[Sasuke could probably have countered that. He's spent too many years expecting an attack at any moment, even sleeping with his guard up, ever on alert. Kakashi's fast, but so is Sasuke, and he knows very well he could have at least given the other a good grapple, a struggle, if he'd wanted to.]
[He didn't want to.]
[The pins-and-needles feeling explodes out from that mantle across every single inch of his skin when fingers reach, catch, and press into the edges of his throat, and his breath catches in a gasp even before Kakashi moves them both. Rushes out when that slam crashes him into the wall, expels the breath from his lungs. He can feel the way it just, just struggles through his throat under that hard grip of fingers.]
[It takes a moment for the awareness of himself to return, for him to remember that he has more body than just the throat with the hand around it and the lungs that burn and the eyes that have Kakashi's gaze boring into them. He regains awareness of his legs first, of his inner thighs as Kakashi's leg presses between them in silent demand. He doesn't squirm. He doesn't protest. He just focuses, for that second, on the warm way his legs tingle at the touch and friction. He doesn't exactly spread his legs, but then again, Kakashi doesn't really have to use a lot of force to push until his knee meets the wall between Sasuke's thighs.]
[It takes him the longest time to remember his hands. He's all just breath and warm thighs and the beat of blood he can feel pulsing in his crotch in time with his heartbeat, throbbing just like the artery under Kakashi's thumb throbs, and fuck but he absolutely cannot wrench his gaze away from that look in Kakashi's eye. Can't slow down the breath that's now panting over parted lips as his periphery catches that smirk and he thinks he's got to be dreaming. He's got to be, except this is too real and the pounding of his blood under Kakashi's thumb (above his knee) is too intense. He's too hyperaware of the chakra thundering in the other's body, of the calluses scraping his throat in a way you wouldn't notice if you didn't know but they scream with the faint edge of lightning. He can almost feel the spark. Two fingers on his left hand twitch, responsive to that silent crackle that both definitely is there and certainly isn't, and it's only then that he remembers his hands, hanging useless at his sides. Palms press against the cool, imperfect paint of the wall. Grounding. Still basically useless even for that. He's not sure what else to do with them. His hands have always been for breaking, not holding. And if there's one thing he doesn't want to break, it's whatever this is. If there's one thing he doesn't want to do, it's to push Kakashi away.]
[Black tomoe spin out of suddenly red irises. Nothing else about Sasuke moves but his breath. He can't say a word, but his stillness speaks volumes. He denies nothing.]
THE REST OF THIS THREAD IS PROBABLY NSFW UNTIL OTHERWISE MENTIONED
[He didn't want to.]
[The pins-and-needles feeling explodes out from that mantle across every single inch of his skin when fingers reach, catch, and press into the edges of his throat, and his breath catches in a gasp even before Kakashi moves them both. Rushes out when that slam crashes him into the wall, expels the breath from his lungs. He can feel the way it just, just struggles through his throat under that hard grip of fingers.]
[It takes a moment for the awareness of himself to return, for him to remember that he has more body than just the throat with the hand around it and the lungs that burn and the eyes that have Kakashi's gaze boring into them. He regains awareness of his legs first, of his inner thighs as Kakashi's leg presses between them in silent demand. He doesn't squirm. He doesn't protest. He just focuses, for that second, on the warm way his legs tingle at the touch and friction. He doesn't exactly spread his legs, but then again, Kakashi doesn't really have to use a lot of force to push until his knee meets the wall between Sasuke's thighs.]
[It takes him the longest time to remember his hands. He's all just breath and warm thighs and the beat of blood he can feel pulsing in his crotch in time with his heartbeat, throbbing just like the artery under Kakashi's thumb throbs, and fuck but he absolutely cannot wrench his gaze away from that look in Kakashi's eye. Can't slow down the breath that's now panting over parted lips as his periphery catches that smirk and he thinks he's got to be dreaming. He's got to be, except this is too real and the pounding of his blood under Kakashi's thumb (above his knee) is too intense. He's too hyperaware of the chakra thundering in the other's body, of the calluses scraping his throat in a way you wouldn't notice if you didn't know but they scream with the faint edge of lightning. He can almost feel the spark. Two fingers on his left hand twitch, responsive to that silent crackle that both definitely is there and certainly isn't, and it's only then that he remembers his hands, hanging useless at his sides. Palms press against the cool, imperfect paint of the wall. Grounding. Still basically useless even for that. He's not sure what else to do with them. His hands have always been for breaking, not holding. And if there's one thing he doesn't want to break, it's whatever this is. If there's one thing he doesn't want to do, it's to push Kakashi away.]
[Black tomoe spin out of suddenly red irises. Nothing else about Sasuke moves but his breath. He can't say a word, but his stillness speaks volumes. He denies nothing.]