Four Legged Frolics in Surburban Tokyo

A/N: Sorry to anyone who's hoping for KisaIta in this chapter. . . I wanted to go into what Kisame was doing that night. But I promise chapter three with have a KisaIta scene.

2. The Ancient Tradition of Glory Holes


Kisame pressed down hard on the accelerator of his dad's Acura Integra, pleased when the engine purred and came to life. His fingers caressed the leather steering wheel as he slid from lane to lane, leaving other cars in his wake.

"I think I'm going to be sick," his passenger said. "And, also, your dad is going to kill you."

"Relax, Madara-buchou. Dad's never going to know. Just enjoy the ride."

Madara decided to ignore his new kouhei and long time acquaintance, and just concentrate on not throwing up. Maybe it hadn't been a good thing that Kisame had shown up in town like this.

Madara was surprised when Kisame's name had shown up on the club roster for incoming students, but not unpleasantly so. They went to middle school together for a year, back when Madara's family moved to Okinawa for his father's job. It was quite a coincidence that both of them were now living in this quiet Tokyo suburb, but it was undeniably a good thing for the soccer team. Kisame was a great soccer player, and he already knew enough about Madara to respect him as the captain.

"It's this right," Madara said, turning slightly green when the car skidded into a ninety degree turn.

"So. . . when are you going to get me a date with your cousin?"

Madara rolled his eyes a little. Kisame hadn't been able to stop asking about Itachi since their first day of summer training.

"Distant cousin," Madara corrected. "And Itachi doesn't exactly like me."

"Oh? Why not?" Kisame asked. Madara and Itachi seemed to get along well enough during soccer practice. Considering Madara was the captain and Itachi was the star player, they tended to interact quite a bit, and Kisame had never noticed any antagonistic feelings between the two.

"Probably because I'm a self-absorbed prick."

Kisame grinned at that statement. At least Madara was self-aware.

"Besides," Madara continued, "don't you think Itachi's out of your league?"

"Hey," Kisame countered, "it's all about confidence. I've gotten hotter than Itachi, you know."

Madara raised an eyebrow.

"Well. . . almost."

"This is it," Madara said, pointing to a nondescript grey building, "you can park in the lot to the left."

The tires squealed as Kisame pulled into the lot and came to a sudden stop. They got out and walked to the door of the place Madara had told Kisame about. It looked like all the other doors and buildings along this side of the road, except that a small, worn square rainbow sticker was affixed to the top step. Madara knocked on the door, and soon they were being admitted.

"In honor of our reunion," Madara said, walking through a small maze to what looked like a cashier's booth, "your loving sempai will treat you."

Madara places some bills in the slot of the blackened out booth, and soon a hand was pushing tokens out in exchange.

"Just a typical sex arcade?" Kisame asked, wanting to make sure there wasn't anything weird going on in this place.

"Yeah. I'll meet you outside in an hour."

Kisame nodded and accepted the token that Madara placed in his hand. He watched his sempai walk off in one direction, and decided to go in the other. The club was pretty standard. . . lots of room set up in a mildly confusing way, darks hallways, the smell of sex and maybe a little piss permeating the air. The doors had lights installed on top of them. . . red if empty, green if occupied. Kisame found an occupied room with an adjoining empty room, and decided to peek in and see if he liked what was going on.

Kisame walked into the room and closed the door. There was a television in front of him and a small hole in the wall to the right, and he crouched down to look through it. The hole was small enough, and the room dark enough, that you couldn't see much. He could make out the figure of a man (slightly fitter than average) sitting on the provided seat, his cock (slightly smaller than average) jutting out of his jeans as he stroked it. The light from the television illuminated his crotch, and Kisame wondered if that was on purpose. At any rate, this would do, if the other guy was interested in what Kisame had to offer.

Kisame walked to the television and inserted his token. After that he pretty much made random choices on the screen. Though he identified as gay, he got turned on by it all. Gay, straight, lesbian, transgender, or whatever. Two women with impossible busts soon came onto the screen, and Kisame watched them as he started to get hard. Still standing, he reached down to unzip his pants, pulling out his cock.

Kisame smirked as he heard movement in the next room. He shifted to give the guy a good view as he stroked himself to full hardness. Kisame knew that once the guy got a good look at Kisame's cock, he'd probably extend the invitation. Sure enough, a finger came through the hole, beckoning him toward it. Kisame moved towards the hole, finally letting go of his cock in order to stick it in.

His dick wasn't even halfway though before a mouth latched onto it, and the greedy thing sucked it all in at once. Kisame moaned at that delicious wet heat. Nothing beat a good blow job. . . sometimes Kisame though it was better than even anal. Sometimes. Kisame let the tongue work over his cock at its own pace, and reveled in the pleasure as it traced circles around his cock's head and pressed just slightly against his urethra. Soon the mouth had taken almost his whole cock in, something that left Kisame pretty impressed. The man was sucking him like his cock was the most delicious thing in the world, and Kisame was more than happy to let him.

Kisame leaned further against the wall, bracing his forearms against it in order to get his dick deeper in the hole. He turned his head, watching the porn on the television screen as the other guy sucked him off. After awhile the mouth left his cock, but it was replaced almost instantly with two large hands. The guy alternated between using his hands and his mouth, never leaving Kisame unattended, and after awhile Kisame could feel his climax building in his groin. Just a little bit more, he thought.

The two women on the screen were licking each other's cunts, eating each other out like it was their last meal. The mouth on his cock seemed to be sucking him in deeper than ever before, and Kisame started thrusting as best he could into it. Finally, he felt a hand reach towards his balls, gently cupping them, and that was enough to get him to come. He spilled his hot seed down the other guy's throat. For his part, the man seemed to be swallowing it with much enjoyment, and even kept sucking on Kisame after he was down shooting.

Kisame felt his dick go limp in the man's mouth, and then felt cold air all around it. The guy was done. Before Kisame could crouch down and see if the man needed reciprocation, he heard the door to the next room open and close. Apparently the stranger wasn't much into receiving, which was fine for Kisame. He put himself back into his jeans and left the room.

He checked his watch, realizing he still had more than half an hour before he was supposed to meet up with Madara. He walked around the labyrinth for awhile, checking things out, before he decided to go outside and have a cigarette. He stepped out of the club and into the heat and humidity of summer, then leaned against the wall and fumbled in his pocket. Lifting a cigarette to his lips, he took in the bland scenery around him.

Kisame had been somewhat sad to leave Okinawa, but he could probably get used to living here. He was on a great soccer team, with a captain he could trust. Madara knew his value well enough to make him a starter, despite the fact that he was only a first year. Plus, it seemed that people around Tokyo gave better blow jobs than the boys in Okinawa. Go figure.

The door made a sound then, and Kisame looked over to see if Madara was coming out. Instead, he came face to face with the boy who was, in Kisame's humble opinion, the hottest guy on the soccer team.

"Kisame," the boy muttered. Kisame couldn't help but be flattered by the fact that Itachi remembered his name. He grinned.

"Hey, Itachi-sempai. What are you doing here?"

But of course they both knew what the other one was doing there. Kisame caught sight of some movement behind Itachi, right before a little blond thing pushed himself into view.

"So you're Itachi's kouhei from soccer, huh?" the blond asked, a sly smile on his lips. "What's your name?"

"Kisame."

"Deidara," the blond said, holding out his hand. Kisame shook it before turning his attention back to Itachi, who had come to lean next to him against the wall.

"Come here often?" Kisame asked, then, as an afterthought, "Want a smoke?"

"No," Itachi replied, "and no. If you come here too often you start to see the same faces over and over again."

And with that Madara came stepping out of the club, not surprised at all when he saw Itachi standing there.

"See what I mean?" Itachi asked.

Kisame chuckled, even though he wasn't sure if Itachi had been joking. The other boy had a decidedly serious air about him. "What are you two up to now? Do you want to go somewhere?"

Itachi shook his head at that. "I have curfew at midnight."

"Parents strict as ever, huh, Itachi?" Madara asked, his voice a lilting tease. "If only they knew what you were up to during your free time. . ."

Itachi shrugged at that. "But they're never going to find out."

"Do you need a ride home?" Kisame asked. He hadn't stopped staring at Itachi since the other boy came out, and was all too aware of their proximity together. He was sure that Itachi didn't need to stand so close to him, was sure that he was reading the signals right.

"Yeah," Itachi replied, pushing himself off the wall.

"Shotgun!" Deidara shouted.

Kisame started to walk towards his car, keys jingling in his pocket. But then, considering the situation, he took his keys out and tossed them to Madara.

"Can you drive?" Kisame asked. Backseat time with Itachi was too good to pass up, especially since it seemed like he might have a chance.

Madara caught the keys in his palm. "Why not? After all, unlike you, I actually have a driver's license."