Into the Fire

Chapter Ten

“Yes Iruka . . . do tell, what is happening with Kakashi . . . and while you’re at it, why are you traipsing around in Tsunade’s clothes?” a deep voice broke in from the doorway.

“Oh, Jiraiya-sama,” the startled teacher pushed away from his boyfriend as he turned to face the sannin, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Obviously,” the toad sage snarled, “now . . . what is going on here?”

“Tsunade has been charged with treason,” Iruka stated angrily, “because of this.” he continued, slapping the file folder into the startled sage’s hands. “Read it Jiraiya . . . then I’ll be willing to talk with you.”

The sannin leaned lazily against the doorframe and began quickly skimming through the personnel folder . . . slowing to a stunned halt as he neared the end. “Is this for real?” he asked suspiciously.

“Iruka doesn’t have any reason to lie to you.” Genma countered threateningly, shifting the senbon slightly between his teeth.

“What the hell was the hime thinking?” Jiraiya muttered despairingly as he sank back against the wall for support, “Where is she?”

“She’s in the holding cells downstairs until Ibiki gets back with Hatake-san,” the new Hokage explained slowly, “he went to retrieve him from the daimyo in grass.”

“Can I see her?” the sage asked quietly, “I need to hear her say it.”

“Yes . . . but you’ll have to submit to whatever security the clan heads have set up, she won’t be escaping on my watch.” the teacher finished grimly.

Kabuto slumped on his bed deep in the snake’s lair. He couldn’t believe it . . . to be so close to his heart’s desire, only to have it once again snatched away. He laid back and shut his eyes, mind going back to the first time he’d seen the copy-nin.

His hand went to his already stirring arousal as he pictured the things he had seen in Mist, imagining how it would feel to have that lean body stretched taut across his lap as he spanked alabaster cheeks until they bloomed red.

Kabuto slowly stroked himself, drawing out the pleasure as he pictured an elegant long-fingered hand in place of his own. He gasped as he slowly circled his thumb over the tip, erection pulsing as he dreamt of perfect pale pink lips wrapped around his straining cock. I’m sorry it took so long precious, he thought as he tried to envision what that handsome face would look like in the throes of ecstasy. He bit his lip and slowed his strokes as his mind replayed the things he had seen Kakashi do during his service, adding a sharp twist of his wrist as he imagined burying himself in that tight heat.

On his knees, the medic mused, remembering the sight of a long pale back arched in passion . . . no, he concluded, I need to see his face . . . I need him to know I’ve been planning this, that I kept my promise.

Kabuto picked up the pace, hand practically flying over his length, head tipped back in ecstacy as his seed poured over his hand and he came with a growl of Kakashi’s name.

Orochimaru stood hidden in the shadow of the doorway, smiling slightly as he thought of how close he was to his goal. Soon, he thought, Tsunade will be here . . . then I’ll have the best healer, and a splendid, strong, new body, he decided as he pictured the copy-nin . . . pity you’ll be unnecessary, he concluded as he smirked at the now slumbering medic.

I know that voice, Kakashi thought as he peered intently at the large figure cradling him, unconsciously leaning into the hand gently smoothing his hair. “Morino-san?” he finally croaked.

“You know me.” Ibiki responded happily, raising a hand and tenderly tilting the copy-nin’s head to face him, “I’ve been worried.”

The jounin leaned against a broad chest as the interrogator’s hand continued slowly stroking his hair. “Where are we?” he whispered.

“A few hours outside Grass.” the scarred man replied, “I came to retrieve you . . . your mission has been cancelled.” he continued firmly, “Tsunade is no longer Hokage of the leaf. No one will be using you any more.”

“Who?” Kakashi husked.

“I don’t know who they chose . . . I left to get you as soon as it was decided.” Ibiki explained as he ran a hand over his head, “Does it really matter? Anyone would be better than that bitch.”

“Why you?” the copy-nin croaked in confusion.

“Because I couldn’t stand to see you hurt anymore.” Ibiki rumbled honestly, “I’ll kill anyone who tries.”

Kakashi smiled briefly at the response before shaking his head sadly, his fate had been decided long ago and he couldn’t imagine it changing . . . although it warmed his frozen heart a bit to think that Ibiki would try. “You don’t need to worry about me Morino-san.” he muttered huskily, “Although I’m grateful you care enough to try.”

The jounin molded himself to the scarred man’s body, wrapping long arms around his neck before continuing. “What would you like me to do to thank you?” he whispered just before sealing their lips together.

He knows who I am and he’s still kissing me, was Ibiki’s last coherent thought before abandoning himself to his feelings and responding, pulling the copy-nin close and deepening the kiss. He tickled the tip of his tongue along the seam of pale pink lips, coaxing them to part and allow him entry before sweeping inside to sample the feast that was Kakashi.

“Gods you taste good.” the scarred man broke away to mutter before crushing their lips back together, tongues tangling sweetly as they slowly and thoroughly explored each other’s mouths. The interrogator carefully adjusted their position, leaning back until he was stretched out on the ground with Kakashi curled up on his chest, massive arms securely enfolding the slighter figure, all the while never breaking their kiss.

Ibiki suddenly realized just what he was doing . . . no matter how good it felt this wasn’t right. The copy-nin was just expressing his gratitude in the only way he knew, the interrogator reminded himself, it doesn’t mean he cares. He pulled back slightly, locking gazes with the jounin’s piercing mismatched eyes. “Hatake-san,” he began sincerely, “you don’t have to do this.”

“You don’t want to?” Kakashi replied almost mournfully.

“I didn’t say that.” the scarred man replied sharply, “But I don’t want your gratitude . . . or your pity.”

“I know, I’m dirty.” the copy-nin stated in a heart-wrenchingly small, sad whisper, “It’s wrong to . . . like it, it’s not supposed to feel good.” He paused for a long moment, “What you must think of me.”

The interrogator pressed a kiss to the silvery crown and rubbed a soothing hand up and down the copy-nin’s tense spine. “I only think good things about you ‘kashi.” he crooned, “You’re so very strong, and brave . . .” Ibiki trailed off for a moment although his hand never stopped its tender strokes, “but you’re so very sad . . . and lonely, I don’t like that.”

Kakashi turned his head to look at him with something like wonder as the scarred man continued. “It is supposed to feel good, you know . . . it’s normal to feel pleasure.”

“Then why?” the jounin asked sharply.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ibiki rumbled as he stroked a pale cheek, “and I’m . . . I don’t even want to look at myself. The only reason someone like you would be with someone like me is out of some kind of obligation. That makes me no better than the Daimyo.”

“You’re the first person who’s cared about what happened to me since sensei died.” the copy-nin responded frankly, “What could possibly be more beautiful than that?”, before tipping his head and tenderly pressing their lips together.

Jiraiya stood outside the holding cell, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as he studied the woman inside. With her chakra suppressed Tsunade looked her true age. But still beautiful the sage admitted to himself. Finally he stepped up to the door and spoke, startling the busty woman out of her thoughts.

“Why hime?” he asked gently.

“You, of all people, are the last person who should be questioning me about it, you old pervert.” Tsunade replied angrily, “Sensei started it . . . who am I to question his decisions?”

“I’m as disappointed in him as I am in you.” Jiraiya replied solemnly, “If I’d have known I’d never brought you back here.” He paced angrily back and forth outside the bars. “I don’t know how to even begin to apologize to Kakashi . . . much less make this right.”

“Why in gods name would you apologize . . . he’s as big a pervert as you are, how burdensome can it be? Besides, he’s not stable or trustworthy enough for anything else.”

“Did you ever consider that maybe whoring him out was why he became unstable? As far as trustworthy goes . . . he’s never done anything to endanger the village or any of its shinobi.”

“Only because sensei put a control jutsu on him.” she retorted angrily, “He’s just like his damn father.”

“Is your nose still out of joint because Sakumo turned you down?” the toad sage growled, “Get over yourself woman . . . he was six years your junior and in love with someone else, of course he turned you down.”

“Sakumo couldn’t be trusted, and neither can his son.” Tsunade spat back, “It’ll be no great loss when the Hatake clan is gone for good.”

Jiraiya buried his hands in his hair and groaned, “I’ll leave you alone then . . . there’s no talking to you.” With that he slowly retreated back up the stairs, leaving Tsunade alone to continue spinning her plans.