Found You

A/N: I wanted to put the smut in this chapter. I really did. But I figured that it would be a bit lame to pass an entire month by in just one chapter, so it’s split up.

Bento box = Japanese lunch box.

Lemon: Yes. GOD YES. Fore(skin)play is love.
Pairings: Sasuke x Neji, Kakashi x Sasuke, a tiny bit of Sasuke/Sasuke / Orochi/Sasuke
Spoilers: Kind of. A lot of this will be speculation and technical talk, especially in the next chapter. The rest will be smut. And Gai.

Disclaimer: Any similarities between Sasuke and Neji are strictly intentional and should not be duplicated without equal or greater smuttiness or you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the fanbase. We respect that Kishimoto-sensei has no legal intent or capacity to express his views, and it is up to this fiction to accurately portray his characters as well as convey their wonderful, lusty attraction.

Throw some fire on the fuckfurnace! We’re having a sexy-Q!
~@~*~@~*~@~*~@~*~@~*~@~*~
Know Thy Enemy ; Know Thyself
Part One: Submission

Those expressions were still vivid in his mind. Clear and wonderful and he had memorized them. Every time eyebrows knotted and shifted the hitai-ate on his sweated brow when he would drag the flat of his tongue along the pronounced vein running his shaft. Or when coal eyes that watched him evenly and distantly focused in and returned him to the world that was around him when he sooner saw than felt teeth and tongue manipulating his skin and unsheathed him.

Eyes were intent and burning on him, and he did not need his Byakugan to know they were there when his own milky eyes were level to that. Didn’t need them to decipher every wordless twitch and shiver and clack of teeth behind those smug lips. The fist in his hair made to force him lower, muscles in his neck unyielding and resulting in a fierce yank of displeasure, the Uchiha left with little option but to let him roam wet on his hood with suckles from pursed lips that rattled his nerves.

Even his cock was arrogant, proud and upright and not ashamed to twitch against his cheek at a hot exhale down to his sac. If he wanted to, he could force that throat down on his head and make everything alright. Make the whole of his mouth ache with rigid thrusts and make tissue raw for days just to gain relief.

And he did. One yank and Neji surrendered his mouth to the long drag of flesh along his tongue, down that way and the wet of his muscle kneading his underside and pressing heated boyhood against the roof of his mouth.

A satisfied groan from above, encouraging him. The only noise he had heard thus far aside low breathing, and it had frustrated him. That his mouth wasn’t good enough to make such a defiant boy submit to him. He wasn’t the one lacking control here. Not at all. At any second his jaw could tighten and there would be a bloody, foul mess and so much screaming and the end of a bloodline.

But he didn’t.

He let the hood catch on the back of his cavern, swallowing against it and releasing confident little noises against the sensitive organ every time that damnable Uchiha would try to pull away. He would follow him, a length not unmanageable, and with little work he could release a triumphant huff through his nose against fine little hairs.

It was a mutual understanding that the Hyuuga wasn’t allowed to touch him but with his mouth, and he didn’t mind the silly little order if it meant he could have the opportunity to make the boy wail. He was just a boy. A boy that didn’t know anything, not even how to contain himself.

That’s why he was squirming in his seat, backside rushed so far in to it there was no room left to squirm and his legs trembled with the acid burning through them, contained excitement. At least, Neji wanted to believe it was there. When opal eyes could spare a glance, there wasn’t any sweat on his heart-shaped face, only the menacing, distant and powerful pair of black eyes that had turned their beautiful and heated red.

That’s how unstable he was. He had an indication now, watching poison flames lap at the left side of his face and creep along his cheek. In to the arm that kept an iron grip on his hair and pulled his head away entirely, Sasuke unable to free himself any other way from the mouth that suctioned in place and made him grunt, struggling to get the sensation away from his trembling cock.

Control slipped away from him then, knuckles at his nape threatening to tear away healthy ropes of hair the ruthless pull to crane his head, stressing his jaw to yield and grudgingly part fucked lips.

Neji’s eyes clamped when smoldering goo splattered his cheek and stuck in his lashes. Streaks of hair became stuck to his cheek as the liquid cooled, affording one translucent lilac eye peeled open to chance staring at his victim.

Sharingan stared back at him without a word, and hardly an effort in his exhale, and then he gave a mighty shove against the Hyuuga’s scalp to send him away, keeping only a few released hairs near him. That’s when Neji knew he was thrown away, and that the Uchiha was done with him.

On his back, white eyes snapped open, sharp and aware of the familiar ceiling of his bedroom.

…There was no one here. His scalp tingled, but he felt no hairs missing. His jaw ached, but tasted nothing save the thick of his own tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. As much as he wanted to imagine it, there was no smell of sex in the air.

At this rate, the only one denying it was Neji. To see it in those fierce blue eyes, and here again in one’s escape. His own subconscious had turned against him.

…He had to get stronger, to compete with fate.

Neither of these boys were liars. Deluding himself that far, when he was already convinced to win, would be suicide.

Fingers lifted to a moonpale cheek, making sure it was only sweat that dotted his skin. In some twinge of regret, he sighed and tossed his restless body on to his side.

They were still just boys. One couldn’t aim for his mouth worth anything. Conscious, he tugged the sheets up to his chin and glared at the tatami nearby. But, maybe the brat hadn’t been aiming for his mouth.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“He could have at least left a note with you… That guy.” A mighty sigh from his super-smooth, bronze and MIGHTY chest.

It was something to be said that his rival trusted him with the man’s pet plant. It was another that there had been no warning, and no delivery in person. Gai had been performing his morning, MANLY exercises of YOUTH, buttocks sore from squats and THRUSTS and OHITBURNEDSOGOOD. His everything hurt, really. The last few days had passed by without rest, so concerned for his super-precious and too-cute student still critical and in the hospital.

From experience, he knew the best way to work through grief was to literally work through it.

And! He had to work twice as hard on Lee’s behalf!

--Aside. He had been performing his daily duties of manliness, when he had come back to his duplex and found the helpless Ukki-san sat on his porch. It was not the first time Kakashi had handed it over, but it was never a good sign.

Ukki-san only had to sleep over when no one was going to be at that place for a while. Such a thoughtful man! Secretly, Gai knew it was a challenge. Both of his character, to be without his rival, and to take care of such a helpless, LEAFY GREEN THING.

He felt like kin.

Kakashi took this kin of his as a pet, so he felt ultra-special.

It was not as though he minded taking care of the poor thing, a shrub that seemed to lift its foliage out to him in some need of affection. Rather, he was honored that Kakashi trusted him to take it with no complaint.

What a challenging, COOL GUY!

Eyebrows shifted. His manly sense was tingling. Casting gorgeously-lashed eyes over a green shoulder, impressed to see that one of his students had once again slipped in to the Spartan apartment without notice.

“Hm…? …Neji-kun, did you need something?” After his display at the exams, and exposing how he had lost control of his rage, Gai no longer felt he could be teacher to this boy. Besides, there was only so much he, a master of the Iron Fist, could teach the prodigy of such an opposing style.

The Hyuuga had outgrown him, and as a man that saw shame in concealing one’s emotions, his own stunning, beady black eyes never seemed on the level with those opal ones. They saw so much farther than his.

Neji stood there in consternated silence, face gradually ticking away from apathetic porcelain to agitated alabaster. Choosing his words carefully, shoulders tensed.

“What… do you know about the Uchiha clan?”

AHAH! So there was something he could yet teach this boy! Overcome with success at that, he forgot about the helpless greenery and gained his feet.

“Information isn’t free in the world of shinobi like you and myself, you know.” A clucking finger twitched back and forth, until Gai folded his hand in to inspect his manicure.

A rich maple brow ticked.

Silence passed between them, and Neji’s expression gradually worsened, a finite and opaque glare settling on his teacher. A man that proved immune with only a layer of spandex to protect him, oblivious as one nail after another passed his scrutiny.

The Hyuuga fidgeted.

And then…

A mouse’s peep would have been louder.

“I wish… to… soak my youthful skull-sponge with your knowledge, Gai-sensei. …Please.”

Were his senses not so amazing, he may have missed it!


That would teach him to stop underestimating his Top Rookie.

Up here, Sasuke had made a tiny camp to waste away the time his teacher had spent climbing. A low stretch of canvas for shade, his backpack dusty and occupying the space to preserve whatever valuables lay within. Bamboo thermoses of water still on the tether that must have draped him to get the canisters up here. Out of convenience, and with a bit of foil, he had also heated up a bundle of rocks (like they needed it here in the scorching altitude) to cook a bit of packed lunch. A commodity they both knew would die out long before their training was over.

Kakashi complained of having eaten before he left, still rather stuffed on bugs and lizards. A joke, but it kept the boy from inquiring, or sharing. Which left him free to talk, and Sasuke free to listen as he mulled through his bento box.

Scratching his chin, he thought on where to begin. “So, you know Naruto’s fighting that Hyuuga kid. You didn’t draw so good, either.” Black eyes flicked up to him, chewing more slowly so Sasuke could afford to listen more. Apparently, this was an interesting topic. “You’re going against that runt from the Sand.”

Sasuke had stopped chewing. ...How was that unlucky, exactly? “…The guys from the Sound…?”

“Only one made it, and he’s in a different bracket.”

He dwelled on that with a blank face. Too young to watch the exams when he was younger, and neither his brother nor father ever telling him about the spectacle, he was usually stuck with only the festival aspect of it all and cooking dinner with his vigilant mother. Even when it had been Itachi’s turn to take this exam, he had acted no different, and that’s why as a boy he had never worried about it.

If his brother didn’t worry, it wasn’t anything he in turn needed to worry about. It was easy to enjoy the fireworks, sat on strong shoulders and fingers netted in onyx silk, back then.

After ‘the’ incident, he had lost all interest in the social events of their village.

Thoughts shattered when he heard it. “…Lee’s not going to be there.”

…Dammit. And here, when he was done stamping Naruto in to the ground, it would have been awesome to go one on one with no chakra left against a guy that couldn’t use any. Maybe it would be fair.

“How…?” It wasn’t often that he was dumbfounded, but if that was true, there was a very short list of people who had defeated him: the guy from the Sound, that pissy Top Rookie, and…

“His name’s Gaara.”

When the eyes of his student didn’t stray, it was evident he had already heard the name before. His appetite had shifted from the bento box, and even if Kakashi himself had been hungry, he wasn’t anymore. The shade they were sat under did little to ward off the heat, and he’d like to think he could get away from explaining it all with an excuse, half-true, that he was too thirsty to talk.

Dust intruded near his shoulder and only the plains seemed up to chatter now. Sasuke set the box down, his meal now tampered with, and reached for one of the bamboo canisters to offer it.

So much for that excuse. Tipping it back for a sip, he sighed and collected his thoughts, one by one with each tap of sore fingers on smooth wood.

“I… don’t really have enough time to teach you everything you’ll possibly need to know to fight this guy…”

The boy afforded him a smirk. “Fuzzy brows was already kind of messed up, fighting those Oto-nin. If it was anything like what happened to Kabuto, he was probably under par.” That guy was still deaf in one ear six days after the fact.

Pallid eye narrowed at the mention of that prick. “Kabuto’s a spy for the Sound. We don’t know how much he was faking.”

Humor toppled from the height of his face, and Kakashi looked away when the boy slumped so far to expose the Curse at his neck. It must have begun to sting, because when he was done chewing the pad of his thumb his hand settled over it.

“…And even if what you say is true… he went all out.”

Like that was saying much. “He doesn’t look like he’s smart enough to hold back.”

Sweatdrop. “Looks can be deceiving, Sasuke. He… kind of held back, with you.” That was definitely something the boy hadn’t wanted to hear from the way his nose scrunched up. “You know about the chakra gates, right?”

A nod satisfied him, quite relieved to not have to sit through another round of explaining it.

“He… may look kind of funny, but he’s Gai’s student alright. He can open five.”

If the news wasn’t so damaging to his pride and his strategy, he might well have had an extreme reaction.

Kakashi offered the little water bottle back. “Didn’t put a single scratch on him. …He’s never going to be a shinobi again.”

More than anything, as he might have cherished the shaky way his pupil took the bamboo back, he couldn’t shake the haunting position he was in.

More than anything, he didn’t want the same thing to happen to his favorite student. He wanted to amuse himself with how Sasuke couldn’t get his throat to work, and how his sun-heated face had lost color.

“…The only reason Gaara didn’t kill him was because Gai stepped in. I’ve got less than a month to—“

Dark eyes centered on him, front teeth gnawing away at the wooden lip. Pulling it away, he was resolved in his demand and set it down. “Let’s get started then.” He was getting to his feet, when a grip came upon the wrist near his knee. Looking down to silver hair, he grimaced. “I’m fine. You told me not to come if I wasn’t, right?”

“…Sasuke.” Though he’d taken water, his throat had dried and his tongue had swelled again. His lone eye was still too heavy to lift from his lap, leather noiseless on the wrist warmer. “Why are you here?”

It was rare for the Uchiha to not understand a question. Rather than admit his confusion, he waited.

Preparing himself with a breath that couldn’t be deep enough, he took the icy plunge in to his fears. In this heat, it was mildly better. “…I know you don’t have any ambition to be a chuunin. It’s not your goal to take this exam on Konoha’s behalf.”

Suddenly, he was regretting his own honesty. The first day they met and he had told a stranger – a stranger that proved himself to be much stronger – his life’s goal.

It was true.

Revenge didn’t have anything to do with Konoha, not in the slightest.

“You’re not exactly a team player.” His grip stole comfort from how there was no great effort to pull away. Only the briefest tug to say that he was sliding towards the end of patience’s rope. “…I don’t want to fool myself – and I don’t want you to lie to me.”

Sandals moved, not to take his arm away, but he had not yet finished standing to emerge from the low tarp. It was embarrassing, to have such a weight on his arm, like the man was trying to pull himself out of heavy water. He wanted to argue, he wanted to be too busy to think about that, but Kakashi seemed determined to contest him.

“…Have you changed at all, since then?”

If he looked, he wouldn’t see it. He had to hear it, for himself, not a voiceless agreement from eyes too expressive for their own good. If there was a shadow under the tarp he would have watched that instead, not the way fingers below his grasp twitched in thought. He let his eye stray to the scrawny knees that were in the dirt, and the other hand loose against a cotton thigh.

Knuckles got a noise from the exhausted leather of his glove as he secured himself around that wrist. “If you want to call yourself an avenger, that’s fine. Go ahead.

“But while you wear that headband, and while you’re a shinobi of Konoha, you’re my responsibility. I expect you to uphold that, and while you’re out here, you’re going to train for this exam and this exam only.”

Why it infuriated him so much he didn’t know. Jealousy maybe. Fury, that this boy’s life had been altered to a point he only understood the dark, depraved spectrum of people, and somehow felt he needed to be like that to fit in.

Sasuke was a poser, and he hated that. Hated how the ends of his own fingers had turned white and cold for the grip he had, and that the smaller ninja hadn’t made a single peep or protest or pull for freedom while the ends of smaller fingers had gone dark with suffocation.

“Itachi,” he rasped, taking in the way mauve fingers paled with the little movement and the emotions brought up by just the name. “…should be the last thing on your mind, while you’re out here. He’s not the one that’s going to be trying to kill you.”

Amazing, how much more brass he had when he didn’t have to see that face. Glancing up, his resolve froze over, ready to shatter if a discarded hitai-ate flew in to it.

His eye went past the sapphire shirt, sizes too big with a collar gone starchless too long and drooped on proud little shoulders. Steel glinted in the afternoon sun that had begun to peek under the canvas, coal eyes squinting from the sharp ribbons of light that managed through dusty raven feathers.

“This is a measure of my capacity,” the heir stated calmly, slow and reasoned and calm, eerily so.

Kakashi shivered to think it didn’t sound like him at all. With his eyes drenched in light as they were, the jounin couldn’t see in to them. Like taking on a dark pane of glass, one could only take glance inside when shadow loomed, otherwise it was too efficient a mirror. It raised the hairs at his temples and put needles along his spine, glad to have those eyes off of him when they went towards the expanse of rock and sky surrounding them, equally working to get past the pane of protective glass to reach the horizon.

“I have to fight for what I want. …If I lose here, in this stupid exam, I won’t stand a chance to see that end.” To consider that, he had realized something just then, with the quirk of smugness that came to his lips.

He couldn’t see exactly how. Hearing something like that made his stomach knot, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. Distressing over the thought, he made no effort to keep the hand that slid away as Sasuke left the shabby haven. Instead, his eye followed the red and white crest pronounce itself with the boy stood with back to him.

“…I’ve changed. Back then, everyone else was just in the way. …Even you.”

The jounin scoffed, eye taking a scorned gleam. “I figured.”

“And that Orochimaru guy. I don’t care what he did to me, it’s just one more obstacle.” Fists closed at his sides, dust coming loose at his feet when he turned to look back at the other’s sour look. “I’m not afraid of him.”

There was no way he would let anyone else trump the way his kindred bane made him lose sleep at night and recite nightmares.

The next time he saw that Pseudo Sasuke, he’d punch him.

He hooked a thumb to the open span of the pillar’s top they were upon. “Convinced yet? Stop wasting my time old man and let’s get started.”

His crinkled eye withered. “Don’t call me that…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Really, he was amazed. “You pack… kunai, tags, study scrolls-- salt?” In his process of taking such items out he simply gaped at the labeled little can. A defeated sigh, he slumped over the backpack and gazed at the boy. “…And you didn’t bring any sunblock?”

Nearby, Sasuke was slumped against a rock, still breathless and aching. His shirt was in his lap as he stared in disbelief at the unabashed way the sun had left its mark on him. The backs of his hands were a startling pink, a pink that would be red if he didn’t…

“…No aloe either?”

…take care of it soon. His elbows, too. Joints were tender now, not so much from exhaustion as abused skin refused to take the abuse any longer. Especially on his neck, a clear and defined mantle of tomato rushing from his collar bone to his ears.

Really, he was amused. Holstering his cheek in a hand, he watched the boy be too apprehensive to do anything.

Sasuke shouldn’t have lasted as long as he did. Familiar with the genin’s condition when he left, it didn’t add up that the boy had been so coordinated and recovered. Further along than he had calculated. That meant there was a chance they could move in to the intensive training much sooner. Most of today had been spent gauging stamina and tactics and motion, so he could adequately pick a place to start.

“Sounds like you screwed yourself over. What ever happened to being prepared?” The boy shot him a look, to which he shook off with a bright smile. “You’re in luck. This is a desert. Well, a desert-y kinda place…” Lifting his head, he took a gander at the scenery. “If you promise to have camp set up by the time I get back, I’ll give a good look around while the sun’s still out. This place gets cold fast.”

A consenting, difficult huff was his only response and his signal to get to his feet. Truth was, he was just as beat. Climbing up here one handed had been draining, but he promised himself he wouldn’t take so long this time.

Rather pleased with himself, he did manage to find another one of the little black boxes, taking that under his arm. “I can enjoy this while I’m out!” Giving a fruity little wave, he disappeared in a puff of ninja smoke, leaving Sasuke to click his tongue, and hobble to the abandoned pack.


By the time Kakashi returned, even the sun had gotten tired of waiting. Taking forever to fall beyond the horizon, it did not take nearly so long for its overheated tendrils to retreat. Now cold was holding reign, blue shadows and a sliver of moon white, bright, and leading an army of stars conquering the deserted land.

“Quiet, isn’t it?”

Black eyes pulled up from the pile of rocks glowing bright orange with heat to take in the man’s returned figure. Plus one prickly harvest in the box his arms were around.

“What… are those?”

A happily incredulous note in his voice. “Cactus. What did you think aloe vera was?”

Another irritable jab at his childish understanding. In no mood for it, he gave a hn and returned his eyes to the glow. Plopping down beside him, the jounin landed his hand in the back of thick, dirty hair and soothed. The hiss he received said even his scalp had gotten burned.


Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that the Uchiha had packed only one sleeping bag.

That was not to say he was complaining. It was a roomy sleeping bag. That’s not what he was complaining about.

Only slightly irritated at not being able to sleep with the nearby whimpers, he released a sigh against the warm, pink ear. “Still bothering you…?”

No response came, making him lift his head to drag his faded blue eye over the young face. Eyebrows knitted, scarred eye winked shut. Sun-lashed features screwed up with pain, cheeks red and forehead pale. Through the sunburn, he could still tell there was a fever brewing.

Fingers laid out over his chest twitched, curling to anchor his fists in something other than the nightmare. Sacrificing his hand to that, Kakashi winced at the greedy way nails sink in. His arm around the smaller body tightened.

As much as he would like to think it was the new environment that was weathering his effect on the other’s sleeping habits, he was quite sure that the ache of Sasuke’s skin wasn’t reaching him in his subconscious, much less the body around it.

Right now, he was in a place only that meddlesome brand could reach.

Sure the desert was cold at night. A person could freeze their toesies off wandering around at this hour.

But that wasn’t why he shivered.

Anger left a bitter taste on the top of his mouth, considering. Deciding.

He was taking his Top Rookie back.

Expecting a riot as soon as he’d speak, he secured the arm being slept on around the small frame, arms with burnt patches kept at the sides of a heaving ribcage.

He dared getting closer, hoping to irritate the boy’s red ear with the brush of his masked nose there. “Sasuke.” A snip of breath, stern and worry tracking through the eye that took in how the boy didn’t jump to his name. “Sasuke…”

Shaking him lightly, there wasn’t any response, so he shifted the mass off his leg between sore thighs, and closed the other on top of the pile. Confident in his pinion, he sighed in to the damaged ear.

“Sasuke, wake up.” The boy was such a deep sleeper so it didn’t surprise him that it would take a few tries. But still, nothing.

His bundle of Uchiha his chest was curled around made no signs to being aware of him. To test that, he sent veiled teeth on to the handle of his ear, chewing his way down to the lobe. Without a complaint he reached the top of a scalded neck, nuzzling in to the hollow of the young jaw that trembled with grit teeth. At this rate, he could probably… Would probably have to…

Chancing his progress, he nibbled at the supple protrusion of jugular, a relieved exhale that was contaminated with the smell of his obsession tumbling over tender shoulder.

There was a new smell there, making him grimace and gag and push the taste to the back of his throat.

It wasn’t aloe. Worse, it no doubt tasted worse than it smelled, and it smelled like it tasted pretty awful. Skipping past the Curse his attention returned to the erratic pulse trapped in the thin neck.

Meanwhile, his free hand drifted the plains of muscles contracting with pain, fingers inviting themselves to circle the taut flesh at his naval.

Creeping, nails brushing elastic.

This would probably be the last chance he had.

“Sasuke…” A puppy’s whine in to his cheek. Afraid to scratch at the door and be let out no matter how badly he needed to go.

The weight of his sigh multiplied when there was no definable answer to his calling.

Be it relief or regret quite uncertain.

~@~@~@~@~@~

Pseudo Sasuke continued to giggle, the little hyena rolling about on the floor and clutching his sides. Standing over him, a perplexed Sasuke grew more incensed. Fists balled and he sent his foot out again, throwing his foot in to the tiny ribcage and sending him careening in to the shadows.

Alert, knowing his senses would do him no good here, he took stance and waited for his reappearance. Sudden, immediate, a lilac whip sprang from the shadows and took him by the torso. In the darkness he could make out the glow of an acidic gold eye that grew closer when the Uchiha heir was reeled in for his inspection.

There was only a giddy coo at his hip, coal eyes growing large when teeth sank.

Beginning to thrash did no good with the tongue confining his chest. Nails dug but the massive power didn’t yield. Dragon’s breath was so hot on the seal at his neck. He was suffocating in unpurged screams, the only sound in his ears that hissing, corrosive voice that mocked his name.

Biting continued, bloody grooves emerging along the lowest part of his belly being torn open bit by bit, a face like his own and distorted with sadistic malice in plump cheeks responsible. Thumb and fore build a ring around the frightening swell of his cock, sick black eyes gleaming.

They both knew where those teeth were going.


His ears were still ringing, as were the surrounding rocks from the bout of screaming that had erupted. It didn’t dissuade him, continuing to flex his grip around the swelled length. Sasuke’s voice broke when the heaving began, quaking sobs the only thing he had energy for. Moments of his thrashing had passed and Kakashi had prevailed, passing sweet hushes in to his ear.

His arm was grooved with bloody crescents, knuckles white and numb in keeping the Uchiha’s back pressed against him.

He hiccupped, burnt face turning wet eyes in to the floor of the sleeping bag. “Wh… wha…--nnm…maa~!”

His arm was freed by the pale one drapped around it, lifting long fingers to brush the wet on his lower lip. Panting was all he could afford to do with the hold of his cock, an entire palm squeezing the breadth of him and long fingers kneading along his shaft.

Sasuke didn’t quite think it was fair to hear someone equally breathless behind him, that he couldn’t see and could only feel orchestrating another voiceless moan.

“You wouldn’t… wake up. Sorry…”

Eyes clamped shut, lashes cold on his cheeks and nose thick enough to urge his dry mouth to pull at more air. A low wail surfaced from the body of the dark blue sleeping bag as the rough pad of an alien thumb circled the very top of his head. His briefs were growing cold with stickiness, shivering and bucking his hips in to ones that met his rear in a much calmer state than himself.

He couldn’t afford to be aware of was the mound of warmth nudging his buttocks. His mouth wouldn’t close, the warmth of someone else’s finger dragging gently on his lower lip at the same grueling, cruel, slow way his organ was pressed. His mind was painfully attempting to wrap around how much larger someone else was, spasms in his legs contained by the ones tangled in them.

“I can stop…” …He couldn’t, but he could promise to try.

Teeth nipped the white finger, growling. “F…finish it.”

The feeble, decisive command was met with the shortest of fingers massaging the base of him and nudging at his sac.

It didn’t take much, the jounin noticed. Pain in his finger being chewed on was well worth the satisfaction that it was over representing itself in a short cry high in a stuffy nose. Silver mingled with ebon as he nuzzled the back of the Uchiha’s skull, small form trembling from his teeth to his toes.

Kakashi welcomed the closeness, brushing his masked nose in to lax jaw.

Not long after the frantic breathing recovered, he began to fidget. Stickiness coated the whole inside of his shorts, releasing an uncomfortable groan for it. More that than the fact there was a hand fully cased around his shrinking member, lazy about pulling away. A hand considerate enough to roll skin back in to place and shield him from becoming entirely messy until the Uchiha could bring himself to tiredly, carefully pull the clingy material away from his hip.

“Why… didn’t you take them…?” It was annoying, that they were ruined so early in the month.

Face already red with sunburn and climbing down from the high of climax, he didn’t have anything left to blush at the hand sliding out and rubbing clean on the top of the stretchy seams. Little good that did, soaked as they were, but it did give Sasuke the privacy to manipulate the fabric away from him. Knees pulled to his chest, cold sticking to his ankles. The jounin closed in on the new position, knees in to the backs of his and reminding the boy that there was still a hardness against his rump. His now naked rump.

“It was either that, or get it all in here. If I knew your priorities, I would’ve…” The snowy blue eye couldn’t see under the hold of the bag, but he could feel the shorts being shoved in to his grasp.

He rolled on to his back to fixate on wiping his hands off, then reached out in to the crisp night to dump the soiled material near the pile of the rest of their clothes.

In the morning, he would probably get his ear cursed off with smattering their headbands with his cum. But for now, he wanted to try and enjoy the idea that he had somehow done his Top Rookie a much needed favor.

Sasuke didn’t budge lest he be reminded of what was still drying on his thighs, but he would have liked to think this was better.

Better to be awake in good company, than trapped in his own head.

Knuckles that had braved the night’s chill settled against his blistered cheek, and oh…

Somehow, he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, not able to tell if they were open in the first place in the dark. Now, though, he had a very clear idea of who was holding him.

Outside, on the stack of folded clothes and gear, a pair of hitai-ate were knotted together, intent to not fly away in the night. Metal plates with engraved Leafs dully reflected the huddle of black scrap left to fend for itself.