I Don't Think You Understand

Once again, apologies for not updating yesterday, but I hope you will be glad to know that everything I had to get done did indeed get done, and with some luck, I won't miss another update again.

I do not own Naruto, but if he's good at research papers, I want him next to me right now.

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Curiosity killed the cat. The cat, as an inquisitive being walking around, spied with its slitted eyes a rocking chair. Investigating this phenomenon, it completely focused on the chair, excluding any and all else. Greatly daring (after all, how could a motionless wooden thing hurt?), it sat down under one of the protruding struts, settled itself down, and took a nap.

Not seeing the cat, a human walks in, in need of some physical motion comfort, and begins the rock. The cat was then squashed. Curiosity killed the cat.

After leaving Iruka’s apartment, Kakashi felt like he could relate to that cat. That last question seemed to have shocked Iruka a lot, if the blushing, sputtering and waving around of his hands was any kind of indication.

The evening had degenerated shortly after that; Kakashi felt it best to press a quick kiss to Iruka’s lips and beat a hasty retreat.

Why did he react like that when I asked about sex, anyway? He walked into his home, shut the door, locked it, set up the traps, double-checked them and then removed his shoes. Sighing, he laid down on his bed, removed the hitae-ate and the mask, and stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s not like I was asking him to have sex with me,” he muttered rebelliously.

Oh? What precisely were you asking then?

“Huh?” He thought about that for a second. Iruka...asking about sex...talking to his boyfriend...

“Oh.” He felt his cheeks turning red as he realized the greatness of his error. He may have been thinking I wanted him to show me what I was asking about...shit!

“Well, this is bad,” he commented idly to the ceiling.

Damn straight it’s bad.

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That...that...that...spiky peabrain! Curse words failed Iruka as he stalked around his apartment, face flaming a bright red. He was verbally incoherent for a period; however long it was, he didn’t know, but for that time he busily prowled his apartment, randomnly striking walls and pulling at his hair.

He may not have been able to speak, but he continuously let out a long, frustrated sound akin to that of a moan and scream combined.

Finally, he exhausted himself enough to sit down on his coach and think about what had just happened.

“He asked me about sex...” He put his head in his hands at the remembrance of that voice, with no undertones or hints about an actual desire, calmly inquiring about the nature of sex and the forms it could take.

“If he didn’t fucking want it, why did he ask about it in the first place?” He growled.

Iruka prided himself on his honesty in most things (lying about some things was a given; there was just no way around the question “do you look fat?” so lying about that was a must), and he attempted to put that same practice into effect now.

I think what really pissed me off wasn’t his question, but my reaction to it.

Iruka wasn’t stupid. Kakashi, stupid mask or no, was an attractive man, and Iruka hadn’t gone beyond deep kisses and the occasional grope with him for the month or so they’d been seeing each other.

Iruka’s last relationship had been more than a couple of years ago, so he was feeling the past years of celibacy as an impetus to get closer to Kakashi than was probably prudent at this time.

What really made me angry about the question was my damn reaaction to it. I would have...would have...dammit, I wouldn’t have explained, I would have fucking demonstrated, and he isn’t ready for that...

Kakashi, compared to Iruka, was so inexperienced that he might as well have been Iruka at twelve. No one wanted to be near him around that time because of his rambunctious personality, but all he had wanted was to be touched and liked. Sexual thoughts hadn’t entered his head until a later day, but until they did, no one came near him.

Kakashi, Iruka knew, was like that. The man wanted attention, but he didn’t know what kind yet. Iruka knew Kakashi liked the kisses, and the touches, but how far he could go with him was something he didn’t know, and Iruka knew better than to startle a jounin.

Getting kunai picked out of my various orifices is NOT my idea of a fun date...

He could almost see the ridiculous scene unfold in front of him; they were kissing (Kakashi’s face was blanked out below the eye). Vision-Iruka’s hand was gently running across vision-Kakashi’s back, when all of a sudden, the hand slid around front to cup the groin in a motion that almost couldn’t be seen--

--and vision Kakashi’s hands would twitch, and stained spikes of bodily doom would pop out from beneath his clothes (though I’m not sure how much he could hide in a shirt that tight, or pants that sheer), and before Iruka could blink, the vision-him was on the ground staring incredulously at the ceiling while vision-Kakashi stood over him worriedly.

Yeah, real great ending to what had promised to be an enjoyable evening there...

So what was to be done? He couldn’t just spring on Kakashi with lust in his eyes and purpose in his itching fingers, no matter how much his body screamed at him to do just that.

“And would you like it so much after he punctured our gut?” He snarled down as his lap, his groin in particular; it had remained stubbornly half-hard ever since Kakashi had asked that damn question of him.

Regardless, something is going to have to be done about this whole situation, and soon, because more question like that are only liable to make me lose what little control I have a lot quicker than it’s going now...

“What’s going to have to be done...is I’m going to have to answer his questions,” he said slowly, rolling the words around his tongue. “He asked about sex, so the best thing to do in this situation is give him everything I know about this.”

Not a bad idea, Umino. You might actually retain enough clinical detachment to keep your hands off him until he has an idea of what he’s in for.

He winced away from his subconscious’ accuracy, but did not deny it. “I don’t think it’s bad to desire him,” he said softly to himself. “Right now, though, he’s innocent enough to almost make me feel bad for touching him.”

Mind, I said almost. There’s only so long a person can go before another person takes interest.

Sighing, he got up and got together a pen and a scroll. Might as well write out my strategy now, before I lose what little logic is telling me to do this...

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Someone, in a review, asked a question that I couldn't ignore; what gave me the idea for this fic. The answer is a little varicated, so I hope you'll bear with me since this is all coming out as I think.

I have nothing against PWPs, or short stories where the characters being written get together, find out they're in love, and proceed to screw like rabbits on ecstacy. Not a thing against them, but I find them exceedingly hard to believe and enjoy after a while. If I pick up a book I've never read before (or open a fic I've never seen before), I don't skip to the parts with sex (if I know the story in question has it). Part of the fun of a romance, in my opinion, is the lead-up.

In addition to this, while I have no beef against a story where they just hop into bed, I DO have a problem with stories that just have the characters instantly realize they're in love and then know how to do everything correctly and properly. A story can be fantasy (I often prefer it that way) but it has to have some basis in realism. I'm not interested in plots where the man finds his soulmate and they proceed to fuck each other until they can't walk because the guy and the girl have little to no need for a recovery time, or where the other person is their partner's ultimate lover and knows just how to please. No stuff like that. In my mind, the characters have to work for it. Hence, this story was born.

The cookies are greatly appreciated, and thank you for the mountains of them. Since it is cold here, my body thanks you for helping put insulation on me :-D.