☽ うちはサスケ Uchiha Sasuke ☾ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fantheflame) wrote2013-07-16 08:29 am
fantheflame) wrote2013-07-16 08:29 amIC Contact / Appointments: Luceti
[For messages, action threads, whatever IC content that don't need their own posts!]
fantheflame) wrote2013-07-16 08:29 am
no subject
It's a little too late for what ifs.
And here they are, and all Kakashi can hope is that one day, maybe Sasuke might be able to smile.
He'll take what he can now, and chuckles softly as he pulls his offending hand back. ]
Maa... I suppose I should say thank you, then.
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[What are you playing at?]
Thank me for what?
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[ Now he's really teasing.
Maybe.
There's a smile there, though, and Kakashi sips his tea slowly. Pointedly, through his mask. ]
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Don't even, [Sasuke snaps, that slight flush making itself known again. Glares at the other sidelong, as Kakashi sips, before scoffing and going back to staring at the scroll. Barely reading it, but just very much not looking at the other.]
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Alright, Sasuke, I hate to do this, but I should get going. I have to run a few more errands. But we should do this again sometime. [ Said as he gestures at the tea. ]
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Think we can get through tea without you being a smartass next time?
[Though for all that bluster, he still doesn't sound angry. And he's doing the polite host thing and following the other toward the door.]
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[ Kakashi's answer is, rather naturally, completely infuriating in its non-answer as he gives a slight shrug, glancing over his shoulder as he heads towards the door, passing under the archway leading into the hall to the doorway
and under a sprig of green he rather obliviously did not notice. It's then that he suddenly becomes highly aware of Sasuke's proximity to him, the soft footfalls of the boy's steps just behind. The way Sasuke shifts as he walks. The rustle of clothing against soft, pale skin with every movement.It's so sudden, this heightened awareness, that Kakashi's caught surprised, breath almost catching in his throat at the intensity of his awareness to Sasuke. And as his gaze sweeps over his shoulder to settle on Sasuke's face, he finds himself seeing Sasuke in a way he's never seen him before. His eye flows from Sasuke's elegantly upturned eyes, down over the tip of his nose. Settles somewhere around the cupid's bow of his soft, supple mouth, and then sweeps down the gentle curve of his throat which Kakashi suddenly wants to wrap his hand around if only to find out if Sasuke would let him, and feel the way his pulse jumps under his fingers.
Maybe Sasuke would like it if he did that.
Maybe he'd like it better if Kakashi kisses him, too. Devours that little smirk right off his face.
Suddenly, he doesn't want to leave anymore.
Kakashi abruptly stops. ]
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[He opens his mouth to chide Kakashi for the bullshit of his non-answer when Kakashi's stride wavers, and Sasuke nearly crashes into him. He has a little more grace than that, though, and checks himself, the note of his voice changing from exasperation to confusion -]
What are -
[When Kakashi turns his head to glance, and there's a look in his eye that shudders something deep to Sasuke's core. This time, he's the one that wavers, only a few steps behind the other. (Standing in the same spot Kakashi passed through just a moment before, under deep green leaves and plump white berries.)]
[For a moment, he's pinned by the way Kakashi stares. Until he realizes that Kakashi's eyes are moving down away from his, and he finds himself hyperaware that his sensei is giving him a once-over. Pins and needles race suddenly up his arms from the elbow, goosebumps trailing all the way up his shoulders and the back of his neck, the edge of his scalp. He's suddenly very aware of himself, in his own skin, and finds himself wondering what exactly Kakashi is looking at. Staring at. Examining.]
[He's half sure Kakashi's gaze lingers on his lips, and before he can process that consciously those lips have parted just enough to pull in a heavy breath.]
[He didn't realize he was still moving, slowly, keeping step with his sensei, until Kakashi stops, and Sasuke's steps fall still automatically. He's suddenly very aware that he's barefoot and wearing the closest thing he owns to pajamas. But he doesn't move. Doesn't speak. His eyes are still on Kakashi's eyes, watching the other watch him. He's not sure where or how to move. If he should move.]
[So he waits for Kakashi to move first.]
UHHH PROBABLY NSFW
(And maybe it's wrong, and maybe he shouldn't be having such thoughts about his student, but Kakashi's well past caring. Can't even begin to think about right or wrong when every part of him tells him that he needs to have him.)
In a sudden blur of motion, Kakashi has Sasuke by the base of the throat and slams him against the nearest wall, pinning him there with the weight of his body, one leg nudging to part both of Sasuke's. With the wide-eyed way Sasuke had looked, there was no denying what he read in the boy's eyes was as much desire as it was an invitation for Kakashi to do just what he's doing right now.
His grip on Sasuke's throat shifts from somewhat firm to deceptively gentle, thumb slowly stroking down over the roar of his carotid in almost a tender caress, the shadows of his mouth curved up in a vicious, vicious smirk under his mask.
As though inviting Sasuke to deny him this, when he knows it's what they both want. ]
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.]
YUP
The commas in Sasuke's eyes turn and Kakashi watches, considers the heat of the burn, just how good it's going to feel. It's a different kind of fire from the one he's accustomed to when it comes to Sasuke; a fire that burns hot, instead of cold, and Kakashi almost wishes it could always be like this. Thinks that maybe it can. And the madness of this, the rage, is the kind that has no name, the kind that doesn't reach for blades or vengeance, but for something else instead. Something that refastens strings cut long ago with Kakashi's fingers around Sasuke's throat.
He takes a moment to enjoy this, the staccato of Sasuke's pulse and the stutter of his breaths. The tremor in his thighs, and the twitch in his pants that Kakashi presses his knee against in a slow, deliberate rub. And then he leans in, the ridge of his masked nose brushing against Sasuke's.
For a moment he considers kissing him through the mask. Maintaining the illusion of control, of discipline.
But then Sasuke breathes out again, and it whispers across Kakashi's lips in quiet invitation. A breath, and Kakashi decides he won't be satisfied unless there is nothing between them. Won't be satisfied until he has Sasuke gasping against his mouth, and maybe then, he'll squeeze his fingers. Maybe then, he'll let Sasuke choke. Or maybe he'll wait until the very end, when Sasuke opens his mouth to scream Kakashi's name as he comes, but no sound comes out because he can't get in a single breath.
The thought alone makes Kakashi drag in a sharp, audible breath through his own nose as he breathes in the scent of Sasuke and then, in a single, fluid movement, he drags his mask down and crushes his mouth in a bruising kiss against Sasuke's. Stealing a kiss the way he steals his breath and vision with his other hand curling across Sasuke's eyes. ]
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[Of course there are other cues. The way Kakashi's fingers shift against his neck, pressing tendon and sinew in a way that makes the blood beat a little harder in Sasuke's veins, with just enough pressure to fuzz the faintest, faintest outline of purple at the lower corners of his vision. Or maybe that's just the edge of dizziness that comes when Kakashi's thigh presses in closer and strokes against his junk, pressing his balls up against his cock and making the latter twitch suddenly closer to firm, making the already labored breaths shudder over his lips. Gods.]
[But all of that is nothing compared to the anticipation.]
[The way those goosebumps standing up every single hair follicle tingle numb but sharp as Kakashi just watches him, sizes him up, promises and consideration in his gaze and Sasuke feels half like a priceless heirloom and half like a cut of meat. Those eyes tell him Kakashi knows exactly how to take care of him, and also that Kakashi's going to devour him whole. His eyes promise lips and teeth with an explicitness Sasuke didn't know was even possible. And all the time, that one thumb grazing over the pounding vessel of his blood screams danger and protection in a perfect, promised balance Sasuke has no idea how to combat. Not that he fears the threat - just that the threat is going to drive him mad the longer it goes unfulfilled.]
[It's not until Kakashi leans close enough for their noses to brush that Sasuke's eyes drop, from one grey eye to two covered lips, still curled into that smirk that's so, so much clearer through fabric at this distance. And still Kakashi holds off and the tenseness winding tighter and tighter in Sasuke's body threatens to snap. He doesn't fidget, doesn't actually let his body move with that instinct, but it's so tangible in the air and in his flesh and in his chakra that it barely matters that he holds himself still.]
[And then Kakashi inhales, and that control falters and it's barely a fraction of a millimeter in movement but Sasuke half squirms against the wall as fingers curl across his eyes. His heartbeat spikes instantly, the edge of instinctive panic towards blindness that he never has and doubts he ever will escape, but he barely has a moment to contemplate that before hot breath rushes against his, weight leans into and over him and his cock twitches hard (gains slow firmness and length) against the slight shift of thigh between his - and lips press so firmly to his that he barely has a chance to feel the way four lips meet and mold together before teeth are behind them and pinning his head back against the drywall, finally bringing that anticipation to a climax with such eagerness and force that Sasuke's not sure what direction his breath moves in: half sucking a gasp of still-disbelieving want out of the heat of Kakashi's mouth, half blowing a sigh of satisfied completion out through his nose. The pads of his fingers drag against the mottled surface of the paint as his fingers curl, and honest to the gods he sinks a quarter-inch against that wall as his knees turn to water. He suddenly doubts there was ever a time he didn't want this.]
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The weight of Sasuke's balls crushed against his thigh when his knees weaken and he drops down, the lovely feeling of his cock, hardening and lengthing and pressing just so, stirs something violent inside Kakashi. Makes his own arousal jump up, hard and fast. He pushes his clothed dick forward, pressing it against Sasuke's hip. Wanting Sasuke to know just what this is doing to him. That he wants this as bad as Sasuke, whose trembling pulse in his hand only makes him want to control it even more.
He tightens his grip on Sasuke's throat, pushing his hand up so it forces Sasuke's face up to him. Just enough pressure to make it a little hard to breathe. Enough pressure to remind Sasuke who's claiming him like this. And oh, does he want to claim Sasuke for himself. Make it so Sasuke belongs to him, and no one else. Burn himself into Sasuke with equal parts lightning and lust and make it so Sasuke will never think about leaving them (him) again because all Sasuke can think about is Kakashi's hand around his throat and his tongue in his mouth. Maybe if he's all Sasuke ever thinks about, Sasuke won't have space to consider anything else.
He grinds his hips forward, in equal rhythm with the press of his thigh, considering dragging his hand down from Sasuke's eyes to rip his pants open. He wants to feel Sasuke, hot and pulsing in his palm, feel the beat of his heart through his cock. Maybe even take it down his throat and watch Sasuke's shocked expression at the thought of his sensei sucking him off. Or maybe he'll just stand there with his hand around Sasuke's throat, watching him squirm as he just teases the tip, jerking him off far too slowly for it to be anything other than just the most pleasurable of tortures. Or maybe he'll do both, really take his time to enjoy this, enjoy the way Sasuke trembles underneath him, the way he gives himself up to Kakashi for the claiming, as though it's the only thing he's ever wanted.
As though it's all he's ever dreamed about. ]
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[Just like that press of Kakashi's hips to his jars him, Kakashi's cock pressing hard (hard) against his hip, and it's like striking himself with his own Chidori with the way that rips realization into him. This is real, and pressing heavy against his hip is the evidence that Kakashi wants it. That this isn't some test or hideous joke or whatever other bullshit excuse his brain has been scrambling to conjure up, because the fact that Kakashi not only wants to kiss him but wants to fuck him is twitching against him with so much heat he can feel the burn through the heavy fabric of Kakashi's pants and the flimsy knit of his own.]
[So his hips roll forward, what little they can under Kakashi's weight, grinding against that bulge to let Kakashi know he can feel it and he wants every filthy thing Kakashi could possibly do to him. That's the first thought when he moves, though the same motion drags his crotch up the curve of Kakashi's thigh, friction on his own junk, and he shudders with a breathless gasp into the kiss, blowing hot breath over Kakashi's lips when teeth bite down into his. He rocks again, grinding himself against Kakashi's thigh with a desperation he really, really does not want to examine.]
[He could blame hormones for this, the accursed sex drive he's always hated and tried to be rid of, the physicality alone and the weakness he has to touch. He knows he could. But fuck him, he doesn't even try.]
[Instead all he can focus on is the heat as bodies press close, and how that feels so much better than being cold and alone. How that lightning in Kakashi's hands is roaring a fire in him he thought had died years ago. How when Kakashi's fingers tighten and his pulse stutters, the only words he can think of are please and yes. Kakashi's hand right there, wrapped around breath and blood, holding Sasuke's very life in what is a gentle caress now compared to the fist he could make of it. In one motion Kakashi could crush the bloodflow until Sasuke's brain dies in his addled head, could crush his windpipe until Sasuke drowns on a lack of air, could snap his neck in an instant of pain chased immediately by black nothing. But he doesn't. And Sasuke knows he won't. Knows it with a certainty he's felt about few things in his life. Instead he just tilts Sasuke's head up so that Kakashi has a better angle to plunder his mouth; just squeezes enough to make purple spots dance in the black in front of his eyes, to make Sasuke gasp a little harder into the kiss and prove how much he wants this. Slows his blood just enough to intensify the throb in Sasuke's cock. It's walking an infinitesimal line between pleasure and death, and fuck, isn't that what shinobi life is? And if there's one person Sasuke thinks could do it to him and do it right, it's Kakashi. Just as long as Kakashi keeps fucking holding on, holds onto those threads and keeps Sasuke pinned right here and doesn't fucking (let) go.]
[And he's not. And with Kakashi's hands holding onto him, Sasuke forgets, for a moment, that his own hands are hands that break. Because a hand full of lightning is holding him pinned and pleasured and alive, more alive than he's been in more years than he can pin down, and all Sasuke can do is obey the instinct to hold on. To lift his hands to grip, and like any shinobi his ability to reach in and take and hold is deft. One hand means only to slide under the back of Kakashi's vest, but one finger catches the tail of his shirt and he takes every advantage, gliding fingers across bare skin and up Kakashi's spine until the rumple of vest stops the crook of his elbow, hand splayed on shoulder blade right above Kakashi's heart. It's his left hand, the one full of lightning, and that seems like a perfect balance to the one on his throat, and like Kakashi he just holds on, pulling the other close and refusing to let go. The other hand moves to close the circuit in a different way: while Sasuke can't see, it's too easy to find Kakashi's face pressed so close to his - to graze the heel of his palm briefly over sparse scruff he would never have pictured under that mask, and the tight angle of a very strong jaw - and drift down, running fingers much more delicately down the side of Kakashi's neck, and just hold there, heel against Kakashi's pulse and fingers wrapping back around to touch the column of Kakashi's spine. His grip is nowhere near as tight as the one on his throat. Because unlike Kakashi, with the proof that he could and only the promise that he won't, Sasuke's hold is proof and promise both in one. He won't. His fingers are right there, and he won't even pretend to tighten his grip. He'll just hold on, letting all the sparks fly between their dancing tongues and all the heat boil between hips arcing up against hips.]
1/2
Never knowing how to properly hold on until it was far too late.
He didn't know how he was supposed to be able to hold onto something precious when all he had ever done was break things. When his hands were made for killing, and not for wrapping around something or someone to hold onto. When holding on was as dangerous as the hope that promises he made were ones he could keep, when all he ever seemed good at doing was breaking them with a handful of lightning. Sometimes it was all he ever seemed to do: opening his hands and letting go.
Opening his hands and cutting through strings and turning his back and never looking back to the boy who needed him when he had no one else. The boy who now holds on tighter than he's ever held on before, and Kakashi thinks it's time. He's let go of Sasuke too many times. Thinks he can't, won't do it again when his letting go had led to Sasuke's footsteps in the rain that no amount of chasing could ever catch up to. Sasuke was always one step ahead and Kakashi was always too fucking late. Maybe this time, he's finally figured it out, how to make Sasuke stay, how to give Sasuke something to hold onto by learning how to hold on as well. Holding on, even if he knows how dangerous this is, with his mouth panting hungry and hot against Sasuke's when the boy drags his ass up the length of his thigh and Kakashi can feel the lovely softness of his balls and the hard bulge of his cock pressing, jumping against thin fabric as Sasuke ruts himself hungrily, grinds his hip against Kakashi's dick. The hard ridge of his hip gives just enough friction to make Kakashi that much harder, make his own hips move back in return in a sharp undulation.
He tries not think about how Sasuke knows how to do any of this. Tries not to consider that this is kiss is anything but inexperienced and uncertain, that Sasuke's movements speak volumes to where he's been all these years. Tries not to think about who else has been here, kissing Sasuke like this, doing this to him, and instead just focuses on the way Sasuke's hand sweeps up his back, as though he's counting every divot of spine in an attempt to understand Kakashi a little better. Maybe if he understands what's under his skin, he'll be able to figure him out. To know him the way no one else does. Why he hides under a mask instead of his own skin like everyone else.
His pulse jumps under the press of Sasuke's hand against his throat, and his tongue is as vicious as his teeth as they crush down on Sasuke's lower lip -- hard enough for it to hurt just right, but not deep enough to draw the taste of copper. Just enough to reassert his dominance, to remind Sasuke who's kissing him, as he sweeps his tongue back out to soothe the hurt and tightens his hand around Sasuke's throat once more. Just a little more pressure to make it harder to breathe. A little more pressure to make him choke as Kakashi's thigh presses hard against Sasuke's dick, encouraging him to ride his thigh a little harder. He doesn't want anyone touching Sasuke like this again. Doesn't want anyone to know how Sasuke's heart feels as it trembles under his hand, how Sasuke willingly offers up his life to Kakashi to crush or to hold. How Sasuke's breath sounds when it hitches in his throat. Sasuke's breath which might as well be Kakashi's now, because he'll claim it the way he's claiming Sasuke with his plundering mouth. Claiming Sasuke the only way he knows how.
With equal parts violence and love and need and hope.
Even now, Sasuke's still holding back parts of himself, still keeping his control carefully wound. Giving into this dance, into this kiss, pressing his throat into Kakashi's hand. But he hasn't given all of himself just yet. He's still holding onto the parts of him that he's afraid to show, swallowing it down the way he swallows down moans, but Kakashi wants more. Wants to hear him as much as he wants to taste him, see all the parts of him Sasuke's still holding back. Maybe he fucks him hard enough, Sasuke will forget himself and come undone, scream himself hoarse.
Maybe then he'll see him.
All of him.
He breaks the kiss with a ragged breath with every intention of teasing, with words on the tip of his tongue and a smirk that drags up the scarred corner of his mouth that are meant to get under Sasuke's skin just enough. Insist that, really, Sasuke, you need to stop holding back. ]
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A ragged, sharp gasp, half-aborted, almost painful, chokes its way past his mouth and Kakashi rips himself away from Sasuke in a frantic jerk, taking a hard step, then two back as he yanks his mask back up over his face. For a moment, he just stares at Sasuke in quiet horror, eye roaming over the boy's disheveled state, the red marks on the pale column of his throat that will absolutely turn into bruises, and it's like a hand of lightning through the chest all over again. A hand of lightning and Kakashi breaking promises to protect the things that are most precious, breaking promises because it's what he does. Breaking promises like he breaks people and ends lives and fucks up in ways that are unforgivable.
He can't even meet Sasuke's eyes, can't bring himself to see the betrayal, disappointment, shock. Doesn't know what the fuck came over him to make him do what he just did, or why Sasuke was so receptive when it was so wrong, and surely, it wasn't what Sasuke really wanted, no. Couldn't be, when Sasuke is only seventeen fucking years old and Kakashi is his superior in every way, and even if Kakashi is no stranger to this sort of arrangement, he had taken advantage of Sasuke's trust in him in the worst possible way.
He can't be here right now.
He can't be standing here when he clearly can't even trust himself with Sasuke, can't trust that he won't just lose his self-control and go after Sasuke again when Sasuke is vulnerable and what he needed was a friend, a sensei, not another older man trying to manipulate and control him and fuck him and (no, don't go there, Kakashi doesn't even want to think back to just how experienced Sasuke was, doesn't want to think about who it was that gave him that experience because to think it will destroy him and he's already destroyed too much) he turns on his heel and in a flash, he's out the fucking door. ]
1/3
But this? This is by choice.
By choice, he's holding on with both hands. Letting himself become lost in this, lost in breath and heat and touch and closeness that transcends the tangible. And it's terrifying, letting anyone in, letting Kakashi push until he's practically climbed inside Sasuke's soul. Climbed halfway inside his body, starting from his mouth and promising more if Sasuke will let him.
And Sasuke wants to let him. He's tired of being afraid.
He's spent most of his life being afraid. Afraid of the expected things - pain and death and loss and failure. Especially failure. And afraid, more than all these things (maybe more than all of them combined) of not being good enough. Not just to win, to meet his goals, but for anything. Not being good enough to hold on, to deserve to hold onto something with both hands. Something he wants himself, instead of just being told - telling himself - that he wants it. He wants this. Five minutes ago it wouldn't have been something he'd be willing to let himself want. To dare to think he was good enough. But the way Kakashi holds on... the way Kakashi touches him, kisses him, presses his fingers and tongue and cock into him in ways that promise more if Sasuke only wants it -
He thinks maybe Kakashi thinks he's good enough.
Thinks, for the first time, that maybe Kakashi believes that, that it's not just pretty words meant to hold Sasuke still.
So when that hand tightens down on his throat, the catch of his breath is sharp, very audible. A quiet choke of air made louder by the fact that his breath already struggles before it's cut off, shuddering with the intensity of sensation and pleasure and need and quiet, tentative acceptance.
He accepts the choking off of his air as readily as the rest - perhaps more so, because that at least is something he already knows. Something familiar. He expects - revels in - the way it sharpens sensation, intensifying the throb of pain in his lip (the throb of need in his cock), pulse struggling with heavier pumps of blood. He's done this before. Has had it done to him. What's new is the certainty that Kakashi wouldn't be doing this if Sasuke had protested. The way he's paused at every step to see if Sasuke would struggle instead of pressing his throat against the other's palm. The fact - the fact - that this is because Sasuke wants this, as much as because Kakashi does. And fuck him, but that only makes him hold on tighter.
Makes him kiss with more fervor, tongue heavy and slow and pressing and tangling; makes his fingers curl in to drag light scratches along Kakashi's nape. Makes him take that invitation and undulate against the wall, pressing his whole self close to the other as much as riding the other's thigh between his legs.
And when Kakashi pulls back, even with the hand blocking his sight, Sasuke's eyes blink open to search. And there's a sliver, not much of a space between Kakashi's fingers but more than enough for Sharingan. And through it, Sasuke catches Kakashi's chin and the very edge of lips quirked into a velvet, predatory smirk. The shudder underneath Kakashi's fingers would be a moan if Sasuke could get the breath to voice it.
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.
3/3
It feels like days. It could very well be no time at all.
He isn't sure if he heard the door slam shut with the finality of a tomb - shaking the wall and his brace of weight against it - or if he imagined it. If that started the quake in his legs or if it came entirely from within.
It doesn't matter that his Sharingan are still active. He doesn't see the world spin. Doesn't see anything until his face is a foot from the carpet and the scrape of burns on his elbows and knees and the heels of his hands is the first sensation that penetrates the vast, empty numb. He has to wonder how he moved. He doesn't remember falling. It takes several moments before he notices the carpet going blurry, then coming back into sharp focus every few seconds. His Sharingan are strobing on and off. He still has to reach out and take stock before he can feel the burning in his chest. He's not sure if he's hyperventilating or not breathing at all. He can't remember feeling air really fill his lungs since there were fingers bearing down into the flesh of his neck.
He's panicking. And it's only consciously realizing this that makes his brain click onto why.
And now there's not a single thought he can form outside the look of horror on Kakashi's face, crystal-clear in Sharingan-perfect memory, preserved forever in his head.
Sasuke's whole body heaves.
His eyes slam shut, but closing them only serves to remove the veneer of carpet grains millimeters from his eyes. (The surface is rough on his forehead but he can't pick out the discomfort.) It just makes the picture of Kakashi clearer in the black behind his eyelids. Horrified at what he'd done. Disgusted. With Sasuke (stupid, easy, slut), or with himself (didn't want it, doesn't know what came over him, why the hell would he want you).
And he's not even here. Couldn't look at Sasuke straight. Couldn't stand to be in the same room with him (building, maybe; village, continent, planet), and why would he, really? What the fuck is Sasuke but a stupid seventeen-year-old brat with a hero complex ("avenger," ha) that he fucks up at absolutely every turn (you tried to kill him; why would he want anything to do with you?)
He doesn't even need Kakashi to touch him. He doesn't. He wanted it, fuck of course he wanted it but that was because he thought Kakashi wanted it too. But he can pack that away. He can pack that away and pretend this never happened (he doesn't even know where any of this came from) if it means Kakashi will look him in the fucking eye again (not that he deserves it).
There's a pain in his scalp from how hard Sasuke's fingers are tugging in his hair, both hands balled into fists close to the root, but at least that's sensory input that isn't Kakashi's horrified (disgusted, disappointed, of course you're not fucking good enough for this) face that he can't even look at directly because Kakashi left.
Again.
A rough noise cracks out of Sasuke's throat with the next heave. He grits his teeth and tries not to let himself think that it sounded like a sob.
At least Kakashi could have had the fucking decency to tie him to something this time, too, so he'd have some kind of external resistance to shaking apart.
1/2
There’s a fist in his chest wrapped tight around his lungs, and he's breathing too fast and too hard, and doesn’t even feel it until the dizziness hits him like a punch to the temple, vision flashing black in a vertiginous stutter. He catches himself, eye falling shut against the sudden lurch of the world around him -- which turns out to be the worst possible thing he could have done, because the moment his eye shuts, all he can see is Sasuke, who is still sharp on his tongue and in his nose, and every time he inhales or swallows hard past the unbearable knot in his throat, Sasuke is all he can smell and taste. And when he opens his mouth to suck in a breath and his lips rub against the mask, he can feel, far too acutely, the soft crush of Sasuke's mouth against his own, the slick of his tongue and the ridges of his teeth. How fucking good it felt, and how sure he wanted it at that very moment.
It terrifies him. That whatever it was which had come over him in that moment, whatever it was that made him decide it was a good idea to shove his student against the wall with a hand around the throat and encourage him to rut against his thigh with every intent of fucking him, was something that he didn't even consider might have been wrong. That somehow, in a fit of lust-induced blindness, he didn't stop to think that maybe he needed to stop. That what he was doing to Sasuke wasn't what Sasuke actually wanted, despite how Sasuke physically responded.
He doesn't even know why he felt the urge to do what he did, how such an intense need could have suddenly risen out of nowhere, when he'd never once thought about Sasuke in that way. Never once considered the possibility of kissing him, let alone having every intent of fucking him, when he'd never once looked at Sasuke in that way. (And now that he's seen it, he can't unsee it -- can't forget the split second before reality shot through him when he looked at Sasuke, with his lips ruddy and red and panting and his entire body a wave of undulating desire, and thought that he was beautiful. That he wanted to have him, claim him as his own.)
He tells himself it's because of Sasuke's age, but he knows that isn't true, because Kakashi was barely even sixteen when he found himself face down in the middle of a field after a mission with a hand around the back of his neck and the earth pulsing below him each time he was split apart by what fucked him. Pleasure then was only as good as the pain, and it didn’t matter that the man was at least twice his age and didn’t even have a name or face, because when you do not exist in the first place, and are not sure if you’re even still human, who fucks you isn’t as important as the act itself that reminds you how to feel. That reminds you that you even can.
So it has nothing to do with Sasuke's age at all, and everything to do with the fact that they are student and teacher, and always will be, even if Sasuke denies him, denies Team 7. And that bond is one of the only things Kakashi holds sacred in a world where nothing else is.
Sasuke had trusted him, or was starting to trust him again, and this is how he decided to abuse that trust -- that sacred thing he'd fought for, would have even been willing to die for -- with a hand around the throat and a hungry, devouring mouth.
What the fuck was he even thinking, when Sasuke never asked for (or wanted or needed and certainly couldn't have desired) any of that?
He doesn't think he can ever forgive himself.
Doesn't know if Sasuke can ever forgive him (not that he deserves it).
Clearly, he can't be trusted around him, can't be allowed to be alone with him, can't ever--
(In the midst of the storm, a sudden, intense rush. A surge of panic stronger than any wave crashing over and taking down a sea wall, flooding through his body in an inundation of crystal clear horror that he'd gone and done it again. Cut right through the strings and turned his back and walked out on Sasuke again.)
His eye snaps open and the world floods back, the air rushing into his lungs in a sudden, sharp inhale as his entire body straightens up. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes that he'd been standing out there in the hallway, trying to get his shit together -- trying to collect himself long enough so he can leave the building and leave Sasuke behind.
Like he'd left him behind before -- turning his back and letting go when he told himself he'd never let go again.
When letting go was what had led Sasuke to leave the first time.
All Kakashi can feel is the wildness of the surge that screams fuck no in his chest and throat, and he turns, heading right back for the very door he'd slammed behind him just a few moments ago. Because fuck if he's going to allow this to happen again -- if he's going to walk out on Sasuke and leave him the way he left him four years ago. And even if he doesn't know if he can trust himself around Sasuke right now, he can't just leave him, can't run out on him. Won't.
Sasuke can hate him, deny him forgiveness, and maybe it’s what Kakashi deserves.
But he won’t walk away from this. Won’t turn his back this time.
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Then he lets himself through it. It’s a little like walking against the gale force winds of a great storm, just getting his foot back in there, when the part of himself that protects him from irreparable harm, the part that keeps him alive, tells him to run. Tells him he shouldn’t even bother trying when what he’s done is break something that was barely mended, and the break goes too deep. That nothing he can do, nothing he can possibly say, will make this better. Will fix the break he created with a hungry mouth and roaming hands.
But that part is not as loud as the thing inside him that tells him he can’t give up this time, and the moment he lays his eye on Sasuke, who is on his knees, bowled over with his hands in his hair, small and vulnerable and broken, any shred of hope he might have still had that maybe he might somehow make this right, evaporates. He knows then that he doesn’t need to be forgiven, that he can withstand Sasuke’s anger, his hatred, that it’s what he deserves for hurting Sasuke like this.
(He should go. He should remove himself immediately from Sasuke’s proximity and never set foot near him again. He shouldn’t be here right now. He’s only going to fuck this up, like he fucks up everything else, and this is a terrible, terrible idea.)
Sasuke’s breath comes out ragged and harsh and desperate and Kakashi knows what this is. Has heard Sasuke breathe like this before long ago when nightmare bled into reality and blood was all Sasuke could see through the cracks of fingers Itachi held over his eyes like wool. If this continues, Sasuke will hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness, and maybe that’d be a mercy, not having to be conscious enough to face the reality of what Kakashi did. Maybe that’d be better than having to actually face him.
Kakashi stares down at Sasuke, torn between leaving and staying, not trusting himself enough to come any closer than where he now stands in the hallway. He shouldn’t even think about touching him, even if it’s what he would have done even just an hour ago, but he doesn’t know if his voice will reach him. If Sasuke will even hear that he’s there or think he’s imagining it without the physical touch to confirm it.
“Sasuke... Breathe slowly.”
It’s not at all what he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize, to tell Sasuke how sorry he was, that he shouldn’t have done it, that he didn’t know what made him do it. That if Sasuke never wants to see him again, he’ll accept it -- but at least he hasn’t run out on him again.
At least he’s still here.
Still trying to make this right.
Even if it might never be right again.