Into the Fire

Chapter Forty-Six

All too soon the pair were standing outside Kakashi’s door. “So, would you like to come in?” the copy-nin asked nervously as he peered up into unreadable ebony eyes.

“There is nothing I would like more.” Ibiki intoned solemnly, “However, I’m going to pass.”

“Aaaa.” Kakashi murmured, “Well, then . . .” he trailed off in surprise as a large arm moved up to block his escape.

“That doesn’t mean I’m done with you.” the interrogator whispered huskily. The copy-nin realized he was trapped when the scarred man’s other arm moved up to pin him in place, and a delighted shiver raced up his spine when the large body pressed intimately up against him. “I want to learn everything about you.” Ibiki rumbled erotically, making the tiny hairs on the back of Kakashi’s neck stand up when his hot breath washed over the jounin’s sensitive ear. “All the good . . . and the bad. What you like and what you hate. Who’s been kind, and who hurt you, I don’t care how long it takes . . . and then when I know you inside and out . . . maybe I’ll know how to make you so happy you’ll never want to leave me again.”

The copy-nin’s heart sped up when a massive hand carefully slipped his mask down to pool around his neck and Ibiki leaned in to press their lips together, his eyes sliding shut as he memorized the feeling of soft silky flesh against his scarred, slightly chapped pair. Kakashi melted against him with a groan as the interrogator kissed his lanky lover to the beat of their hearts, until eventually, after a lifetime, or a few moments, he wasn’t sure which, those delectable lips opened and he was granted a taste.

Ibiki’s tongue swept into the copy-nin’s mouth, coaxing, caressing and finally claiming it irrevocably for himself as he easily dominated the smaller man. “I never wanted to leave you.” Kakashi whispered when the kiss inevitably broke for air, “You make me feel safe.”

“I swear I will keep you safe.” the interrogator muttered as he trailed his lips over high cheekbones and ghosted over the scar bisecting the infamous sharingan, “You are precious to me.”

Kakashi gasped, pulling back to study the scarred man guardedly, sharingan spinning as he searched the impassive face for answers to unspoken questions . . . gradually relaxing against the interrogator’s broad frame before venturing, “I’d really appreciate it if you’d at least come in for a cup of tea, it’s surprisingly lonely being back in this house.”

“Of course ‘kashi, I’m always happy to spend time with you.” Ibiki assured him as he followed the copy-nin inside, peering curiously into the rooms they passed until they reached the kitchen. Once there, Kakashi exploded in a flurry of activity, rushing around locating the tea and a pot before setting the water on to boil, finally searching for two clean cups. “Enough.” the interrogator growled, pulling the smaller man into his lap and kissing him thoroughly, “You don’t need to fuss over me.”

“I know you didn’t want to stay.” the silver-haired jounin demurred.

“I didn’t say that.” the scarred man protested almost instantaneously, “I said I was going to pass. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself.”

“Why should you?” the copy-nin asked wryly, “I’m a bit confused.”

“I don’t want to have sex with you.” Ibiki replied hesitantly, pausing to marshal his thoughts to explain, only to be jerked out of his introspection by Kakashi’s bitter response.

“Because I’m a filthy whore.” he stated angrily, “No . . . not even that, I’m just a slut who’ll sleep with anyone, why would you want to sully yourself.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” the interrogator growled, grabbing the copy-nin’s arms, forcing the jounin to stay and face him. “What I was trying to say is that I don’t want to just have sex with you. I told you I spent time with Genma and Iruka while you were gone.”

“Yes.” the copy-nin replied frostily, “Of course, that wasn’t slutty at all.”

“Would you shut up and listen to me.” the scarred man barked as he pushed the slighter man’s arms above his head, easily pinning him in place so he could continue. “I want what they have, not just sex . . . fun, companionship, friendship, family . . . and I want it with you, Kakashi. So I don’t want to just fall into bed with you . . . not that I don’t want to, believe me it’s taken all my will power not to just rip that kimono off you . . . but I want to do this right, and that means I need to get to know you, to make you fall as in love with me as I am with you because I don’t want to have sex with you ‘kashi . . . I want to make love with you.”

Ibiki studied the dumbstruck jounin cautiously, unsure of what his reaction would be to the interrogator’s unplanned, and uncoordinated, confession. “You love me?” the copy-nin breathed anxiously, worried eyes searching the scarred face for answers.

“Very, very much.” Ibiki assured him with a broad smile, “You’re all I can think about.”

“You don’t hate me?” Kakashi pressed, “This isn’t some kind of trick . . . some punishment for what I did to the village?”

“You didn’t do anything to harm this village, in fact, you risked yourself to save Genma. Besides,” the interrogator continued with a sadistic grin, “anyone who wants to hurt you has to go through me. I swore I’d keep you safe.”

“You can let me go now.” the copy-nin muttered, red flaring in his cheeks, “The tea is ready.”

“But I don’t want to let you go.” Ibiki husked, pressing himself flush against the jounin, “Can you feel how much I want you ‘kashi?” he muttered, grinding himself into the slighter man and relishing in the answering hardness. The scarred man bent his head and kissed the copy-nin passionately, heart soaring when the lithe figure melted in his arms, surrendering compete trust and relaxing in the confining hold.

“Stay with me?” the copy-nin entreated, “We don’t have to have sex but . . . it’s so lonely in this house, I can’t sleep. Please . . . I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course I’ll stay.” Ibiki soothed tenderly, smoothing rumpled silver strands out of the jounin’s eyes, “Anything you want.” He scooped up the smaller man, shocked at how fragile he suddenly seemed, striding back the way they’d come until he reached a large comfortable room with a few couches still draped in sheets and a long unused fireplace. “This looks like a likely spot.” the interrogator declared, whipping the sheet off one of the couches and depositing his precious cargo before moving to the fireplace and quickly setting the logs inside it ablaze. The scarred man tenderly lifted the copy-nin, stretching out on the sofa with Kakashi sprawled on his lap, strong arms cradling him close. “So, why don’t you tell me about growing up in this house?” he prodded.

“I don’t remember much . . .” the copy-nin began hesitantly, “my mother died when I was four, I have her eyes . . . eye.” He fixed the interrogator with a shuttered gaze, pausing for several moments before continuing thickly, “After that it was just me and my father . . . we were both away on missions most of the time. Then one day when I was nine I got home a day early from a mission . . . I knew something was wrong as soon as I opened the door, it was so quiet . . . and then I smelled the blood, there was so much blood. I tried to revive him, but it was too late. That was the last time I was in this house . . . I went to live with sensei . . . and when he died I moved to the bachelor apartments, and now I find myself back here again.”

“You should renovate . . . you know, change the rooms around, get new furniture, paint.” the interrogator suggested with a shrug, “I’d be happy to help.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Kakashi asked curiously.

“This is your home . . . I want you to be comfortable in it.” Ibiki explained, continuing hesitantly, “I think we could be happy here.”

“You’d move in with me?” the copy-nin breathed.

“If you’ll have me.” the scarred man declared, “I’ll live wherever you wish.”

“Here is good.” Kakashi said with a small, genuine, smile, “Here is very good.” He rolled over and nuzzled into the interrogator’s broad chest, relaxing into the affectionate embrace as he mumbled, “Your turn, tell me about your childhood.”

“My father died on a mission when I was eleven.” Ibiki responded quietly, “My mother was pregnant with Idate. She died when I was fifteen, I had just turned chuunin. When I was seventeen I was captured on a mission to Rock . . . Idate had just started at the Academy . . . since my return I rarely have missions outside the village. Idate defected when he was thirteen, since then I’ve been alone.” he concluded with a shrug. “It’s a pretty typical story for a shinobi.”

“That was ten years ago.” the copy-nin said in shock.

“You seem surprised.” the interrogator said with a sad smile, “Unfortunately you’re not the only lonely man in this village.”

“Well now we don’t have to be lonely anymore . . . we have each other.” Kakashi murmured sleepily, tilting his head up to fix the tall man with a wary eye.

“Yes, we do.” Ibiki replied happily, “Now relax, go to sleep . . . I’ll be right here.” He rubbed comforting circles on the copy-nin’s broad back, smiling slightly when the tension finally left the lanky frame and Kakashi slipped into slumber, the scarred man frowning as his thoughts turned to how light the jounin was. We’ll get you back in shape, ‘kashi, he thought . . .before his musings extended from the man to the evening they had just shared, eventually drifting off to the comforting rhythm of his lover’s heart.

“I wonder how their date went?” Genma idly asked a drowsy Hokage.

“I’m sure you’ll get a play by play in the morning, Gen.” Iruka replied indulgently.

“But I want to know now.” the senbon sucker replied petulantly.

“I know you do . . . but if you interrupt them Ibiki will kill you, and I don’t want that.” his lover chided.

“Oh, they’re not having sex.” the honey haired man replied confidently.

“And how do you know that?” Iruka queried.

“I told Ibiki not to.” Genma said with a shrug, “That it would be best to go slow.”

“And you honestly believe that he’s going to pass up a chance to sleep with the man he’s been pining over for months because you said so?” the Rokudaime said with disbelief.

“Yup.” came the smug reply, “He trusts my judgement.”

“Why?” the former teacher asked honestly.

“I snagged you, didn’t I?” came the smug retort, and the only way Iruka could respond was to kiss his grinning lover senseless.

“Asuma.” Kurenai’s voice roused her slumbering husband.

“Yes dear.” he muttered drowsily.

“How early is too early for me to stop by Kakashi’s?” she fretted.

“Go to sleep Kurenai.” the bearded man grumbled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tightly against him before nuzzling into her hair and drifting back to sleep while she daydreamed about how the copy-nin’s evening had gone, until her eyes finally drifted shut and she joined her husband in dreams.