Haunted: AFF's weekly prompt
folder
Naruto › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,001
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Naruto › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,001
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Haunted: AFF's weekly prompt
This is really a repurposed and altered version of a scene from my story "Kakashi and his Raven part 2." Enjoy.
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His mind was filled with blood. Minato’s corpse and that of his girlfriend—who Kakashi was shocked he never actually married—Obito’s blood splattered around him, Rin’s blood gushing from a slash from her shoulder to hip, Naruto’s blood being washed away in the rain, pulling senbon from Sasuke’s porcupine-like body, his father lying in a pool of his own cooling blood. Itachi in the woods where he found him. Itachi under his ANBU mask, covered in blood. Itachi’s corpse. Itachi. Itachi. Itachi.
Kakashi picked up the tress of black hair he’d harvested from Itachi. He caressed its smooth surface then ran his fingers through it. He remembered it warmer and more responsive as Itachi would move his head and the strands would pull gently from his weak grasp.
He heard Itachi moan in his memory. Itachi was aching off the bed with his head thrown back as Kakashi sucked him to release. Kakashi could taste him. He felt the ghost touch of Itachi’s hands as if he were pulling him toward the bed. Kakashi lay down and relived those memories.
Itachi’s skin glowed in the moonlight, shining as he began to sweat under Kakashi’s ministrations. His hair shimmered like the moon’s reflection on water. Itachi was perfection. But that face. The tear troughs under his eyes were like a brand from birth that he would never be happy. His eyes used to be rounder, more innocent despite the killing and fighting in ANBU and the illicit relationship they were having. They became narrower in those last few days before the slaughter. When they were reunited, his eyes were permanently narrow, never able to open to the innocent roundness of his youth. It saddened Kakashi then, but now the fact was like a stab in the heart.
Sasuke had inherited that doom of sadness.
But his thoughts went back to his luscious raven. Kakashi felt that lithe body against his and could smell him. Itachi straddled him and took him into his body. That tight warmth was too much even in his memory. Itachi’s long hair spilled over his shoulders and danced over his chest as he rode Kakashi’s hips. His black eyes smoldered and he opened them to look down at Kakashi. As he neared his release, his eyes turned bright red. He shut his eyes as he cam, moaning out ‘Sempai.’ Kakashi, both in his memory and real life, cam as well. Itachi lowered himself over him, tucking his head under Kakashi’s chin and murmured how much he loved him while Kakashi caressed that smooth, scarless back and hair. He could smell that hair. Leaves and fresh rain soaked dirt, like a breeze in forest.
He then saw the body as it was after the autopsy. Kakashi’s sadness turned to rage. He sat up, the muscles of his naked body shaking. He loved Itachi so much. Life was hard enough after he slaughtered his clan and ran off, but now that he was dead Kakashi found it hard to breathe sometimes. Why bother drawing another breathe if he couldn’t smell that breeze or inhale Itachi’s breath?
As if Itachi’s spirit was trying to calm him, he felt/remembered Itachi sitting behind him with a hand over his chest and an arm around his waist.
“Itachi.”
Itachi’s sculpted face lay on his shoulder. He could feel that hard cheekbone against his collarbone and the ghost of breath on his upper back.
Kakashi calmed, but otherwise he was not mollified. Itachi’s face pulled away as if he knew he could not comfort his lover.
Itachi’s ghostly fingers slid over the back of Kakashi’s right hand. Kakashi didn’t regeister the cool metal against his fingers tips. Itachi brought that hand up to Kakashi’s throat.
“Come home with me,” Itachi whispered. Itachi ran Kakashi's hand over his throat
Kakashi collapsed having slit his own throat.
-----
His mind was filled with blood. Minato’s corpse and that of his girlfriend—who Kakashi was shocked he never actually married—Obito’s blood splattered around him, Rin’s blood gushing from a slash from her shoulder to hip, Naruto’s blood being washed away in the rain, pulling senbon from Sasuke’s porcupine-like body, his father lying in a pool of his own cooling blood. Itachi in the woods where he found him. Itachi under his ANBU mask, covered in blood. Itachi’s corpse. Itachi. Itachi. Itachi.
Kakashi picked up the tress of black hair he’d harvested from Itachi. He caressed its smooth surface then ran his fingers through it. He remembered it warmer and more responsive as Itachi would move his head and the strands would pull gently from his weak grasp.
He heard Itachi moan in his memory. Itachi was aching off the bed with his head thrown back as Kakashi sucked him to release. Kakashi could taste him. He felt the ghost touch of Itachi’s hands as if he were pulling him toward the bed. Kakashi lay down and relived those memories.
Itachi’s skin glowed in the moonlight, shining as he began to sweat under Kakashi’s ministrations. His hair shimmered like the moon’s reflection on water. Itachi was perfection. But that face. The tear troughs under his eyes were like a brand from birth that he would never be happy. His eyes used to be rounder, more innocent despite the killing and fighting in ANBU and the illicit relationship they were having. They became narrower in those last few days before the slaughter. When they were reunited, his eyes were permanently narrow, never able to open to the innocent roundness of his youth. It saddened Kakashi then, but now the fact was like a stab in the heart.
Sasuke had inherited that doom of sadness.
But his thoughts went back to his luscious raven. Kakashi felt that lithe body against his and could smell him. Itachi straddled him and took him into his body. That tight warmth was too much even in his memory. Itachi’s long hair spilled over his shoulders and danced over his chest as he rode Kakashi’s hips. His black eyes smoldered and he opened them to look down at Kakashi. As he neared his release, his eyes turned bright red. He shut his eyes as he cam, moaning out ‘Sempai.’ Kakashi, both in his memory and real life, cam as well. Itachi lowered himself over him, tucking his head under Kakashi’s chin and murmured how much he loved him while Kakashi caressed that smooth, scarless back and hair. He could smell that hair. Leaves and fresh rain soaked dirt, like a breeze in forest.
He then saw the body as it was after the autopsy. Kakashi’s sadness turned to rage. He sat up, the muscles of his naked body shaking. He loved Itachi so much. Life was hard enough after he slaughtered his clan and ran off, but now that he was dead Kakashi found it hard to breathe sometimes. Why bother drawing another breathe if he couldn’t smell that breeze or inhale Itachi’s breath?
As if Itachi’s spirit was trying to calm him, he felt/remembered Itachi sitting behind him with a hand over his chest and an arm around his waist.
“Itachi.”
Itachi’s sculpted face lay on his shoulder. He could feel that hard cheekbone against his collarbone and the ghost of breath on his upper back.
Kakashi calmed, but otherwise he was not mollified. Itachi’s face pulled away as if he knew he could not comfort his lover.
Itachi’s ghostly fingers slid over the back of Kakashi’s right hand. Kakashi didn’t regeister the cool metal against his fingers tips. Itachi brought that hand up to Kakashi’s throat.
“Come home with me,” Itachi whispered. Itachi ran Kakashi's hand over his throat
Kakashi collapsed having slit his own throat.