Dangerous Thoughts

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Dangerous Thoughts


Iruka was a screamer and he loved that about him.

No matter what though, it never failed to startle the hell out of Ibiki when the brunet opened his mouth to let out a sharp wail close to his ear. Iruka would always apologize afterwards, that is, unless Ibiki was keeping him in a wailing state.

The smaller man panted, but was currently making little noise. Ibiki loved this part. It meant he had worked Iruka up into a frenzy. He pressed his chapped lips against Iruka’s swan like neck as it arched, sliding his tongue out to lap at his sweat stained skin.

Iruka was getting close. He could tell by the way the school teacher started to tremble, how his thighs started to flutter around his ribs as they gripped him tightly. Tight enough to leave bruises? God, he hoped so.

Ibiki panted roughly, his hot breath fanning over Iruka’s cheek. Another thrust, this one deeper and harder than the previous. Iruka’s mouth opened and his eyes shut and he bared his throat. Ibiki never stopped to wonder just who Iruka was imagining when he stopped looking at him. He never wondered who the smaller man would prefer in his place…

Whose arms he’d rather be held in, whose lips he’d rather have on his, whose cock he’d rather have piercing him….

No. He never wondered any of that.

Iruka’s sharp little nails bit deep into his roving shoulders, anchoring themselves against old scars and creating new ones. Ibiki groaned darkly, not daring to take his black gaze from Iruka’s face while he suffered through an intense orgasm. And intense it must have been. He made not one sound, no shriek, not wail, no scream, no moan.

He simply bowed his spine up neatly, presented those dusky little nipples Ibiki always found himself nibbling, and held his breath.

Ibiki kept hold of him, slowing his rhythm to prolong his pleasure so that he could watch the flurry of emotions until finally, that look…there it was. Utter satisfaction? Contentment? He still didn’t know what to call it. It was…guilty and lustful and blissful and sad…and….a number of other things he either didn’t want to place or didn’t know how to recognize.

Iruka was so depressingly beautiful when he came that it was hard to look away, and harder still to watch.

He sighed and fell back down slowly, his grip on Ibiki’s broad shoulders loosening. His nails had drawn blood like always and the larger man suddenly wondered if he meant to do it. Was he punishing his lover? Or was he marking him? Dangerous thoughts. They weren’t part of the deal.

Ibiki was still hard and hot inside of the smaller nin and Iruka opened his clever eyes, hooded though they were, no doubt heavy and… God, there was that look again. That look that brought stronger men to their knees…

Ibiki didn’t try to name it. He would have called it love, but…then again, he knew Iruka too well. Knew that in this situation, he would never offer a look such as that, not to anyone, not ever. But just maybe…

Dangerous thoughts again.

Ibiki was weak. He slowly lowered his head, kissing Iruka’s neck, his collar bone, his shoulder, and withdrew from the brunet completely. Iruka’s sharp brows furrowed almost lazily and he opened his mouth to ask why.

The interrogation’s specialist sat back on his heels and eased Iruka’s legs from around his waist, urging the younger to roll onto his stomach. Even after so many years…he couldn’t stand the lie those eyes told.

Iruka did as bidden, silent, but arching up to better show himself.

Ibiki was weak. He looked, took in all the dips and curves and scattered scars…he touched too. He traced his calloused fingers up Iruka’s sides, feathering over his ribcage, sweeping up his spine, curling around his chest to hold him in place as he slipped back inside. It was a tight fit, always had been. He always felt as though Iruka were strangling his cock and it still made him moan.

He knew Iruka grinned when he did.

He bent over the slender nin, chest to back, nuzzling the long dark hair of his lover affectionately.

“Ibiki…” Iruka muttered, voice soft and innocent even now….

God, he couldn’t stand the lie. Couldn’t stand even more that he needed that lie.

Iruka accepted him deeply and shuddered, bringing one hand up to trace Ibiki’s jaw before gripping his headboard and bowing his head. The larger man dug his fingers into the school teacher’s plump ass, leaning back to get a good view as he spread those firm globes, watching himself ease in and out…in and out…

The brunet started moaning again, quivering just so. Ibiki reached around to see if it was an act, but growled when he felt Iruka’s hardened cock straining in his palm. As flattering as it was annoying, Ibiki couldn’t decide if he hated or loved how Iruka could just bounce back after an orgasm. He wasn’t as young as he used to be. It was hard to keep a lover like this one satisfied.

He bent forward again, mouth open and hot, leaving bruising kisses and bites, making his way up to Iruka’s ear where he whispered, “Already sensei? Your body’s so eager tonight….”

To his surprise, Iruka answered back, though more quietly, “Always, Ibiki-san….always eager for you…”

He couldn’t tell if it was another lie or not and was glad that he couldn’t see Iruka’s eyes. Whatever the answer, lie or not, it would do neither of them good.

Ibiki started moving harder, working to bring himself to completion. If Iruka wanted to tag along he’d have to see to it himself, the greedy thing had already come twice now, leaving his lover behind and wanting.

Iruka lost his breath and Ibiki breathed heavily enough for the both of them as they began to match each other, pushing and pulling and arching and thrusting. They moved like they were meant to do this one thing…

But…dangerous thoughts… That wasn’t part of the deal. Ibiki shook his head and bowed, shoving back in and resting his forehead between Iruka’s shoulder blades, letting his tongue flicker out on occasion to trace the old scar left behind.

His orgasm built up in the pit of his gut and swept lower, gathering in his tightened balls as he listened to skin slap against skin.

Iruka keened high in his throat and jolted, arching like a cat and stiffening. Ibiki pressed in deeper, faster, feeling the smaller nin’s body clamp down around him, sucking him in further and milking him. He let go and gave what he had to offer while Iruka slumped down.

Afterwards, while Ibiki lay awake and Iruka dreamt of nicer things, the jounin held him. His arm had fallen asleep fifteen minutes ago, and he had long gotten used to Iruka’s drooling. He watched the purple night outside, watched the snow flicker in the fluorescent lamp light. Iruka shifted closer to him.

Ibiki glanced down at his lover’s sleeping face, noting the way sharp brows bunched together and the small frown tugging at the corner of bow shaped lips.

This part wasn’t allowed though.

He got up from the bed, stopped himself from tucking the covers around Iruka’s slumbering form, and dressed. He ducked into the kitchen to have a glance at Iruka’s calendar that was hanging against the refrigerator by a magnet in the shape of a pear. The calendar had kittens on it. But that wasn’t what he was looking for.

By the bottom corner of the days were marks. Nothing readable of course. They were a code, only little slashes of color. Yesterday had a blue mark, tomorrow had a yellow mark, and the day after that had a green mark.

It seemed that his Iruka had a busy few days ahead of him this week.

His Iruka.

But Iruka wasn’t his. Would never be his. Had never been his.

Dangerous thoughts again. They could get him into trouble. Might even get both of them into trouble. He glanced at the date for today, wondering at the color used before he left the apartment and stepped out onto the cold and empty streets.

Iruka was a whore. It may have been harsh, but that’s what it boiled down to really. He worked directly under the Hokage and serviced jounin, namely ANBU after missions, before missions… Of course, not many of his lovers knew what he was up to. Ibiki was privileged in this way.

He already knew that Konoha always picked three young boys and trained them to please. He knew since age ten that Iruka had seen to the pleasures of grown men more than three times his years. He knew the reasoning behind it and even believed in it; what better way to catch a breakdown than to send in a lover to evaluate? That’s what it was of course.

Jounin would think they were coming for a good time, maybe for a release, maybe for a punching bag, maybe for…whatever else they happened to need. Iruka would be there for them, either he or two other chuunin to choose from.

He would welcome the jounin with lust filled eyes, a wanton voice, a craving touch…and they would take him to bed again and again, exhaust themselves and then talk. They always talked. And the next morning, whichever chuunin had taken on the job would report to the Hokage about their mindset.

Clever really.

He wondered what Iruka would say to the Hokage about him the next morning.

He certainly did not wonder why the mark for tonight, his mark, had been pink. He did not wonder if he was right in remembering that that was Iruka’s favorite color. And he did not wonder why it had been assigned to him.

Those were dangerous thoughts, and not part of the deal.

So he also didn’t wonder if Iruka had tucked the blankets around him that night. It was pretty cold out.


A/N: yeah, i dunno either, don't look at me like that. might be continued.