Beautiful Dreamer

A/N: Hello, all. It’s been a while, but I finished this a few days ago, and figured I had just as soon post it as not. Enjoy.

Chapter 7: High Anxiety

The mid-afternoon sun was warm on Iruka’s skin as he walked at a leisurely pace. His calm face and poise were flawless, the products of years of study and dealing with children. However, he did not see the many people on the street. His anxiety was rising to an all-time high…all because he had done someone a favor. Iruka made a mental note to himself never to do Genma a favor again. But then again, he supposed it was what he got for not minding his own business…This was just not his week. For all he knew, this was all some grand conspiracy perpetrated to make him go slowly insane. Well, if that was the case, at least he was headed to the right place. He turned onto a side street, and walked beneath freshly cleaned awnings to a larger building than most of the rest.

The Yamanaka family had been in the flower business for generations, and the three current generations of that family all resided above the shop and in front of the greenhouse. When he pushed his way into the place, he found the youngest of the family minding the store. Ino brightened the instant she saw him. She set down her book, and smiled at him kindly. “How can I help you, Iruka-sensei?”

The girl’s smile was so sweet, so innocent…he almost turned around and walked right back out of the door. Did he really want her poking around in his head and finding all of the things he knew were in there? Because the instant she went into his head, that innocent girl would be a lot less innocent, and her image of him—the shining paragon of morality—would be completely shattered. Because Iruka was anything but that paragon…Genma’s accusation in the missions office hit closer to home than Iruka would have liked to admit. It was even closer than Genma knew. Did he want Ino to see his memories? It was difficult to want someone who was so innocent to have potential mental scarring because of something he might ask of her…Then he thought of what might happen if he did not let her perform the task he required, and anger started bubbling up inside him.

Not knowing was worse. Forewarned was forearmed, as they always say, and he wanted to know just who he should be armed against. So, he took a deep breath. “Ino, I need to ask a favor of you.”

--

Yamanaka Ino was a smart girl. She had a good head on her shoulders, and was pretty good with gauging people. That’s why, when Umino Iruka walked into the shop, asking her for a favor, she knew that something was really wrong. His shoulders were tense, and he didn’t seem to mean the smile he had on. She agreed, though, because this was Iruka-sensei, and she owed him a lot since he taught her so much.

“Sure, Iruka-sensei. What do you need?”

He looked away for a moment, studying a potted lily. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk here. Is there somewhere more private?” Now that had her gossip-radar blaring that something big was going down, but what could Iruka possibly need to speak with her in private for? Ino’s curiosity would not let her say no. She stood, went round the counter, and pressed the switch that would automatically lock the door to the shop.

“Follow me,” she said, and went to the door that would take them into the back storage room, where all of the pots and supplies were kept. Sitting on a stack of bagged chemical fertilizer, Ino fixed him with a penetrating gaze. “What’s the matter, Iruka-sensei?”

The teacher tugged at the front of his vest. “I…” His face was starting to turn red. Ino was starting to get the feeling that this would turn up some very juicy gossip. “I think someone has suppressed my memory.” She gave a little start, completely incredulous. Why would anyone want to do that? When she asked, he said, “I am helping with an investigation, and if I’m correct, the person behind some rather nasty occurrences has messed with my memories. I need you to dig them out for me.” Investigation? Blocked memories? This all was sounding like some kind of mystery novel. Slowly, Ino nodded.

“I’ll help you, Iruka-sensei.”

His face fell into an expression of complete gratitude. “Thank you so much, Ino-chan…”

Ino settled herself on the floor, her back to the fertilizer, instructing Iruka to do the same, and lean against the wall. That would ensure that they wouldn’t fall over once she possessed his mind. “Okay, Iruka-sensei…just hold still.” Her hands rose, forming a circle with her fingers. It wasn’t necessary for the technique, but it helped her to aim. Later on, perhaps she would not need to use her hands as a targeting mechanism, but for now, she did. “Shintenshin no justsu…”

--

The small room was dimly lit, and Nara Shikakku stood over him, looking down and smiling. “My, but aren’t we feisty?” Iruka struggled against the shadows holding him bound in the chair, but he could not even make his fingers wiggle. The man turned away when a knock sounded, and opened a door. “Please come in, Namiashi-san…” The large form of Namiashi Raido hesitantly entered the room. He was dressed for the party Iruka had been to, but did not seem as if he had been enjoying himself. “Thank you, Namiashi…now. I will need you to hold him when I release my jutsu. He will certainly not keep still while I administer his medicines…”

Raido walked around to the back of his chair, and held his shoulders with large hands. When the jutsu was released, Iruka immediately growled, “You son of a bitch, Nara…what is the meaning of this?” The older man merely smiled, and picked up two small glass syringes. Grabbing a handful of Iruka’s hair, he wrenched the teacher’s head to one side, exposing his throat, and also causing the large veins in his neck to stand out beneath his skin. Struggling against Raido’s hands, his nails clawed at the man’s forearms, but it was too late. The sting of the first needle penetrating his skin was followed by pressure as some drug was injected into him, and then quickly by another needle, and more drugs.

His vision blurred for a moment before clearing, “Keep him busy for a while, Namiashi.” He heard Shikakku speak before the door closed, and by the time he could see clearly again, he found that the bastard was no longer in the room. Instead, Iruka turned his wrath on Raido.

Finally regaining some amount of sense, he shoved his hands between his neck and those large hands forcing his arms open and throwing off his captor. Jumping to his feet, he snarled, “And you…what is your part in all this?”

Raido shrugged. “I’m just the bored assistant. I picked Genma as a subject, because he lives alone, and was not involved with anyone.” Iruka gave a grunt, and threw himself at Raido, hands and feet flying in a flurry of kicks and punches that the Jounin, for all of his skill, was hard-pressed to avoid. The fight, now joined by Raido, ranged all around the room, leaving the furniture in splinters on the floor, and several kunai embedded in the walls. Raido made for the door, wrenching it open and escaping into the night, but Iruka gave chase, following hard on the man’s heels. He must loose his vengeance on someone, and Raido was as likely a target as any.

--

Namiashi Raido sat in his apartment, wondering how he should proceed. He was no longer participating in Shikakku’s insane experiment, so he would hopefully avoid some of the backlash from the Hokage and Iruka, though he was not holding his breath on that one. Once it came out that he was involved at all, he would probably be brought up on charges, right along with Shikakku. And after that, there would be D-ranked missions for about a year and a half…not to mention what Iruka would think of him.

He suddenly wished that he had not even considered the older man’s proposal. And the reason he had agreed to it was so stupid! It had been because he was bored. The bastard had assured him that nothing bad would happen, that it was just a discreet way to test a drug without having to go through official channels that could take up to a year. Of course, he had thought it was odd, some of the things he had been required to do, but he didn’t really question.

But after last night…no, he wouldn’t think about that. Once he had gotten back from his visit with Shikakku, he had started thinking. Raido had become convinced that he should avoid Iruka like the plague, because the man was sure to remember everything. It wasn’t that Raido had done anything bad to him. Not really. But would he still want to see him once he remembered what happened before the drugs had taken effect? Shaking his head, he berated himself. Iruka would want absolutely nothing to do with him. He might even try to hurt him. This, he thought was a very sorry state of affairs.

And all because he had been bored.

The sun was setting outside, and orange light came in through the windows. Standing up, he went to the kitchen to make something for dinner. He was not going to Iruka’s place. No, Raido had decided that he would give the teacher a wide berth. There was little he could do about what would happen when the man discovered his connection to the events that led Iruka to sleeping with a man he barely knew.

He had just gotten the refrigerator open when a knock came at the door. Frowning, he closed it, and went to answer the insistent rapping. By the time he got to the door, the quiet knock had become a relentless pounding, nearly shaking the door in its frame. “Keep your pants on!” He yelled, and threw the deadbolt before pulling the chain and yanking the door open. “What the hell is your pro—“

His eyes widened when he saw Iruka standing there, looking mildly back at him, fist still raised. There was something all too calm in the man’s demeanor, in the way he gracefully moved past him into the living room. Then, Iruka reached around him and pushed the door closed. Raido could feel the shorter man’s presence behind him, growing closer until he felt body heat against his back. Biting his lip, he turned around, backing slightly away.

“Raido.” Iruka said his name in a way that sent a shiver through his spine, and took a step closer to him. He found himself being pushed hard against the door, Iruka’s body pressed against his and lips hovering over his mouth. A teasing voice said, “You’ve been a very bad boy, Raido.” That’s when he felt it: the sharp point of a kunai at his neck. His eyes widened. He had not even noticed when Iruka drew the weapon. “I would have expected as much from Nara…but I thought better of you.”

Raido closed his eyes. “Go ahead.” When Iruka did not move, he reached up, taking hold of the hand that pressed the blade to his throat, pushing until a bead of warm blood began rolling down his skin. “I deserve it, don’t I?”

There was a long silence, broken only by the harsh breathing that was so very close to his face, coming from lips that he had claimed not long ago. Iruka’s hand began trembling in his, and his body suddenly slumped forward. The kunai slid from his fingers, and rattled across the hard wood flooring. Raido opened his eyes, and found Iruka with his face buried in the front of his shirt. He was crying. As if by instinct, Raido’s arms wrapped around the smaller man, stroking his back. “Shhh…it’s okay, baby…” Iruka only cried harder.

“Why?” he asked miserably, pressing his face into Raido’s chest, soaking the dark cotton with his tears. The larger man could not answer that. He just held Iruka until his sobs stopped. “Were you just…just keeping me busy, like he said?” Raido’s chest constricted. He had remembered. Somehow, Iruka remembered everything. Why was he not beating the shit out of him, rather than collapsing into a crying mess that Raido wanted nothing more than to comfort?

“I…” he began, but then stopped. It was no use to try lying anymore. “It only started that way.” Thinking back to the previous night, he remembered how he was told to keep the teacher occupied until the memory-suppression drugs really took effect. Iruka had been livid. He had put up a monstrous fight, his movements fluid from years of teaching them to students who must be shown the correct way of doing things. In the end, he had been forced to trap Iruka in a blind alley. Cornered, the smaller man became more erratic out of panic, and Raido caught him in a mistake. He’d pressed Iruka against a wall, watching the anger blazing in those dark eyes, making them somehow even more beautiful.

Panting, chest heaving, the young teacher’s heartbeat was thundering so hard that Raido could feel it against his chest. He’d grasped both of Iruka’s wrists when a kunai nearly embedded itself in his shoulder. When he had stunned the hand holding the weapon, Raido had pinned Iruka’s hands down on either side of his head, staring into eyes that smoldered with anger. Why did it make them so irresistible?

And he had kissed him. Iruka had stiffened, as if he had turned into an oak tree. Then he’d delivered a vicious bite to Raido’s bottom lip. It hadn’t broken the skin, but the only reason it didn’t was because he’d knocked the wind out of the smaller man by sucker-punching him in the stomach. Then, he’d made his biggest mistake. Raido had used a sleeping jutsu. The second it took effect, the smaller man was impossible to put off. Iruka had dragged him bodily to his apartment. He had tried tying the young teacher up to a chair, but he got out of the restraints. Excuses and stammering did nothing, only resulting in his shirt being ripped down the front. Finally, unable to resist Iruka any longer, and the way his body seemed to burn with the need for the smaller man to touch him, Raido had given in. He had removed the rest of their clothes, tossed them around without care as to where they ended up, slammed Iruka’s bedroom door, and thrown the smaller man onto the bed…

The memory of what had happened after that made him want Iruka…right now. And since he was being truthful, he tilted the younger man’s chin upward, using his other hand to dry the tears that stained that beautiful face. “I just wish it had not taken this shit to make me see you…” Raido placed a small kiss on Iruka’s lips. “I’m sorry, Iruka…”

Iruka’s eyes softened, and he suddenly took Raido’s face in his hands, kissing him thoroughly, surprising the larger man by pressing himself hard against him. Biting lightly at Raido’s mouth between kisses that set the Jounin on fire, Iruka growled, “I still haven’t forgiven you…” His hands were yanking Raido’s shirt from his pants, and then started sliding over the skin beneath in a way that made him moan into Iruka’s mouth. “…but…” Iruka’s leg rose, wrapping around one of his, pushing his still-hardening erection into a similar bulge beginning to form in Raido’s pants. “…I could try…if you treat me nice…”

“Ah…” Raido groaned as Iruka nibbled at his neck, just to one side of his Adam’s apple. His large hands sought purchase in Iruka’s hair, only to be deflected by that pesky rubber band he wore. Ripping it out, he felt the mass of silky smooth stuff fall over his hands, inviting and strangely sensual to the touch. Remembering the way the smaller man had behaved the previous evening; he was surprised by the gentle nature of his attentions. Iruka had, in the end, allowed him to take a dominant role, but only after he had tortured Raido’s body nearly until it drove his mind mad.

He had been rough, demanding, and insatiable. But this version of Iruka, this sensitive, insistent—yet strangely diffident—and gentle person made Raido feel as if he were truly needed. This was something he had never before experienced, no matter how many lovers he had taken. He ran his fingers through Iruka’s hair when the younger man ceased in the gentle torture of his neck in favor of nosing into the dark fabric of Raido’s shirt. “I’ll treat you good, baby…I promise.” Iruka made a noise of contentment, and lazily ran his fingers up and down the skin over Raido’s ribs. Placing a tender kiss on the top of Iruka’s head, he said, “How about we do this thing right? Take it slow?”

The look in Iruka’s eyes when he lifted his face was so beautiful that it almost hurt to see it. “Okay,” he said quietly. They slowly disentangled themselves from each other, and Raido moved back toward the kitchen, only to be caught by a slender hand and turned around. Iruka’s lips were on his in an instant, gently caressing his mouth, his tongue sliding out to lick at the seam of Raido’s lips. “Not too slow, I hope,” the teacher’s voice came out in a throaty whisper, hands gliding lightly over the fabric of his shirt and down, until they slid into the front pockets of his pants. Teasing fingers curled and slid, brushing over the sides of the erection he was trying to ignore. “Because I’m not used to anything but fast…”

Raido sealed his mouth over Iruka’s, unable to stand the way the skin of his lips needed that contact, and how he wanted to taste every bit of Iruka that he could. He pushed his way into the younger man’s mouth, demanding and receiving entrance in the same instant. The taste was the same…sweet like warm honey. Iruka’s head tilted back, and he made an enticing sound that was somewhere between a moan and a whimper, his hands now out of Raido’s pockets and clutching at the cloth of the shirt at his waist. Finally, gaining the strength to push away from the tempting mouth he wanted to devour, Raido panted, stilling the small hands that were now trying to unfasten his pants. “There’s plenty time for that later, Iruka.”

The teacher made a very pouting face, then extricated himself from Raido. As he entered the kitchen to prepare a quick meal for the two of them, Iruka half-whined, “So you’re going to leave me like this?” When he looked over his shoulder, he saw how flushed the younger man was, and how tight his pants were. Raido shook his head.

“I never said that, did I?” One of Iruka’s slender eyebrows rose when he said this, and the corner of Raido’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “I said ‘slow’ not ‘stop’. If you’ll be patient, then I’ll do something nice for you in a little while.” The smile that slid over Iruka’s lips was positively evil, and Raido gave a little one of his own.

--

Shizune huffed, gripping the railing. Why did Genma have to live on the sixth floor? And, for that matter, why had she not just walked up the building, rather than using so much effort to trudge up the stairs? It was not that she was out of shape. It was simply that since that horrible incident with Genma, the Hokage had been working, almost non-stop, and with such a cheerful disposition that she had nearly forced the woman to undergo psychiatric evaluation. To put it lightly, Shizune was exhausted.

Once she caught her breath, she made her way down the short hallway to her patient’s door. Taped onto the thick wooden partition was a small piece of paper. It looked as if it had been ripped out of a notebook, and was covered in Hatake Kakashi’s absolutely horrid handwriting.

To Whom It May Concern:

Kakashi and Genma are at Iruka’s apartment.

Hatake Kakashi

Now, Shizune considered herself a patient, even-tempered woman. But after she deciphered this little note, she gave a screech of frustration and very nearly buried her fist in the plasterwork to the right of Genma’s door. “When I get my hands on Genma…” She did not finish her sentence, but instead strode to the hallway window and jumped out. Her anger, it seemed, had given her the extra energy it would take to beat the living daylights out of Genma when she found him. Maybe Kakashi, too. And luckily, Iruka’s apartment was not too far from hers, so when she was finished, Shizune could just walk a block and a half and collapse into bed.

--

Kakashi lounged on the couch, watching Genma. The afternoon was warm; the sun and fresh air both streamed into the windows. For the silvery-haired Jounin, it was a perfect day for lazing about and pretending to read. While he appeared to have his nose stuck in one of his favorite orange paperbacks, he was instead closely observing the way the sun glinted off of the sweat that had formed a slight sheen over Genma’s skin.

The Special Jounin had stripped to the waist, wearing only a loose pair of dark green lounge pants. Genma was now performing a seemingly endless set of kata. He had been at this exercise for close to two hours, and Kakashi had not seen the man repeat one form. It was slightly strange, seeing such fluidity and grace in someone that usually seemed as lazy as he did, himself. But Kakashi was well aware that appearances were deceiving. He himself was a perfect example of that old cliché. Not that he was going to go advertising the fact that he didn’t mind a little work…he did like his lazy time.

Smiling slightly behind his mask, he turned a page, unaware of what was going on in the text. His favorite thing about watching Genma at the moment was the fact that he had pulled his hair back into a short ponytail, and the skin of his neck was bared. And since it was readily visible, it was easy to see the love bites with which he had decorated that lovely, tanned skin.

Finally, it seemed that the kata series had come to an end. Genma’s feet were close together, and he had dropped his arms to his sides. His head turned to the right. “Enjoy the show?” he asked, eyeing Kakashi amusedly as he bent to pick up a towel.

Nodding enthusiastically, he replied, “Sure. Who wouldn’t enjoy watching you get all sweaty?” Genma patted at his face with the towel, rolling his eyes. His tone sobered slightly, and he set down his book. “I didn’t know that you knew so many forms.” Genma just shrugged. Then, a thought occurred to the seated man. “Hey…where do you think Iruka is?”

A snort from behind the towel preceded Genma’s reply, “Probably banging Namiashi.”

Suddenly, and almost painfully, Kakashi’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

Hazel eyes peeked out from behind the fluffy white terrycloth of the towel, followed shortly by a very devious smile. “This morning, I hobbled into the kitchen, and Iruka was kissing Namiashi Raido. It was gross.” Kakashi blinked, surprised. That was not something he would have guessed. In fact, he’d thought that Iruka would prefer someone taller. Slender…more like himself. He nearly snorted at that thought. Of course he’d known for some time that the younger man had the hots for him. But that would only have ended badly. Honestly, he could say that there was really only one man that he had any interest in whatsoever, and that man was currently slinging that white towel around his neck and looking at him with a decidedly curious expression.

“Where do you go when you zone out like that?” Genma asked suddenly, knocking Kakashi’s usual impeccable balance surprisingly off-kilter. The shirtless man seated himself on the arm of Iruka’s couch, facing him, and with his feet on the cushions to Kakashi’s right. He had fixed those intense almost-green-but-not-quite eyes onto the usually opaque Copy Nin, making him feel as transparent as glass. Like he could see every thought that went through his head, in spite of the question he’d just asked.

Kakashi took a deep breath, the silver-haired man answered truthfully, “Different places…like how I thought that Iruka would prefer someone a bit taller.” Genma raised one eyebrow, a rather amused smile playing at full lips. “And other more pleasant destinations.”

Snorting, Genma stood up and used the towel to smack the side of Kakashi’s head on his way to the bathroom. “Pervert,” he muttered, making his way slowly down the hall. Sighing slightly, the still-seated Jounin followed the sinuous progress of his lover’s path over the polished maple wood flooring. The soft, yellowish light from the incandescent fixture on the ceiling flooded over the skin of Genma’s shoulders and back, and Kakashi thought it was beautiful. As he reached for the doorknob, however, tanned fingers froze halfway there.

The instant Genma turned back toward the living room, Kakashi knew something was wrong. When the smaller man launched himself at him, he was surprised to say the least. But what took the cake was when he tumbled to the floor, nearly flattening the coffee table in the process. “Genma, what the—“ But he saw the dark-haired man staring at the couch back, and he followed that gaze, to find five very familiar-looking darts embedded a full three centimeters into the leather upholstery…and one sad-looking skewered copy of Icha Icha Tactics. Eyes narrowing, Sharingan spinning in irritation, Kakashi pushed himself off of the floor.

Turning to see the culprit standing on a branch outside Iruka’s window, an absolutely vicious grin on her face. Livid, Kakashi crooked a finger at the woman, then pointed at a spot to the right of the coffee table. His tone was edged in acid steel, “In. Now.” She made the jump through the large window easily, and landed as gracefully as he’d seen her do so many times. “Explain.” For a moment, Shizune only stared at him blankly. He reached behind him as Genma stood up, pulling the dart and Icha Icha Tactics, volume two from where they had been pinned to the couch back. Prying the dart from his book, he dangled the projectile in front of her face. “Explain, Shizune, before I decide to return this in a very painful way.”

A firm hand planted itself in the middle of his chest, pushing gently. Genma was standing there, a look of concern painting his usually placid face. “Hold on, now, Kakashi. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for attacking us, and ruining Iruka’s couch.” He then looked at the medic-nin, and with all the seriousness one might expect in a lecture from Morino Ibiki, said, “He’s going to want you to pay for that.” The woman’s mouth fell open in shock. Didn’t think that out too well, did you? Kakashi thought with not a little satisfaction.

Huffing, Shizune declined to answer, but snatched her air-dart back from him, and proceeded to pull the rest of them out of the couch. She then set about using her chakra to probe Genma’s head, and after a moment grunted, “It’s still there.” After such a pronouncement, she looked at both of them in turn. “Stay in one place. If I have to go and hunt you down again, I’ll turn the pressure on my darts to full power.” After making her way to the window again, she gripped the frame, preparing to jump out. As an afterthought, she looked back over her shoulder, and said, “And I won’t miss.” Quickly as she’d come, Shizune was gone, leaving Kakashi mentally reeling.

“Crazy bitch…” he breathed, fingering the puncture wound in his book. Genma shook his head, and moved to close the window. “Just…look at it!” He shook his book in the air when Genma turned around, the poor man was unable to keep from smiling. “It isn’t funny. She speared one of my favorite books, Genma.” A small sigh issued from the shorter man, and he felt a finger slip beneath the fabric that covered his face.

As the mask slid lower, revealing the still stunned look that had taken up residence on his features, Genma smiled. “Do you really need those books?” Hazel eyes glanced at the orange-bound paperback before it was pulled from his grasp. The sound of pages turning caught his attention, and Kakashi blinked when he realized that Genma was skimming over portions of the book. One brown eyebrow rose. “Now that looks interesting.” The man’s finger was pointing at one of the illustrated pages, which Kakashi had examined so many times he knew the lines and curves of the two people by heart. “Why don’t we see if this sort of thing can be done in a shower?”

Kakashi was not given the opportunity to resist, protest, or in any other way object.

--

Iruka snuggled deeper into Raido’s side. The movie was just finishing, and he was quite content. A comfortable couch, a warm body to curl up next to…a perfect afternoon. And dinner had been simple but good. The two of them were currently lounging against one arm of Raido’s dark brown leather sofa, and Iruka was finding that there was little short of a natural disaster that might cause him to move at this point. Every now and again, he would feel Raido nosing into his hair; something that made him almost melt. Almost. It did not quite get that far, because he could also feel the way the other man took the opportunity to stroke the skin exposed when Iruka’s shirt had ridden up on one side.

It was strange, the way his skin seemed to know those calloused fingers. He knew that they were supposed to take things slowly. But for some reason he did not understand, Iruka found his skin pebbling in gooseflesh, the anticipation of what might come overwhelming him. Finally, he took hold of Raido’s hand, stopping the pleasurable sensations. At an inquisitive sound next to his ear, he said, “Things won’t go slowly if you keep doing that.”

“I’m sorry,” Raido said lowly, his breath hot against Iruka’s neck. Somehow, that tone made it clear that he was not sorry at all. Neither did the lips brushing his skin. “But didn’t I say I would do something nice for you, Iruka?”

A groan rumbled from his throat, his back arching in a stretch as his eyes closed. “How nice are you willing to be?” Lips that had been merely teasing at his neck now latched on, teeth nibbling at one of three areas that made Iruka produce some of the most undeniably wanton sounds he was capable of. He moaned, unable to hold it back, powerless to do anything other than let the sound thunder from deep in his chest while his spine began to curl. His fingers released Raido’s, and allowed the man to send them exploring the flesh at his waist.

“I don’t know,” Raido murmured in his ear, “I can be nice enough.” Large fingers flicked open the buttons of Iruka’s fly, “But I need to save my strength, yes?” Flashes of suppressed memory came forward in Iruka’s mind, his heart racing as a warm hand entered his underwear. An affirmative noise escaped him before he was aware of what he was saying, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was true. If the things Ino had helped him to remember were true, then the man that now touched him would need every bit of his stamina. His hands clawed at the couch cushions, at the rough fabric of Raido’s standard-issue Jounin pants, and his entire body began to tense up, readying itself for release. All he could think was, not yet…

The larger man’s voice was in his ear again, whispering, “Relax, baby. Just relax…let it happen…don’t fight it, Iruka.” As if his body instinctively knew which orders to follow, and which to disobey, his arms immediately stopped their desperate movement, shoulders dropping low and back slumping back until all he could do was lean his head back against Raido’s chest, whimpering at the feeling of the man’s hands on him, wringing pleasure from his body in ways he had not known existed.

Finally, his body tensed in an abrupt arching motion, a loud cry escaping his throat as his release soiled the front of his shirt. For once, Iruka did not care that he’d just made a mess of himself. He blinked rapidly, trying not to fall asleep as he nearly always did, but it was all in vain. As he sunk into a slumber that would be anything but restful, he wondered if he would be as physically uncomfortable the next morning as he had been on this one. Not that he really minded too very much anymore…