Sharing

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

Yondaime watched the boy. He was standing alone at the service. One day. That was all they had for reprieve so they could grieve for their losses and take care of them. All were wearing black. It was raining…how fitting.

So many losses. So many lives.

Those blue eyes were drawn to the lonely boy again. The service was over; people were filing away, going home to weep. The next day there would be more losses. It was inevitable. He moved to the boy, still standing alone in the rain. Umino Iruka. He was alone. From that day, now, until he found someone to share his life with, the boy would be alone.

If he lived that long. If any of us live that long.

The hand that had killed so many, protecting the village, the golden skin a stark contrast to the black, gently squeezed the ten/eleven year old’s shoulder. “Umino…” He grunted a bit when the boy turned. The small body slamming into him, Iruka’s tear streaked face pressing into Yondaime’s black shirt and his famous white long coat.

“Why?!”

Yondaime closed his eyes and held the boy to him. The rain mixing with his own tears as he leaned down and kissed the top of Iruka’s wet head. “I don’t know why.” He replied softly, “I don’t know why we are even in this war anymore. All I know is that they died, protecting you, protecting Konoha.”

Iruka’s fists balled up on Yondaime’s back. The boy jerked back, fists beating weakly at the 4th Hokage’s chest. “I want them back! Take me!”

Yondaime watched the boy, letting the small fists beat him until Iruka was done. He caught the boy before he collapsed, picking him up gently he took him home. The home of the 4th Hokage. He sat down on his couch with the boy, rocking gently, letting the boy cry. Soon, the boy stopped and just clung to him. Yondaime looked down at him, fingers gently drying off the small face.

“Will you die too?”

“One of these days, yes. Just as you will. Just as we all will.” The blonde Hokage whispered with a sad smile.

“I don’t want anyone else to die.”

”I know, Iruka. I don’t either, but it’s inevitable.” Yondaime now found himself understanding what Orochimaru was doing with part of his life. It was weird. He had never understood that senin, but now he did. It scared him a bit. No one wanted to die, he hadn’t met anyone that had anyways, Orochimaru seemed suddenly more human for the moment than anyone else; more human for dealing with a fear, trying to avoid the inevitable. He sighed, and shook his head as he hugged Iruka to him.

”Are you hungry or anything Iruka? When’s the last time you’ve ate?” Yondaime asked softly, it had probably been a while.

“I’m not hungry. Thank you.” The small boy looked up at Yondaime with wide doe-like eyes. His face puffy and red, eyes watery and surrounded by dark marks that made them even larger looking on his small face. “I think I’ll be sick if I eat.” Iruka said softly.

Yondaime nodded and ran his hand down Iruka’s cheek, wiping away the salty tear streaks. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes before you really get sick then.” He picked the snuffling boy up and took him into his bedroom down the narrow hall. “Get you into some dry clothes. Then we’ll see if you can eat just a bit of ramen or something.” He placed Iruka on his large un-made bed and rummaged around for some old clothes in the old wooden chest-of-drawers. He pulled out an old shirt he couldn’t believe he still had and a pair of shorts. Hoping they would fit the slim boy.

He smiled slightly as he held them out to Iruka. Seeing that the boy had jumped up so as not to soil his bed. “It’s seen far worse than a small rain-wet boy.” He waited till those small dark hands reached out and took the clothes before he started stripping himself. The life of the ninja he was wasn’t one of embarrassment over a fellow ninja’s nakedness. He paused at the gasp and looked at the boy. He shook his head at himself. “Sorry, guess you’re not used to seeing…a grown man naked.” He quickly pulled on a pair of dry pants and turned toward Iruka who was in his clothes. The cloth hanging off the small frame of the smallest, now the only living, Umino, hardly covering him at all.

Yondaime ruffled the dark hair, “Will you forgive your Hokage for his indiscretions? For harming your virgin eyes?”

Iruka blinked his large eyes up at the blonde haired man who everyone loved. The man who everyone looked to for leadership. The great strategist, the greatest Hokage Konoha has probably ever had and probably ever would have. Why does he care for one small boy like this? A small boy who can’t even fight in the war that may kill them all. The boy stepped to his Hokage, slim hands coming out to push those pants down again. Those brown eyes watched as the cloth slowly pooled around the golden ankles.

The same brown eyes looked up into the wide, shocked blue ones. Small hands curved around the flaccid cock, touching uncertainly, but wanting to all the same. Iruka felt that skin in his hands slowly harden and he looked back down at it. He had seen his mother and father have sex before, seen them tease and torture each other with touches, smiles shared between them, moans intermingling, it was the way they loved each other. Their physical showing of their love. Just like when they hugged and kissed him, gave him a special smile, praised him, how she sang and hummed and rocked him to sleep. How his father played with him, trained him, gave him a sneaky wink before smacking his mom’s ass or some such foolishness.

He wanted that again.

He let the too big shorts fall from him. Pulled the shirt over his head before those small hands went back to seeing what was so special about the male member of another man. He remembered how his father had moaned when his mother had licked up his cock. Iruka’s tongue wetted his lips before doing just that. Feeling Yondaime shudder, feeling those deadly hands in his hair, hearing the snap of his hair-band and a few strands falling wildly around his face, hearing what he wanted. The sharp intake of breath before the short breathy moan of need. That was what he was waiting for. He did the action that brought that response again.

No. Wrong. So very wrong. Why was he letting the boy do this? Cause it feels so damn good. Wrong. Look at how you were taught. You weren’t much older than him. It’s WRONG dammit!

“Iruka…stop…wait…” Yondaime finally found his voice as he gently pulled away that small tongue, that small mouth, by the soft strands of hair in his fingers.

“I want to hear it. I want to share them.”

Yondaime squeezed his sky blue eyes shut. So wrong but very well too damn late to stop now though. Part of him wanted to give whatever the boy wanted, just don’t stop. The other part tried to think of the consequences, sane ones, he knew there were some. Good ones too.

He picked the boy up and laid him on the bed. “Share what and hear what?” He whispered huskily.

“My parent’s love. Their sounds. What they had with each other and me.” Iruka sobbed dryly as he pressed into his Hokage, moving his body against the hard frame above him. Small thigh rubbing harshly against the hard cock. Finding his own was hard as well, he blinked, and then grappled for more feeling. Wanting more sound. Needing it. The tears not coming as the ducts were well spent of fluid. Tears appeared elsewhere on his body. Tears he didn’t think he could cry.

Yondaime moaned, laying a hand on the thin chest he stilled the boy for a while so he could get his thoughts in order. That stilling hand moved down to toy with the small prick before him. Rubbing at the damp slit with a calloused thumb, his palm cupping all of the boy’s cock. He moved his hand up and down gently. Watching the boy arch under him, wanting more, gasping for air, moaning in need, shuddering in preparation for his first orgasm from another person. Sharing his/their sounds.

The 4th Hokage smiled gently as he watched Iruka come with sharp harsh bucks, his young body pulling taught and shuddering in release. The white liquid spilling on the dark stomach. He trailed fingers in the liquid. Covering two fingers with it, he lifted one of Iruka’s legs up; pressing the tanned knee against the small chest gently.

Yondaime toyed with the soft pucker of skin for a few minutes before pressing a finger in. Slowly, gently. More sounds. Light moan here, the shallow sound of a heated body slipping against cool sheets and against another heated body there. The calloused tip of his finger brushed against that hard nubbin within Iruka lovingly. Iruka jerked, cried out at the feeling. He did it again as he slipped the second finger in. Small hands digging into the skin of his shoulders, pressing into his hard muscles. More sounds. Some coming from him as he was so hard it hurt.

He took his fingers away, taking more of Iruka’s cum he spread it over his hard shaft before situating himself. “It’ll hurt.” He whispered as he kissed the boy, slowly sliding into Iruka, pausing here and there to let them both adjust. He finally felt his balls rest against Iruka’s tight ass. He moaned as he kissed Iruka’s leg held comically high in the air, pausing again before starting to move in a steady rhythm inside the boy under him.

Iruka slowly adjusted to the pain. Slowly adjusted to Yondaime over him and inside him. He didn’t think this possible. But it was happening. He moaned again as he tried to help Yondaime. He moved against him, and then found his Hokage’s rhythm; it was smoother going after that.

The pleasure overrode the pain. He made more sounds as did Yondaime. This was what he wanted. This was what they had. They would live on like this. They were still here with him like this. Their sounds, their feelings, they weren’t dead. The boy cried out again as he felt something hot spill into him from that hard shaft within him. That shaft that was softening but still rubbing against whatever that point was inside him. Iruka found himself crying out again as he came again. That warm liquid spilling on his stomach again. He shuddered and moaned.

He watched the boy come down off the high. Those large brown eyes blinking owlishly up at him. Yondaime leaned down, bringing his thin talented lips to the small mouth. Licking gently lovingly, he let the boy share more of his sounds, more of their unbound love that was cut too short.

That love he wished he could give back to this boy, this Umino Iruka, with all his heart.