Messengers Keeping Busy

Kotetsu stared first at Genma, then at Raidou, but could find no clues on either of their faces. Shhhhhh? What in the nine hells did “shhhhhhh” mean? Kotetsu felt a drop of sweat slide down the side of his face and over his ever-present bandage as his fate swung between multiple voyeurism and death.

Izumo straightened up his arms a bit, looking towards the wall opposite the bedroom door. “What’s wrong? Are you worried about those documents we were supposed to get?”

Kotetsu slid his gaze from the immobile jounin to the back of Izumo’s head, incredulous in spite of himself.

“Dude… Have we met? Izumo, this is Kotetsu. Kotetsu, I’d like you to meet Izumo. I don’t give half of a rat bastard’s FUCK about those documents!”

Huh… Turned out that Izumo would get aroused even when Kotetsu said inane things like “half of a rat bastard’s fuck.” Interesting, he thought, as he watched Izumo lean his forehead back down to the mattress and reach down to circle and start stroking his own erection with the joined thumb and middle finger of his right hand. Verrry interesting.

Kotetsu tore his gaze away just in time to see Genma silently henge into a sock lying on the floor of the doorway. An instant later Raidou henged into a pair of boxers about a foot from sock-Genma. Since death from laundry didn’t seem imminent Kotetsu nervously looked back to Izumo, just in time to see him reach just a little further back and start teasing his own hole. Slow circle, slow circle, slight push… Slow circle, slow circle, slight push.

Oh, hell yeah, Kotetsu thought as he repositioned himself on all fours behind Izumo, giving him a teasing lick. He pictured himself wiping the sweat off of Izumo’s forehead with sock-Genma and wiping Izumo’s come off of their stomachs with boxer-Raidou. FUCK those guys! Speaking of those guys fucking…

He raised his eyes to the screen, but the picture was shaking up and down so badly it was difficult to tell exactly what was going on.

“Look, ‘Zumo! I think that bastard Kakashi started jerking himself on the job.”

Both chuunin watched as one of the on-screen men, must have been Raidou, picked what looked like a shoe up off of the floor and flung it straight at the camera. The picture righted itself and showed an enticing side view of blindfolded Genma gently palming his balls while riding Raidou.

Izumo closed his eyes and turned over to lie on his back. He gently nudged Kotetsu’s legs until they were spread far enough apart that Izumo could wiggle his body in between them, squirming down the bed until Kotetsu was straddling him.

“Talk to me,” Izumo pleaded, lifting himself off the bed just enough to rub his erection against Kotetsu’s.

Kotetsu self-consciously glanced over at sock-Genma and boxer-Raidou. Boring. He looked back over at on-screen Genma sliding off of on-screen Raidou, positioning himself on all-fours, and reaching back to help guide a now-kneeling Raidou into his entrance. Niiice…

“Please?” whispered Izumo, eyes still closed. He slid up against Kotetsu with more force, licked his lips, then left his mouth slightly open.

“Oh, fuck yeah, ‘Zumo” Kotetsu murmured, crawling up towards that oh-so-inviting mouth. “You want to hear something other than Raidou as he pounds his cock into Genma’s tight ass? Having a hard time hearing Genma say, ’Harder. Fuck me faster’? Yeah, the sound’s not too good, but I can see that’s what they’re saying. Just like I can see your warm, wet mouth begging to be fffuucked”

With that, Kotetsu thrust his cock into Izumo’s waiting mouth. He watched on-screen Raidou angle himself to thrust deeper into on-screen Genma, and listened to Genma begging for more, harder, faster.

Izumo pulled his head back just enough to make room for his right hand to reach in and gently rub first one, then the other of Kotetsu’s testicles between his thumb and middle two fingers, then pressed his head back into the mattress and pulled away, licking a wide stripe up Kotetsu, as he again pleaded, “Talk to me…” He probed the slit, then the underside of Kotetsu’s erection before moving his hand to the Kotetsu’s base and taking his entire cock deep into his mouth.

“FFFUUCK YEAH! Oh, fuck, ‘Zumo. My cock is so fucking hard right now, when you fuck me with your mouth like that I… Oh, shit… Oh, Izumo, you’re fucking gonna make me…”

Kotetsu quickly stopped speaking and hoped it wasn’t too late, but Izumo knew him too well and wiggled and squirmed until Kotetsu was straddling his chest.

“Oh, no. No WAY are you coming already. Not after staying up all night.“

Kotetsu couldn’t take the pressure in his groin. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and started fisting himself, panting, “Let me just finish this up real quick, then I’ll be good to go.”

“No, no, NO! Stop… Please! Once you cum you’re gonna crash. Please, Kotetsu? Are you LISTENING?”

Apparently not. Even sock-Genma and boxer-Raidou could see that Kotetsu was past the turning back point and intended to jack himself, then fall asleep. The bastard.

Izumo scooted backwards, deciding that desperate situations called for desperate measures. He pulled most of his hair back into a ponytail, held it with one hand, and used the other hand to pull pieces loose on either side of his head.

Looking straight at Kotetsu he raised the pitch of his voice and called out, “Shikamaru! Some messengers from the fifth want to speak with you!”

Kotetsu looked blankly at Izumo, then jumped off of the bed so quickly he staggered backwards onto the floor. “The FUCK??? Man, that is… You are so fucking SICK. Ah, man. Are you shitting me? You’re going to channel Shikamaru’s MOM? Right NOW? Fucking hell!” He closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously.

Izumo, who had gotten harder with each “FUCK” and “fucking,” figured out too late that his idea was a little *too* effective as he saw Kotetsu’s wilting erection. Oops…

Kotetsu quickly crab-walked over to the DVD player and hit *pause*, freeze framing blind-folded Genma on his knees, bent over the bed with Raidou right behind him looking straight towards the camera with an odd leer on his face and one finger crooked in “come here” kind of way. What the…

He looked back at Izumo, cringed, and quickly looked away.

“Seriously, ‘Zumo. I can’t even look at you now.”

Izumo threw himself back on the bed and covered his head with a pillow just as sock-Genma and boxer-Raidou’s henges broke. The jounin were crouched, naked, in the doorway, shaking with barely contained laughter.

Naked? Kotetsu wondered how exactly one stripped naked while transformed into clothing, and yet left no trace of the actual clothing that was removed. Maybe jounin rank was something worth looking into after all.

Genma and Raidou, still tying not to crack up, crawled out into the hallway as Kotetsu turned to Izumo and said, “Great idea, dumbfuck. Now all I can see is…” He broke off the rest of his sentence, turned away, and shuddered. “What now?”

A minute or so passed in silence.

Then, a wicked grin spread across Kotetsu’s face as the perfect solution occurred to him.

“I know how to fix this. You want to play middle-aged Nara dress up? Forget that nagging bitch. Tonight, or” he glanced out the window at the fully risen sun, “more accurately, this morning, you get to be Shikaku-san.”

Izumo blinked, opened his mouth, shut it, then blinked again. Shikaku? As in Shikamaru’s DAD Shikaku? Izumo absently rubbed his still-very-hard length with his right palm. He looked at Kotetsu, then glanced over at the freeze-framed DVD. Well, that Nara guy *was* kind of hot…

Kotetsu warmed up to the idea as his looked over Izumo’s face and hair. “Okay,” he mused out loud. “We just need some hair gel and a hair band. Of course we have to be in the apartment of the guy who ties with you for the Flattest Shinobi Hair Award.” He quickly added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with incredibly flat hair or anything.” Kotetsu was nothing, if not sensitive.

“No offense, dude, but would you mind keeping a pillow over your head until we get this figured out?”

Izumo sighed, flipped over onto his stomach, and pulled a pillow over his head.

Kotetsu turned to admire Izumo’s muscled backside just as a tube of hair gel came sailing into the room, smacking him on the side of his head. He picked it up and read the sharpied words, “property of Namiashi Raidou.” He turned to the bedroom door, mouthed, “Thank you!” to the two heads peeking around the corner, and turned back to Izumo.

“Oh, look! Hair gel! Now we just need a hair band.” He waited, but no hair band came sailing into the room. Right, right… Raidou’s hair was pretty short. Hmmmm…..

He grabbed a bathrobe tie off of the floor, pushed the pillow off of Izumo’s head, and started running the fingers of his left hand through Izumo’s hair. Izumo moaned softly and pressed his poor, waiting-since-4:30 a.m. erection into the mattress. When he slowly rolled over Kotetsu could finally look at him and clearly see him.

“You know, I think your hair is too short to go up into a pineapple ponytail.” He gently stroked the side of Izumo’s face, then grinned as another great idea came to him.

“Guess we’ll have to think of something else to tie up.”