But then Kakashi rears back further, and instead all Sasuke sees is a cloth-covered throat, Adam's apple pronounced but dead-still under the crumple of pushed-down fabric, as still as though Kakashi was the one being held down without air.
The choking noise in the gasp that follows hits Sasuke like a blade.
He barely feels it as Kakashi drags himself back, rips himself away as though he's on fire. (As though Sasuke is covered in acid or boils or thick tangles of three-leaved ivy and Kakashi can feel his skin starting to blister or crawl or burn with the itch of poison.) Sasuke's grip isn't broken so much as slipped out of as from so much cut rope, hands limp and unfeeling. They linger in the air just a moment before falling to his sides, useless. Neither able nor worthy of holding on, not with that note of horror in Kakashi's voice.
Everything is numb.
It takes him a moment to even realize Kakashi's staring at him, and it's only that which rushes sensation back into clammy skin in a wave of crawling discomfort. He can suddenly feel himself so acutely he can practically see himself, the way Kakashi must see him. Disheveled, sullied, with spit gleaming on bitten lips and bruises blooming on his willing (whore) neck. With a telltale bulge clear in what must be vivid detail through the thin knit of his pants, legs canted half apart putting it further on display. The crawling intensifies on the backs of his hands, and for the second time today they press hard palm-first to the wall, fingers curling hard enough for nails to bite into drywall.
And still, underneath the mounting, yawning horror opening up in the bottom of his gut, Sasuke still dares to hope he heard that noise wrong. That he's misreading the look on the other's face in his own dizzied state. To pray (he doesn't pray but he will take it if anything is listening) that sound wasn't horror.
2/3
The choking noise in the gasp that follows hits Sasuke like a blade.
He barely feels it as Kakashi drags himself back, rips himself away as though he's on fire. (As though Sasuke is covered in acid or boils or thick tangles of three-leaved ivy and Kakashi can feel his skin starting to blister or crawl or burn with the itch of poison.) Sasuke's grip isn't broken so much as slipped out of as from so much cut rope, hands limp and unfeeling. They linger in the air just a moment before falling to his sides, useless. Neither able nor worthy of holding on, not with that note of horror in Kakashi's voice.
Everything is numb.
It takes him a moment to even realize Kakashi's staring at him, and it's only that which rushes sensation back into clammy skin in a wave of crawling discomfort. He can suddenly feel himself so acutely he can practically see himself, the way Kakashi must see him. Disheveled, sullied, with spit gleaming on bitten lips and bruises blooming on his willing (whore) neck. With a telltale bulge clear in what must be vivid detail through the thin knit of his pants, legs canted half apart putting it further on display. The crawling intensifies on the backs of his hands, and for the second time today they press hard palm-first to the wall, fingers curling hard enough for nails to bite into drywall.
And still, underneath the mounting, yawning horror opening up in the bottom of his gut, Sasuke still dares to hope he heard that noise wrong. That he's misreading the look on the other's face in his own dizzied state. To pray (he doesn't pray but he will take it if anything is listening) that sound wasn't horror.
Wasn't revulsion.
And then Kakashi runs.