Warlord

Chapter Thirteen

Iruka watched the unfolding confrontation in horror. He had never hated his status more than he did at this moment. What good was he if he couldn’t even fight to defend the man he had come to care so deeply for. Despite the death that was sure to follow such a move, he couldn’t restrain himself when Raidou roughly thrust into his Kakashi. A fierce wave of completely forbidden possessiveness rose up in him and he lept to his feet to pull the general away, only to fall back and watch in shock as the warlord broke free and threatened to castrate his oldest friend. But what snapped him back into the real world was the kiss.

He thought hard about the relationship between the two men. Before Kakashi had purchased the scribe he had spent most of his time with Raidou, training, discussing strategy, sharing meals. Now, aside from the occasional morning training session, they only met on official business . . . he’s jealous, Iruka realized with a start, considering what this meant to him and the burgeoning feelings he had for his master.

He saw clearly what he knew his master did not, his status as a slave was a barrier between them, preventing any kind of normal relationship. The general, however, was a perfect choice, strong, loyal . . . and obviously crazy about Kakashi. I need to encourage their relationship, he reluctantly decided, it’s the best thing for everyone. His heart, however, did not agree with his logical assessment.

He sat, huddled against the wall, arms wrapped around himself, tears running unchecked down his cheeks, trying to convince himself that he was making the correct decision. He reminded himself, yet again, not to give his heart so it could be broken on the auction block when he was sold . . . but he feared it was too late. Even now, all he could think about was the way the warlord looked in the throes of passion. He took a deep calming breath and looked up, only to meet worried mismatched eyes.

Kakashi crouched in front of the huddled figure, relief washing over him when sad chocolate eyes finally lifted to meet his gaze. “Are you hurt ‘ruka?” he asked tenderly, taking in the tear-streaked countenance as he gathered the scribe into his arms, holding him close in the protective circle of his arms. The younger man only cried harder, the concern his master was showing him making what he had to do that much harder. “Please talk to me ‘ruka.” the warlord crooned, “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“We’re what’s wrong.” he replied in a small strangled voice, “What we were doing is what’s wrong.” he hung his head in defeat as he concluded, “I’m what’s wrong, and I always will be.”

“I don’t understand.” Kakshi replied, puzzlement clearly evident in his voice, “How can we be wrong? How is caring for someone other than yourself wrong? As far as I can see, you’re the only thing in my whole life that’s right.”

“I’m a slave, master. A possession, like a chair or a pair of pants . . . not something you get attached to. You can’t treat me the way you have been, it’s not right. You need to find someone worthy of you.” Here the scribe paused, gathering his composure for what he needed to say next “General Raidou loves you, you know. He probably has for years and just didn’t realize it. He’s a good match for you, you already share so much. You should go to him and make this right, see if you can work things out.” By the time he finished he was barely audible and his eyes were fixed on a point between his feet, but his eyes were dry and his voice was steady if soft.

“No!” the warlord practically shouted, taking the scribe’s face in his hands and turning it to meet his eyes. “This is not your choice, and it most certainly is not Rai’s, it’s mine and mine alone. If I had wanted to I had years to get together with him, but I don’t want that . . . and he knows it. I chose you. I want you and only you. If you won’t stay with me then I’ll be alone . . . and so will you. Why do you want that?”

“Master.” Iruka began tentatively.

“I won’t say it again Iruka, use my name.” the warlord said sternly.

“Kakashi . . . I want to stay with you, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid that you will get hurt because people won’t accept this. I’m afraid that you’ll realize you’ve made a mistake.” his voice dropped to a whisper as he concluded, “I’m afraid you’ll sell me and my heart will break.”

Kakashi slumped at those words, knowing he could no longer delay the inevitable. “‘ruka, before you I was always alone, I never let anyone get close. I have come to depend on you, your intelligence and your tenderness, to help me become a true leader, not just a strong arm. Without you I would truly be lost. I’ve delayed doing this because I was afraid of being alone again.” he looked up and met the scribe’s gaze as he went on, “I can’t think of you as a slave and it’s cruel of me to keep you one. You’re free ‘ruka,” he concluded bitterly, “free to leave me behind like everyone else. I’ll sign the papers and announce it in the morning. Will you stay with me till then?”

“I’m free?” Iruka queried in a rather dazed tone, “Really, truly free?”

“Yes,” the warlord husked, “free to do as you will.”

The scribe didn’t even stop to think before pressing himself against the taller figure and capturing his mouth in a deeply passionate kiss. When they finally broke apart he smiled broadly. “Silly man, didn’t I say my fear was you’d get rid of me? Do you really think I could leave you? If I’m truly free then I am free to stay, for as long as you’ll have me, that is.”

“I think that will be a very long time.” Kakashi whispered before leaning in to nibble on a tempting bronze throat, “I can’t imagine my life without you now.” He steered them back across the room to the bed, pushing the scribe to lie flat and climbing over him. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, we were in the middle of something when we were so rudely interrupted.” He chuckled as he reached down to stroke the scribe back to hardness before positioning himself over the rigid length and slowly letting himself slide down onto it.

Iruka gasped as he was swallowed in the warlord’s clenching heat. As soon as Kakashi was fully seated he bent down and captured plump lips in a tender kiss before lifting himself on powerful legs and dropping back down.

The warlord practically screamed when his prostate was struck dead-on. He quickly developed a rhythm, rising and falling on the thick length piercing him, faltering slightly when a calloused hand wrapped around his dripping length and began to stroke it firmly. He braced his hands on a smooth bronze chest and used the leverage to speed up the pace, eyes dropping shut under the onslaught of pleasure.

Iruka watched in awe through heavy-lidded eyes as the vision of manly perfection slowly rode his cock, sending coils of lust rippling through every nerve. He bit his lip and concentrated, trying to stave off his rapidly building release. Hoping to even the playing field a bit he firmly grasped the rigid length bobbing so enticingly in front of him and began to stroke, concentrating on the feeling of the smooth satiny skin sliding through his palm and the husky moans he was drawing from his lover.

Kakashi was quickly becoming overwhelmed. The tremendous feeling of relief upon hearing Iruka say he’d stay only increasing his pleasure, until he was moaning and writhing in abandon, chasing his pleasure as he rode the scribe hard, muscles flexing and bunching under sweat slicked skin as his eyes fluttered shut. Finally he came with a keening scream.

Iruka’s eyes flew open when he felt something warm land on his cheek. More warm droplets pattered down and he realized that it was the warlord’s come. The sight of the powerful figure riding out the last of his orgasm, coupled with the extremely erotic thought of his face covered in the other man’s come was enough to push the scribe over the edge and he eagerly shot his seed deep in Kakashi’s quivering passage.

“No more,” the scribe choked as the warlord bent and began to lick his own come off of his partner’s face, “please, you’ll kill me. Sleep now, I’m not going anywhere.” With that he pulled the silver-haired man under the covers, cuddling close with a contented sigh before drifting off to sleep. Kakashi quietly contemplated the events of the day for some time, gradually coming to grips with all the changes the last twenty-four hours had wrought.

“It will all work out,” he whispered fiercely to the sleeping figure, “I promise I’ll make it work ‘ruka.” Too exhausted to fight it any longer he slipped into sleep, comfortably curled around his chosen, the problems of tomorrow still far away.