rush when his student made to rear his head back. “Keep breathing.”

Alarm sharpened the disks of his vision, halted breath not lasting long. Lashes narrowed to the kneading of his ass for foundation, growing dizzy from the jarring of his insides and the stars’ motion, but the claret pool transfixed on him made it especially worse.

It had been years since he had been confronted by one of those terrifying eyes, and right next to it was a perfectly normal, intense blue one he so often saw dead and gray.

The unfaltering pace was starting to drive him mad with the need to thrash his head. Anxiety built in his chest, thundered heartbeat in his ears driving out the zipping of nylon under the forceful rocking.

It didn’t drive out the imperative rasp.

“Show them to me.”

A tomoe-laced sclera captured him in hysteric rotation. At Sasuke’s core he panicked, the metronomic thrusts covered by arctic ignition in his Coils. The chakra it took to make crimson blossom in moistened eyes was so far away, buried so deep it frustrated him past the fleeting groans and croaked wails that cumulatively lumped in his throat until now.

Kakashi was quite sure that the boy was oblivious to him having stopped. He couldn’t believe it himself until his lungs burned.

The sight shouldn’t have taken his breath, his everything away like that, but it did. Marveling at the arrival of unfinished Sharingan, they had no mesmerizing effect save that they existed. His ears rang with melody of that scream of effort carrying across the rocky terrain, mingled with the brief cackle of chakra that had exposed itself in fleeting sparks.

His eyes had been open so long they began to water, clamping them shut when a masked face sunk in to his neck. Coming back to himself tore a new sense of awareness to his surroundings. There was the stink of charred flesh, like rabbit meat on a spit, and an exquisite agony along the course of his arm and the ends of his fingers tangled in black cotton brought close to his heaving chest.

The turtleneck his teacher wore was sticking, dragging on the clammy skin of his stomach. One by one he received census from his extremities, cheek coming to the worn padding of the sleeping bag with an awakening moan to the manic drive of hips in to his rear and the dripping of hot wet in to the makeshift bed with each gurgled and desperate shove.

His insides couldn’t resist anymore, taking thrusts with an unhindered fatigue. Drearily, Sasuke’s infused eyes hunted across what little of their campsite he could look to, and found the bottle of sun block right where they had left it.

Climax had rolled bowled through the both of them by surprise, but he was still craving. Kakashi wasn’t as attached to the messed, charred shirt as he was to the overwhelming sensitivity that plunged him hectically in to the broken channel.

On the great list of atrocities he had made over the years, this had to be one of the few he did not regret taking.

Spent, and unable to soften due to the charge still radiating his system, he gave a few more fading thrusts before settling over the smaller frame that was feverish to touch.

Blistered fingers closed around his gloved ones, sex-flogged throat managing little to the nuzzles against it. Heated breaths far from recovering did little to warm the rising chest they wafted upon. Neither of them made a single complaint, sharing the same space. Not even when it could have been the jounin’s weight was beginning to make him suffer.

It was a long time before Sasuke could close his eyes, and it was only when the hand coming away from bruised hip came in to stringy hair. Breathing deeply made the member buried in him rouse guarded muscles and the older man falter for air.

“…You used your other hand.”

Not sure whether to apologize or snip at him, he took a breath that ended up wasted on a sharp exhale. His head rolled, distancing his nose from the gray fluff.

“It’s the one that hurts the most.” The Curse preened itself for being remembered. But for right now, it was only a memory. His everything hurt deliciously, and his brain was too addled to give anything special attention.

Intrigued, it didn’t pass in to his sleepy tone. “Don’t you…. Well, aim with your… right?”

Patches of his arm were discolored and pocked with displaced blood and overworked chakra holes. “…All the better.”

Breath came up short in unison when Kakashi moved on to his arms, scooting a dead little leg away so he could pull out.

Another dead little leg hooked the back of his thigh. His scarred brow lifted in question to the pair of smoky eyes lost of their bloodline barely focusing on him.

Without thinking about it, he was humbled and eyes shyly drifted to the essence drying like smattered glue on dense ivory muscles. “I should probably…”

Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it. Eyes retreated to meshed fingers, hand falling off the singed hole in the shirt to land on his breast. “…Whatever.” There was no way to brace for it, fighting to contain his grimace at the sloppy noise matched with the sticky and clear absence left behind. Empty in the most bizarre and uncomfortable of ways, for once, he didn’t feel hollow.

More slippery warmth crawled its way between his cheeks in o the spread, making him squirm to adjust his laying even enough to halt it.

He should have been relieved. To know that his Top Rookie was coming back to his usual demeanor, despite being incapable of shaking the befuddled curl of his lip and crinkle of his nose.

It was unhealthy to always mask himself. Kakashi knew that for a fact.

Out here, there was no one to hide from. That’s why it stung. Around him, Sasuke felt he had to.

Those words, he could eat them now, with a bit of comeuppance for flavor; his expectations had been entirely accurate.

It was only a matter of time before Sasuke outgrew him. –Not physically, but still…

Maybe, next time, it wouldn’t be a crucial lesson to help him survive the chuunin exams.

Next time, if there was a next time—why he was so optimistic all of the sudden eluded him—he could see a little more of the real Sasuke.

Not the Avenger that Itachi had forged. Or the new target of a horrific Sannin, a timed exploding tag waiting for its deadline in the heart of Konoha.

But the real Sasuke, just a boy that he had finished desecrating. A prodigy with so much ahead of him, if he could only stay true to what had convinced the man this was worth it.

Sheepish, and exhausted, the Uchiha tempted his voice with a few words.

“I… wouldn’t trade it for anything. …Not even my life. I don’t… want to know the only thing I can do is stand there and watch them die in front of me ever again.”

The hand at his cheek took a possessive, relieved hold on the back of the thin neck, steadying the trembling boy with the heartbeat he had barely managed to keep in control.


Thirteen, and old enough to be made victim by his teacher’s guilty lust, and old enough to draw a fearless conclusion to face that for strength.

…He had still stayed up long past his bedtime, and Kakashi didn’t mind tucking him in to bed, naked and soiled and protesting silently with empty glowering.

Kakashi willed himself to stay awake a little while longer, to get them both a little clean with a dry cloth and gauze the chakra-boiled arm, all the way up to his socket.

With all that had happened, when he crawled in to the bag and joined his pupil at last, he couldn’t bare to cuddle the unconscious heap.

Somehow, he was quite sure the Uchiha wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

The least he could do was give the boy some privacy in his own little world, where the Curse and his brother couldn’t reach.

So it boggled him when Sasuke looked furious and mutely damned him late the next morning, coming back from scrounging breakfast and not having left a note.

Iruka had a way of controlling their little conversations with guilt trips. This bratty little Uchiha needed no such powerful device.

This bratty little Uchiha totally owned him. That’s why he didn’t make any lame excuse.

Not a one for the remaining days of their little honeymoon.

Yeah. He was positive that’s what it was.

He was going to burn in ninja hell with all this boy’s Katon to gladly fuel it.

So long as there weren’t any more arctic-desert nights, it’d be worth it.

Kakashi was the one that had gotten a cold, and it was Sasuke’s turn to not take it easy on him in training.