Fanning the Flames

Chapter Eight

Kakashi woke suddenly in the middle of the night, heart racing as he struggled to make sense of his dream. “Ibiki wake up.” he demanded, shaking the interrogator until he cracked open an eye and peered at him in confusion.

“What's the matter sweetheart?” the tall man croaked, “Is it your stomach again?”

“I had a nightmare . . . Itachi was in trouble, I think he needs me.” the copy-nin whispered, “I don't think it was just a dream . . . I need to go to Oto and help him.”

“You can't.” the scarred man declared, “I don't want you confronting Kisame on your own.”

“I'm not afraid of him.” the jounin scoffed, “I can take care of myself. Besides, he won't hurt me, if that was his intention he'd have done it already.”

“Still, I won't let you go.” Ibiki decided, “I can't take the risk.”

“You're my husband, not my jailer.” Kakashi pointed out, “You can't stop me, I'll be back in a couple of days, I promise.” The copy-nin jumped out of bed and began to dress, swaying slightly when a wave of nausea pulsed through him.

“See what I mean?” the interrogator argued, “You're obviously still sick. I'm sure Itachi's fine, illness makes us dream strange things . . . why don't you send 'dachi with a scroll in the morning?”

“No.” the silver-haired man insisted stubbornly, “Don't belittle my instincts, I'm not a child to be mollified by a few words and a pat on the head. I know something's wrong.”

“That doesn't mean you need to be there.” the scarred man shot back, “Uchiha's not a child either, he won't appreciate you treating him like one and checking up on him.”

“You have no idea what he'll appreciate.” the jounin said with a toss of his head, “I'm leaving now, I'll send word when I arrive.” He bent and kissed his husband tenderly, “Don't worry so much, I'm a big boy. I love you and I swear I'll be back soon.” He pressed their lips together again, this time aggressively invading the larger man's mouth, only pulling back when they were both gasping for air.

Kakashi smiled as the interrogator tried to follow him as he retreated, enjoying the needy expression and the heated haze in those usually flat black eyes. “Just you wait . . . when I get back I'm going to fuck you 'til you scream.” the copy-nin husked erotically, “Be ready.” He stepped back and made the hand signs, disappearing in a swirl of leaves, leaving Ibiki staring at the space he'd occupied.

The scarred man's erection pulsed, sending a shiver through his frame and reminding him of his husband's heated promise. Try as he might, the normally controlled torture master couldn't seem to rein in his thoughts, and the harder he tried . . . well, the harder he became. Eventually he gave in, wrapping a massive hand around his erection and squeezing hard in hopes of quenching his mounting lust. Instead the sharp spike of pain only heightened his need.

The interrogator bit his lip and began to slowly stroke his pulsing cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip and letting out a sharp gasp as he pictured plump pink lips wrapped around the bulbous head as a wicked tongue tickled the slit, dipping inside to taste the salty precum. He groaned needily and began to stroke himself in earnest when the images in his head morphed into the hotly possessive look the copy-nin wore whenever he topped, seed spurting over his hand as the remembrance of that stunning face and a passionately muttered 'mine' drove him over the edge.

The copy-nin reappeared in a secluded glade just inside the borders of Fire country and immediately doubled over, once again emptying his stomach as the world reeled hazily around him. Damn flu, he thought crossly as he panted, slumping to the ground in an untidy heap, I'll just rest here for a minute before I make the next jump.

The minute stretched into an hour and Kakashi wondered if he'd end up spending the entire night hunched in the bushes. Finally the roiling sensation in his midsection calmed and he gathered his ki, once again fading silently.

“Why did you let the boss go?” Pakkun grumbled from the corner of the room, fixing Ibiki with a piercing gaze.

“If you know he's gone you must also know I tried to stop him.” the interrogator protested, “He wasn't interested in what I had to say.”

“Well I, for one, am going after him.” the pug decided, “He's in no shape to go anywhere alone.”

“Good luck with that.” the scarred man declared flatly, “He doesn't like being coddled.”

“I'm different.” the ninken insisted, “He won't mind if I tag along.”

“Well then get going.” Ibiki ordered, “Just promise you'll come get me if he's in trouble.”

“If that's what the boss wants.” Pakkun replied reluctantly, “I'm sure between the two of us we can handle anything that comes up.”

“Stop arguing with the boss' mate.” Bull growled angrily, “You need to start showing him more respect tubby or you'll blow it for everyone.”

“Tubby . . . tubby . . . who are you calling tubby?” the pug growled angrily, “I'll have you know I have the perfect conformation for my breed.”

“So you come from a long line of tubby runts.” the massive hound declared menacingly, “That doesn't change the fact that you're asking for trouble if you keep this up.”

Akiko darted across the room and planted herself between Pakkun and the interrogator, a vicious growl rolling out of her chest. “Enough.” the scarred man decided, “If you're going, get out of here. The rest of you settle down.” The pup's ears drooped and she hung her head, pushing into the tall man's outstretched hand with a beseeching whine.

“I'm not mad.” Ibiki assured her, “I just don't want any more tension around here . . . at least, not until 'kashi comes home. Okay?”

Akiko wagged her tail excitedly, letting out a few sharp yips in response. “Anything you say boss' mate.” Bull rumbled as he settled back down in the corner. Pakkun just gave a haughty sniff and disappeared, leaving the interrogator to wonder if letting him go was a good idea.

It took the copy-nin three more jumps to reach Orochimaru's old headquarters, and his disorientation increased with each one, as did the length of time it took him to recover. When he finally landed just outside the gates he collapsed in a heap, too weary to even turn over. He barely managed to turn his head, vomiting a thin stream of bile before slipping into unconsciousness.

Pakkun easily tracked Kakashi's path, growing increasingly agitated when each jump proved the lanky jounin was, indeed, far too ill to be traveling . . . especially alone. When he finally caught up with the silver-haired man he leapt into action. “Boss, boss,” the ninken urged, “you need to get up and go inside.”

“What're you doing here?” the copy-nin finally slurred, cracking open a bloodshot eye to glare at the bristling pug.

“I'm making sure you're alright . . . and it's a damn good thing I did.” the ninken scolded, “What were you thinking? You're clearly too ill to teleport.”

“I wanted to get here quickly.” Kakashi retorted, “I made it, didn't I? Obviously you're overreacting.” The silver-haired man pulled himself to a sitting position before rising to his full height, glowering down at his summon as he sent out a pulse of chakra to let Itachi know he'd arrived.

“What are you doing here?” Kisame rumbled when the gates finally opened, “I thought we'd seen the last of you.”

“Where's 'tachi?” the copy-nin demanded, “I need to speak with him immediately.”

“He's indisposed.” the swordsman hissed, “The last thing he needs right now is you.”

“So you say.” Kakashi pressed, “I still want to see him. If he asks me to leave I'll gladly go.”

“Who's there?” a tremulous voice called as soon as they entered the Otokage's quarters, “What's going on?” The silver-haired jounin pushed past the massive Mist-nin, striding into the room and hurrying over to the bed to take the last Uchiha's hand.

“It's me 'tachi . . . I had a dream that you needed me.” Kakashi explained, “I came as fast as I could.”

“I'm glad you're here senpai.” Itachi murmured, “I've missed you terribly.”

“I've missed you too.” the copy-nin assured him as he pulled the frail form close and tenderly stroked inky locks, “What's going on?”

“Our child is growing well.” the Otokage whispered, “I felt it kick today.”

“How are you doing though?” the silver-haired man pressed, “It's you I've been worried about.”

“The headaches are very bad lately.” Itachi admitted, “I fear it may be a sign.”

“The headaches have been bad before.” Kisame insisted almost angrily, “You've always gotten through them without his help.”

“I don't want to fight with you.” Kakashi declared as he stood toe to toe with the towering swordsman, “I just want to help 'tachi if I can.”

“Come sit with me.” the frail Uchiha whispered, “Tell me about Genma and Iruka's wedding . . . I was so sorry to miss it.”

The copy-nin perched carefully on the edge of the large bed, gently clasping a bony hand as he began to relate all he could remember of the affair. After only a few minutes, however, nausea swept over him yet again, and he had to leap from his seat and rush into the bathroom. “Senpai, what is going on?” the Otokage called worriedly.

“Just a touch of the flu . . . nothing to worry about.” the silver-haired man assured him, “I'll be right as rain in a day or so. Let's concentrate on you, shall we?”

“You shouldn't have come here if you're sick.” Kisame spat, “The last think Itachi needs is to catch whatever you're suffering from.”

“I doubt it's contagious.” the jounin retorted, “Ibiki hasn't caught it, and he's had far closer contact with me than this.”

“Kisame,” the dark-haired man interjected sharply, “leave us . . . there are things I need to speak with senpai about in private.”

With one last glare the swordsman gave a cursory bow and slammed out of the room, leaving the pair alone. “Senpai, I need your promise.” Itachi declared, “You will take the child when it is born.”

“Don't you want to spend some time with hi 'tachi?” Kakashi asked worriedly.

“I would love nothing more.” the Otokage admitted, “But I fear it is not to be.”