Divided Loyalty

A/N: Oh, man, this took forever to write. Juggling very tense university carriculum, real life, two fics and art is not as easy as one might think it would be. XD I am not sure how well this chapter turned out. I wrote it over the course of two weeks, writing paragraph or two a day, and I am afraid it turned out a little disjointed. Tell me what you think, please? T_T



CHAPTER 12





The cool, grey morning light seeping into the room slowly awoke Kisame. He scrunched his eyes for a moment before slowly blinking, feeling a little confused and disoriented, and it was a novel feeling in itself, because he hadn’t allowed himself to wake up disoriented in years. An S-ranked missing Nin didn’t survive for this long by letting his guard down. And yet, here he was, spending several precious seconds wondering where he was. There was familiar warmth pressed next to his body, another form spooned with his back to his chest. He blinked again and in the hazy twilight focused on a pale, smooth shoulder and tousled raven hair above it. For a second, he expected Itachi to turn around and softly smile at him, bid him good morning with his melodic voice and then snuggle even deeper in his arms. Itachi liked to cuddle, despite his frigid façade.



The form next to him murmured something under his nose, turned around pressed himself even closer, snuggling deeper into the warmth of his body. Kisame examined the familiar and yet different features – straight nose, full lips, heart-shaped face, no deep-seated dark circles around the eyes. Long, sable lashes laid upon high cheekbones.



Kisame watched and waited for the disappointment, the bitterness to come, but no such thing happened. All he felt was a familiar warmth – perhaps, not as white-hot and consuming the way it had been with Itachi, but a gentle, tender glow of protectiveness. It was the same sort of warmth as before. He wondered if he should try and feel surprised or he should just accept it.



The memory of Itachi still caused him pain, and he still grieved, but he was no longer in agony, he no longer felt alone. It was a good feeling.



His fingers instinctively found Sasuke’s hair and threaded through it, marveling at the soft, silken texture. The colour was a shade different than Itachi’s had been, more bluish than his late lover’s almost reddish shine under bright light, but he discovered that he didn’t mind that difference. He didn’t mind any of the differences. Sasuke muttered something sleepily again and blearily opened his eyes. After several attempts, he focused on Kisame’s face and blinked, then flushed and looked away. He seemed strangely shy, compared to the wanton kitten from the previous night, rocking back hungrily into his thrusting cock. The memory of what they had done, of the way Sasuke felt so hot and tight and eager around him caused a new wave of arousal to course through his relaxed body and he began to harden under the sheets.



“Good morning.” Kisame said neutrally, trying to ignore his arousal, waiting to see how Sasuke would react. The first morning after was generally something that tended to be awkward and he tried to ease the process as much as he could. His growing arousal didn’t make things any easier, but he wasn’t a highly trained and experienced Nin for nothing, after all. His expression betrayed none of his desires.



Sasuke actually smiled. It was a small, shy, unsure smile, but a smile nonetheless.



“Hi.” He replied. “I, uh…” he licked his lips uncomfortably, looked around, then focused on Kisame again. “What now?” he asked, appearing distinctly lost and confused. “How do things change now?”



“Things don’t have to change if you don’t want them to, Sasuke.” He explained mildly. “We’ll still live together, you will begin once again, I hope, coming with me on my fishing trips, I will teach you water jutsu…” he paused, wondering whether to voice his thought out loud. “I will take care of you.” He finally stated.



Sasuke stared at him. His expression was strange – certainly not angry, but not happy either. He looked surprised, then looked wistful and a little fearful. Apprehensive, even.



“Take care of me.” He repeated slowly, as if trying to taste the words.



“Yes.”



Kisame waited for the reaction, whatever it would be, but the young man remained strangely blank.



“No one’s taken care of me since I was six years old.” He told him flatly.



Carefully, he reached and cupped Sasuke’s cheek, absently noticing how his hand was large enough to cover him from chin to the top of his forehead. Compared to Kisame, Itachi had practically been tiny, and he had always been very mindful of their size difference. It occurred to him now that Sasuke was even smaller than Itachi. The warm, protective feeling increased.



“Well, maybe it’s time someone started?” he said lightly. Sasuke’s smile returned as well and he pillowed his head on Kisame’s broad shoulder.



“I don’t want to be a burden.” He said softly.



“What?” Kisame blinked, mind shifting gears and trying to keep up with the change of topic. “Sasuke, you are not a burden.”



The younger man snorted.



“I have been thinking about it a lot, lately. I must have been a burden for Itachi. All that he did… you said that he did it for me. He hurt himself because of me. He killed our parents because of me…” he let out a shuddery breath. “He died so I could live.”



Kisame paused and closed his eyes, because Sasuke’s words invoked memories he wanted to bury and never revisit again. He could still feel the small, cooling body in his arms as he carried him back to Ame.



“Sasuke, look at me.” He said seriously.



Hesitantly, the younger man lifted his gaze and met his.



“None of what happened between the two of you was any of your fault. I want you to understand that, accept it and always remember it. What your brother did for you, he did it out of love. When you love someone as much as he loved you, the sacrifices you make for them are not a burden. They hurt, yes, but they are not a burden.” He took a deep breath and continued. “There’s something else that I need you to understand. During the last one year of his life, Itachi became more and more sick, not just physically, but mentally as well. That too, wasn’t any of your fault. His own body, and his mind, affected by the Mangekyou, turned against him. His life slowly became pure agony and he craved the release only you could provide. You gave him closure, you allowed him to depart from this world the way he wanted to – being as close to you as he could. It was you, Sasuke, who relieved his burden in the end.”



Sasuke stared at him at those words, dark eyes welling up but not tears spilling.



“I never looked at it that way.” He murmured softly. “I saw that he was sick when we fought but…”



“He was dying. He would’ve been dead long before your fight in the temple hadn’t he supported himself with an insane amount of drugs and his own steel will to continue until he saw his work done.” Kisame paused, knowing that here came the hardest part, but he needed to be completely honest to Sasuke. “For a long time, during my partnership with Itachi, especially after he got sick, I hated you, Sasuke.” The young man blinked, hurt and surprised, but Kisame ploughed on. “I despised you, because you were the center of your brother’s world, and I wanted to be in that spot. I loved him, and I believe that he loved me, but you were the one who was the most important. I hated you not only because I was jealous, but because I too had a brother once, and unlike Itachi, I could not bring myself to sacrifice myself for him. I live today because he died for me. Much like you do now.”



Sasuke looked anxious and hurt and confused.



“You hate me?” he asked softly, voice oddly soft and childlike.



“No. Not anymore. Not since I accepted Itachi’s sacrifice, not since I got to know you. Itachi did… what I couldn’t do. And you deserved it. You deserved his sacrifice. Never doubt that. And I… I failed to protect and take care of my brother, and I couldn’t save Itachi, but I swear to you, I will take care of you.”



Sasuke stared at him, worrying his bottom lip, his large dark eyes strangely moist and shiny in the morning twilight. He didn’t cry but Kisame could tell that he wanted to. In the end, the younger man took a deep, calming breath and leaned to kiss his new lover full on the mouth, no shame or hesitation evident this time. The kiss was both sweet and passionate and Kisame didn’t hesitate either, answering with equal enthusiasm.



Sasuke climbed onto him under the sheets and giggled when their erections pressed together, Kisame’s already moist and leaking. He rocked and rubbed them together, gasping at the delicious sensation.



“We’ll start a new life together.” Sasuke stated, gaze oddly feverish. “Build it on the ashes of the old one.”



All Kisame could do was nod, staring up the vision of beauty above him. His lover was flushed and straining, black hair messy and tousled. He crawled a bit further up and his slender fingers found Kisame’s engorged cock and palmed it hungrily before guiding it into his already prepared entrance. He sank onto him with a guttural moan and gasped, clutching at Kisame’s chest, trying to control his trembling as his already sore body adjusted to the invasion.



“Damn, you’re so big…” he muttered but it sounded more like a compliment than a complaint. Kisame couldn’t help but grin as the words tickled his ego – he was only human after all.



On top of him Sasuke began to move and Kisame used his grip on his hips to help him and guide him. He didn’t try to set a pace, although it would have been so easy to just use his far greater physical strength to bounce him up and down and there would have been nothing that Sasuke could do about it. He was determined to let Sasuke have control though, this time at least, knowing that the younger man craved being in control of his life as much as he craved someone to take care of him, to guide him, to protect him, much like Itachi did when they were children.



With a whimper Sasuke leaned forward, completely laying over Kisame,. Their chests pressed together and kept rocking his hips, his breath puffing rapidly against neck. He wrapped his powerful arms around him and closed his eyes, allowing the sensation of the supple body writhing in his embrace and on top of him to wash over him. Despite their feverish coupling the previous night Sasuke was still almost painfully tight. He was sure that when this was done, the Uchiha would be too sore to even leave the bed and he indulged in a brief, heated fantasy of smearing soothing cream over his reddened, puffy hole afterwards. The thought of that summoned something primal and animalistic in Kisame and he growled in both arousal and effort to hold onto what was left of his control.



On top of him Sasuke was moving faster and faster, moaning continuously in his ear, his own erection pressed between their slick, hard bellies, each thrust providing delicious stimulation. He turned to lick the corded muscles on Kisame’s shoulder and throat, worrying the smooth bluish skin between his teeth and reveling in the growl that produced. Sasuke chuckled around a mouthful and licked the pulsing vein he found, feeling it throb wildly against his tongue. He didn’t expect the reaction it elicited in his lover though, when the larger man suddenly grabbed his hips and with another growl rolled them over, pulled his smooth, pale legs over his broad shoulders and began to thrust into him in earnest, golden eyes glowing ferally down at him. Sasuke answered this with a growl of his own and raised his hips to meet the thrusting, his slender fingers sliding between their bodies to cup his own erection and rub himself to completion.



Afterwards, they lay, sweaty, panting and satisfied on the bed, Kisame running his large hands over the body of his new lover.



“A new life, you say.” He murmured softly as he kissed his temple.



“Mhm.”



“How about we start it with a shower?”



“Only if you carry me to the bathroom. I don’t think I can walk at the moment.”









When Nagato returned to their little shack he found Kakashi semi-conscious with fever, his tired, thin face pale as chalk with the exception of two bright spots on his cheeks. He did not look good. Laying his bag of groceries he procured on his way back with Arashi-san’s money, he quickly pulled out a pair of blankets – one which he stuffed under Kakashi, and another he wrapped around him. When he was satisfied that Kakashi was as warm as possible under the circumstances, he pulled out the medicine he bought along with several fresh apples. He cut the fruits into pieces and fed them to his lover before giving him the medicine. Kakashi made no attempt to refuse any of it, he obediently moved when Nagato prompted him, opened his mouth when asked and swallowed when he was told to. His single remaining eye was shiny with fever and exhaustion, but now there was fear there also, and it broke Nagato’s heart to see that. It was his fault that Kakashi was afraid of him. He shouldn’t have lost his temper like that in the morning.



Determined to show Kakashi that he meant him no harm, he carefully wiggled under the blanket as well and gathered him in his arms, feeling how hot his body was. Kakashi let out a small, miserable sound but once again made no attempt to resist, just obediently snuggled even deeper in Nagato’s embrace.



“I am so sorry, Kakashi.” The red-head whispered into the night. “I won’t let this happen ever again. I swear to you.”



He wasn’t sure if his lover had even heard him, because Kakashi was quiet for a long time after he spoke.



“You were right to be angry.” Finally the younger man replied, sounding as pained and tired as he looked. “I must be one big disappointment to you.”



Nagato blinked away the traitorous moisture that was gathering in his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt like whatever progress he had managed to make with Kakashi’s mental health was lost and he was the one responsible for it.



“Sleep now.” He told him gently, feeling too tired and upset to try and pick this jumbled knot of emotions at the moment. “I’ll be here. I won’t leave you. You’ll be safe.”



Kakashi did indeed fall asleep later that night, when the drugs Nagato gave him finally broke his fever. His breathing evened out, no longer as heavy and laboured as before, his rapidly racing heart slowing down, his cheeks cooled. Nagato knew that it would take a while to become healthy again – as healthy as Kakashi could be, in his condition – but it was a good start. No matter how broken he was, he still had the organism of a trained Jounin and he needed little support to get back on his feet.



As he watched him sleep in the faint starlight – as it was an unusually clear night for the season – Nagato realized that one concern was alleviated only for another to manifest. His insides twisted and burned and he bit his lip when he felt the shivers running up and down his spine and towards his limbs. His Hunger, suppressed for days on end, finally made itself known and demanded that he feed and soon. Nagato knew that it would go from bad to worse if he didn’t find a proper bloodbag – the shivering would become full-blown tremors, he’d begin to see double, his heartbeat would become irregular, pupils dilated…He would look like an addict going through detox, only time would only make things worse as his body slowly rejected the alien soul crammed into it.



He needed blood as soon as he could manage, which meant in the next twenty-four hours. But who? He couldn’t just abandon Kakashi now and go to look for a client or a victim or whatever they were. He did have to go and meet with Arashi-san tomorrow, and that worried him even more. At the moment, Arashi-san was their lifeline, their one opportunity to make ends meet. Feeding from him was a risk he couldn’t take. What if the other man figured it out? What if he woke up? He would either try to kill Nagato or raise an alarm. It seemed like an almost unsurmountable problem. His arms tightened around Kakashi. He had to make sure Arashi-san was exhausted at the end of their session, so he would fall asleep and he could feed properly. He would be very gentle, very careful. All it took was just a tiny bite to his wrist and he would take what he needed then would lick it closed. He could do this. He knew he could.



Kakashi spent the next twenty four hours struggling with his fever, which went up and down all the time. Nagato worked diligently to keep him warm and changed his clothes when they became soaked with sweat, grateful that they had managed to keep at least part of their stuff dry from the vicious weather. When he finally woke up, he blinked blearily up at Nagato and said:



“Hi.”



“Hi.” Nagato said with a small smile and reached to run his hand through his hair.



“Hi.” Kakashi answered uncertainly, then a soft blush appeared on his cheeks. “I need to use the bathroom.” He admitted and Nagato only nodded. He got up, then helped Kakashi get up and supported him as much as he could as they made their way behind the shack and into the shrubs. It wasn’t the first time Nagato helped Kakashi while he did his business – in his physical condition, especially after the attack, he had been completely helpless, and it had been Nagato who held him up and washed him afterwards. It had been humiliating, but they both were aware that there was no other way.



When Kakashi was done, Nagato carefully led him back to the shack and they both washed their hands with the rainwater gathering in a basin Nagato had put under one of the numerous holes in the roof. When they were sufficiently clean, the red-head unpacked more food from the bag – bread, cheese, pieces of dried meat, a few more apples. Kakashi stared at the feast with a wide eye, casting surprised glances at Nagato.



“Where did all this food come from?” he asked weakly, even if his eye lit up with hunger at the sight of it. Nagato paused, then pulled out the last apple and spread the foot on a large piece of paper over their blanket.



“I…” he licked his lips, ashamed to acknowledge even now what he did to make ends meet. “I found a client.” He finally murmured and watched Kakashi’s reaction from the corner of his eye. Kakashi blinked, paled even more and looked away.



“I am sorry.” He said softly. “I am so sorry.”



Nagato reached and gently caressed his cheek, making him turn around and face him again.



“None of this is your fault, okay?”



Hesitantly, Kakashi nodded, but Nagato could tell that he was doing it for his sake.



“Kakashi…” he tried again, but the other interrupted him:



“Did he hurt you?”



“Wha-? Oh.” Nagato looked down, ashamed and apprehensive about sharing such information with his lover. “No. He didn’t. He was…” a flush appeared on his face “gentle.”



Kakashi nodded and Nagato watched him force a piece of cheese and apple in his mouth, though he had obviously lost whatever appetite he had regained this morning.



“I am glad.” Kakashi softly shared with him. “That he was gentle. I cannot bear the thought of people hurting you because of me.”



“I think we’ve been through this before.” Nagato told him with a small smile, attempting to lighten up the mood. His smile disappeared. “About yesterday…”



“I understand why you hit me.” Kakashi told him around a mouthful. “You were right. You are doing everything you can to ensure our survival and I acted like a spoiled brat. I’m sorry.”



Nagato’s jaw worked.



“No. Nothing excuses me hitting you, taking my frustration out on you. I put us in this situation, I should find a way to get us out of it. Maybe I’ve found one. We’ll see.”



“Your client?”



Nagato nodded.



“He seems to like me. And he’s paying good money. If I can hold his attention, we might manage to spend the rest of the storm season more comfortably.”



Kakashi’s expression was still thoughtful, without a hint of jealousy. There was worry, and protectiveness, but no jealousy. Kakashi was a Jounin. He understood the concept of desperate times and desperate measures. Funny, Nagato could remember having a similar conversation with Yahiko, many years ago, when the food was scant and all three of them had been forced to resort to similar ways to survive. Yahiko too had been protective and angry, so very angry, but he had never been jealous. That similarity between the two of them made his heart ache.



“I have to go and meet him again today.”



He saw Kakashi’s hand tremble and he almost dropped the apple piece he was holding, but the former Jounin managed to regain his composure.



“Okay. I’ll be here.”



Later that day he tried his best to look relatively presentable. Washed himself as much as he could in the cold water of the nearby stream, put on a pair of clean clothes he pulled out of the bottom of their bag, combed his unruly hair, noticing that it had returned to its previous vibrant colour. After bidding Kakashi an uncomfortable and shy goodbye he made his way through the city and, feeling worried and apprehensive and quite uncomfortable, because his hunger gnawed more and more on him. He needed to feed today, or he would be in big trouble.