Illuminating Heaven

Title: Illuminating Heaven / 天照 / Amaterasu

Pairing: Kakashi/Sasuke

Rating: NC-17

Warning: Very explicit sex.

Beta Editor: ka0richan

Readers: yaoi_is_my_antidrug, frackin_sweet, idle_ramblingsx, shinobigonewild

A/N: Full author's note at the end of chapter, with proper credits. Note, this version is not final beta'd.

Summary: Kakashi'd wondered when and if he'd ever encounter his prodigal former student again, but never expected it to be quite like this.

This Chapter: "Hunger only ever serves a basic function; fueled by necessity, not desire. Or so you thought, until it formed itself in desperate breaths and crushing kisses. And then you just couldn't fucking get enough of it."

NOTE: yaoi_is_my_antidrug drew AMAZING fanart for this chapter. If you would like to see it, please check out the real version of this chapter over at my LJ: http://sub-textual.livejournal.com/19664.html#cutid1

----------------------


Desperation.

It has a way of rising unexpected, burning through walls of solid conviction. Violent and angry and all-consuming, with need so powerful, it sweeps away any resistance, leaving only hunger in the powerful wake of destruction. It works its intent right into the blood, into the walls and rooms of the heart, slides itself starved into a breath, then grabs you by the throat and chokes its way out.

You've never known violence quite like this; never felt hunger quite like this.

The riptide's so powerful, it's stolen your breath, or maybe that's because you're too busy swallowing Sasuke's.

Hunger only ever serves a basic function; fueled by necessity, not desire. Or so you thought, until it formed itself in desperate breaths and crushing kisses. And then you just couldn't fucking get enough of it.

You press his slender body harder against the wall and keep him there with fingers digging into hips, ignoring the soft sound of protest that creeps up the boy's throat. Instead, you swallow it down with a kiss that bruises, and your mouths break apart and come together again, molding against each other in wet, hungry kisses that battle for dominance.

Pain flares at your lower lip when Sasuke's teeth come crushing down with a low growl, so you respond with a knee pressing between taut legs and encounter the heat of his arousal.

He sucks in a breath and drags his teeth across your lower lip. He's just as hungry as you, and that thought makes you smile.

And all that's left is pure sensation, and it's all you can do to not lose yourself in it.

Sasuke's skin feels so warm, almost hot; heated by too much fire; so unlike the skin you warmed on that first night when you found him floating down the river. He trembles when you drag calloused fingertips down over strong abdominal muscles, mapping the terrain of the boy's lean body with a gloved palm spreading over skin and committing it to memory, as your lips break free from a plush mouth and start to ghost its way towards a strong jaw.

You will remember this; every moment of it -- every tremble, every hoarse gasp, every heated look through a line of glossy black. How Sasuke's fingers sink into your hair and the tingles of pain ripple through your scalp when the boy fists his hands in silver strands and twists, then yanks, to drag your mouth up from where it traces his jaw.

You'll remember, too, how Sasuke gasps when he plunges his tongue into your hungry mouth and smirks in triumph, only to find that slick muscle captured by the soft crush of lips, then sucked on in such a way it drags out a reluctant sound that he refuses to completely let out.

Sasuke apparently doesn't like to make noise.

But he doesn't have a choice in the matter.

Not when you capture his lower lip in between the sieve of your teeth, and suck so slowly, so roughly with a steady brush of tongue across the plumpness of it.

He breathes out against your mouth, a shaky hiss that's a half-moan, and then he yanks again at your hair, as though that action would somehow give him leverage, but instead, it just makes you harder, so you slowly roll your hips against the slighter pair.

The action rubs fire against fire, and you fight back a groan that tries to make itself known when a particularly delicious undulation draws the fabric of your pants tight against a quickly swelling erection. And then his hand is grappling down the back of your shirt, trying to scrape for some control, and you arch against it when you feel soft leather and needy fingers plunge under the back of your shirt and against your spine.

Sasuke's fingers drag up your back, mapping out each vertebrae, moving divot by divot towards your neck.

It's as though he wants to learn, through his hands alone, what it is that makes you you; what shapes your spine and helps you stand, as though the exterior somehow reflects what you keep locked up within. But maybe if he can memorize how your spine bends and curves under strong, steady brushes of his fingers, he can somehow learn to read you.

But you're not so easy to memorize; your other hand suddenly moves from where it was on his hip, to dip under his knee and drag up his thigh, for a better angle to grind your trapped erections together. It's enough to make him scrunch up his eyes and drop his mouth apart in a soundless moan, and you only know this because you break the kiss at that second to look right at him.

His face is flushed, his hair a mess, and his lips are ruddy and swollen, parted in a gasp. There's a gossamer string of shared spit that webs between your mouths. Your tongue laps out and you break that thread, then slowly grind once more. Sasuke's lips part a little wider in a pant, and his lashes slowly rise to take you in with a gaze that doesn't ask, but demands more.

You can feel him throbbing through his pants, and then you can smell him.

Sasuke smells warm and sweet and musky all at once, and it's all you can do to not sink to your knees and press your face against the source of that dizzying, ribald aroma.

His cock is starting to leak, and your mouth waters with the thought of tasting him.

But before you can make a decision, his hand curls around the back of your neck and pulls you right back to him. His mouth presses against yours with so much desperation that you sink easily into it, quickly growing drunk on the way he kisses -- rough and voracious.

And then you realize it was this you've been fighting against since the moment you slipped into that bedroll and pressed your hearts together; since the moment you woke and first caught the scent of his arousal; since you tried to break him down by reteaching him all the lessons he never properly learned because you never properly taught them.

And now you're not sure if it's him or you that's coming apart with this uncontrollable need that knows no rationality.

It's not good for either one of you, but that stopped mattering the moment that you kissed him.

It's not good for either one of you, and all that's left is desperation.

Desperation not to stop, because if you do, you won't know what will happen -- if you'll lose him again by your rejection, or by his own self-realization. Desperation not to stop, to keep him here and make him yours; desperate to break him apart in the only way you know how -- by burying yourself in so deep, and filling him with your will.

It's violent, the way you kiss, because you need to break him.

You need to make him come apart, and it doesn't matter how much you bruise him.

Your teeth scrape down his throat; it's incredible how his pulse surges up to meet your mouth -- his body is so hot, so responsive, to each roll of your hips, each swipe of your tongue. Sasuke tightens his leg around your waist, and arches up to meet you thrust for thrust; he rolls back his head to give you more leverage as one of his arms braces itself across the back of your shoulders.

Fabric whispers as it slides off a shoulder, and your lips find the spot where that seal once was. The very memory of it stirs up something so violent within you that you sink your teeth down into soft skin and create a new one. Your impulse spills over a shoulder, across a collarbone and up the side of his neck -- red, angry splotches that will darken into purple bruises.

Now he belongs a little more to you, so you feel a sense of satisfaction.

You reward him for allowing you to do this, by letting your lips grow gentle.

Sasuke's breaths come out in gasps as he writhes underneath you against the wall. He undulates his hips at a faster pace to try and increase the friction. His pants, and yours, are painfully constricting. Then you realize he hasn't moaned yet, so you start to change your game plan.

But then out of sheer desperation, Sasuke's hands find the back of your shirt and yank with so much force, the fabric rips apart in his fingers. You feel cool air against your spine, and softly chuckle.

You hadn't realized just how hungry he was.

So you nip softly at his collarbone and murmur lightly, "Mmm, Sasuke-kun, you only had to ask nicely."

He growls back in response and rolls his eyes, then keeps on pulling your shirt up. It's kind of cute how his eyebrows come together in a frown of intense concentration, as he tugs the fabric up your chest in his attempt to divest you of it.

Sasuke leans forward to try and get a better hold of it, but you push him back with a hand against his chest, and a pinch of his nipple that makes his body jump. Then, you pull back enough to take the shirt off.

Before you can get it up over your head, Sasuke's hands shove at your chest and you're taking stumbling steps back. And when the shirt finally comes off, taking your mask with it, Sasuke continues to push at you until you feel something hard bump at the back of your calves.

The bed catches your fall, and then Sasuke's straddling your lap, pressing his weight right down against the bulge in your pants, and pleasure sears up through you in a hot, silent wave of fuck yes. His hands push down on your shoulders to keep you in place, as your hands come up to his waist, and then he's crushing his ass down more against your cock and it feels so good, you lose yourself in it for a moment.

You can get used to this, you think, as he slowly drags his rear up, down, then in a circle. Your lips part in a shuddered breath, and your eyes close. Sasuke's fingers push up at your hitai-ate, and then tugs it off. He's looking at you, you realize, taking in your expression. Flushed, one scarred eye firmly shut, the other a slit of pleasure. Your mouth is hanging open and it's glistening from when you slicked your tongue across the bottom lip.

Sasuke smirks. He likes what he sees. He likes the power he has over you. He grinds again, this time keeping the pressure hard and the tempo slow.

You almost groan, but catch yourself at the last moment. He does it again, and this time you fail to keep the sound in. It vibrates deep in your throat, and he inhales sharply at the sound of it. His eyes darken more, and then his hands fist your hair and jerk your head back. Sasuke's lips crush down on yours and your tongues collide, flicking and rubbing together before pulling away in wet gasps, and coming together once more in hungry, cloying kisses.

He's trying to devour you, it seems, but you won't let him.

Your fingers curl around the coarse purple rope and you find one end, then pull. The rope unravels around Sasuke's waist and with it, the fabric it holds up. It pools around his waist, and you blindly push it to the floor, letting your hands slip into the open folds of the yukata to run down the sides of his trim waist, unobstructed by excess accouterments. His skin is hot, smoother than yours, with occasional bumps of scar tissue.

You wonder if he likes the way your gloves feel as they slide right over them.

Your hands glide down until they meet his waistline. Then, one traces to the center, and moves down to crush sweetly against the bulge straining fabric. It pulls out a soft hiss from Sasuke that tickles against your lips. He's abruptly stopped moving, even stopped kissing, and you smirk against his mouth, then give his cock a slow squeeze through his pants, feeling more moisture seep through the coarse fabric under your fingers.

Sasuke probably hasn't had too many bed partners and isn't used to someone else touching him like this. He inhales too quickly through his nose and chokes on what sounds like a moan.

Your smirk widens as you break the kiss, and you do it again, this time starting from the heavy base of where his balls are most constricted by his pants, then traveling up in a slow rub of your palm pressing along the underside of his erection, until you reach the head. This, you wrap your fingers around, and apply just enough pressure to squeeze a harsh exhalation and a soft, keening sound right out of him.

Now that's better.

Sasuke's brow has pulled together, and he's biting down on his lower lip. His expression looks so erotic and vulnerable all at once that it sends a sharp throb right to your cock, so you grind up a little against his ass, almost groaning at the friction. Warmth and pleasure travels through you with each undulation.

Sasuke makes another strange noise strangled at the back of his throat. You're determined to hear what that noise actually is, so you open up his pants and drop your gaze down to watch his cock emerge from its confinements. He looks just like you imagined, ruddy and glistening with the product of too much pent up desire. Translucent liquid gathers at the tip of his cock, pooling around his slit, and the smell of him is suddenly so overwhelming that you feel a little dizzy.

You bring your eye back up to Sasuke's face, then wrap one hand around his length, giving it a slow squeeze that forces the boy to sharply inhale. Then you start to pull in a torturously slow stroke, dragging your fingers all the way up to the leaking head. Your glove is going to smell like him now, but that doesn't stop you from wrapping your hand around the base of the head in a squeeze that has Sasuke sharply gasping as a little stream of liquid emerges through the slit and spills over, dripping down to your fingers.

And you love how he feels in your hand, hard and silky and twitching lightly; love that you can feel his heartbeat racing through the thin layer of leather; love how his hips move uncontrollably in slight jerks whenever you stroke just so; and it drives you a little insane, how he manages to stay so quiet. The only vocal responses you've been able to get out of him have been variations of gasps and the occasional grunt -- and you know it has more to do with Sasuke being stubborn than with your ability to drag moans out.

It makes you smile a little, as frustrating as it is. Because you know you'll have to break down those walls first, and Sasuke's letting you do just that.

His breath trembles when you drag your hand up in a way you know he likes, and he's starting to thrust a little each time you move your hand. He's so slick now, dripping from too much stimulation, and the smell of him washes over you and you greedily breathe it in with starved inhalations; loving how it clings to the inside of your nose and the back of your throat, before spiraling down in hot twinges that only make you that much harder.

That thick, warm smell of him is so intoxicating, you know you have to taste it. Your cock also feels like it's about to burst, and you need to give it some attention.

So you give Sasuke's cock one last stroke, then unwind your hand, and press your lips against his jaw as you give his thigh a squeeze.

"Stand up," you murmur, and he looks a little confused, but after a moment of hesitation, he draws off your lap and unsteadily rises to his feet.

You take the opportunity to undo your pants with one hand as your other finds traction on the boy's hip. He's watching as you draw him closer and press your lips against the soft skin right above a dark, glossy black patch of hair. He slightly jerks when you give that skin a nip with your teeth; then your lips travel down and your breath oozes out right over Sasuke's glistening length.

The humid heat makes him twitch as his hands come to settle on your shoulders.

A glance up reveals him staring down at you with wide, surprised eyes.

It's like Sasuke didn't expect this, or ever imagined in a million years that it could ever happen. His fingers curl around your shoulders with a little too much apprehension.

You chuckle, and let your breath glide over the head of his erection, then part your lips and let your tongue slowly lap at the dripping tip.

The taste of him fills your mouth, this mixture of saltysweet desire, and you nearly moan at simply tasting that licentious flavor. Sasuke's breath hitches above you, and turns into a gasp when you swirl your tongue around the tip slowly. And when you suck the glistening head into your mouth, a wall falls and a gasp flows into the sweetest moan you've ever heard -- something caught between a winded breath and a not-quite-whimper.

His fingers tighten on your shoulders as you let out a soft groan, shaping your mouth into a conduit of vibration. It draws out another one of those gasped moans from him, and makes you smirk around him, as you open your mouth wider and slowly start to swallow him down, taking in an inch at a time. Your tongue hungrily works along the sensitive underside of his length as you drag your lips to the head and begin focusing on the tip again.

Sasuke's legs start to tremble, and you take the opportunity as you swivel your tongue around the head in languid circles, to tug his pants down more, pushing them off his hips until they drop down neatly around his leg guards. Your own cock begs for release, and you appease it, moaning when you finally feel the constriction lift off your aching cock as it rises, unobstructed, through the folds of your pants.

The moan travels straight through the hard flesh in your mouth and sends Sasuke into another small, crazed paroxsym.

His nails bite into your skin as though he needs to hold onto you or lose himself entirely in sensation. As though if he doesn't hold on, he'll lose control of the situation.

But there's nothing to control when two fires come together in an explosion so hot, so fast, it burns through anything it touches in an unstoppable conflagration. There's only the heat of the flames as they suck up breaths and grow larger with each inhalation; as they rip through wall after wall with solid determination, licking over cool surfaces and igniting them. There's only this wet inferno parting its lips and swallowing down, inch by inch, the shape of Sasuke's control.

But when you take him down to the hilt with steady swallows that ease him in past the tight constriction of your throat, wrapping your lips firmly around the root of his arousal and moan once you've completely engulfed him, that control unravels faster than the shudder that travels down his spine. And then a hoarse moan rips from his throat, uninhibited.

The pleasure you're giving him is so intense, Sasuke can't even hold his spine straight -- he shudders again and then hunches over, curling right over you. Trembling hands that need to find purchase on something, anything, travel down over the slopes of your shoulderblades and tug you forward, closer. His fingers slide up into the short hairs at the back of your head and you roll your tongue in a massage along the underside of his slick length, sucking slowly as you hum and pull out more moans from him.

He can't seem to stop these noises from escaping now, even though he tries. He sucks in a broken breath, but it fades into a sound of pleasure.

Soon, all that fills the air is a concupiscent soundtrack -- wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your throat; your occasional hums and encouraging groans; his gasps and moans and half-broken syllables of incomplete words that sometimes sound like a curse and other times like half your name, but it's always interrupted.

The fire burns a little too fast now; you hungrily suck and fuck him with your throat, your tongue, your mouth, as your hand pumps your own erection. The soft leather of your glove feels amazing around the silky slick skin of your cock. The texture is coarse, smooth, soft, but it's nothing like the heat of your mouth that has Sasuke reduced to trembles and moans.

You love seeing him like this. So open, not closed; so hot, not cold; vulnerable, needy, desperate (he's always been a little vulnerable, though he'd never admit it.) It softens the cut of his edges and makes him malleable, not hard, not unchangeable. He's got so much fire in him now, but he always has -- just wrapped up and tightly knotted. Maybe he was afraid of its intensity, so he kept it buried below the surface. You love that you've been able to unravel him to this point, to take him to this edge and make him come undone.

And when he gives a strangled sound that sounds like a "Ka--haahh...", tightens his fingers in your hair, as his cock grows thicker in your throat and his balls start pulling up, you consider taking him over the edge for a moment.

But you haven't quite broken him yet, so you pull back instead to watch him, with your fingers tightly choking the base of his twitching length.

Sasuke makes a sound that's both indignant and needy.

And then you feel that familiar flash of anger lash out at you. It stabs down with prickly heat until you raise your eyes up.

He looks down at you with narrowed eyes, irritation written across his face. But it's only there for a flash, because the next moment he's biting down on his lower lip -- it doesn't take a genius to guess the reason for the change. You're looking up at him with a steady gaze and swollen lips, glistening with saliva and precome, slightly parted as though you want to take him back into your mouth. Perfectly debauched, and you used to be his teacher.

An expression like that is enough to quell any rising anger.

It's also enough to receive, in response, another twitch of the hard heat you hold before it slides into a full-body tremble.

Sasuke needs you so badly and that very thought makes you smile. Or maybe it's a smirk, but you're not sure, because you're paying too much attention to him.

You wait until the danger's passed and then slowly slip your fingers from the base of his cock to the tight stretch of skin behind his balls, pressing in and massaging slowly. Sasuke groans, and you do too, as you drag your own hand up your own length.

You take a breath, and steady yourself, then open your mouth to ask, "What do you want, Sasuke?" Because this isn't and hasn't been about you, and it's never been.

But he doesn't respond verbally, at least not in the way you want. He tightens his fingers a little in your hair and breathlessly murmurs a soft, "Nnngh..." from your fingers moving along that sweet spot behind his balls. That's not the answer you've been looking for, so you lean in again and let the heat of your tongue swirl over the ruddy head of his arousal. It draws a gasp out of Sasuke, and he tightens his fingers once more.

But you don't give him the relief he wants, and pull away instead. Again, he's leveled with a steady look and another question, "What do you want, Sasuke?" This time, a little firmer.

He has to answer the question and tell you what he wants. Because as much as you want to break him, he has to want that for himself.

He's given some time to think as your mouth goes around him again, sucking slowly, softly, sweetly, almost too lightly for any kind of satisfaction. Sasuke's making all these ridiculously delicious strangled sounds, then whimpers, and pants out, "I--" as your tongue swirls a little faster, and fingers massage deeper, what words at his lips dissolve into a strange jumble of sibilant sound and displaced vowels that probably make perfect sense to him. "you-- nnghhhhahhh-- fuck." And then he's an incoherent mashup of ragged breath and broken sound all over again, so you finally pull back.

Your fingers wrap once more around the very root of him, then you lean back, look up at him, and hold him there steadily. He hisses, you stroke, and before you can ask him again, he finally lets out a low growl as he yanks your head back viciously with his fingers. It burns. "Just fuck me already." The words are strained, as though forced out through the last remaining bars of that flimsy thing called control Sasuke once thought he had.

His eyes burn down on yours with self-assured conviction, and you feel a smirk grow around the edges of your lips.

Your fingers slide away from him to move up to his wrists. He trips slightly over the fabric pooled around his shin guards when you tug him back down towards your lap. Tugging out the hemline of his pants from his shin guards, then kicking out of them, he straddles you quickly as your mouths crash in a ferocious kiss. His breath, and yours, collide in a shared moan when your arousals rub together.

There's too much fire between you, and you're almost afraid it'll burn itself out too fast.

There's too much fire between you, and you need to make it last.

A languid kiss passes between you, then your hand slides from his wrist and under the open fold of his yukata. Your arm goes around his waist as you lie back with him, staving his hunger and quieting its roar by easing him into slower kisses. And when the fire's under control, you roll to trap him beneath you.

Settling between his legs and slowly letting the heat of your arousals collide once more, your fingers wrap around the doubled girth and slowly stroke. His eyebrows knit together and his lips part in a moan. Black hair spills around his head and cuts wildly across his eyes, so you lift your other hand up and gently brush those strands back before your lips descend to taste the gasp that escapes from Sasuke's throat.

You're not sure if you're really ready for this, even if your body wants it. You're not sure if he's ready for it either, so you reluctantly break the kiss. His cheek feels so hot when you take it in your palm and let your thumb trace over the cliff of a cheekbone that feels almost delicate. "You're sure," you say, and it's a confirmation that begs a question.

But then he glares at you like you're an idiot and you feel his legs wrap around your waist as his arms slip around your neck. They tighten and draw you in so fast, your hand is forced out by the pressure of your body molding against Sasuke's slender form, trapping your cock firmly against his.

His body tells you he wants this as badly as you do; his eyes tell you he wants you.

That makes all the difference.

Your face finds a home against the curve against his neck, and you breathe him in deeply once your nose finds itself pressed against the rhythm of his heart. He smells like fire and need and the spiciness of desire; like sweat and earth sliced apart with a dash of copper violence; like scorched ozone as the sun shatters and shreds its core with vengeance, then wraps itself up in a cold cocoon of wintry indifference. But winter always smelled too clean and crisp, too impersonal; Sasuke smells nothing like that at all.

He smells like you've always remembered him, warm with a touch of arrogance.

You never knew arrogance had a scent until you breathed in Sasuke.

It's a scent that's uniquely him, and one that tells a story; because the arrogance is never really just arrogance, but a storm of too much emotion. He keeps it bridled, tightly reined, by masking it with overconfidence. Because if he lets even a drop of truth slip out between the cracks, it might just break him.

And in those days when he had a goal, that storm within him served a purpose; it both reinforced and justified the strength of the shell he made of concrete conviction. That shell could not crack, would not break, regardless of the pressure exerted upon it. And when you tried to break your way through, he only doubled the layers.

You'd stopped too short before you reached the center; stopped just at the edge of breaking through when it got too personal. And then there was nothing left to break, because Sasuke had removed himself from the proximity of your fingers.

But he's here right now, ready and willing to accept whatever you want to give him. (Though you never, in a million years, would've considered this, back then. It simply fell in the terrain of complete unacceptability.) But Sasuke's no longer that angry little boy -- that indignant, self-righteous, stupid little boy who was once your student. He's grown into man, even if it's hard for you to admit it.

Even though he no longer has the same kind of fire burning for vengeance within him, Sasuke's still angry, still indignant, still stupid and self-righteous. Still so scared of trusting, of forming bonds that can be so easily broken. Still rejects that emotion known as caring, but ends up doing it anyway. (You tried to do that too, and look how far it got you.)

And now he's looking up at you with a kind of trust that he's never once exhibited. He's looking up at you with such a vulnerably open expression, it makes something within you expand and contract painfully. Before you can think about the pain or contemplate its meaning, he reaches up and drags you down against his mouth in a kiss that turns torrid quickly.

I want you, his body says, as his tongue slides against yours and his fingers rake through your hair. Now, he demands, with a strong roll of his hips and a bite to your lower lip.

You break the kiss slowly and shift your hips off of his so he doesn't notice that your erection has slightly waned, tempered down by those strange stabs of heat through your chest. The fire's burned awry, you think, and not in the right direction. "Mm, hold on... I need to get something..." You say, then extract yourself slowly from arms that don't want to let go.

But eventually they do, and you slide away, feeling Sasuke's eyes on you. It only takes a moment for you to go through your travel pack to find a jar of mineral oil. It was meant to be an emollient for your skin against the harsh elements of Snow Country -- not exactly the best thing for this, but it'll have to do.

A trail of pants, underwear, and shoes is left behind on your trip back to the bed. After a moment of thought, you drop the gloves too, just before you crawl back onto the mattress. Sasuke watches you through a half-lidded gaze as he tries to catch his breath. He's still dressed in his yukata, which is spread open around him on the bed in a mockery of tradition -- with his arm and leg guards still in place.

The mattress shifts under your weight as you crawl over his prone body, then drop your head down until your noses brush, close enough to feel his breath against yours. A smirk forms on your face when his lips part as your breath slowly drifts over them. He wants that infinitesimal space between your lips closed already. Impatient as always, really.

"Now, where were we again?" You murmur, and Sasuke just groans in frustration at the tone of your voice.

Sometimes, you just can't help it. He's so easy to frustrate, and it really is cute, that puerile petulance that creeps into his features.

It makes you chuckle softly, and then you reward him by dripping your tongue into his mouth as your bodies mold together again. You feel a hand sweep up your back to your neck and the other one wrap around your waist as Sasuke arches against you. He sucks slowly, almost sensually on your tongue, and it induces a shudder.

The kiss breaks with a light nip of your teeth against his bottom lip, tugging it away from his teeth before letting it fall back in place with a wet smack, before coming back together again in another shared groan. You're breathing his air and he's breathing yours, and it's all set to the same tempo.

Oiled fingers find their way dipping under the weight of Sasuke's balls to rub at that stretch of skin that leads to the hot furrow of his ass. They massage slowly and languidly as your cocks slowly rub back and forth against each other; the sensation of slick, hot skin, and hardened flesh builds a sweltering heat between your bodies that sinks through the pores and curls deep within you.

The fire burns hotter than ever, and Sasuke's hips rock against the staccato of your fingers pressing against that unbelievably hot stretch of tight skin. He lets out a hiss against your lips when he feels a digit slip further down, and slowly encircle and press apart petals and grooves. He's incredibly tight, and you're already trembling at the thought of being buried in that, when you've barely even slipped in the tip of your index finger.

You break the kiss with a soft pinch of teeth to lips before you draw back enough to watch him.

You will remember this; every moment of it -- the way Sasuke's usual haughty way of carrying himself breaks apart into something infinitely soft as his brow draws together and his eyes fall shut; how his lips part with a breathless gasp that crescendos into a moan when your finger slides in to the hilt; how his entire body arches below yours when you slide that digit out of the heat of that tight channel and push it back in, then curl. The sound he makes then is almost a whimper, and he writhes and bucks and rolls his head back against the pillow, fingers falling from you to grab at the blanket below him, knuckles turning white with the intensity of his grip.

He's trying not to lose himself in this, but he doesn't have a choice. Not when another finger is sliding in to spread him more. His cock jerks against yours, and the sensation ripples through his body and yours in a wave of motion -- Sasuke arches his spine and rocks down against the intrusion, sucking in a harsh gasp through his lips. And then he suddenly grits his teeth, clenching his jaw to try and hold in the vibrations of a moan that wants to tear its way out. You can feel it, humming low in his chest, and when you curl, curl, curl those fingers inside him, it breaks out of the jail of his throat and forms itself in pure, unbridled sound.

It's loud and shuddering, this vocalization of pleasure, and Sasuke would probably look and feel embarrassed by its very decibels, if the pleasure rocking though him wasn't as intense as you know it is -- it has to be, because he can't seem to stop making those delicious noises between broken gasps each time you stab in your fingers.

He's fucking himself on your fingers now, and you think you might just come like this, with your fingers buried and curling within him, his slick cock rubbing and twitching against yours with each salacious roll of his hips.

Fuck.

A quick motion eases your body off of his, and you settle back on your knees, watching him with lashes half-lowered over mismatched eyes as your fingers continue to plunge. You don't know how much more of this you can take -- your cock throbs with such intense pulses of heat, it's almost too much to handle. He's looking at you now with eyes darker than night, glossed with desperation; then watches as you twine your thumb and two fingers around the base of your cock to choke off a premature reaction.

And then your fingers curl again inside him, striking with precision at that molten spot within him, and he writhes, then thrashes slightly, before glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

"Do it, fucking do it already," he hisses out at you in a hoarse breath that fades into another moan when you scissor your fingers slightly, then drive them in with another slow curl.

You can't help but softly laugh. "You're always so impatient, Sasuke-kun," you tease lightly, groaning when you spread a liberal amount of oil over yourself.

The viscous substance makes your palm and fingers a glove of sensation, so you almost miss the widening of Sasuke's eyes. He looks surprised, and you attribute that expression to the thickness and length of what you hold in your hand, and can't help but smirk a little at the very thought that the sheer size of you is what shocks him speechless -- so much so, that the anticipated retort of "Don't call me Sasuke-kun," doesn't come out of his mouth.

And just as well -- you might've teased him a little longer just for that.

Instead, you withdraw your fingers, watching as that tight pucker closes up, slightly pink and glistening from your ministrations.

You're not sure if you're ready for this, even as you prepare yourself for it -- what you're about to do might just destroy you both, and you need to make sure at least one of you can handle it. But you fit yourself between his legs, then start to press the slick head of your cock against that tight entrance as your eyes slide up to his face.

For a brief moment that tangles itself up in a heartbeat, you see that boy all over again -- that stupid, indignant, and self-righteous boy you couldn't save; the one who hid himself so carefully behind those layers of concrete conviction that could not crack, would not break, regardless of the pressure you exerted upon him. And in the six years that followed without you there to watch, he has grown into someone finally ready to allow you into a space that has no walls, and is filled with the truth of his vulnerability and your own.

Even if this space is one you never expected to fill, there is no anger here, no vengeance, no obsessive goal in mind; no regrets, no what-ifs, no more looking back. There is only Sasuke's spine arching as the final wall falls, split apart by the heat of his body swallowing you up. He surrounds you with need, with uncontrollable desperation that clenches around you and drags you in, inch by shuddering inch. And when you're buried in so deep you can't possibly sink yourself in any further; buried in so deep, you feel you've almost lost yourself in him, you let your face fall back into the damp curve of his neck, and slowly inhale.

This time, arrogance smells different, but it never really is just arrogance.

This time you breathe in a storm of too much emotion.

It rises up through you and sinks back into him, then grabs on and drags you in deeper; you're so connected you're not sure if it's him or you that's causing its fury. It's swift, hot, indiscriminately destructive as it cracks, breaks, and rocks through your mutual foundations. It pounds itself in and steals your breath away, leaving only lightning and fire burning in its wake -- you forget where you end, and where he begins.

And it all starts falling apart at that very moment -- the world comes apart at the seams, leaving only your conjoined bodies cradled in the fission of its divide. You shudder and choke out his name with lips pressed against his racing heart, and the seismic wave passes through you right into him, coming out of his mouth in a broken gasp. His entire existence is wrapped around you at this very moment -- with the heat of your cock filling him up; the strength of your heart pulsing deep within him.

There's nothing left for him to give up, save for his vulnerability.

And it's that vulnerable something about him that you want to save and break in the same instance.

So your hands hook under the supple backs of knees damp with sweat as you pull your hips back and draw your cock out with a groan; slippery muscles clench and fight to keep you buried deep inside. It's almost too much, but not enough at all.

Pulling your face out of his neck to look down at him, you drink in the sight of him through lashes drooping heavy over a mismatched gaze. Sasuke gives you a look that's as hungry as it's challenging, and then his lips curl into that smirk you know too well -- the one he makes when he thinks he's won, filled with too much hubris and provocation all at once (he has no idea how wrong he is.)

A low growl rises and bursts with your fingers slamming his knees back against his chest. And when you fill him, it's violent; splitting him apart and driving into him with such force, pleasure slams backwards into you, coiling hot in your belly, forcing out a groan and a strangled cry (and you're not sure who can claim ownership of either sound, or if you should claim ownership of them both, since you're the one who caused it), when his ass convulses tightly around your throbbing circumference. It's too hot and the only thing stopping you from melting into him is the skin separating your bodies. The slippery heat of his erection is trapped between your chests, and it rubs against your abdomen (you can picture it -- the crown flushed purple and swollen, glistening with the thick, clear product of his desire that leaks right out of it as it twitches and jerks without you even touching it), leaving a slick trail in its wake when you roll your hips back, fingers tightening around the hollows of his knees. His hands scramble to find something to hold onto, but before they can reach your shoulders, you pound in again with another brutal snap of hips, and the sound you make is drowned out by his.

Sasuke's head rolls back against the coverlet and he lets out a cry so loud, so uninhibited, you can't believe it's actually Sasuke who's making it. Sasuke, who is normally so quiet and reserved; Sasuke who always suppresses anger into passive-aggressive silence or biting statements; Sasuke who only ever screams in battle -- cries out each time you slam right into that tight, hot channel; fucking him so hard, it's like you want to break him apart with the thickness of your cock.

They're loud, these sounds, hoarse and utterly primal. There's something uncontrolled and animalistic about it all, something that's nothing like Sasuke; there's only these whimpers and these moans, these gasps and choked groans, rising and falling in decibels that reflect how hard you thrust.

And sometimes, like now, it sounds like, "Fuu--aahhhhh! Kakash--haah--hahh..." -- but he never quite finishes, words always interrupted by these guttural vocalizations; by skin slapping against skin; the heavy staccato of your balls swinging against his ass, with each deep thrust that drives right into that culmination of pleasure within him, forcing him higher and closer with every shuddering thrust that threatens to split him in half -- and then he's moaning, nearly sobbing with pleasure, it's too much, too fast, and he wants-- needs control, struggling to take back what you've broken down by trying to reclaim the rhythm and the thrusts, the depth and the strength, but you hold him the fuck down so he can't move, can't rock back, can't meet you thrust for thrust or do anything but scrape your back and shoulders raw with hands gone mad--

"FUUUUCK!"

You suddenly slow down, and he lets out an uncontrolled cry of rage and indignation, trying to move his hips, trying to fuck himself over that edge, except you have him pinned, and you don't let him.

"Tell me what you want, Sasuke."

He glares, and just tries to catch his breath. You pull out all the way, then slam in hard, once. "--aahh!"

"Say it." And then you're fucking him so hard, he can barely get in a breath in between the maddening tempo-- you suddenly stop.

"DON'T FUCKING STOP!" He growls, struggling under your grip, and you feel his ass tightening around you and god you are so fucking close.

"Why not?" Just for that, you pointedly don't move, even with your cock feeling like it's about to burst.

"Fuck you!"

"Ah, you want to try that?"

He just stares at you like you're fucking crazy (you already came to terms with the fact that you most definitely are, and it has nothing to do with yourself, and everything to do with him.)

"Mm..." You hum softly, and then rock into him nice and slow, far too casually for it to be anything really satisfying. He feels like an inferno around you; it's taking all your self-control to keep yourself from falling over that edge, so you slowly pull back out.

Sasuke lets out a groan of frustration and huffs out an angry breath, then glares up at you, hands moving over your hips to clutch your ass. "Kakashi... if you don't finish what you started, I'm going to kill you," he growls, and you almost laugh, except he suddenly slams you back into him with all his strength, a hoarse cry leaving both of you at the sensation of your cock driving back in so deep, so hard--

Hips slam against hips, sweat so hot, so thick; the pungent smell of sex overpowering and there's nothing but this; nothing but him and you, and the world you make between you, spilling out of you and into him, then back again in a cycle that never ends (it's always cycles, isn't it) -- you lean back on your knees, watch him struggle as you pin him down with steady pressure on his legs and fuck him into the mattress, cock thrusting hard, hard, harder in and out of that tight asshole so fast, so raw, he's going to be bruised and sore and maybe a little swollen tomorrow--

But it feels so fucking good, and the pleasure is so intense, this knot of hot sensation growing out of control, and he's panting, and you're panting, and the sounds you both make are nearly as deafening as your pulse in your ears; as lewd as the sounds of your oiled cock ramming in and out -- short, fast bursts that have him going, "Hah..hah...hah..." -- then long, driving thrusts that reward you with loud, sharp bursts of sheer pleasure vocalized in hoarse tones.

"AHH! Fu--fuckkk...I ...I can't..." take it anymore, you finish his sentence mentally for him, seeing that pretty red flush spread out all over him-- he's convulsing and clenching around you so strongly, walls shuddering as you slam, slam, slam-- and then his hand is on his beautiful twitching cock drowned in a thick pool of its own juices, so you let go of one of his legs to slap away his hand, taking over for him instead. He's so hard, so slick, and hot in your hand as you match the rhythm of each stroke with your tempo-- and he goes fucking crazy, his body a ribbon of motion, moving and shaking under yours-- too hot, you're gonna come, you're gonna fuckin--

It's too much, too hot, too everything at once -- it quivers then bursts, and nothing else exists in this world but Sasuke-- so beautiful, this boy, so damaged and perfect and flawed all at once, so very everything and nothing, all in the same breath, and at this very moment there's only this, nothing but him, this heat, and the intermingled sound of two hearts clashing in a cacophony of a unified pulse racing too fast-- he screams, arches, thrashes under you, contracting so hard, so violently, the pleasure is too large-- liquidsensationheat fucking explodes within you and all you know is this, this feeling that's too big, and you think you're screaming but you don't know if you are or not because you're coming so hard, filling him with hot wave after wave of come, and it just goes on and on and doesn't stop, doesn't stop, doesn't stop-- there's only this catharsis, this endless wave of destruction, and it's all broken apart.

All that's left is the sound of his heart, beating louder than your own.

------
TBC...

A/N: Desire, desperation, hunger, need -- these are all tricky things to write about, as is sex. I didn't want to write this chapter like a PWP -- it was important for me to plunge the reader into Kakashi's mind and give them everything he sees, experiences, and feels in a way that forces the reader to be part of what is going on and take an active role. For some people, something like this is dangerous, violating, and even uncomfortable. If you are one of those people, unfortunately, there is no other way this chapter would've worked correctly. I know, because I initially wrote three different versions in three different point of views, and had five readers check it.

In the end, I realized that even if this makes you a little uncomfortable, what's happening here is so powerful and meaningful, that it has to be like this. If it doesn't work for you, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have written it any other way. I simply wouldn't have been able to.

This moment is more about Kakashi than it is about Sasuke, even though the story, at its very core, is all about Sasuke, whose mind we've spent more time in throughout the duration of IH. In many ways, this chapter is a culmination of everything that has occurred in the past nine chapters. It's about so many things -- ranging from love to destruction. (Though I'll leave it up to you to figure out where everything is and what it all really means, because nothing is quite what it seems on the surface -- you have to look underneath the underneath.)

I experimented quite a lot with structure, prosepoetry, form, and delivery. And I struggled with myself all throughout writing this -- it was very difficult for me to work through it, as someone who doesn't have much experience writing this kind of sex in fiction (and to be honest, I'm not sure if I'm happy with it...) And while this chapter is all about sex, the sex isn't nearly as important as the things that go on around the sex. While sex is hot and great, I don't feel it is as important as what this entire act, this process, ultimately accomplishes.

In any case, thank you all for reading this far -- we're about two chapters, maybe three, from the end! It's been quite the whirlwind, and I have a lot of people thank, especially my beta editor, , who owns IH as much as I do. I also have to thank quite a lot of readers: , , , and . You guys really helped me figure out my direction in this chapter. I hope the end result pleases you.

Last but not least, I want to specially thank for drawing this gorgeous picture of Kakashi and Sasuke. I tried to color it, but it didn't finish in time, so I guess you guys will have to just enjoy it in black and white with some funky color textures for now. Thank you so much, imli -- you're the best!