☽ 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
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.
no subject
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.