Divided Loyalty

A/N: Finally, the new chapter. Writing "Hurt Me" was quite a distraction, but a necessary one. Refreshing of the writing palate, so to speak. XD



Satterb: I miss you very much too ! I hope your moving goes well - I certainly know what a hassle it can be.



Jordash00: "Hurt Me" certainly was inspired by the scene in Divided Loyalty where Kisame spanked Sasuke, but I'd say that it's not necessary part of the Divided Loyalty universe. Or at least, doesn't follow its official (LOL, offical continuity of a fanfic) continuity - while it can certainly take place in that universe, it's more of a "what if?" story. Er... Does this make sense?



CHAPTER 8





Kakashi lied quietly on the bed and watched Nagato sleep, his silken hair spilled on the pillow around his head. The dye had almost washed off by now and he had become a red-head once again. In the darkness, if he didn’t focus on the lack of piercings, he could believe that everything was back as it had once been – that they were back in the tower in Amegakure, safely tucked in their large, soft bed, happy and sated after a bout of passionate lovemaking.



Only they were as far away from Ame as possible, curled up in a dingy, tiny bed with rough, threadbare sheets and Kakashi hadn’t engaged in anything sexual for over eighteen months now. His crooked fingers tenderly combed through the glossy ginger hair and Nagato leaned into his touch, murmuring something in his sleep. He stiffened when the red-head leaned into his touch but forced himself to stay calm. This was Nagato. Nagato wouldn’t hurt him. He kept petting the soft hair and wrapped his other arm around surprisingly thin shoulders. When had his lover lost so much weight?



‘You have been so very preoccupied with your own suffering for the past months that you didn’t even notice. You just let him overwork himself. It was easier than to think about just what he had to do to make ends meet, to take care of you.’



Kakashi closed his eyes and buried his face in Nagato’s hair, breathing in the soft scent of the shampoo he had used when he showered before going to bed. The fingers around his bare shoulders traced a scar that suspiciously reminded him of a bitemark. This was new. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of how he must have got it



‘Helpless, worthless coward.’ He berated himself.



The thought that his loved one was deliberately putting himself in harm’s way, that he allowed random men treat him the way Kakashi had been treated, over and over again, and all for his sake, was absolutely deplorable. For the past eighteen months Kakashi hadn’t worked for a single day, hadn’t brought a single coin in their purse, while Nagato literally prostituted himself to keep them afloat. And all this time, he hadn’t wanted anything in return. He just put up with the abuse without a word, but always had a ready smile and gentle words for Kakashi, no matter how much pain he was in.



The fact that they had had no sex life did bother Kakashi, for many reasons. Most of the time, he was unsure if it was because Nagato was afraid that he would hurt him, if he just no longer found him desirable after what those men did to him, or if he was too hurt and traumatized by the things he did to be interested in engaging in that sort of activity. The last two possibilities were equally worrying and frightening and Kakashi didn’t really know what to do about it. For so long, he had been in too much pain, both mental and physical to have the strength to ask Nagato about it. Now most of the immediate physical pain was gone, even if he was left with a crippled, crooked body which would never again be capable of the feats he had been capable of as a Ninja. The mental anguish remained though, as strong as ever, caused by so many complex reasons – the realization that he would never again be able to run high into the trees, feel the exhilarating freedom it brought, that even small domestic chores took him forever to do, that his lover prostituted himself to make money for his medical treatment, that he couldn’t let go of the memory of what those men had done to him, over and over during the weeks of his captivity.



He felt ashamed from his own inability to stop them, to prevent them from violating him like this, him, the great Copy Nin. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Kakashi looked down at Nagato’s sleeping face again and felt a surge of fierce protectiveness, which made things even worse because he knew that he could no longer protect even himself, let alone another person.



He needed to do something for Nagato, anything, to make himself feel useful and less pathetic, at least in his own eyes. When he tried to ask the innkeeper for a job he got a polite and firm refusal – he was too slow and clumsy to do anything useful around the inn. And, of course, there had been the unspoken but all too clear reason that the man hadn’t wanted someone who looked like Kakashi to frighten away his guests. It made him feel worthless and he had apologized and returned to their little room, staying there for the rest of the day.



His fingers slid down Nagato’s arm to his hand and gently wrapped around it, feeling the rough, callused flesh, which had not been thickened by weapon’s use, but rather the constant hard work in the kitchens.



The need to do something, anything, in order to make his lover feel good, to make himself useful in some, no matter how insignificant, way became almost feverish and finally sublimated into a decision. The abuse he had been through flashed in his mind and he felt nauseated for a moment, but took a few deep, calming breaths.



‘You can do this. This is Nagato. It’s okay to do this for him.”



Kakashi slowly scooted down the bed until his face was level with Nagato’s hips and reached for the drawstring of his pajama pants, for the first time noticing how they hung on his frame, having long become too baggy for him.



‘I have to make him eat more.’ He thought absently as he loosened the string and carefully pulled the garment down along with his underwear, revealing his flaccid length. He took a look and felt a surge of hysterical amusement when he noticed that despite having removed almost all of his piercings, fearing recognition, Nagato had kept the one through the tip of his penis, like some sort of defiant act not to let go completely of his previous identity.



Hesitantly he wrapped his fingers around the soft length, trying to arrange his digits in a way that would make an even, firm tunnel. It was easier said than done, but after a few attempts and using his other hand to pull and push his fingers, he finally succeeded. When he was pleased with his grip, he carefully, tentatively, moved it up and down, feeling the flesh begin to harden immediately.



When he looked up, he noticed that Nagato’s brilliant blue eyes were open and staring down at him, a wondrous expression on his face.



“Love, what are you doing?” he asked, voice hoarse with sleep.



“I want to do this.” Kakashi explained softly. “May I? Please?” he sounded pitiful even to his own ears.



A callused hand wrapped gently around his and Nagato smiled gently down at him.



“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”



“Please…” Kakashi begged softly. “I know that you probably don’t desire me anymore, not after all that has happened, but just for tonight, please…”



“Shhhh.” The hand moved to his face as Nagato propped himself up. “I desire you. Never think that I don’t, okay? I just don’t want to hurt you.”



“You won’t.”



“Okay. Okay then. Do whatever you want, baby. Anything you want.” Nagato encouraged him and leaned back on the lumpy pillows. Kakashi nodded and looked down to the hardened organ again, remembering that he should’ve licked his hand first to provide some lubrication. Awkwardly, he let go and ran his tongue over his palm, then began the process of arranging his fingers again, feeling more and more ashamed by his clumsiness as time went by. Suddenly a gentle hand covered his and helped him and he dared to look up, half expecting to see disapproval and annoyance but meeting only Nagato’s gentle, patient gaze.



“It’s okay. Take as much time as you need.”



He felt pitifully grateful.



There was a pathetic surge of pride too, when the organ in his hand hardened further, now glistening from his saliva and above him Nagato let out a soft, needy moan. This was actually working out, relatively speaking, and he couldn’t help his own eager little smile. He was making lover feel good.



He eyed the reddened, spongy head again and an idea came to mind, an idea he wasn’t sure he could implement but certainly one that would make this an even better experience for his lover.



He bent a little and licked the heated flesh, the taste of him exploding on his tongue…



He was helpless, his broken hands tied behind his back by too tight shackles, forced to kneel on his aching knees on the cold, stone floor, a ruthless hand fisted in his hair as the man above him violated his already torn and bleeding channel again and again.



There was another in front of him, holding his reddened, turgid length before his lips, the stench of him almost suffocating…



“Open your mouth. OPEN IT!”



He refused, clenched his teeth and tried to turn his face awa, despite the hand in his hair but stiffened when he felt a blade pressing at the base of his testicles, eye going wide with fear.



“Open your mouth, whore, or you’ll lose more body parts than just an eye that wasn’t yours to begin with.”



With a whimper of fear he complied and was immediately assaulted from this end, choked, almost suffocated as the second man forced himself in.



“Don’t you dare to bite, slut, or I’ll cut off your balls and shove them down your throat.”



Kakashi closed his eye and whimpered, trying to force the horrible memory away, his grip on Nagato slackening in his remembered fear.



Hands on his face, in his hair, petting and caressing tenderly, gentle, soothing words in his ear as Nagato desperately struggled to bring him out of his flashback.



“Baby, it’s okay, you’re safe now, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you, you’re safe, you’re safe, please open your eye…” the litany of pleas and encouragements continued until he finally opened his eye and glanced up at Nagato’s frantic, terrified face, watching as relief flooded his features.



“Maybe we should stop for the night.” Nagato suggested carefully, but Kakashi shook his head vehemently. He wasn’t going to fail him again, disappoint him again. What those men had done to him didn’t matter, only giving pleasure to Nagato mattered.



“I’m okay.” He said hoarsely. “I want to do this.”



Nagato still looked hesitant. Kakashi leaned and ran his tongue over the heated length, looking up with desperate plea in his eye.



“Please. I want to make you feel good. Please.” He begged.



Nagato’s blue eyes darkened with arousal and he finally nodded, his hand once again tangling in his hair and petting as he leaned and took him in his mouth. Memories flooded him once again and tears sprang to his eye. In a desperate attempt to ward off the flashback he looked up, meeting Nagato’s heated gaze and holding it, anchoring himself to the here and now as much as he could, driven by his need to please him. Nagato’s expression was just he remembered him in the throes of passion, the expressive eyes blazing with pleasure and need, soft lips murmuring encouragements, telling him how well he was doing, how beautiful he was, how much he wanted him, the hand in his hair sliding to his face and petting his cheeks with desperate tenderness.



Someone moaned and he wasn’t sure which one of them did it when his lover finally came, his taste flooding in mouth as he shot his essence again and again into him, then pulled away and gathered him in his arms to kiss him and Kakashi felt proud, proud, proud at what he had just managed to do.



Minato slumped in his chair, his spilled essence cooling and drying on his flat belly as he watched the scene inside the little room, the lovers tangled in a tender embrace, the red-head petting Kakashi’s hair and cooing gently to him. Watching such a private, painful moment between the two had been a very dishonorable thing to do, in a long list of dishonorable things that he had done to Kakashi, and he felt like a complete trash for engaging in it. It wasn’t fair to do this, certainly not here and now, invading on his former student’s privacy like this, but he hadn’t been able to help it.



The blonde laughed bitterly at himself as he watched Nagato hold his former student tenderly in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on his back as Kakashi sagged exhaustedly in the safety of his embrace.



The scene reminded him of his own desires for the young man, desires he had been repressing for so long…



After Obito’s death, Kakashi had been desperate to redeem himself,to his friend, to his surviving teammate and his captain and mentor. He had done everything he could to change, going so far so as to assume Obito’s personality, something which had initially disgusted Minato and later had made him feel deep pity for the boy.



And even as his own attitude towards Kakashi cooled, something he was sure his student was keenly aware of, the boy kept trying to return in his good graces, searching for his support, for his approval and appraisal, things he never really gave to him.



Kakashi didn’t seem to care that his efforts never really bore any fruit, that his Sensei continued being cold and distant while showering Rin with attention, if anything it made him try harder and harder, never giving up. It was a cruel, horrible thing for Minato to do but he was only human, and he hadn’t been able to defy his own flawed human nature and give Kakashi the fatherly affection that the boy had so desperately needed.



And later, years later, things changed again, much to Minato’s horror. Kakashi grew and the boy became a young man, even if his painful attachment to his teacher didn’t change. Only the way Minato viewed him changed, even if he never told a soul and certainly not Kakashi.



It was shortly after his sixteenth birthday when it had taken something as simple, as clichéd and trivial as going to the river to wash after a harsh training session, for Minato to realize just how desirable Kakashi had become.



He had watched him divest himself from his sweaty clothes, leaving them to lie in the grass unfolded but carefully putting his weapons in order at the base of a tree before heading towards the water. The sun was slowly setting and the golden light played over the smooth expanse of the creamy, almost unmarked skin. He had watched with hooded eyes as Kakashi slowly waded through the shallow water until it reached his thighs and then began to splash it against his chest, face, shoulders which glistened under the soft light. He had grown into such a fine young man, lightly muscled, wiry, with long, lean legs and strong arms. Minato’s blue eyes followed the water drops on Kakashi’s back as they slid down to his perfectly formed bottom and was hit with the startling realization that he wanted to drag Kakashi out of the water, bend him over the nearest fallen tree and bury his cock in that firm ass.



Weeks later he wondered if it had been some sort of deliberate ploy on Kakashi’s part to try and seduce him, because he finally noticed that that the way he looked at him had changed – it was no longer a boy looking for a mentor, but a young man looking for a lover.



He was sure that it had been innocent though, this need that his student had for him, even if it had been sexual. He knew him well-enough to be sure that he was untouched yet, because Kakashi spent his entire time following him, doing whatever Minato told him to do, barely socializing with people other than Rin and his teacher. Frankly, he was sure that Kakashi himself wasn’t entirely aware of the nature of the things he wanted from his Sensei.



Unlike Kakashi, however, Minato knew all too well what he wanted from his student, he knew it in great, obscene detail and these fantasies assaulted him every time he was in his presence to the point of distraction.



It made him angry, that Kakashi would affect him so, just when he had been ready to put what happened with Obito behind them, to begin repair the bond he had shared with Kakashi. And instead, he found himself lusting after him like a dirty old man.



A dirty old man who was very much married, even if he had done so to please the Clan Leaders who demanded that he produce an heir. Kushina was a nice young woman and marrying her was a good political move, even if they both knew that he held no desire for her. Still, they had become friends and performing his spousal duty and conceiving said heir hadn’t been that much of a chore. He hadn’t touched her ever since and they both seemed happier about it.



Even if his wife wasn’t the jealous type, he knew that he could no longer sleep around the way he had before, could no longer spend time publicly with his lovers lest he caused a scandal, especially during the time of her pregnancy. And to take Kakashi of all people, his own student, as a lover, that would cause a scandal not just in Konoha, but in the other hidden villages as well.



Minato knew very well how gossip could affect people, let alone public figures and leaders like himself, and he had had no desire to become the next target of the rumour mill. So he tried to suppress how he felt about the young man, tried to ignore his own desires and needs. “Tried” was the operative word, because Kakashi didn’t make the task easy at all. The change in his behaviour towards Minato was subtle, but it was definitely there – in the way he spoke to him, looked at him, reacted to his orders. Perhaps these things would have only been visible to people who knew Kakashi well – and there weren’t many people like them – but Minato had grown paranoid, and angry – both at himself, for being unable to master his lust, and at Kakashi, who deliberately stoked it further.



And in the end, he tried to put a stop to it.



“Kakashi. Come in.” he said and beckoned the young man to step into his office. “Close the door after yourself. Sit down.” He pointed the highbacked chair before his desk. Kakashi obeyed quietly and sat down, looking at his Sensei and waiting for whatever he had to say.



“This has to stop, Kakashi.” Minato informed him quietly.



“What, Sensei?” the young man said, looking slightly alarmed and uncertain.



“These constant, pathetic attempts of seduction of yours!” he exclaimed, blue eyes flashing in anger. Kakashi flinched in his chair.



“I don’t… I don’t understand what you are talking about, Sensei…” he said, voice barely audible, expression clearly upset.



“You don’t? Kakashi, do you take me for a blind fool?” he growled and pointed him. “I see the way you look at me, the way you touch me when you shouldn’t, the way you speak to me… And it has to stop. I am your teacher, your Hokage, and most of all, I happen to have a wife pregnant with my child. Your behaviour embarrasses me in front of my peers and frankly, I find it disrespectful. Do you understand?”



Kakashi practically curled on his chair at those words, looking lost and deeply hurt and in that moment Minato realized that whatever Kakashi had done, it hadn’t been a conscious, or for that matter, an unconscious act of seduction but innocent if terribly inexperienced attempt to win the love and the favour of the one person in his life whose affection he craved more than anything. And if there had been a sexual subtext in it, it was only because Kakashi had grown and his closed off way of life focused his sexual needs on said person. And in his anger at Kakashi, born at his own failings, Minato had misinterpreted his behaviour and had hurt him deeply with his callous rejection.



He regretted his words immediately after he spoke them and opened his mouth to apologize, to try and salvage the situation, but Kakashi wouldn’t let him. He got up from his chair, bowed stiffly and said, tone distant and cold and formal, a tool reporting to its master:



“I understand, Hokage-sama. I apologize for my behaviour. I assure you that I will no longer be a source of embarrassment to you.”



After another stiff, formal bow, the young man left his office without turning back.



Minato didn’t see him again after that day, because the Jounin managed to avoid him like the plague. It was only scant two weeks later when the Kyuubi attacked.



With a sigh Minato wiped himself clean and tucked himself back in his pants, then got up from the chair and moved to the bedroom to try and get some much needed but very elusive sleep.



He had fought Kyuubi with regret in his heart, regret that he had to inflict such a curse on his infant son and regret that he would never be able to tell Kakashi how sorry he was for his mistakes, for the way he had treated him, both after Obito died and that day in his office.



And now, it seemed, fate had given him a second chance, another opportunity to make things right and he was determined not to let this chance slip through his fingers.



In the next morning Nagato went down the stairs, feeling elated and happy for a change. Despite the worrying flashback Kakashi had experienced, the fact that he had initiated something between them, even if it hadn’t aroused him – and Nagato could clearly see that – made him feel moderately optimistic about their future. He had a decent job, they had a roof over their heads, Kakashi’s physical condition was slowly improving and there were signs that his mental condition might improve a little too, so, yes, he felt happy.



He saw the innkeeper sitting by the counter cleaning the polished wood with a towel and smiled at him.



“Good morning, Masayoshi-san!” he greeted.



Masayoshi nodded to him, but his expression, usually open and cheerful, remained grim.



“Nagato-kun. Come over here if you please.” He beckoned him and Nagato approached the counter, his previous good spirits dissipating.



“Masayoshi-san?”



“I have been wondering how to say this to you ever since last night.” He began, his fingers twisting the towel in anxiety.



“Tell me what, Masayoshi-san?” he asked apprehensively.



“I got a letter from my daughter last evening. Came in with one of the boats that still goes to and from the islands closest to us. The last storm wrecked her house and she’ll come to live here with my grandson until the storm season passes and she can go back to try and rebuild.”



“I didn’t realize that there were still boats that travelled in this weather…”



“Only when they’re sure that they’d be safe and only between the islands. We have no contact with the mainland, it’s too far away.”



“I understand.” Nagato eyed him questioningly. “What I don’t understand is what does your daughter’s visit has to do with me.” He said.



Masayoshi looked at the counter, sighed and rubbed his face.



“I know that you and your friend are running from something. Hunter nins, I’d wager?”



Nagato didn’t respond.



“I cannot put my daughter and grandson in that kind of danger.” He finally told him.



Panic flooded his system and Nagato felt his knees going weak.



“You’re throwing us out.” He stated, unable to contain the trembling in his voice.



“If I had any other choice I wouldn’t!” the elderly man insisted.



“Any other choice?! You said it yourself, you have no contact with the mainland! There will be no new ships coming from there still for months to come!”



“Most of you people can walk on water!” Masayoshi insisted pleadingly. “I cannot take that chance, no matter how small it is. She is my child. I have already lost her brother. Please, try to understand.”



Nagato took a step back.



“I understand. Believe me, I do. We’ll leave before nightfall.”