Questionable Loyalty

A/N: Satteeeerb, you're aliiiive! I MISSED YOU! *HUGS* I felt so lonely without you.



CHAPTER 43





Things settled after that night. If anything, the accident drew them all closer together. Despite his initial embarrassment over Kakashi witnessing his mental breakdown, Itachi began to relax around the Jounin, began to trust him and share with him his secrets and all that tormented him. Kakashi was a reminder of the beloved home he had left behind and once he began to feel secure around him, the younger man grew more and more attached to him. Kakashi truly felt like he had suddenly earned a whole family, even if it was slightly dysfunctional.



As far as Pein was concerned, this sort of development was more than good and he seemed genuinely happy about the closeness that brewed between his lover and Itachi and he encouraged it with words and actions more than once. Kisame didn’t seem particularly concerned. To him it didn’t matter with whom Itachi spent the night, in the end the Uchiha always returned to him – seeking protection and affection. More often than not the Mist Nin shared their nightly escapades. Initially Kakashi had been almost afraid to have sex with him, intimidated by his sheer size – of his height, muscles and the massive organ that jutted up towards his flat, muscled belly when the man was aroused. He hadn’t been sure how all that could possibly fit into him, but eventually Pein convinced him to stay and watch Kisame with his lover one night. He was amazed at the way Kisame touched Itachi – with utmost gentleness and reverence, treating him as if he was something fragile and breakable, his large, sword-callused hands sliding over the smooth, lily-white skin with such tenderness that it was almost painful to watch. He watched as he took his time to prepare his lover to receive him, driving him to delirious frenzy before stretching him with his mouth and fingers and large quantities of the sweet-smelling oil they kept on their nightstand for such purposes. He watched Itachi mewl in need when he was finally breached and stretched upon the massive erection.



Pein had pet him and held him the whole time, his skillful fingers playing with his body as they looked at the other couple on the bed, and he slid into him at the same time Kisame did so with Itachi, pressing Kakashi down on his arms and knees. Rocking back and forth on Pein’s erection Kakashi had leaned and kissed the Uchiha, drinking in his mewls while the Mist nin took him.



Later, while Itachi lay on the bed in an exhausted, sleepy and sated heap, Pein pulled the Jounin in his lap with his back to his chest and lifted Kakashi’s knees up to his shoulders, exposing him fully to Kisame’s hungry gaze. The older man eyed his stretched, glistening hole and his engorged cock throbbed visibly before he crawled up to them and carefully guided himself inside Kakashi.



It stung and his eye watered, but Pein kept whispering sweet nothings in his ear, calling him his good boy, kissing his shoulder and the nape of his neck and Kakashi relaxed around the invading girth, allowing it to slide in fully inside of him. Once Kisame was settled, Kakashi felt an amazing sense of fullness, of being stretched to the max, and yet that stubborn feeling of warmth and safety persisted. So when Kisame began to rock into him there was only pleasure, coming in waves coursing throughout his body every time the tip of the cock inside of him brushed against his prostate. The powerful body moved above his effortlessly, steely muscles playing under surprisingly silken skin with each graceful undulation of his hips. He ran his fingers greedily over them, feeling them bunch and tremble under his curious touch. Kisame growled and buried his face in Kakashi’s neck before looking up and giving Pein a hungry kiss.



Afterwards he lay in an exhausted, sweaty heap next to Itachi, Kisame’s warm seed slowly leaking out of him. One of his lovers began to clean him and he began to nod off, reaching and pulling the Uchiha closer, curling together like a pair of tired kittens.



Pein and Kisame lay on either side of the sleeping pair, watching their peaceful slumber, a large blue hand and a smaller pale one gently caressing smooth, creamy skin. Pein’s expression was sleepy, open and affectionate, something unusual for the stony-faced man.



“You look at him the way I look at Itachi.” Kisame pointed out quietly. “I never thought I’d see you like this.”



“I never thought that I’d find another person who’d become so precious to me.” Pein answered just as quietly. “Someone who understands me, who shares a past so similar to my own.”



“We all understand loss, Pein-sama.” Kisame muttered and his hand passed through tangled but still glossy sable hair.



“I know. But no matter how much you or Itachi understand… you still belong to each other. I cherish every moment I spend with the two of you, but I cannot become a permanent fixation in your relationship. It’s not my place.” His fingers tenderly traced Kakashi’s soft mouth. “And he’s all mine.”



“Possessive, aren’t you?” there was a good-natured teasing in Kisame’s tone.



“As if you’re one to speak.” Was the immediate reply. They both smiled at each other.



After a while, Pein quietly slid out of the bed and walked around it to Kisame’s side to give him a slow, languid kiss.



“I need to go to my place for a little while, stay with them.”



The large Nin returned the kiss and nodded. After Pein left, he slid back down onto the bed and wrapped his arm around the slumbering lovers before slowly drifting off to sleep as well.



Pein quietly walked up to his office, the Akatsuki cloak wrapped around his naked form. He hadn’t wanted to leave the warmth of their bed, but his body, his real body, needed maintenance. He couldn’t ignore that.



The door to his office opened with a quiet hiss and he walked in then stopped dead in his tracks. In his chair there was a man, cloaked and masked, a single Sharingan eye glaring at him behind the hole on the swirl pattern of his mask, his feet propped up on the smooth surface of his desk. Madara. The damn bastard had easily passed through all of his security measures and through the Rain and Pein hadn’t even felt his presence. He repressed the urge to curl his hands into fists.

“When did you come back?” he asked levelly.



“Tonight.” The man answered cheerfully, his gravelly voice grating on Pein’s hearing. “Imagine my surprise when I couldn’t find you in your office.” He remarked and sprawled even further down in his chair, his arms going behind his head. “Imagine my even bigger surprise when I found out that we have a new member!” the last was said as if it was a great joke. “And you didn’t even deem to ask me if I approve of him and his…eeeh, candidacy.”



“His assistance would be invaluable to us.” Pein pointed out coldly.



“His ass seems to be invaluable to you.” Madara answered mockingly.



“It is nothing like th…”



“Oh, but it is.” The Sharingan eye slid up and down his form, noticing the barely buttoned cloak and the naked flesh underneath. “Seems like you’ve just fucked him again.” The man pointed out, his amused tone slowly gaining a steely, threatening edge. “Or, if we have to be more precise, this body just fucked him. Has he seen the real one yet, by the way?”



Pein bared his teeth.



“What do you want?” he asked sharply, his cool mask cracking.



“Ah. So he hasn’t.”



Faster than even Pein’s eyes could see, the man was out of the chair and had moved up to him, grabbing him and slamming him harshly against the wall.



“Take your hands off me.” The red-head hissed furiously. The fingers around his upper arms tightened even further.



“I think that during my prolonged absence you have forgotten how this arrangement works, Nagato.” Madara said, his masked face almost touching his nose, the single Sharingan eye staring right into his Rin’negan. “I am the leader of Akatsuki, I am the one who gives the real orders, and I am the one who approves of new members. You are puppet – nothing more and nothing less. I am tolerating your presence because our goals are the same and because you are talented for a semi-literate street rat.”



Pein made an attempt to jerk himself free of the crushing grip but Madara didn’t let go of him.



“I do not like that you have started acting so independently, you little slut. Because that’s what you are, isn’t it?” his voice dropped to a sibilant, mocking hiss. “Does your new lover know about this, hmm?”



Pein didn’t look away and lifted his chin.



“Ah, so he does. Brave, aren’t you? Telling him such a shameful secret. But have you told him all of your secrets?”



The gaudy mask moved so that the hidden lips were right against Pein’s pierced ear.



“Have you shown him what you REALLY look like?” Madara could feel the body in his grip begin to sag. “You haven’t, have you? He hasn’t seen the real you. All you dare to show him is this pretty puppet. Just how horrified and disgusted would he be when he sees it?” One of the gripping hands let go of his shoulder and slid under the cloak to caress naked skin. “Sex with this body must be very good for him, but what how would he react when he realizes that the real you isn’t even remotely capable of such simple if delicious intimacy?”



“Stop it…” Pein keened softly. “Please…”



“Oh, no. Think about it, Nagato. What would he do when realizes that you have been lying to him for all this time? That you have hidden such a huge, important secret from him? How will he trust you to believe whatever else you have told him?”



Suddenly Madara withdrew completely from him and watched him as he slid down the wall and slumped on the floor, his form trembling as he pulled the cloak tighter around his body.



“If it ever occurs to you again to make such independent decisions and fancy yourself the real leader of this organization, he might just find out. I promise you that.”



With those words, the masked man sank through the solid floor and disappeared.



For a while, Pein sat there, watching at the spot where Madara had just stood, his hands tightening into fists and then relaxing over and over again. He hadn’t felt this trapped and desperate in years, ever since the day Hanzou ambushed them… The memory of that event blazed into his mind and filled him with shame and guilt all over again, as it did every time he thought about it. His eyes closed and he buried his fingers into his hair. Yahiko’s hair. How could he be such a fool? How could he believe even for a minute that he could maintain this charade, that it wasn’t necessary to tell Kakashi the truth? He had been so terrified of rejection when he realized just how deep his feelings for the Konoha Jounin ran – as deep as they had for Yahiko – that was desperate to keep this secret from him, lest the man be revolted by his real form. He knew how it looked like. Sometimes he didn’t know what was worse – seeing the reflection of Yahiko’s face in the mirror but with his own Rin’negan eyes or gazing upon the form he had been born into, now twisted and wasted beyond belief, trapped in a machine that barely kept it alive. How could anyone, even someone as open-minded as Kakashi, accept him like that?



‘Konan accepted you.’ A little voice told him. ‘Yes. But she wasn’t my lover. And even she disliked looking at me, let alone touching me, as much as she tried to hide that.’ He answered.



If Kakashi ever found out, he would reject him, he would leave and he would never look back. What was he going to do?