Between Friends
folder
Naruto › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,376
Reviews:
27
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Naruto › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,376
Reviews:
27
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 9: The Worries
Between Friends
Chapter Note: language, violence, BDSM, slave, dominance/submission, oral, exhibitionism, toys
Chapter 9: The Worries
Izumo lay quietly on the bed while Kotetsu was out of the room washing up. He was too confused to want to get off again despite still having an erection. He had lost the peaceful feeling of earlier this evening and was wondering if this was the start of the end of his friendship with Kotetsu. Things were changing too fast, and he felt nervous. Letting himself relax enough to have an orgasm wasn’t going to help him feel in control or safe, and he felt a strong craving to feel both. He curled up in a fetal position on the bed and tried to process what had just happened with his life.
The sound of Asuma and Shikamaru laughing, coming clearly through the thin wall, made him curl up tighter, and feel even more nervous. When he finally heard his new lover slip in the bed, his heart started to pound, unsure if he wanted Kotetsu to ignore him or touch him, to talk or be silent. He felt a warm body at his back and heard a familiar exhausted yawn.
`God, only Tetsu can be putting on a sex show like that one minute and be falling asleep the next,’ he thought, chuckling a little in his relief that it looked like the weird part of the night was over. He rolled over on his back, wanting to snuggle and feel reassured that there was love between the two of them. `My poor fucked-up little Tetsu,’ he thought leaning down to give his first lover’s goodnight kiss. It seemed only minutes until Izumo could tell the man in his arms was asleep.
`This is the second time he’s fallen asleep on me after satisfying himself,’ he thought feeling a bit of self-pity. `Why am I in love with an asshole?’ But the very word asshole now evoked erotic memories that Izumo had never imagined he would ever have. Memories like watching Kotetsu slide his fingers in and out of his own asshole, wiggling and shaking that oh, so, gorgeous ass of his. And he had wanted that ass to be taken, had begging for it, giving him permission to do anything to him. The sight of the red marks of his own fingers on those pale buttocks had excited him. The sight of the red welt from the belt had made him shake with desire. The sight of Kotetsu coming and crying out his name had made him feel a sharp pain in his chest and a flood of relief that it was over.
Izumo felt a little sick—he didn’t like to think he was the sort of person that enjoyed violence. But he had, some savage part of him had awoken. `This ass is mine, all mine, and he’s had the gall to be giving it away to women for years. He’ll never fuck another women again,’ had been the sort of things raging in his mind as he had reached for the leather belt. At that moment it had seemed only logical and right that Kotetsu pay in pain for all the times his body had teased Izumo with its beauty, its forbidden status, its unattainability.
But watching how the violence made Kotetsu climax had been disturbing, unsettling. Was he supposed to beat his friend out of love now? How could he love someone and yet feel so angry, so mad, so determined to hurt him? But how could he stop himself from inflicting that pain that was so seductive, that called to the part of Izumo he didn’t want to exist, when his best friend begged for it, literally. He had cried like a little girl and kissed his feet. He even had said something about kissing Izumo’s hands as they punished him, and Izumo wondered if he had continued to force Kotetsu’s head down into the toilet after his blatant confession of having faking all that broken rib pain, would he have let him do that? How completely and totally disgusting! He’d savagely kneed Kotetsu in the back for making him be the one to pull back, the one to save his friend from a urine bath, from his own stupid, complete passivity. Although shoving your cock down a gagging throat was not exactly being "saving" or kind.
Had that crude face fuck been his idea or Kotetsu’s? He’d been saying something like, “Please, master, please, let your slave kiss your cock, let this slave suck you,” and it seemed the logical thing to do. But the sound of Kotetsu gagging, struggling for air had made him feel too dirty, too sick. Was it right to treat someone like trash, even if they seemed to like it? To want it? But then again was it right to hold something back from the one you loved when wanting it was clearly causing them emotional pain? He’d just wanted those tears to go away, to make Kotetsu happy.
`My god, we so need therapy. I’m in love with a guy who loves me, but he has tried not to for years because he doesn’t want me to feel dirty, and he can’t get off without risk or pain.’ He didn’t know if he should be happy or hurt that Kotetsu had felt the need to hide his desire for Izumo to inflict pain on him for years. He didn’t know anything anymore.
No that was not true, he knew he didn’t want to be the cautious shy one anymore. So what that he still had never fucked anyone in his life; he would be the only one fucking Kotetsu now for the rest of his life. He felt a smile curl around his mouth and mocked himself, `Oh poor me, I have the hottest guy I’ve ever seen wanting me to treat him like a sex slave. I’m going to have let him suck me off, bend over for me, and order him around. I’ll have to spray him with my cum and spank him. I can order him to do anything to himself, and he’ll do it. Oh my god, oh my god—‘
A flood of shocking images seemed to emerge from every corner of Izumo’s mind. He could see Kotetsu in their apartment’s kitchen, bent over the kitchen table being beaten on the ass with a wooden cooking spoon. He saw himself shoving the spoon up into Kotetsu, watching his reddened ass cheeks clench around it, hearing him moan. He’d leave him there like that and just sit and drink tea. If he didn’t stay still and be quiet, he’d force other things inside him.
`I’ll have to buy some sex toys for him. No, even better, I’ll make him buy them himself. He’ll probably get something I’d be afraid to try to push into him too, the slut. Slut--I’m the slut, thinking of all this as he lies here sleeping! My god, talk about the pot calling the kettle black! I told him I didn’t think he knew what he wanted, and I’ve gone from thinking we need therapy to thinking we need to stock up on sex toys in a few seconds. Maybe we’ll both be killed tomorrow, and I won’t even have to deal with all this.’
Another set of memories pushed into Izumo’s mind—the sight of Hayate’s dead body, the Third’s dead body, all the other dead comrades he’d seen. The image of those dead monks at the Shinobi temple only a day ago surfaced in his mind, making worrying over who fucked whom or getting upset over a few punches or broken bones seem an incredible waste of time. Here he was with the man he loved in his arms, what was there to complain or worry about? As if he could hear Izumo’s feelings of love, Kotetsu stirred and moved his head, so the bristles on his chin and throat scrapped on Izumo’s skin. A spike of black hair flopped against Izumo’s nose, tickling him. “Love you, Zu-Zu,” mumbled Kotetsu before starting to snore. And then it just seemed like everything would be ok, that all was right with the world. `Life is good,’ thought Izumo as he slid into sleep for the last time that night, with a smile curving his lips.
Chapter Note: language, violence, BDSM, slave, dominance/submission, oral, exhibitionism, toys
Chapter 9: The Worries
Izumo lay quietly on the bed while Kotetsu was out of the room washing up. He was too confused to want to get off again despite still having an erection. He had lost the peaceful feeling of earlier this evening and was wondering if this was the start of the end of his friendship with Kotetsu. Things were changing too fast, and he felt nervous. Letting himself relax enough to have an orgasm wasn’t going to help him feel in control or safe, and he felt a strong craving to feel both. He curled up in a fetal position on the bed and tried to process what had just happened with his life.
The sound of Asuma and Shikamaru laughing, coming clearly through the thin wall, made him curl up tighter, and feel even more nervous. When he finally heard his new lover slip in the bed, his heart started to pound, unsure if he wanted Kotetsu to ignore him or touch him, to talk or be silent. He felt a warm body at his back and heard a familiar exhausted yawn.
`God, only Tetsu can be putting on a sex show like that one minute and be falling asleep the next,’ he thought, chuckling a little in his relief that it looked like the weird part of the night was over. He rolled over on his back, wanting to snuggle and feel reassured that there was love between the two of them. `My poor fucked-up little Tetsu,’ he thought leaning down to give his first lover’s goodnight kiss. It seemed only minutes until Izumo could tell the man in his arms was asleep.
`This is the second time he’s fallen asleep on me after satisfying himself,’ he thought feeling a bit of self-pity. `Why am I in love with an asshole?’ But the very word asshole now evoked erotic memories that Izumo had never imagined he would ever have. Memories like watching Kotetsu slide his fingers in and out of his own asshole, wiggling and shaking that oh, so, gorgeous ass of his. And he had wanted that ass to be taken, had begging for it, giving him permission to do anything to him. The sight of the red marks of his own fingers on those pale buttocks had excited him. The sight of the red welt from the belt had made him shake with desire. The sight of Kotetsu coming and crying out his name had made him feel a sharp pain in his chest and a flood of relief that it was over.
Izumo felt a little sick—he didn’t like to think he was the sort of person that enjoyed violence. But he had, some savage part of him had awoken. `This ass is mine, all mine, and he’s had the gall to be giving it away to women for years. He’ll never fuck another women again,’ had been the sort of things raging in his mind as he had reached for the leather belt. At that moment it had seemed only logical and right that Kotetsu pay in pain for all the times his body had teased Izumo with its beauty, its forbidden status, its unattainability.
But watching how the violence made Kotetsu climax had been disturbing, unsettling. Was he supposed to beat his friend out of love now? How could he love someone and yet feel so angry, so mad, so determined to hurt him? But how could he stop himself from inflicting that pain that was so seductive, that called to the part of Izumo he didn’t want to exist, when his best friend begged for it, literally. He had cried like a little girl and kissed his feet. He even had said something about kissing Izumo’s hands as they punished him, and Izumo wondered if he had continued to force Kotetsu’s head down into the toilet after his blatant confession of having faking all that broken rib pain, would he have let him do that? How completely and totally disgusting! He’d savagely kneed Kotetsu in the back for making him be the one to pull back, the one to save his friend from a urine bath, from his own stupid, complete passivity. Although shoving your cock down a gagging throat was not exactly being "saving" or kind.
Had that crude face fuck been his idea or Kotetsu’s? He’d been saying something like, “Please, master, please, let your slave kiss your cock, let this slave suck you,” and it seemed the logical thing to do. But the sound of Kotetsu gagging, struggling for air had made him feel too dirty, too sick. Was it right to treat someone like trash, even if they seemed to like it? To want it? But then again was it right to hold something back from the one you loved when wanting it was clearly causing them emotional pain? He’d just wanted those tears to go away, to make Kotetsu happy.
`My god, we so need therapy. I’m in love with a guy who loves me, but he has tried not to for years because he doesn’t want me to feel dirty, and he can’t get off without risk or pain.’ He didn’t know if he should be happy or hurt that Kotetsu had felt the need to hide his desire for Izumo to inflict pain on him for years. He didn’t know anything anymore.
No that was not true, he knew he didn’t want to be the cautious shy one anymore. So what that he still had never fucked anyone in his life; he would be the only one fucking Kotetsu now for the rest of his life. He felt a smile curl around his mouth and mocked himself, `Oh poor me, I have the hottest guy I’ve ever seen wanting me to treat him like a sex slave. I’m going to have let him suck me off, bend over for me, and order him around. I’ll have to spray him with my cum and spank him. I can order him to do anything to himself, and he’ll do it. Oh my god, oh my god—‘
A flood of shocking images seemed to emerge from every corner of Izumo’s mind. He could see Kotetsu in their apartment’s kitchen, bent over the kitchen table being beaten on the ass with a wooden cooking spoon. He saw himself shoving the spoon up into Kotetsu, watching his reddened ass cheeks clench around it, hearing him moan. He’d leave him there like that and just sit and drink tea. If he didn’t stay still and be quiet, he’d force other things inside him.
`I’ll have to buy some sex toys for him. No, even better, I’ll make him buy them himself. He’ll probably get something I’d be afraid to try to push into him too, the slut. Slut--I’m the slut, thinking of all this as he lies here sleeping! My god, talk about the pot calling the kettle black! I told him I didn’t think he knew what he wanted, and I’ve gone from thinking we need therapy to thinking we need to stock up on sex toys in a few seconds. Maybe we’ll both be killed tomorrow, and I won’t even have to deal with all this.’
Another set of memories pushed into Izumo’s mind—the sight of Hayate’s dead body, the Third’s dead body, all the other dead comrades he’d seen. The image of those dead monks at the Shinobi temple only a day ago surfaced in his mind, making worrying over who fucked whom or getting upset over a few punches or broken bones seem an incredible waste of time. Here he was with the man he loved in his arms, what was there to complain or worry about? As if he could hear Izumo’s feelings of love, Kotetsu stirred and moved his head, so the bristles on his chin and throat scrapped on Izumo’s skin. A spike of black hair flopped against Izumo’s nose, tickling him. “Love you, Zu-Zu,” mumbled Kotetsu before starting to snore. And then it just seemed like everything would be ok, that all was right with the world. `Life is good,’ thought Izumo as he slid into sleep for the last time that night, with a smile curving his lips.