Mirror, Mirror

A/N
to my reviews...You think I would know about Iruka's scar not being an X as I own the damn manga, there for I shall claim blondeness as my excuse as I am one of the few natural blondes, so I can do that.

Mirror Mirror: Chapter 5: The Mission Part II

Iruka’s POV

Iruka pushed forward to the head of the caravan, and waited for Kakashi’s go ahead. (God I am so hot, my entire body is flushed) Iruka had this happen before. Several times before, though usually he was alone, well basically. Iruka had actually taken to watching Kakashi lately. He loved the way the white haired man moved and flexed. He would watch him spar with team 7, using the excuse that he was worried about Naruto. Kakashi knew he was there, but thought he was staying hidden to keep Naruto from finding out about it. In reality he was hiding because every time he watched Kakashi it would make his heart pump out of his chest. It was a strange but wonderful feeling.

“Iruka, lets get going,” Iruka heard over his wireless headset. He flushed just at the sound of Kakashi’s voice, at when he knew Kakashi wasn’t close enough to see him. He had gotten pretty good at covering up his feelings, he had to, after all Kakashi was the number one play boy of all the Jounin. (Everyone knows that he goes for girls, not guys, besides that I could never get anywhere near his level). “Iruka!”

“Hai, moving out. Okay everyone lets get moving,” Iruka announced from the front. (He wouldn’t want me even if he did like men.) Iruka continues to brood, while at the same time darting his eyes from left to right. He was close to becoming a Jounin now, but he was now genius like Kakashi, or a power house like Gai. He knew he would always be second rate, which was okay with him. He preferred to be a teacher; he loved working with the younger students, showing them all the basics. But when it came to Kakashi he always wished he was something more, something special that the copy ninja would notice.

“Hey, Master Iruka.” A man from the front coach of the caravan shouted at him. He turned his head to see what the problem was. The man was holding a wireless communicator out towards Iruka for him to take. Though a little confused by the offer, Iruka took the communicator and placed it to his uncovered ear.

“This is Iruka.” Iruka drew in a slight breathe at both the voice and the greeting he received.

“You have a gorgeous ass you know. At first I was disappointed that Master Kakashi sent you up front but now I see it was to give me a better view.” Iruka flushed bright red turning away from the man who had handed him the communicator and walking quickly out ahead of the group.

“Mr. Kurosaki!” Iruka was using his best scolding voice for this. “I am your body guard such comments are highly unprofessional.”

“Really, then why did you wheel around so fast to give me a better look? You must spend awhile at the gym to get it that tight.” Iruka quickly drew in another deep breathe. This man was not just a pervert he was down right sick. What kind of father would say something like that in front of his 11 year old son? (It’s just sick).

“Mr. Kurosaki, you are setting a horrible example to your son.” Iruka heard a deep chuckle over the phone.

“My son is in his own coach ahead of me. But please continue to scold I adore it when you call me Mr. Kurosaki in that voice. It makes me feel oh so bad.” Iruka stopped cold. (What the hell, this guy was a client, there had to be rules against the client sexually assaulting the body guard.) Not that Iruka didn’t like the attention, Kurosaki was incredibly hansom, tall, and had such a wild look in his eyes. Even his hair, a bright orange, was somewhat alluring. (But god damn, the man needs to learn some basic etiquette.)

“It’s not meant to be a turn on Kurosaki! Damn you need to learn some etiquette.” Iruka was a little upset. He shouldn’t have to take this, he was hired to protect the man not be his eye candy.

“Hmm…perhaps you’re right Iruka-sama. Why don’t we discuss it over dinner tonight, after Master Kakashi starts the evening patrol? We wouldn’t want any disturbances would we?” Iruka didn’t just stop he froze. (Did he just ask me out?) “I will take that moment of silence as a yes, be a good boy and don’t be late; I’ll know exactly when Kakashi leaves.” Iruka could hear the smirk in the man's voice over the wireless.

“Wait I didn’t say yes.” But coming through the earpiece was nothing but silence. Iruka blinked trying to comprehend exactly what had just happened. Iruka turned and handed the wireless to the man at the head of the caravan. (I just won’t show up and then he’ll get the hint. No that won’t work he is obviously one of those people that likes men who play hard to get. So what do I do then, scold him, he already said that turns him on. Still talking to him might be the best way to make him understand that I am not really interested.)

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Iruka had done well at forcing the possible events that might occur at the meeting that night out of his mind. He knew better then to linger, after all he had a job to do. Still that night seemed to come way too soon.

Just as Kurosaki had asked, Iruka waited for Kakashi to take off on his night patrol before he headed to Kurosaki’s tent. (Just a quick talk about his manners then back to the tent to rest before it my turn to take over patrol)

“Ahh Iruka, you’re late.” Kurosaki gave him a somewhat dark glare over his glass of wine. A smirk crossing his lips as Iruka reached his hand up behind his head to nervously scratch the back of his head. Kurosaki had a strong presence, one that Iruka was finding somewhat alluring. “Please sit, I’ve had my chef prepare our meal. The table was already set, the food steaming, and a glass of wine near the plate looked incredibly inviting compared to the rations that him and Kakashi had been eating for the last two days. (A little food won’t hurt, and then the lecture, then I go).

Iruka sat down and indulged Kurosaki by eating the splendid meal prepared for him and sipping on the dark red wine. “Kurosaki, your behavior, I feel, is unacceptable. I am here as your body guard not your eye candy. Since this is a business relationship I expect to be treated in a business like manner.” Iruka watched as the smirk on Kurosaki’s face simply became wider. Kurosaki rose and walked past Iruka toward the opening of the tent. Iruka turned to see him better secure the opening and swallowed hard. (Why do I think that statement did nothing for my case).

Kurosaki was suddenly right next to him, his arm wrapping around Iruka’s waist. “Mr. Kurosa…” His statement was cut off by Kurosaki’s lips. The man was brutal, grabbing Iruka’s chin and pulling down to open his mouth, allowing Kurosaki to force his tongue inside Iruka’s mouth. Iruka began to fight his touch, his kiss, his advances, something wasn’t right. (Let go, let me go) Iruka tried to speak but Kurosaki kept his mouth firmly on Iruka’s lips.

Iruka was then pulled from his chair and forced to the ground under Kurosaki’s body. Every movement he used seemed useless against the man. Kurosaki had obviously had some fighting training. He was strong, forceful, and overly demanding. Tears began to form in Iruka’s eyes as Kurosaki began to rip at his clothes. (No please, I don’t want this. Not from you, please let me go). Iruka’s body was straining, trying to move trying to get away. His fear began to well inside him and he began to cry openly.

“Oh, now now, my darling, you’re the one who asked for this, you’re the one that came to my tent and ate dinner. You owe me this. Now just relax, I won’t make it hurt that badly.” Iruka tried again to struggle to scream as Kurosaki had removed his lips from his mouth.

“Hel..” Iruka’s scream was muffled by Kurosaki’s hand, the red haired man glaring at him. He then replaced the hand with his lips once again as he used his free hand to tear at Iruka’s clothes while the other held his hands in place. (I can’t get away, I can’t move). Iruka began to give in, not knowing what else to do, how else to fight. But Kurosaki’s suddenly stopped cold as two kunai flew through his tent embedding in the center pole right above his head.