Short Stories

Pairing: Kakashi/Rin

Prompt: Being tied up

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Bondage, Angst

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Feeling

The coarse hemp rope scratches. It is roughly as thick as a
finger and wraps around his body. Is being wrapped around his body.

He has closed his eyes (red and grey and scarred and
normal). He doesn’t want to look at her. He doesn’t want to see her looking
at him. He doesn’t want to see anything, although he has two functional eyes
thanks to his teammate. Teammate-s. One to give the eye, one to transplant the
eye.

(And one to use and abuse the eye until it weeps in
sorrow.)

He doesn’t want to see, and he doesn’t want to remember (blood
gore pain and kunais flickering in the moonlight before they gurgle off into a
scream) so he ties himself to the present with sensation. Is being tied to
the present with ropes getting wrapped around him.

They chafe.

He is naked, having shed his clothes at the beginning (everything,
everything, except the mask because that remains forever and ever and ever
again). She doesn’t mind his nudity. Prefers it actually. If he can’t look
at her, she at least wants to look at him. Touch him like he never allows
outside those moments.

She ties her knots to make him feel. Ties them to press at
uncomfortable places and arousing places (right behind the scrotum and above
the perineum and where the anus dilates) ties them to scratch and itch and
be maddeningly there. Make him forget and stop thinking.

And to make him beautiful. Thin black rope against whitish
pale skin and bluish green bruises and reddish pink scars. She takes care never
to go near those marks of his latest missions (grey armor white mask red
tattoo). She wants him to feel, not to hurt.

Maybe she wants to feel, too.

Not feel like he does. Feel him.

But after that day (and the second one so briefly
afterwards, barely more than a year) she knows he’ll never be able to see
her in that light. So she took what she could and tied where she would and looks
at him with hunger in her eyes. Hunger that he never sees because he always keeps
his eyes shut.

Her hand closes around his member, holding it while her
other one strokes his skin through the diamond patterns crisscrossing his
chest. His arms are bound behind his back (elbow to wrist and each finger separately
and there is no chance he can free himself to form seals) and ankles to
thighs (wrap around and wrap around and wrap around until the thought of
movement becomes a faint memory) and his knees spread far apart.

He strains his thighs to feel the rope and he breathes
through his mouth to not smell how close she is (close, closer, closest, he
wants to tell her that everyone close to him dies) when she softly strokes
him. He lets his head loll back after she goes from holding to squeezing
rhythmically, her other hand wandering from his body to hers. Rustling clothes (skirt
pushed up and panties pushed down and finger pushed in) and irregular
breath and why can’t he close his ears like he can shut his eyes? He only
wants to feel, not to Feel.

Thankfully she stays silent (not as a grave, never ever
as a grave) and he can overlook the trembling in her hand against his body.
He breathes to feel the rope, feel it chafe against his skin. Feel it hold him
together and tie him down and set him free and catch him when he explodes.

He will be sore when the rope comes off. There is always a
price to be paid for not moving for hours (seconds, minutes, days, years?)
and scratchy hemp in tender places. But he is a ninja, and he can deal with it.
Ninja don’t feel pain.

(Or is it emotions? He is too tired to remember how the
rule goes, and he doesn’t - shouldn’t - care about it anyway.)

For now though, he merely feels and breathes. And he wishes
it could last forever.