The entrance to the club was hidden down an alley between a ramen bar and a bookstore. Isaka followed Usami, still skeptical that the younger man knew where they were going. About halfway down the alleyway stood a door, sunken below the street with a short cement stairwell leading down to it. There was no sign on the door. Usami confidently descended down the stairs and knocked on the door, rapping his hand twice on the door, pausing, then knocking once more.

There was a faint grating sound and then the door pulled open, revealing a dimly lit hallway painted in a deep purplish red. A burly, bald man blocked their way. Usami smiled easily at the man and handed him a card. Isaka watched the entire exchange curiously, wondering, not for the first time, how he’d let Usami talk him into this. After a short moment the bald man grunted slightly and stepped aside. He followed Usami in.

A thin man leaned over a counter ahead of them, smiling at them as they approached. He took their coats without a word, then wished them a pleasant visit as they ventured further into the building. The hall opened into a large room. He noticed the furniture first – a few small tables set around the edge of the room, a handful of chairs, and a number of couches, some with backs, most without. All of the furniture followed a theme, plump red leather for the seating, dark wood for the surfaces.

Then he noticed the peopled. The room was littered with men, not heavily crowded but still amply full. Some were dressed like they were in business casual dress. Others were dressed as if they were hitting the clubs, with tight shirts and tighter pants and not a whole lot of fabric between. The rest, the majority, wore considerably less and were rather distracted, tangled up intimately with another patron, sometimes several patrons.

Isaka forced himself not to blush. He’d known what he was walking into when he agreed to come.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, he didn’t really mind the displays that were going on. They set the mood. A small shiver of pleasure ran through him as he thought about being one of the men watched so intently.

“See anything you like?” Usami asked softly.

Isaka blinked. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, still caught up in the reality of being in the club.

“Not yet.”

Usami ran his gaze over the room. He stopped at a small stand of couches near the corner of the room. It was mostly deserted, save for a blonde businessman and a young boy who looked incredibly nervous and kept fidgeting in his chair. They sat at either ends of the area, obviously not together and not paying attention to each other. The boy was getting a number of interested looks, but he seemed oblivious to them. Usami’s eyes fixed on the boy. Isaka found his gaze turning with interest to the blonde man.

He smiled. “Great minds think alike.”

They approached the couches together and branched off, Usami heading towards the boy in the chair and Isaka heading towards the couch.

He grinned slightly as he dropped onto the couch beside the blonde man, seating himself facing the man with his arm over the back. The blonde turned. His eyes roved over Isaka with growing interest.

Isaka relaxed against the back of the couch. “Hi.”

The blonde smiled back at him. “Hi. I’m Asahina.”

“Isaka,” he said as he shifted to straddle Asahina’s lap.

Hands settled on his waist, holding him steady as he leaned in. His lips covered Asahina’s. He had a brief moment of control before the other took over, sliding his tongue into Isaka’s mouth.

He no longer had any doubts about coming to the club.

*****

Usami felt like a cat that had cornered a mouse. He smirked as he circled the chair, reveling in the envious looks that the other men shot him. The boy was greatly desired among the crowd but none had yet stepped forward to meet him. Their loss was his gain.

“Hello,” he said as he came to a halt in front of the boy.

Wide brown eyes turned up to meet his. The boy smiled nervously. Usami dropped to his knees to put them on a more equal eye level. He set his hands lightly on the boy’s knees. The boy blushed but didn’t move Usami’s hands.

“I’m Usami Akihiko, and you are…?”

“Misaki. Takahashi Misaki.”

Something about the name sounded familiar but he decided not to dwell on it at the moment.

He started to move his hands up and down Misaki’s thighs. The boy blushed and shivered slightly. It was far too endearing.

“Is this your first time here, Misaki-chan?”

Misaki’s face flushed hotly. “Don’t call me ‘chan’.”

“Misaki-kun?”

The boy didn’t say anything. He stared down at Usami’s hands as they moved up to his waist. Usami fingered the hem of Misaki’s t-shirt.

“Can I kiss you?”

Misaki stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding hesitantly.

He leaned in slowly. The boy wasn’t a mouse, he was a rabbit, ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger. Usami touched his lips lightly against Misaki’s. The boy didn’t retreat, but he didn’t kiss back either. He leaned back. Misaki stared at him, his blush still bright on his cheeks. Usami smiled, trying to convey reassurance, and leaned in again, kissing Misaki with more force. The boy responded, opening up his lips as Usami pressed his tongue between them and moaning slightly as Usami invaded his mouth. He slipped his hands under Misaki’s shirt, pressing his palms against smooth flesh.

Finally, he was making progress.

*****

Isaka’s shirt had disappeared somewhere. He neither knew nor cared and was in the process of making Asahina’s do a similar disappearing act. Asahina’s hands were busy unfastening Isaka’s pants. The shirt came away easily in his hands. He tossed it over the back of the couch and pulled away with a grin. He could feel Asahina’s erection pressing against his pants and he planned to do something about it.

A wide grin spread across his face as he slid down onto his knees. Asahina spread his knees apart to make room for Isaka on the floor. He looked up at Asahina and licked his lips. His hands made quick work of the opening of Asahina’s pants. A small shiver of excitement ran through him as he felt the hot flesh inside for the first time. Wrapping his fingers around Asahina’s erection, he pulled the flesh free. Asahina was watching him intently as he leaned forward.

His tongue stretched forward to lap at the head of Asahina’s erection, licking up a small drop of precum. The taste of salt on his tongue only made him want more. He lowered his head to lick a trail up from the base of Asahina’s cock and swirl his tongue around the head. The low moan that Asahina made was all the encouragement he needed.

He closed his mouth around Asahina, sliding down until the head of Asahina’s erection brushed the back of his throat. Fingers combed through his hair, holding his head lightly. He pressed his tongue against the edge of Asahina’s erection as he pulled back up until the head was barely in his mouth. His tongue lapped against the head like it was a lollipop before he slid back down, building up a slow rhythm. His hand circled the base of Asahina’s cock, stroking the small section of flesh that his mouth couldn’t reach, moving up and down in time with his mouth.

The flesh in his mouth hardened in his mouth, turning from half-hard to fully erect. He wanted more. He wanted to taste more, touch more, feel more. Apparently Asahina had the same idea. One of the hands in his hair tightened and tugged lightly, urging him to pull back. Asahina helped him stand and then stripped Isaka of his pants.

More than just Asahina’s eyes were on him. He looked up to see that they’d gathered the attention of several of the unoccupied patrons of the club. Then Asahina was laying back on the couch and pulling Isaka on top of him, and he forgot all about the other patrons. His face was aligned with Asahina’s erection. He felt a tongue lightly touch against his own.

“I believe once act of service merits service in return, stranger.”

Isaka smiled and didn’t complain. He lowered his mouth back onto Asahina, moaning as Asahina mirrored his actions. Asahina’s fingers dug into Isaka’s hips, holding him still. It had been a while since another man had gone down on him, but Isaka found the experience better than he remembered it being. Asahina’s hips rolled up into his mouth, not hard enough to choke him, but enough to encourage him into a rhythm. He couldn’t stop making noises of pleasure, groaning low in the back of his throat each time Asahina’s mouth sucked tightly against his flesh.

He heard the sound of glass clinking and felt Asahina shift against him. There was a small table set at the side of the couch, and a larger coffee table in the center of the area. He remembered seeing a few covered jars and pots, as well as bowls of condoms and lube packets. He didn’t have long to wonder about the sound before Asahina’s fingers were pressing against his entrance. His whimper was muffled by Asahina’s cock. He spread his legs slightly wider in invitation.

Slick fingers pressed against him. He hadn’t had anyone inside of him recently but it still felt wonderful when two of Asahina’s fingers slid knuckle-deep inside of him, slightly painful but the pain was worth it. The flesh in his mouth was a welcome distraction and he turned his focus on it. His body relaxed around the fingers. Another pushed in alongside the first two. Asahina moved them slowly, mimicking the slow bob of Isaka’s mouth. After a few minutes he started to spread his fingers, stretching Isaka’s insides.

It was too much for him. He whimpered slightly and clenched his fingers in the couch cushions. It didn’t help. He gasped as he came into Asahina’s mouth. The blonde swallowed around him, making Isaka squirm against Asahina’s fingers. They both pulled their mouths away. Isaka gasped for breath and rested his forehead against Asahina’s knee.

Asahina turned him until they were face to face. He was smiling, his hands still possessively clutching Isaka’s ass. Isaka leaned down to kiss the blonde deeply. He tasted his come on Asahina’s lips and loved it.

A loud moan brought their attention to the other side of the coffee table.

*****

Usami smiled as he heard wet, slurping noises behind him. He turned to glance at the pair on the couch. Isaka looked like he was having fun. Usami turned back. Misaki’s gaze was momentarily fixed on the couple. He smiled and shifted his hands towards Misaki’s fly.

“Would you like that, Misaki-kun? Do you want me to do to you what Isaka-san is doing?”

The boy’s eyes went wide. “W-what?”

His grin widened as he unbuttoned the boy’s jeans. He pulled the zipper down and slid his hand inside. Misaki jumped.

“U-usami-san…”

He wrapped his hand around Misaki’s penis and pulled it out into the air. Misaki’s hands grabbed onto Usami’s but there was no force behind his grip. He took that as a sign of encouragement. Leaning forward, he lightly kissed the head of Misaki’s cock. The boy was barely erect but Usami planned to change that. He stroked slowly, gradually increasing the speed as Misaki thickened in his hand. Usami lowered his mouth and quickly swallowed Misaki down to the base.

“Ah! Usami-san!”

He teased Misaki, using fingers and tongue and wet suction to make the boy writhe with pleasure. Misaki moaned prettily. The sound only made Usami want to do more. He felt himself hardening in response. Just his mouth wasn’t going to be enough.

Misaki sighed as Usami pulled back and melted against the chair. Inwardly, Usami reveled at the thought of winding Misaki up further. He wrapped an arm around Misaki’s waist and pulled until Misaki was sliding off the chair and into his lap with a startled shout. Misaki’s shirt was quickly peeled off and then Usami turned him, pushing Misaki face down over the coffee table.

“Usami-san, what…?”

Between Isaka and himself they’d attracted quite a lot of attention. Several of the men stared at Usami with envy as he pulled Misaki’s pants down and opened his own, letting the fabric pool around their knees. He grabbed one of the lube packets from the bowl on the table and tore it open with his teeth. The liquid spilled out onto his hand. He coated his erection liberally with lube.

“Have you ever done this before?”

Misaki shook his head quickly. His hands curled around the edges of the table. Slowly, Usami pushed a finger into the boy. Misaki tensed around him. Usami used his free hand to distract the boy, rubbing slow circles against his lower back and then running over his sides and around to his chest. His hand curled around Misaki’s erection, causing the boy to gasp and relax. Usami moved his finger and his hand in time, keeping the pace slow. Misaki was breathing heavily, panting slightly and whimpering every couple of seconds. He pushed another finger inside and grinned as he felt Misaki’s body tense again. He didn’t stop moving his hand as Misaki came with a loud moan.

Isaka seemed to have come already as well. He lazily broke off a kiss with the blonde and they both turned as Misaki moaned. Usami smiled at his friend as he grabbed Misaki’s hips and pushed inside, causing the boy to shout loudly. His hands tightened against the table but he pushed back against Usami with another moan. They were definitely attracting a crowd. A few men were drifting towards them, forming a loose circle around them.

Usami didn’t mind being a bit of a showman. He started to thrust into Misaki, drawing more delectable noises from the boy. Misaki felt amazingly tight around him but he kept control of his emotions. He wanted this to last for a while. He’d give the crowd a good show.

*****

Asahina’s hands wandered across his skin as they watched Usami teasing the boy. Isaka smiled back as Usami grinned across at him. It was a little weird watching his friend like this but he found himself strangely okay with it. After all, Usami and countless others had just watched him suck off a stranger. Judging from the direction Asahina’s hand was travelling, his night was far from over.

“You okay?” Asahina asked softly.

He turned away from Usami and smiled down at the blonde. “Yeah.”

Asahina rolled them until Isaka was underneath him. The blonde leaned back and knelt between Isaka’s legs. He pressed his feet against the cushions and lifted his hips as Asahina grabbed him around the waist. His back arched and he rolled his head back as Asahina pushed inside him. His moan echoed the boy’s for volume.

As his eyes opened he finally caught sight of the crowd around them. There was a thickening circle of people surrounding their little area, and they seemed to be equally interested in Isaka and Asahina as they were Usami and the boy. Several of the men raked their eyes over Isaka’s naked body with a hungry look. More than a few had their pants open, dicks in hand.

He turned away from the crowd and writhed in pleasure as Asahina moved inside of him. Belatedly, he realized that Asahina had arranged them like this on purpose. Their bodies were entirely exposed, leaving nothing obscured as Asahina fucked him. Asahina’s pace was steady, not too fast, not too hard. It was driving Isaka insane, too much and not enough all at the same time. He could feel the faint stirrings of pleasure building in his stomach. If Asahina kept this up, he’d be in danger of coming again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Usami moving, pulling the boy back onto the chair with him but his attention was focused entirely on Asahina. The blonde was watching him, his eyes locking Isaka’s in their gaze. Asahina’s hands shifted, sliding down to his knees and then lifting them. Isaka cried out as his legs were lifted over Asahina’s shoulders, changing the angle that Asahina was thrusting into him. Each downward thrust rubbed against Isaka’s prostate, sending bolts of pleasure through his body. He trembled and grabbed onto the arm of the couch.

“Asahina,” he gasped.

The blonde smiled and held Isaka’s hips tightly.

He couldn’t hold Asahina’s gaze anymore. It was too much. His head rolled frantically against the couch and he moaned wantonly, his breaths coming out as harsh pants. He could feel his erection stirring. Asahina’s hips sped up, gradually striking into him harder and faster. He was going to come again. It was building inside of him, as inevitable and overwhelming as an avalanche. The room fell away until everything, all he knew was Asahina’s intent eyes and the relentless thrusting inside of him.

Asahina came first. The blonde gasped softly and then there was warm liquid spilling from inside of Isaka. He whimpered, but didn’t have long to wait as Asahina’s hand closed around his erection, stroking him quickly towards completion. His voice was obscenely loud as he came. His back arched off of the couch and he froze that way as release rocked through him, suspended midair for what seemed like eternity.

Gentle hands lowered his legs back to the cushions. He felt loose and boneless, too gone with pleasure to really care what happened to him after this. Asahina pulled him up until he was leaning against Asahina’s chest, his head against the blonde’s neck, with Asahina still inside of him. The blonde’s lips pressed against his neck, moving down until he captured Isaka in a leisurely kiss.

He didn’t ever want to move.

*****

Usami watched with interest as the blonde man pushed into Isaka and started to thrust into him. Misaki was oblivious, his head down, body trembling. Usami’s hips moved on automatic as he watched Isaka. He could use this for his novel. That had been the original idea. He’d wanted to come here for research and then talked Isaka into accompanying him. His friend really needed to get laid and Usami considered that a mission well accomplished. He had a feeling Isaka would be thanking Usami for talking him into coming.

Misaki was pushing back against him, matching Usami’s thrusts. Something about the position didn’t seem quite right to Usami. Most of the boy’s body was hidden, draped over the table or hidden between it and Usami’s body. He wrapped his arms around Misaki’s chest and pulled back. Misaki gasped loudly as Usami sat on the chair. The boy’s head rolled back against Usami’s shoulder, his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

He wriggled slightly, eliciting a delectable series of noises from Misaki as he pushed his own pants off and then lifted Misaki’s legs to pull his pants off, leaving the boy naked and exposed in his lap. He hooked Misaki’s legs over the arms of the chair, spreading his legs wide. Several of the watching crowd turned their eyes down towards Misaki’s hips, focusing on the point where Usami’s erection was buried inside of the boy.

Slowly, he started to move Misaki again. His hands gripped the boy tightly by the hips and lifted him enough that he could start to move his hips again. Hands and hips moved together, building back towards a pounding rhythm that had Misaki trembling against him. The boy’s hands gripped the edges of the chair. His head fell forward and then he started moving, shifting his legs slightly so that he could help Usami move Misaki’s body up and down.

He watched the boy eagerly, intrigued by the varied and often intense responses the boy had. His erection was already starting to return, pink flesh lifting to stand erect, bouncing lightly against his chest. He reached around and began stroking, grinning as Misaki gasped. The boy started speaking, repeating Usami’s name over and over again like an erotic mantra. He started to slam his hips up harder, delighting in the way it made Misaki’s breath hitch.

Misaki screamed Usami’s name as he came a second time, tensing for a short moment and then collapsing bonelessly into Usami’s lap. He slid his hand back to Misaki’s hips and kept moving, still slamming into the boy for a few more minutes until he came as well. Judging by the expressions of some of their audience, he wasn’t the only one.

His arms wrapped around Misaki’s chest, but that was the most he moved them. He didn’t want to take Misaki off of display just yet.

The boy’s head turned towards him and he leaned down to pull Misaki into a deep kiss. Across from them, Isaka seemed to be doing the same as he sat in the blonde’s lap.

After several minutes, Misaki began to squirm slightly. Usami broke off the kiss and smiled down at the brown-haired boy.

“Come home with me?”

Misaki blushed and shifted his legs off of the edges of the chair. He stared down at the floor for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

Usami grinned widely. Now that he’d found this cute boy, he didn’t intend to let him go.

*****

One thing was very clear to Isaka. He wanted to do this again with Asahina. He wanted Asahina in his bed tonight, and the morning, and for all the nights after. If it was possible to develop an addiction to a person, he’d just formed one. Asahina pulled away slightly to kiss his way down Isaka’s neck. He didn’t want this night to end.

“Take me home with you,” Asahina said against Isaka’s neck.

He felt his face blush. It was almost too good to be true. He glanced over his shoulder at Usami and found him similarly entangled. “Okay. Can you drive? He was my ride.” He nodded towards Usami.

A carefully neutral expression settled over Asahina’s face. “Your lover?”

He shook his head quickly. “Neighbor. We’re not…”

A smile spread across Asahina’s face. His hand stroked up Isaka’s spine. “Shall we go then? I can think of a few things we could do. I assume you have a large bed?”

His blush deepened and he shivered with anticipation. “Yeah, I do.”

He hissed slightly as he stood, finally sliding Asahina out of him. He was going to be sore in the morning, but it was worth it. Their crowd had started to disperse. A few of the lingering men turned away disappointed as Isaka started to pull on his clothes. He turned to Usami as he started buttoning up his shirt.

“Hey, Usami, I’m heading out.”

Usami waved at him but didn’t stop kissing his boy. Asahina’s arm settled around his waist as they left the club.

He definitely owed Usami for this night. He was never going to argue with any of Usami’s weird ideas again, and he was definitely going to come back, though he had a feeling that the next time would be with Asahina in tow.

Iruka arrived at the Academy fifteen minutes late, expecting to find his class in disarray. The halls were unnaturally silent as he ran towards his classroom, giving him early warning that something was off even before he opened the door. Twelve pairs of eyes turned to watch him as he slid open the door. He waited for something to fly at him or fall on him but nothing happened. A few of the girls were smiling at him, their hands over their faces to stifle their giggles.

He tugged absently on his ponytail, momentarily wondering if he’d left his hair down or put his shirt on backwards, but he’d been certain that he’d double-checked everything before leaving his house. He looked up, but there was nothing on the ceiling. Then he turned and saw what had his students so confused.

There was a small crystal vase in the center of his desk, filled with an arrangement of red carnations, daisies, and tulips. Iruka dropped his satchel on the desk and stared at his students. Their expressions where a mixture of curiosity and excitement, though none of them displayed the sort of guilt or embarrassment that would have led him to believe that a student had put them there.

A small white card lay partially hidden among the flowers. Iruka flipped it open with one hand. There was a single line was written inside in sprawling, thin script.

“Love comes in springtime, blooming across the countryside and in the hearts of the young.”

Iruka moved the flowers to the corner of his desk and put them out of mind while he started the day’s lesson.

*****

A few days later, Iruka came home to find a small package waiting outside his doorway. There were no postal markings on it, which meant someone must have hand delivered it. He picked it up carefully, turning the box over in case there was writing on a different side. The brown paper covering the package was unmarked. Something inside of it rattled slightly.

Iruka absently unlocked his door and disabled the wards. He toed off his shoes in the entranceway and dropped the package and his satchel on the coffee table on his way to the kitchen. After he’d made himself a cup of tea and a small plate of cookies, he returned to the coffee table and sat on the floor with his back against the couch. The package waited in front of him, tempting him to open it.

He picked it up in both hands and considered it. He didn’t think it was anything dangerous. As far as he was aware, no one in the village wished him ill. There was a possibility that one of his students, either current or past, was trying to play a prank on him.

He opened the package carefully, leaving the paper intact as he unwrapped it. There was a thin cardboard box inside, covered in red paper that looked vaguely familiar. He opened the box, expecting something to jump out at him. Nothing did, and suddenly the strange package made much more sense as he remembered the flowers that had appeared on his desk.

It was a box of chocolates. Iruka stared at them curiously and popped one in his mouth. They were good. Someone had obviously gone to one of the high-end stores to get these. There was another small card inside.

“His lips touched upon his beloved’s for the first time, tasting a sweetness greater than any nectar.”

He smiled slightly and pushed his cookies aside as he started his grading. If he happened to score slightly higher than usual, he didn’t think his students would mind.

*****

Iruka was slowly running out of possible culprits for the strange series of gifts. He’d ruled out his students. His current set were as curious about the gifts as he was, and most of his past classes were too young to be harboring romantic attentions towards him. Or at least he hoped they were. He didn’t really want to think about sixteen year olds with crushes on him.

Single parents were a possibility, but he couldn’t think of many that had been overly affectionate. Most of the other teachers were either straight males or females that knew quite well which way Iruka’s sexuality swung. He still met occasionally with some of his fellow classmates from when he’d been a genin, but they’d had opportunities for years to hit on him. His exes wouldn’t have gone to this much trouble to try and win him back. Finally, there was the horde of jounin that accosted him at the Mission Room.

The last group was the most disturbing of possibilities, which is why Iruka also considered them the most likely. Jounin were a wholly deranged group of individuals, which is why the eccentricity of the gifts made the most sense coming from one of them. Someone saner would have made themselves known by now. There would have been a name with the notes, something to give away the identity of the sender.

Since then he’d received two more vases of flowers, appearing in place of the first as soon as the original set started to fade. He’d been gifted with a finely crafted set of shuriken, a box of pens, and several bowls of ramen that appeared on his desk conveniently in time for lunch. Each came with a card and a quote.

He found the entire situation incredibly sweet, though he still had no idea who was behind it.

There was another package waiting for him when he got home. A smile instantly blossomed on Iruka’s face as he caught sight of the familiar brown paper. He quickly let himself into his apartment then stopped before he could put the package down. There was someone on his couch, and not just any someone but one of the most famous jounin in Konoha, Sharingan Kakashi.

Iruka turned back towards the door which had been locked when he’d come home, with the wards unbroken. He looked at the jounin who seemed to be smiling at him. It was hard to tell what Kakashi’s expression was with the mask covering the lower half of his face and his tilted forehead protector covering one eye.

“Umm…” Iruka hovered awkwardly in the middle of the living room. A number of possible things to say flittered through his head, only to be immediately discarded as too impolite or too inane. “Would you like some tea?”

Kakashi shook his head. “No. Thank you though.” His eyes never left Iruka.

The constant attention was slightly unnerving. He dropped his satchel next to the wall and moved into the kitchen to turn the kettle on. The package was still in his hands. He debated opening it now but that seemed impolite, somehow. He didn’t really want someone else knowing what was in there. So far the gifts had all been safe, but that didn’t guarantee that they’d always be. The quotes had gotten more and more explicit with each new present. He expected the presents to eventually take the same turn and he didn’t want to open something like that in front of someone.

Unless Kakashi was the one who’d sent him the gifts….

Iruka shook his head, dispelling that thought as a possibility. There was no way Kakashi liked him. They barely knew each other. Still, he couldn’t think of any other reason why Kakashi would be in his living room.

“You should open it.”

Iruka jumped as Kakashi’s voice sounded from the doorway. He turned quickly, blushing as he stared at the jounin. “W-what?”

Kakashi pointed towards the package in Iruka’s hands.

“Oh.” He glanced down at the package and then over at the jounin. “Umm… why are you here?”

Kakashi just smiled at him, his one visible eye half-closing. “Curiosity.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The kettle started to whistle and he set the package down to pull out a teabag and teacup.

“Do you like tea?”

He half turned to look at the jounin. Kakashi had sounded curious, almost interested.

“Yeah.” He opened the cabinet to show off the assortment of boxes inside. “I like trying out different flavors.” He pointed to a greenish tin, the one that he’d just pulled a teabag out of. “I’ve been on a bit of a berry kick recently. This one’s a Blackberry Sage mix. It’s quite good. Are you sure you don’t want a cup?”

Kakashi shook his head.

Iruka set his cup aside to steep and picked up the package. Kakashi watched him as he pulled the tie loose, dropping the string on the counter before he slipped his fingers into the sides of the paper. There was something orange underneath. The shape of it seemed familiar. Slowly, Iruka pulled the paper away to reveal a small orange book.

He felt his face flush with embarrassment the minute he recognized the cover. Iruka looked at the jounin in shock. “You… you…” He wasn’t sure if he should be appalled or excited. The latest gift was none other than the first volume of the famous Icha Icha series. He’d recognized the cover from seeing it in bookshops and from the many times he’d seen Kakashi reading it in public.

Suddenly it all made sense. He flipped the book open and read the first line.

Love comes in springtime, blooming across the countryside and in the hearts of the young. Shigetsu first met Mimi in such a spring, and his desire for her knew no bounds. The very sight of her sent his blood…

He snapped the book closed quickly.

Kakashi shifted closer. “You don’t like it? They’re very good, I can assure you, but if that’s not your liking, I could suggest a few other titles. There’s the Rose Gang series if you’re more into the strictly male pairings.”

Iruka shifted away slightly, but he didn’t have far that he could go. His back pressed against the counter. “I… I don’t really read that sort of…”

The jounin moved until he was directly in front of Iruka. He looked up as Kakashi’s arms came around him, lightly pulling the book from his fingers. “You should. I find they make great stress relief.” He pulled the book from Iruka’s grasp and flipped it open. “In this volume, I think page 114 is my favorite.” He turned the book so that the text was in front of Iruka.

Iruka could feel his blush spreading all the way to his ears. He averted his eyes and pushed Kakashi’s hand to the side. “T-that’s okay. I’ll pass for now.” His fingers lingered on Kakashi’s arm. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been this close to the jounin before.

“Are you sure?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kakashi flip the book closed, setting it on the counter next to Iruka’s forgotten cup of tea.

He nodded and couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact again.

Kakashi leaned forward, tilting his head until his mouth was level with Iruka’s ear. “It’s a wonderful scene.” He shivered as Kakashi’s breath ghosted over his ear. “The heroine, Mimi, has just given in to the hero’s, Shigetsu’s year long pursuit.”

Something warm and wet traced along the edge of his ear, making Iruka squeak embarrassingly. He could feel Kakashi’s lips moving against his ear.

“There’s a drawn out scene where Shigetsu undresses her. He’s very… devoted.”

One of Kakashi’s hands slipped under the hem of Iruka’s shirt to press flat against his stomach. Kakashi’s palm felt cool against his suddenly flushed skin. He bit his lower lip to hold back a moan.

“But it’s not until page 114 that they get to the heart of it. You see, that’s the scene where they’re both finally in bed, with Shigetsu pressed on top of Mimi. He’s kissing her breasts, whispering how much he loves her against her skin as he enters her, sliding his hot, hard erection deep inside of her.”

Kakashi’s lips moved down Iruka’s neck as the jounin spoke, teasing against his skin. Iruka’s breath hitched. His pulse was racing in anticipation but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He was frozen in suspense, hypnotized by Kakashi’s words. Kakashi’s other hand brushed against Iruka’s thigh, moving backwards and around until it cupped Iruka’s ass and squeezed once, lightly. Kakashi shifted forward, pressing against Iruka’s front, trapping him between the jounin and the counter.

“But, if you’re not interested in reading about it, I could show you.”

Iruka looked up with wide eyes as Kakashi pulled away from his neck to look him in the eyes. It was hard to think with Kakashi pressed against him, the jounin’s husky voice still ringing in his ears. Kakashi’s hands were distracting him. The one in the front kept brushing against the edge of his pants, the tips of his fingers pushing under the waistband but not going any further down, while the hand on his ass kept squeezing, his fingers digging in lightly, rhythmically groping Iruka’s ass. He stared at the pale expanse of Kakashi’s chin, bared naked for him, his mask pulled away to hang loose around Kakashi’s neck.

It took Iruka all of two seconds to think of an answer.

“I’d like that.”

A grin spread across Kakashi’s face. He leaned forward to capture Iruka’s lips. Iruka opened his mouth, letting Kakashi’s tongue invade. He was not surprised to learn that Kakashi was a good kisser. In seconds, he had Iruka moaning against Kakashi’s lips, though he attributed at least part of that to the hands that had shifted around to cup both cheeks of his ass, pressing him forward against Kakashi. Evidence of the jounin’s interest pressed against him. Iruka wrapped his arms around the jounin’s shoulders and lifted one of his legs to hook around Kakashi’s waist.

Kakashi moaned his approval, pulling away momentarily to softly bite Iruka’s lower lip, drawing a similar moan from the chuunin. His hand slipped down to support Iruka’s leg under the knee. Kakashi rocked his hips forward into Iruka, causing him to moan once more against Kakashi’s lips. The jounin’s other hand slid down, encouraging Iruka to bring his other leg up.

Iruka shifted, carefully balancing his weight before he let Kakashi pull his leg up. The jounin supported his weight easily, his hands moving back down to press against Iruka’s ass, holding him close so that Kakashi could grind against him. The stimulation was almost too much for him. Iruka gasped, tightening his arms around Kakashi’s shoulders as he tried to press as tightly as he could against the jounin.

“Kakashi…” Iruka moaned. He wasn’t quite sure how much longer he could hold out against the onslaught of Kakashi’s attention and there were other things he’d hoped they’d get to before the night was over. “…bed?”

Kakashi’s teeth bit lightly against Iruka’s neck, just below his ear. He took that for an affirmative answer as Kakashi stepped away from the counter. Their hips rubbed together with every step, driving Iruka half mad with sensation. He bit his arm to muffle the long moan that threatened to escape his lips, using the slight pain to keep him away from the edge.

The stairs were maddening. Iruka squeaked with each step and panted against Kakashi’s shoulder.

“I should carry you around like this more often, sensei,” Kakashi teased. He sucked on Iruka’s neck, hard enough to leave a mark.

Relief washed over Iruka as his back hit the mattress of his bed. Kakashi pulled away slightly to stare down at him with a lecherous grin. He brushed his fingers over Iruka’s cheek reverently before slipping his hand back to pull the tie loose from Iruka’s hair and remove his forehead protector. Brown strands of hair fanned across the covers around his head.

“Do you know how Mimi and Shigetsu start out in the book?” Kakashi asked him softly. Both of his hands rested against Iruka’s stomach.

Iruka blushed and shook his head.

“Shigetsu started by removing Mimi’s top.”

A hand at the small of his back lifted him until his was half sitting up, his legs still around Kakashi’s waist. Iruka’s vest was stripped away and dropped carefully to the floor near the edge of the bed. Kakashi’s hands slid under his shirt, rubbing against his sides for a brief moment before he hooked his thumb under the edge of the fabric and slowly pushed up, pealing it off of Iruka.

“Did Mimi return the favor?” Iruka blushed as he asked the question.

Kakashi smiled softly down at him. “She did.”

Tentatively, Iruka reached forward to slide Kakashi’s vest from his shoulders. Kakashi helpfully raised his arms as Iruka pushed the jounin’s shirt up and off of him, revealing a wide expanse of pale, muscular skin. He let his hands roam across the jounin’s chest, slightly fascinated by the feel of Kakashi’s muscles. He’d never realized before just how strong Kakashi was. He’d carried Iruka like he weighed nothing. Iruka had to admit that having that kind of power directed towards him was more than a bit of a turn on.

Kakashi licked his lips after a moment and pulled Iruka’s hands away. He pushed forward, guiding Iruka back onto the bed. “Next, he kissed her, letting his lips trail over the mounds of her breasts and mapping a path down towards her sex.” Kakashi put his words into action and started kissing a trail from Iruka’s collarbone down his chest.

“I don’t think-”

His words were cut off as Kakashi’s teeth scraped over a nipple. He gasped as Kakashi bit down, involuntarily arching up against Kakashi’s mouth. Fingernails scraped over the other half of his chest. He moaned loudly as Kakashi’s teeth and fingers toyed with his nipples, Kakashi’s mouth switching back and forth between either side of his chest.

“Kakashi,” Iruka gasped. He buried his fingers in Kakashi’s hair and tugged, trying to pull Kakashi’s mouth away. “Stop. Ah! I’m…” He was too close. He was going to explode soon if Kakashi didn’t stop.

Kakashi chuckled slightly but he moved away, continuing his progression down Iruka’s chest and over his stomach. Deft fingers unbuttoned Iruka’s pants, quickly sliding the zipper down. He let his legs fall from around Kakashi’s waist and lifted his hips so that the jounin could pull his pants off. Kakashi’s mouth paused over his bellybutton. Iruka screamed and almost came as Kakashi’s tongue dipped into the hollow of Iruka’s bellybutton, his tongue circling the flesh before brushing over his bellybutton.

“Kakashi.”

The jounin’s mouth moved further down. Iruka could guess where he was heading. This was going to end too soon.

“Kakashi, don’t. I can’t… I’m going to…”

Kakashi ignored him. Iruka jumped as thin fingers circled the base of his erection, squeezing the base of his erection to keep him from coming. He gasped as the jounin’s tongue ran over the slit in Iruka’s erection, licking up the precum that had gathered there. Iruka’s hands fisted in the covers. One of Kakashi’s arms pressed against his hips, keeping him still against the bed as Kakashi licked up and down the length of Iruka’s erection.

Iruka’s attention narrowed to a single point. All he could focus on was Kakashi’s mouth as it tormented him, making him writhe in pleasure while Kakashi’s hand kept up the pressure around the base of Iruka’s cock, holding him back from release. He wanted to come. He desperately wanted to come, but he didn’t want it to end. Needy sounds fell from his lips but he was too lost in emotion to care how embarrassing they sounded.

Then Kakashi’s lips closed around his erection, swallowing him down. Kakashi’s hand let go and suddenly Iruka was coming, screaming Kakashi’s name as he emptied his seed into the jounin’s mouth. His vision went white and he lost all sense of the world around him for a brief moment.

When he came back to his senses, Kakashi was grinning down at him and licking his lips. “I hope you don’t think we’re done yet, sensei.”

Iruka whimpered and spread his legs wider. Kakashi’s eyes burned with desire as he stared down at him.

“What happens next?” Iruka asked, his voice on the verge of breathlessness.

Kakashi grinned. He ran his fingers over Iruka’s lips, his eyes intent. Iruka parted his lips slightly and let his tongue dart out to moisten the digits. Kakashi watched him with blatant lust.

“Mimi returned the favor.”

Iruka placed one hand on Kakashi’s chest, pushing the jounin backwards as he slid towards the edge of the bed. One of Kakashi’s hands slipped into his pocket, palming something and dropping it on the table next to Iruka’s bed. Iruka dropped to his knees and reached forward to undo Kakashi’s pants. The fabric pooled around the jounin’s ankles. Iruka was moving forward before it even hit the floor. He held Kakashi’s erection in one hand as he guided it to his lips. He didn’t pause, just opened his mouth and swallowed the jounin down until the tip of his erection brushed the back of his throat.

He moaned as the taste of Kakashi filled his mouth. Both of Kakashi’s hands twisted in his hair, lightly holding on to the back of Iruka’s head. He pulled back slowly, drawing back until only the tip of Kakashi’s erection remained in his mouth and then running his tongue over the head, circling it and flicking against the head. Above him, a deep moan fell from Kakashi’s lips. Iruka moved slowly, savoring the feeling of Kakashi inside his mouth as he bobbed his head, sucking on the salty flesh.

Kakashi didn’t let him go for long. After a few brief minutes, the fingers tightened in his hair, pulling Iruka off with a loud, wet pop. Iruka panted slightly, using the moment to refill his lungs with air. The jounin’s hands hooked under Iruka’s armpits, pulling him to his feet and turning him until he was face down on the bed. Iruka spread his legs. His hands gripped the covers as a slick finger pressed into him and he groaned wantonly.

“Shigetsu pressed his fingers inside of Mimi’s opening, stroking her to her second orgasm before he let himself enter her.”

Iruka shivered and tried to protest. “Don’t… Kakashi, I want you inside of me. Plea-”

His words were cut off as Kakashi’s finger pressed against his prostate. Iruka gasped and bucked, rubbing his slowly renewing erection against the side of the bed. A second finger, then a third joined the first inside of him, stretching him open as the fingers played inside of him. Kakashi rubbed his fingers against Iruka’s prostate, pressing against the hard nub of flesh over and over again until Iruka was quivering against the bed.

“Come on,” Kakashi crooned. “Come for me, Iruka. Show me how much you like it.”

Two more fingers pressed into him and he screamed again, coming hard into the covers.

His legs gave out but Kakashi caught him, turning him and sliding him up on the bed until his head rested on the pillows. Iruka could only watch in growing anticipation as Kakashi crawled forward. His erection bobbed as he moved, drawing Iruka’s attention down to it. He licked his lips, remembering how it had tasted and wishing that Kakashi had let Iruka suck him to completion.

Kakashi’s hands pushed under Iruka’s knees, drawing Iruka’s legs up over Kakashi’s shoulders. He shivered as Kakashi lined up, moaning in anticipation. The head of Kakashi’s erection pressed against him but he stopped there.

“Finally, Shigetsu enters Mimi, taking his pleasure in her open body.”

Iruka arched against Kakashi as he pushed in. His senses were drawn raw and over sensitized from pleasure, making him shiver with each new touch. Kakashi was watching him again, his eyes intent on Iruka’s face as he slowly started to move. Iruka’s lips were parted, letting out each breath as a needy gasp. He forgot about his embarrassment as he reached up, pulling Kakashi down for a kiss.

His breath hitched as Kakashi kept his hands on Iruka’s legs as he leaned forward, forcing Iruka’s knees up towards his ears. Kakashi’s tongue pushed inside of Iruka’s mouth, sliding against Iruka’s in a mirror of the movement of his erection inside of Iruka. Their new position forced Kakashi in deeper. Iruka trembled and dug his fingers into Kakashi’s shoulders.

Kakashi broke their kiss after a moment and leaned back. His hands moved to grip Iruka around the waist as he slowly increased the pace of his hips into a pounding rhythm. Iruka pressed his forearms against the headboard as the force of Kakashi’s thrusts slid them up the bed and used the slight bit of leverage offered to press back into Kakashi.

“Tell me,” Kakashi gasped suddenly. “Tell me how it feels.”

Iruka groaned. He could feel his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he lost himself in pleasure.

“So good,” he gasped. “I want you so much. Need you. Need you in me.”

“I want you too,” Kakashi panted.

“Please,” Iruka moaned. “Ah. God. Please. Come in me. Please. Need you to come.”

Kakashi groaned loudly and slammed forward one last time, smacking Iruka’s forearms against the headboard. He came, shooting hot seed inside of Iruka and not stopping, not slowing down his thrusts until it was spilling out of Iruka, running down his legs.

Iruka’s arms came up to wrap around Kakashi as the jounin collapsed on top of him. The sound of their labored breathing filled the room for several minutes until Kakashi stirred enough to move. Iruka winced slightly as Kakashi pulled out of him. He was going to be sore in the morning, but it was well worth it.

“Thank you for the gifts.”

Kakashi smiled softly down at him. “You’re welcome. Have I convinced you yet to give Icha Icha a try?”

Iruka returned the jounin’s smile and ran a hand through Kakashi’s hair. He leaned up to kiss the jounin passionately before answering. “I think I prefer having them read to me.”

The grin Kakashi turned on him was positively wicked. “That can be arranged. I think you might like the scene on page 229, where Shigetsu and Mimi visit the hot springs.”

Iruka laughed and tightened his arms around the jounin. He had a feeling his life was about to get a lot more interesting.

I’ve recently developed an obsession with reading writing blogs, so in the spirit of sharing, I’ve added a new section to my site with all of the blogs, articles, and Twitter users that I’ve found particularly informative. There’s advice on writing in general, as well as information on life after publishing and on how to attract and work with agents. I’ll update as I come across more articles (which has been fairly frequent).

Writing Resources

The office was quiet. Someone had left a cup of coffee on his desk at some point. It was cold now. He’d taken two sips from it and then forgotten about it, drowning himself in the words on the page and the soft scratch of pen against paper. He only noticed the passage of time by the dwindling noise in the office, each of the voices that usually formed the background noise of his day slowly receding until he was left in silence.

He kept reading, turning the pages of the manuscript face down in a pile next to him. Occasionally he would write on one of the pages, jotting a quick note in the margins or circling a piece of text that needed changed. All in all, it was a good book. There were a few changes that would need to be made, but it was a solid piece of work. It was engaging, it drew the reader in. With proper editing, the book would be a best-seller.

The door opened, the sound only barely registering at the edge of his senses. He turned the page. Footsteps echoed against the tile. He scribbled a note in the margin at the top of the page. The scene needed expanded to provide more detail. He turned the page. The footsteps came to a halt behind his chair.

Ryuuichirou craned his neck up, wincing as his neck muscles protested the movement after being bowed over the manuscript for so long. Asahina stared down at him, his expression blank.

“Do you know what time it is?” Asahina did not sound happy.

Ryuuichirou blinked up at him. He turned to glance at the clock on his desk but stopped halfway, wincing as a spike of pain shot through his neck. Warm hands settled on his neck and he closed his eyes instinctively. Asahina’s fingers dug into his skin, slightly painful at first but the pain receded as Asahina expertly loosened the knots of tension that had formed in his neck. He let himself relax into the touch. After spending so much time being in love with Asahina and thinking his love unrequited, he found himself savoring every moment that Asahina touched him.

The low moan that escaped his lips surprised both of them.

Asahina’s hands froze and Ryuuichirou felt himself blushing all the way to his ears. He wasn’t sure what he should do – if he should move or apologize or say something to alleviate the sudden tension between them.

As usual, Asahina was a step ahead of him. His hands started to move again, rubbing his fingers deeper into Ryuuichirou’s skin. Ryuuichirou gasped slightly and bit his lip, but it merely muffled his next moan instead silencing it. The fingers moved down, rubbing circles against his spine and then sliding out to squeeze the muscles in his shoulders. He shivered. His head fell forward against his chest, baring his entire neck to Asahina’s ministrations. He could feel his body turning boneless, but that wasn’t the only reaction. Noises kept falling from his lips, soft, needy sounds that would have been embarrassing if there was anyone else in the office.

He wanted to see what Asahina’s hands could do over the rest of his body. He wanted to stand up and bend himself over his desk and beg Asahina to take him. He wanted to drop to his knees and take Asahina into his mouth, sucking until the taste of him washed away the lingering remnants of the coffee he hand drank earlier.

The door opened suddenly and Asahina pulled away, pretending to busy himself straightening up Ryuuichirou’s desk. Ryuuichirou dropped the manuscript he’d been reading into his lap, using it to cover the erection that had slowly been building all through the impromptu massage. He kept his head down, hoping that his hair hid the fact that he was blushing uncontrollably.

“I think it’s a sign that you need to clean up more often, Isaka-san, if the president has to send his secretary down to tame your desk,” one of the editors joked as he passed by.

Ryuuichirou didn’t move. He listened as the man rooted around in his desk, opening and closing drawers before finally walking away.

“Good night, Isaka-san, Asahina-san.”

Asahina murmured a goodbye for the two of them.

As soon as the door closed, Ryuuichirou let his head fall on to his desk, thudding dully against the wood.

“Perhaps we should go home, Ryuuichirou-sama?”

He nodded against the desk. “Yeah. Yeah, we should.”

He stuck a post-it note between the pages of the manuscript to mark his place and clipped it back together. He left it on top of his desk along with his pen and turned off his laptop. After a few minutes, he finally gathered up the courage to look up at Asahina. The secretary was smiling fondly at him. He felt himself smiling back.

The ride home was quiet. Asahina drove, Ryuuichirou stared out the car window. His thoughts kept drifting back to Asahina’s hands on his neck, ensuring that his blush never fully went away. As soon as they were home, he linked his fingers with Asahina’s and pulled them towards his bedroom. Asahina let him.

Once the door was closed as they were safely in private, Ryuuichirou turned, still blushing, and stretched up on his toes to kiss Asahina. The other man’s mouth opened easily for his own, letting Ryuuichirou explore for a few minutes before he pushed Ryuuichirou back to his feet and took control of the kiss. Asahina’s hands pulled his shirt free from his pants and slipped underneath. His fingers dug into Ryuuichirou’s lower back, making him break the kiss so that he could gasp for air. He let his head fall against Asahina’s shoulder and didn’t bother to hide his moans.

Asahina’s hands pulled away after a minute to quickly divest Ryuuichirou of his clothing. Ryuuichirou followed slower behind, his fingers still working on the buttons of Asahina’s shirt while Asahina was undoing his pants. Asahina guided them towards the bed and turned Ryuuichirou until he was lying face down on the covers. He spread his legs hopefully as Asahina settled behind him on the mattress but Asahina reached for the bedside table instead, opening the drawer and pulling out a bottle of lotion.

Ryuuichirou gasped loudly as a cold trail of liquid poured down his spine. He opened his mouth to complain but then Asahina’s hands followed the trail of lotion from this tailbone up to his neck, gathering the lotion into his hands. Another moan echoed through the room as Asahina massaged his shoulders, repeating the motions from before but they felt more intimate this time without clothing in the way.

The hands moved down, pressing hard against his spine and then back up to rub circles into his back. Asahina’s hands worked magic against his skin. Ryuuichirou melted against the sheets, slowly being reduced to a quivering mass of jelly by the hands running over him. He lost track of how many times he moaned, not caring how he sounded as Asahina’s hands played against his skin, creating an orchestra of breathless gasps and low moans and needy whimpers. His hands gripped the sheets above his head and he fidgeted, growing more and more desperate for a different kind of touch.

Fingers pressed into the small of his back, spending several minutes working out the tension there before sliding down to squeeze Ryuuichirou’s ass. He cried out and trembled. Asahina’s hands held him down, keeping him from thrusting against the covers to get some sort of relief.

“Please,” he moaned. “Kaoru, please.”

The fingers continued to tease him until he was panting against the pillow.

“Please. Please. I need you, Kaoru. Please, fuck me. Please. Can’t wait.”

The fingers slid down, pressing a finger from each hand into his opening and pulling slightly, stretching him open. He sobbed into the pillow and begged for more. Another finger slid in, then another. They moved inside of him, repeating the same circular motion that Asahina had used down his back. He held onto the pillow like it was his lifeline and panted loudly.

Asahina’s fingers rubbed over his prostate and he screamed, bucking his hips up into Asahina’s touch, forcing the fingers deeper inside of him. He felt himself teetering on the edge.

“Ka… Kaoru… please… gonna come… s-stop… need you… inside…”

The fingers didn’t pull away. They pressed against his prostate again. He bit his lip to keep from coming.

“Ah! No! Kaoru… want you… inside me… when I come… please… ple-”

His words were cut off as Asahina pushed two more fingers inside and circled his fingers over Ryuuichirou’s prostate. He came against the sheets, shouting Kaoru’s name. The fingers pulled out, giving him a momentary respite to breath. It didn’t last long. Hands settled on his hips and then Asahina was pushing inside of him, filling the space his fingers had just vacated.

Ryuuichirou whimpered but he lifted his hips, pressing back into Asahina’s thrust. They stayed like that, joined together, Asahina’s hips pressed tight against Ryuuichirou’s ass, for a long moment before Asahina finally moved. It was too much after the recent onslaught of Asahina’s hands. He felt everything. His nerves were afire with sensation. Each touch, each thrust, each press of flesh on flesh was magnified, bringing him more pleasure than it ever had before. The massage had left him boneless but this undid all of that, winding him into one giant knot of tension, too wrapped up in pleasure to think of anything but the feeling of Asahina inside of him.

Asahina started out slow, dragging his cock inside of Ryuuichirou in a relentless slide. He gradually sped up. Ryuuichirou’s hips were lifted and Asahina’s hands guided him up onto his knees until he was kneeling on the bed, face against the pillows, ass in the air. Asahina adjusted his hips and sped up, increasing his pace until he was thrusting forward hard, pounding into Ryuuichirou. It was times like this that he liked the best, when Asahina took him roughly, cock buried deep inside and fucking him hard enough that he’d still feel it in the morning.

The soreness was just one more tie that bound him to Asahina.

A hand reached between his legs to stroke his erection. He tried to protest, tried to say that he couldn’t come any more but no words came out. His body apparently disagreed. He felt himself hardening under Asahina’s touch. His body was trained that way, trained to do what Asahina wanted, trained to respond for Asahina. He whimpered into the pillow as he felt himself building towards another release.

Asahina thrust hard inside of him and he came undone, screaming into the pillow as he came a second time. The world spun and went black momentarily. When he came too, he was lying flat on the bed. His thighs were wet and he felt boneless. He didn’t ever want to move again.

“Are you alright, Ryuuichirou-sama?”

He blinked towards the voice and nodded his head slowly. There was a faint chuckle towards the edge of the bed. He heard Asahina walk away, then return. Cold, wet fabric pressed against his skin, feeling too rough against his over-stimulated flesh. He whimpered slightly and then the fabric was gone.

Asahina rolled, then lifted him, laughing softly as Ryuuichirou curled against him. He was tucked under the covers. Asahina slid in behind him, turning off the light before pressing himself tight against Ryuuichirou’s back.

He was asleep as soon as Asahina’s arms settled around him.

Florian felt ridiculous. He couldn’t seem to stop blushing every time someone looked at him, which seemed to be happening constantly since he and Ray had first walked into the ballroom. Ray had his own little circle of attention, off on the other side of the room, but that was fine for him considering Ray wasn’t the one who had been forced to wear a dress.

He really hated it when Ray did this, which is probably why it happened so damn often.

The dress swished around his feet as he crossed the room towards the refreshments tables, the skirt filled with far more hoops and layers than he liked, but at least it kept people from staring at his ass like when Ray had made him wear the skin-tight red number on their last heist. He mentally groaned at the fact that he was actually willingly helping Noir steal something, but a quarter of the value of the item would be subtracted from his debt, which was really all the incentive he needed to put on women’s clothing.

It didn’t, however, make him complain or protest any less.

He blamed Laila for the fact that he could not-quite-stalk across the crowded dance floor in high heels with perfect balance. He blamed both Laila and Ray for the number of heads that turned as he slipped between dancers and clusters of people talking. Logically, he knew that the pair had conspired to turn him into a rather fetching imitation of a women, but he couldn’t quite mentally connect himself in drag with something that men would want to lust after. Well, men other than Ray, but he was a special case that lusted after Florian no matter what he wore. He wondered how another man could look at Florian and not realize that he wasn’t a woman.

“Pardon, milady.” Florian blushed as an arm encircled his waist, halting his progress across the room and forcing him to turn.

Shock ran through him as he turned to face Count Laurien, the host of tonight’s ball and owner of the Taviere Collection, Noir’s current target. A piece from the collection currently hung from the count’s neck. The blue jewel set in the center of the necklace complemented the count’s suit, seeming as if it had been made specifically for the man to wear this night.

“H-hello,” Florian offered nervously, almost certain that the count would notice the masculine timbre to his voice.

If the count thought anything was off with Florian’s demeanor, he didn’t show it. He smiled widely and raked his eyes over Florian’s form in a less than subtle move. Florian felt his face heat further at the intimate attention. Laurien’s eyes seemed to linger on his corset-enhanced waist before travelling up over fake breasts to finally reach his eyes once more.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

He smiled slightly, hoping the man would mistake his nerves for shyness. “Lady Amelia d’Meria.” He extended a gloved hand.

The count bowed over his hand and pressed his lips to the top of Florian’s glove. The arm around his waist slid as the count moved, brushing low over Florian’s hips, barely on the good side of propriety. Laurien’s lips lingered longer than necessary.

“Don’t tell me a beauty such as yourself is here alone?”

He shook his head and glanced in Ray’s direction. The thief wasn’t even looking in Florian’s direction. He had his back half-turned as he spoke to a man in a brown suit.

“I came with my cousin, Count Ray Balzac Courland. He’s been kind enough to show me around town during my brief visit.”

The count’s expression soured briefly when Florian mentioned Ray, though the expression passed quick enough that he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been looking for it. Apparently Ray’s reputation had preceded them here. The count pasted a smile on his face.

“Are you in town for long?”

He glanced again towards Ray but the man was oblivious to the fact that he should be rescuing Florian. “Only until tomorrow.” He smiled back at Laurien, trying his best to look pretty and daft and not at all like someone who was helping a notorious thief steal the count’s prized jewel collection.

“Pity.” Laurien’s hand pressed against his hip, his fingers curling almost possessively. It was the kind of touch that Florian usually associated with Ray. “Well, then I suppose we should make the best of the time while you’re here. Tell me, are you a fan of art?”

Florian smiled weakly. He had a bad feeling about this but it would be impolite to try to leave. “I am.”

Laurien’s smile widened. “I have quite the collection. May I show you?”

His eyes wandered back to where Ray was still talking, still oblivious. “I’d love to,” he lied.

The count’s arm settled like a chain around his waist, leading him from the ballroom and down a long hall lined with framed pieces of art. True to his word, Laurien did have a rather impressive collection of art. Absently, he wondered if Noir knew about it. If he didn’t, Florian wasn’t going to mention it. The last thing he wanted was to give Noir an excuse to come back.

They moved slowly. Every so often the count would stop before a particular piece and explain its significance. Florian would normally find such talk fascinating, but he was distracted, trying to think of ways to get away from the count. His presence was starting to unnerve Florian, made worse by the empty halls and their constant progress deeper into the mansion.

After a flight of stairs and another hall lined with art, Florian was starting to get suspicious. The wing that they’d wandered into was silent, the sound of the party faded beyond hearing.

“The best of the collection is in here.” Count Laurien opened half of a set of double doors. The room inside was too dark to make out much beyond the faint outlines of furniture.

Florian smiled nervously and stepped inside. The count followed, shutting the door behind them and briefly dropping them both into complete darkness. There was a faint click, then another and suddenly the room brightened. A small wick lantern sat on a table by the door, casting the room in amber hues. The light didn’t reach the opposite walls but it covered enough for Florian to realize that they weren’t in a gallery.

He turned towards the door and reached for the handle. “I think-”

Laurien’s lips cut him off. He squeaked in surprise and tensed as two arms came around his waist, pulling his body tight against the count’s. Blindly, he groped behind him for the door handle. His fingers found it and twisted but the handle didn’t give. After a moment, the count pulled away.

“I’m afraid that’s locked.” His smile turned somewhat predatory and then he was leaning in again to kiss a path down Florian’s neck.

Fear coursed through Florian’s body, freezing him in place, too terrified to even try to run.

“S-stop.”

Laurien laughed against his neck. His teeth bit down lightly on the side of Florian’s neck. A hand slid down to spread over Florian’s ass, groping him through his skirts. He gasped slightly and shivered. Memories of Azura and his opium flashed through Florian’s mind. Fear and desperation mixed, giving him the strength to finally move.

He lifted one shaky hand up to Count Laurien’s chest and tried to push them apart. The count’s grip was stronger, keeping them together despite Florian’s increasing struggles. Laurien made an annoyed sound against Florian’s neck and finally stopped. He pulled back slightly and glared. His hands caught both of Florian’s, holding them tightly.

“I suggest you play nicely or I will be forced to act in accordance with your disobedience.” All pretence of civility dropped from Laurien’s voice, leaving a hard edge of annoyance.

Florian spat in his face.

The answering slap was almost expected. Florian fell, landing on one of the couches scattered around the room. His ears rung. Distantly, he heard the sounds of a belt buckle being loosened and then the count was grapping Florian’s hands, first one, then the other, wrapping his leather belt around and between them. He fastened the buckle over Florian’s joined wrists, pulling the leather painfully tight.

Florian screamed. Maybe, if he was lucky, one of the servants or patrons would be able to hear him and come rescue him. That was, of course, assuming that rape wasn’t a regular occurrence at the Laurien household and that the servants wouldn’t just turn a blind eye towards it. He was also assuming that there was actually someone within hearing distance.

“Stop that,” Laurien commanded angrily.

Florian didn’t and tried to push off of the couch but Laurien held him down with one hand on the small of Florian’s back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Laurien loosening his tie and then the fabric was being slid between his lips and tied behind his head, muffling his screams. The count pulled him to his feet and moved them until Florian was draped over the arm of the couch, his face pressed against the cushions, his legs dangling in the air. He tried to kick at the man but his legs moved feebly and Laurien caught his legs each time before he could connect.

His skirts were flipped up to fall heavily against his back. There were hands on his legs, tracing up and down his smooth thighs and pushing them slightly apart. Fingers hooked under the edges of the panties Ray had insisted he wear, pulling the fabric down. He blushed in embarrassment as he heard the count gasp in surprise.

“Well, that is certainly unexpected.”

Curious fingers ran underneath his balls and pressed against his entrance. He felt tears form at the edge of his eyes and tried desperately to shift away, but Laurien gripped him tightly by the hips, keeping him from moving.

“What a rare find indeed,” Laurien murmured. “Does your cousin know he’s hosting a cross-dresser?”

Florian whimpered against the gag and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as tears started to fall. Not again. This was like Azura all over again. Ray wasn’t going to be able to save him, not until it was too late. Fingers pressed against his entrance, slowly sliding inside. It hurt. It was too much, too fast and there was no lube, nothing to ease the relentless slide of flesh against flesh. He screamed into the gag, the sound slowly dissolving into a series of sobs.

He wanted Ray. He needed Ray to come save him. Ray didn’t hurt him, not anymore. Ray was safe. Ray protected him, except this time, like with Azura, he failed. Laurien was going to rape him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

One of the inner doors opened suddenly. Laurien froze, his fingers still inside of Florian. They both looked up at the masked man who stepped into the room. He had a gun in his hand which he kept pointed straight at Laurien.

“You will let him go now,” Noir commanded.

Florian winced as Laurien’s fingers slid out of him. The count took a step back.

“Untie him.”

He felt fingers in his hair and then the gag fell away, exposing the sound of his sobs to the room. Tears still ran down his cheeks but he couldn’t stop them. Laurien stepped around the couch and unbuckled the belt around his arms. It hit the floor with a loud thunk.

Florian stood quickly. He kept his eyes down, not looking at either of them as he pulled the panties back into place and resettled his skirts.

“You.” He knew Noir was addressing him. He didn’t look up. “Take the jewel from around the count’s throat.”

He froze in terror and wanted to shake his head, to tell Noir that he couldn’t do it, that he couldn’t go near the man that had been seconds away from raping him. Somehow he forced his body to move. He trembled uncontrollably as he stepped around the count. It took three tries to undo the clasp of the necklace. As soon as the jewel settled in his hand, he backed away, towards Noir.

“Give that to me.”

He handed the jewel to Noir without looking.

“You can leave now.”

Florian glanced over uncertainly but Noir just nodded towards the door. The hand holding the gun trained on Laurien never wavered.

“I-” His voice broke. He tried again. “It’s locked.”

Noir lifted an eyebrow and stared at Laurien. “The key?”

Laurien reached in his pocket and pulled a large metal key from his pocket. He held it out, his eyes focused angrily on Florian.

“No. Throw it towards the door.”

It landed on the carpet two feet from the door. Florian edged slowly around the room, keeping as far from Laurien as possible. As soon as he was near the doors, he scrambled for the key. His hands shook as he tried to unlock the doors, rattling the key against the lock until it finally clicked open. He pulled the door open and ran.

Florian only vaguely remembered the way back. He let the sounds of revelry guide him until he was back in the hall full of art. It was once more thankfully empty. He stopped by an ornate mirror to check his reflection. He twisted his dress back into place, smoothing out the wrinkles as best he could and then running a hand through his hair. There was still an edge of dishevelment to his appearance but there was little he could do about that.

He froze with his hand on the door handle. On the other side of the wood, he could hear the musicians playing, people chatting happily, oblivious of what had happened. Fear made his stomach clench and he suddenly wondered if any of them would know when they looked at him. Would he see pity in the servants’ eyes because they knew what their master did to pretty ladies behind locked doors? Would the women frown at him, thinking him at fault for letting himself get caught? Would the men snicker and eye him, hoping that they would be the next to despoil him?

Minutes passed while he stood, so close to freedom but too scared to cross the crowded hall of people to get there.

“Aren’t you going?”

Florian jumped and turned in surprise to stare at Ray. He felt himself start to shake once more, tears threatening. “I can’t.”

Ray’s fingers brushed the tears away before they could fall. He looked at Florian with open sympathy and let his hand slide down Florian’s back to rest against his waist. “It’ll be okay,” he said softly. “I’m here. Just hold yourself together a little longer and we can leave.”

He nodded but didn’t move. Ray’s fingers closed over his own, pulling his hand away from the door. He positioned himself securely against Florian’s side, wrapping his arm around Florian. Ray opened the door. The sounds of the ballroom flooded Florian’s senses, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

Florian knew they were moving but he was barely conscious of where they were going. A few times they stopped and he heard Ray murmur excuses but his voice sounded far away. He told them that Florian was sick, that all the excitement and the rich food had gone to her head and that he was taking her home to rest.

Cool air washed over him and he realized belatedly that they were outside. There was a carriage waiting at the bottom of the steps. Laila’s smile disappeared as she saw them but she said nothing as Ray helped Florian into the carriage. The door shut behind them, cutting off the outside world. The carriage jerked into movement, jarring Florian out of his haze and releasing all the emotion he’d kept bottled up.

He turned to Ray, twisting his hands into the fabric of the thief’s coat as he started to sob once more. There was a brief pause before Ray’s hands came around him, running soothingly along his back. Ray pressed his head against Florian’s and whispered nonsense at him, speaking low and softly in an effort to calm him.

His sobs had wound down by the time the carriage finally came to a stop. The door was flung open before Ray even had a chance to move.

“What the hell happened in there?” Laila demanded, her face twisted in anger.

A shudder ran through Florian and he started to cry again.

Ray sighed but didn’t let go. “I’ll explain later. Have someone run a hot bath in my chambers.” He pulled a small sack from underneath his coat and tossed it at Laila. “Find a secure place for these.”

He heard Laila move away. Ray’s hand stilled on his back.

“Think you can make it inside?”

He swallowed another sob and nodded shakily. Reluctantly, he started to pull away.

Ray stayed by his side the entire time. He helped Florian out of the carriage and kept his arm around him as they walked. He could feel the servants of the household watching him as they moved towards Ray’s bedroom, but they were all sensitive enough to know not to ask questions. He briefly heard Noel’s voice before one of the others distracted the boy, leading him away.

Some of the tension left him as they stepped into Ray’s bedroom. The suite was comforting, familiar, an extension of the safety Ray offered. They were alone in the rooms, and thus there was no one but Ray to see his tears as the thief gently stripped the dress off of Florian. The clothing was discarded in a pile by the door, along with Ray’s own.

Ray stepped into the tub first, holding Florian steady while he shakily lifted his legs over the edge of the tub. They sank down until the water lapped at their chests. He half turned, wrapping his arms around Ray’s shoulders and burying his face in Ray’s neck.

A warm, wet cloth ran over his body, starting with his chest and shoulders and then working its way down. Ray pulled Florian’s legs forward, one at a time, until he could wash both, cleaning away Laurien’s touch. Florian whimpered but didn’t move away as fingers pressed against his entrance. Unlike when Laurien had touched him, they were wet and slick, sliding easily into his body. Ray cleaned him there too, touching softly, too light to arouse but enough to take the edge off his fear and make him melt against Ray’s chest.

His legs felt weak when Ray finally moved them out of the tub. He leaned limply against Ray as the other man dried them off, never straying far from Ray’s touch. Ray helped him under the covers and slid in to join him.

They were both naked still and he didn’t mind when Ray’s hands moved against his skin, touching him with familiarity, pressing against all the points that Ray knew would drive him wild. His fear receded but didn’t vanish entirely under the pleasant haze of lust that Ray was purposefully inducing in him. He spread his legs eagerly, suddenly needing Ray inside of him, removing the last remnants of Laurien’s touch. Gentle fingers pressed into him, moving slowly, carefully, first one, then a second, then a third. All the while, Ray watched him, his eyes sharp, looking for any sign that Laurien had injured him.

He knew where Laurien had injured him, and it wasn’t a place that Ray could touch. The new wound settled beside the ones Azura had left and he knew the nightmares would be coming back.

“I’m sorry,” Ray whispered. His lips brushed over Florian’s lips in a caste kiss and then moved away to press against his chin, his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead.

The kisses unwound the last of his tension and he relaxed against the bed. He raised his arms to hold onto Ray, pulling the thief close while he lifted his legs, crossing his ankles behind Ray’s back in obvious invitation. Ray’s hand pulled away, sliding up to hold his hips steady as he pressed forward. Florian moaned as Ray entered him. Sex with Ray had been weird at first, uncomfortable and vaguely painful, but those times had faded away until he wanted it as much as Ray did. He arched his back, pushing himself up against Ray and forcing the thief a little bit deeper inside of him.

Ray’s mouth moved back to his lips and he kissed him for real this time, sliding his tongue into Florian’s mouth to kiss him deeply while his hips started to move. He moaned as Ray pushed inside of him, rolling his hips with each thrust, constantly shifting his angle until he found the spot he was looking for. Florian gasped, bucking his hips as Ray thrust against his prostate.

He was wound too tight to last long. He came in an embarrassingly short amount of time, moaning Ray’s name as he came onto both of their chests. Ray didn’t stop and Florian didn’t want to. He held on, wrapping himself tighter around Ray’s naked body and shivering with pleasure as Ray continued to fuck him. Ray’s lips had moved on to wander over Florian’s neck. He bit down suddenly, right over the spot where Laurien had bit him earlier, but harder than the count had. Ray’s bite was going to leave a mark. It felt somehow right that way.

Ray pulled back slowly, still within the loose grip of Florian’s arms, but far enough back that he could look down into Florian’s flushed face. Florian’s mouth was open, letting lose a lurid stream of moans and whimpers as Ray continued to run his hands over Florian’s over-sensitized body, driving him to distraction with pleasure. He kept his eyes on Ray, knowing that the thief liked to watch him while he came. Two more hard thrusts and then Ray was spilling his seed inside of Florian.

They stayed entangled on the sheets for a long time, until Ray reluctantly pulled away so that he could clean the come off of their bodies. Florian shivered and felt a momentary pang of loss as Ray pulled out of him. He debated asking Ray if they could go again, but his body was already starting to drift. He barely noticed as Ray’s hands moved his limbs enough for a cool cloth to wipe the seed from his skin.

Then Ray was back and turning off the lights. Florian closed his eyes before the last of the lights went off, waiting until he felt Ray settle beside him and then rolling until he lay half on top of the younger man. Ray’s arms came around him, holding him close. Florian drifted to sleep, hoping that Ray’s presence and the safety of his arms would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

He didn’t belong here, stuck in a dusty backroom with dirty sheets and no windows. Edward Elric was meant for fine halls and well-lit parlors. He was used to being surrounded by opulence and luxury and people who fought to please him. He was used to servants and grand balls and being on first name basis with royalty. It wasn’t that he had a particular fondness for that sort of living, he actually found it rather tiresome, but it was the life he’d been born into. There were no refunds.

The door to his small prison opened and he sat up quickly, eyes narrowing as he recognized his visitor.

Colonel Mustang stared down his nose at Ed. He shut the door firmly and knocked twice on the wood. The sound of the lock sliding into place on the other side of the door echoed through the room.

“Are you ready to cooperate?” The colonel asked smoothly.

Edward glared up at his captor. “No.”

Wood scraped across the floor as Mustang dragged a chair over towards Edward’s bed. He crossed his legs after he’d sat down and gave Edward a contemplative look. If Ed’s hands were free, he would have punched the smug look off the bastard’s face.

“You do know that you’re not getting out of here until you help us?”

He’d been moved by the militia’s plight to a point, but he couldn’t fully bring himself to believe what they were saying. He didn’t want to believe it, because the repercussions would break him. If what they said were true, then Ed had been kept in the dark about a lot of wrongdoing and he didn’t want to think that his family was capable of what they described.

But, there was still the niggling doubt of what if. Colonel Mustang’s arguments had been compelling, and taken out of context, Ed could even bring himself to agree with their cause somewhat, but his pride as an Elric and anger over the fact that they’d dared to kidnap him kept him from giving in. People who were in the right shouldn’t stoop to kidnapping and coercion. A small part of his brain argued that it was necessary, that there wouldn’t have been any other way to get to him.

If they’d sent in anyone other than this smug bastard to deal with him, he probably would have caved by now.

“I’m not going to betray my father.” Even if what Mustang had told him was true, and his father was possibly a bigger bastard than Mustang, at least he respected Ed and been kind to him, if distant. Admittedly, it was hard for his father to do anything to annoy Ed when he was hardly ever home, but at least Hohenheim respected Ed’s work and praised him for his genius.

Mustang sighed and leaned back in his chair. They’d been through the same argument countless times before and kept rehashing it over and over again, every time they met. He knew what the colonel was going to say next.

“Your father is a bad man.” Ed mockingly echoed Mustang’s words as he said them, earning a sharp glare.

“Like you’re any better?” Ed snorted, going off script because he was tired of hearing the same argument repeated. He was going stir-crazy trapped in this small room, not allowed outside or, worse, not allowed to build anything. His mind was filling with ideas that he wanted to put in practice, but he wasn’t allowed to do anything but think. “At least my father doesn’t kidnap people.”

The colonel coolly raised an eyebrow. “He has. Several of my people – some informants, some financial supports – have been taken from their homes. I imagine they’re faring far worse that you are, assuming they’re still alive. Your father probably had them tortured for information or threatened to have their families tortured.”

Ed felt his resolve wavering, not for the first time. He held his anger before him like a shield. It was all he had left. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. I can bring some of their families in to talk to you if you’d like. Maybe you’d be more sympathetic to a child crying about how the evil Lord Hohenheim has stolen her daddy away.”

He shifted on the mattress and told himself that he was just adjusting his arms. They ached from being tied behind his back for hours on end.

Mustang leaned forward in his chair. His eyes focused intently on Edward. “Your father tortures his enemies. He’s a cruel man, obsessed with power and control and owning the biggest guns and the best weapons.”

Edward swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. He’d designed those weapons for his father, and much more. He’d made a lot of things but he’d thought… he’d been told that his inventions were being used to help people. The thought that something he’d made was being used that way… he couldn’t allow himself to believe it, not if he wanted to stay sane.

“You’re lying,” he said again. His voice sounded weak, even to his own ears.

Mustang’s temper snapped. “It’s true!” He grabbed Ed by the shirt collar and pulled, sending the blonde boy tumbling off the bed. He landed half-sprawled over Mustang’s knee. “You’re a blind idiot if you can’t see what’s going on under your nose.”

A shiver ran through Ed’s body. Mustang had never touched him before, never gotten this angry. No one had ever yelled at him like that before. It was a wholly new and terrifying experience. “I-”

His words were cut off as a hand landed hard against his ass. He squeaked and then flushed in embarrassment.

“Shut up!”

A hand twisted in the back of his shirt, pulling him until he was dangling over Mustang’s lap. His head hung over the edge of the chair, his long braid brushing the floor.

“Let me-”

Another sharp slap cut him off. He bit his lip before he could squeak again but some of the sound still made it past his lips. Hands rolled him slightly. He felt hands on the fastenings of his pants and panicked. Mustang grabbed onto his braid and pulled tightly, forcing Ed to arch backwards with a gasp.

“You will hold still.”

Mustang’s tone cut straight through him. He found himself obeying Mustang’s command despite his rising fears. His pants and underwear were pulled down, left tangled loosely around his ankles. The hands repositioned him until he was face down once more, bare ass exposed to the chill air. He trembled in Mustang’s lap.

“You are a willful, insolent brat…”

Mustang punctuated his words with a hard slap on Ed’s right ass cheek. It stung in a strange way. He wasn’t used to pain, particularly not like this.

“But we need you and that fucking brain of yours…”

Another slap, on the other cheek this time. He bit his lip to keep from whimpering. Humiliation and embarrassment ran through his body, making him flush.

“And we need your inventions…”

Mustang was wearing gloves. Leather gloves. They made a hard sound as they hit Ed’s flesh.

“And ways to get around your inventions…”

He couldn’t hold back a faint cry as Mustang hit him again. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He wasn’t going to give in, no matter what Mustang did to him, not matter how much he wanted to.

“And you’re going to help us…”

No one had ever spanked him before. None of his caretakers had ever dared to raise a hand against him or his brother, and his parents hadn’t been around to administer discipline. Ed had never really been the type to act up, never done anything that truly deserved being punished.

Until now. Until he built machines that he thought were going to save humanity and make people’s lives better, but were really just there to destroy and tear down. It was cruel irony. He should have seen it. It was his fault for not seeing it, for being too focused on the glory of inventing to realize what his father was doing.

“Because if you don’t, we’re all going to die…”

Ed felt his resolve shatter, and with it his control. He only half-swallowed the sob that broke through him as Mustang hit him again.

Mustang’s tirade seemed to be over because he stopped talking. His hand continued to fall, smacking leather against his bare skin. It hurt. The pain got worse each time as Mustang hit the same spots again and again. He didn’t stop, just kept hitting Ed with the same methodical rhythm.

He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They ran down his face, dripping from his nose to splatter against the concrete floor. He sobbed loudly, uncontrollably, as Mustang’s hand continued to fall. It didn’t make Mustang stop.

The room fell away, losing importance in Edward’s consciousness. Everything else faded, leaving only the steady beat of Mustang’s hand and his own broken cries. His body shook, trembling against Mustang’s lap. He’d never felt like this before. No one had ever made him feel like this before, and in that strangeness he felt a bond growing, tying him to Mustang more solidly than any rope or chain could. In the midst of the pain, he noticed something else. There was a fire pooling in his belly, growing stronger with each hit. Underneath the pain and the humiliation he felt something else – pleasure.

Edward blushed as he realized how his body was reacting. He could feel himself getting hard. Soon, the colonel would notice and he didn’t think he could live through that.

“S-s-stop.” He squirmed, trying to get away, but his feet couldn’t find purchase.

One of Mustang’s hands grabbed him by the arms, pressing his chest against Mustang’s lap. They both froze. Ed realized suddenly that he wasn’t the only one who’d had a physical reaction to the spanking.

Mustang’s hand let go. Quickly, Ed rolled to the side. His shoulder hit the concrete hard but he ignored it and curled his legs in towards his chest, trying to hide as much of his body as possible. He couldn’t stop crying now that he’d started. The physical pain wasn’t even that bad any more, fading from a sharp sting to a constant ache, but there was more hurt in him than what Mustang had caused. He felt as if his very soul had been ripped apart, shredded by the truth Mustang had shown him.

He felt fingers skim along his hair and curled in tighter. “D-don’t,” he sobbed. He couldn’t bear the colonel’s kindness, not on top of everything else.

The hands didn’t go away. They ran down his arms to the rope binding his arms together. Mustang tugged at the rope, freeing Edward. He whimpered as blood flowed back into his arms, though he knew half the pain was only in his head. There was no blood in his robotic arm, but it still pained him as if it were real. His limbs moved woodenly. He raised his prosthetic arm over his head protectively, and the other reached blindly for his pants. His hand shook too badly to get a hold on the fabric.

One of Mustang’s hands caught his around the wrist. He moved Edward’s hand back towards his chest and released him. A naked palm ran over Ed’s bare thigh, running back and forth over the joint where his leg turned from flesh to covered steel.

He flinched and whimpered softly. He didn’t want this. He didn’t deserve kindness.

The hand ran gently across his skin, almost soothing.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Ed didn’t dignify the question with a response.

The hand moved forward, curling over Edward’s hip and settling along the length of his erection. He jerked in surprise and caught Mustang’s wrist. Fingers brushed along his erection, sending a shiver through Ed’s body. The hand started to move, slowly, closing its fingers around his erection and stroking. Ed’s hand stayed on Mustang’s wrist but he didn’t try to push it away.

“It’s okay.” Mustang’s voice sounded close to his ear. He felt lips brush against his neck. “Shh.”

His tears wouldn’t stop.

Mustang’s hand pulled away. He let it go. He had a brief moment where he both feared and hoped that Mustang might go away. Instead, hands turned him, rolling him so that he faced Mustang again and lifting him up onto Mustang’s lap. The colonel had undone his own pants and his erection stood up proudly. It was thicker than Ed’s and slightly longer. He briefly wondered what it would feel like inside of him and then shoved that thought out of his brain.

He was slid forward until his knees were on either side of Mustang’s own. Ed wrapped his arms around the colonel and buried his face in the colonel’s shirt. The fabric soaked up his tears and muffled his continued sobs. It felt good to be pressed against the colonel, better than it had any right to be, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. A hand ran over his ass, making him wince in pain and jerk his hips forward. His erection bumped against Mustang’s. He hissed again, and this time pain had nothing to do with it.

The hand came back, wrapping around his erection and pressing it against the hot length of Mustang’s cock. He moaned into Mustang’s shoulder. A hand on his lower back held him in place, fingers splayed flat against his skin, underneath his shirt, not moving, just holding. It felt strangely comforting, almost protective – two emotions that he’d never before associated with the colonel.

His hips gradually started to move in time with Mustang’s hand. The colonel was saying something, speaking softly, but his words were lost as Ed’s sobs slowly faded away, replaced by a low series of gasps and pants. The pleasure was almost too much, riding so close behind the recent pain that same hand had given him. Even with Mustang holding him like this, being gentle, he couldn’t stop crying. His hands fisted in the back of Mustang’s shirt. He pressed himself against the colonel.

The hand on his lower back slid down, brushing against the hand prints on his ass and pressing between his cheeks. A finger pressed against his entrance. Ed squirmed slightly in embarrassment, and then the finger moved, pressing slowly, relentlessly inside. He came with a loud gasp.

He felt dirty and sticky and embarrassed, and far too boneless from release to care about any of those things. Mustang’s hand moved away to pull a handkerchief from his pocket. Ed didn’t move, not when Mustang pulled both of their pants back up or lifted Ed back onto the bed or pulled the blankets up to tuck Ed in. The colonel looked down at him with a mixture of sadness and loss and pressed a kiss against Ed’s forehead. His hands brushed the tears from Ed’s cheeks. No more came out to replace them.

“I’m sorry.” Mustang’s voice sounded pained.

The colonel turned to walk away. For a brief second, he had the strange feeling that the colonel wasn’t going to visit him again.

Ed’s hand shot out, grabbing Mustang by the sleeve. He half-turned back. Ed kept his gaze fixed on the floor, belatedly realizing that his eyes had settled on a spot near Mustang’s chair. There were small circles of moisture left there from his tears. They were slowly fading as he watched.

“I’ll help you.”

He glanced up, finally daring to look at the colonel. A smile stretched across Mustang’s face, unlike any of the other smiles he’d seen before. There was no trace of the colonel’s smugness, none of his wry humor. It looked slightly sad.

“Thank you.”

He let go of the colonel’s sleeve. Mustang knocked on the door, three times, a pause, then once more. He turned to look back at Ed again, but didn’t say anything as he walked out the door. It shut behind him but didn’t lock.

Edward let out a slow sigh and closed his eyes. He doubted he was going to get any sleep tonight. His mind buzzed with thoughts – his father, his inventions, his colonel. He had a lot of things to think about, a lot to plan.

His ass still hurt, serving as a reminder of what he’d just done.

He felt free.

“Come on,” Axel whined, rubbing his body against Roxas’s.

“No!” He tried to push Axel off but he was like an octopus, more limbs than he knew what to do with and all of them rubbing against some portion of Roxas’s anatomy.

“Pleeeaaase,” Axel whined. His hands slid the zipper of Roxas’s coat up until his pants were exposed and started playing with the button on his fly. “I’ll be good. Real good.” He dropped to his knees and licked his lips, turning a hopeful gaze up at Roxas. “Please?”

He turned towards the entrance of the alleyway and debated. Someone was going to see them, not likely someone they knew because they were off-world and no other Organization members were supposed to be on this planet, but that hadn’t stopped any of the other Organization members from showing up before. They had a habit of popping in at the least opportune times.

Axel was pulling down the zipper of his pants and mouthing him through his underwear.

There was no way Axel was going to make it back to base like this. Roxas would have to listen to him all the way, and then the others would know, definitively, that they were about to have sex because Axel couldn’t keep his big mouth shut.

Eager hands pulled Roxas’s penis from his pants. Warm lips closed over the tip, and then a wet mouth was sliding down, swallowing him in one go.

Sometimes, he rather liked it when Axel didn’t keep his mouth shut.

He twisted his fingers in Axel’s hair, pulling until his grip was bordering on painful. Axel moaned around his cock. The vibrations shot straight up Roxas’s spine and he hissed in pleasure.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “But make it quick.”

Axel’s mouth made a loud, wet pop as he pulled back. “Fuck me? Please?”

He rolled his eyes to hide how much Axel’s begging affected him. His erection was still in Axel’s hands, so he had a feeling the other man knew.

“I don’t have any lube.”

“I do.” Axel dropped his coat from his shoulders and rummaged in his pocket before letting the fabric fall to the ground. Roxas cringed at the thought of what kind of liquids and refuse the coat was likely lying in.

The redhead turned to face the brick wall behind them and dropped his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He ripped open a small packet and squirted the entire packet into his hand before tossing the empty packet aside. It landed next to his coat.

Roxas didn’t bother hiding his interest as Axel steadied himself with one hand on the wall while the other reached back to push lube-slick fingers inside of himself. Axel moaned, his head falling forward slightly, his long hair obscuring his face. His long fingers slid in and out of him, moving in a quick, harsh rhythm that left him panting loudly. After a minute, Axel pulled his fingers out and reached blindly behind him.

He grabbed Axel’s wrist and guided it where the redhead wanted it to go. Axel’s fingers closed around his erection, sliding his palm around it to coat it with lube.

He didn’t let Axel touch him for long before he pushed the hand away, guiding it forward to press flat against the wall. Less lube was better when Axel was like this. He knew what the redhead wanted. There was enough between them that sex wouldn’t injure Axel, but he’d still feel it for a while, still be sore the entire way home and afterwards. More than anything else, that kind of pain was what Axel was looking for when he begged Roxas for sex.

Axel’s hips felt fragile in his hands, too thin, too boney. They made Roxas regret, almost, what he was about to do. He didn’t like hurting people, not without reason, but that was what Axel wanted. It wasn’t real pain then, not the bad kind. Still, he couldn’t help but think how easy it would be to break Axel, to do real damage. For all his bluster and bravado, he was just a skinny guy with a big mouth.

Roxas shoved forward quickly, moving before he had time to think it through or talk himself out of it. There was no sign of warning that gave Axel time to prepare himself as he was entered roughly. He rocked forward, his head almost touching the wall but his arms tensed at the last second. Axel leaned forward, resting his forehead against the brick and letting out a loud, low moan.

“Please,” he whispered.

He started off slow, moving closer to the rhythm he liked, almost gentle. Axel whined low in his throat. His fingers curled against the wall.

“Please.” He whimpered as Roxas sped up, pushing forward with more force. “Please.”

As much as he disliked purposefully hurting Axel, he loved how it felt. Axel was tight around him. There hadn’t been time to properly loosen him up. Each thrust probably felt like it was burning inside of Axel, stretching him wide and forcing him to open up to Roxas’s invading flesh. He knew from experience, and from the constant litany of sounds that Axel made, that Axel was enjoying it. His flesh clamped around Roxas, squeezing him tight until he had to bite his lower lip to keep from coming too soon.

“Please, please, please, please.” Axel was gasping for air, his face pressed against the wall, eyes closed in bliss.

Roxas tightened his grip on Axel’s hips and pulled Axel back into his thrusts, pounding as hard as he could. His hips slapped against Axel’s hips, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing through the alleyway. Axel’s voice rose in pitch. He sounded frantic, desperate. He was close. All it would take was a touch to set him off. Roxas pried one hand off his hip and started to reach forward.

There was a flash of light at the entrance to the alleyway. Roxas turned but couldn’t quite make his hips stop. A large, portly man with rolled up sleeves and dirty boots stood staring at them, his cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, lighter forgotten in his hand. His surprise turned to hatred.

“Faggots,” he spat the word out with his cigarette, grinding the lit end out beneath his boot. He started to turn.

Axel rolled his head and glared. His eyes sparked seconds before his hand shot out, sending a sharp ring of flaming metal straight at the man. The stranger screamed and fled. Axel’s chuckle was cut off by a moan as Roxas smacked their hips together. His eye closed again, his hand returning to the wall.

“Guess I was…” He let out a throaty moan. “…too flaming… for him.”

Roxas didn’t bother to respond. He closed his hand around Axel’s erection and jacked quickly. Axel came a second after he touched him, shouting loudly as his seed splattered against the wall. Some of it fell on his pants and coat. He knew Axel wasn’t going to care. Axel kept moaning as Roxas continued to thrust for another minute before he let himself go. He came inside of Axel, not making any sound other than a soft sign as he finally finished. His hips kept pumping forward for a few more seconds, making his seed spill out and start to run in thin rivulets down Axel’s thighs.

He stepped back and pulled a tissue from his pocket, wiping himself off then tossing the tissue in a dumpster. He offered a tissue to Axel. The redhead waved him off with a grin and started to pull his pants up.

Roxas raised an eyebrow and fixed his pants. “That can’t be comfortable.”

Axel grinned back at him and bent to pick up his coat. The black fabric hid most of the stains, but there were a few discolored spots faintly visible on the fabric. “That’s the point.”

He shook his head but knew better than to argue.

Iruka opened the door on the second knock. He stared in surprise at the man standing on the other side – none other than Hatake Kakashi, the legendary Copy-Nin.

“Yo!” Kakashi greeted, his one visible eye half-closed in an approximation of a smile.

He smiled back and hid his nervousness. “Ah… hello. Can I help you, Hatake-san?”

The white-haired jounin held up a folded piece of paper between two fingers. “Letter for you.”

Iruka blinked. He glanced at his mail box, less than a foot away from his door. He looked back at the paper. There didn’t seem to be any of the normal post marks on it.

“From Naruto,” Kakashi added.

“Oh!” Iruka’s eyes widened. He stepped back quickly. “Thank you! Please, come in.”

Kakashi smiled at him and stepped inside, toeing his shoes off by the door. Iruka headed towards the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything? Tea? Cookies?”

The jounin waved off his concern. Kakashi paused in Iruka’s living room, eyes scanning the room, taking in the myriad photos on the walls and the messy sprawl of papers across the coffee table, before dropping gracefully to the floor. Iruka changed directions and resumed his seat on the other side of the table. He quickly straightened up his pile of papers, smoothing them into two stacks.

“Grading?”

Iruka nodded, a faint blush stealing across his face though he had no idea why. There wasn’t anything particularly embarrassing about doing his job, but he always got a bit unnerved in Kakashi’s presence. He blamed it on the Chuunin Exams. He knew now that he shouldn’t have said anything, that his students had been fine, had been ready, but he couldn’t help his desire to protect his students, Naruto especially. Part of him would always associate Kakashi with his outburst over the exams and the residual embarrassment that still lingered because of it.

He doubted Kakashi even remembered the incident, or gave it much thought, but that didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach subside any sooner.

“Here.”

Iruka blinked as the paper was handed across the table. He unfolded it, noting absently that the seal had already been broken. He glanced over at the jounin. Kakashi was staring at one of the photos on the wall, his attention focused on it as if Iruka wasn’t even in the room. He resisted the urged to look over to see which photo had Kakashi so enthralled. Two names stood out at the top of the paper. Belatedly, he realized the letter wasn’t addressed only to him.

“You’ve read this already?”

Kakashi nodded absently, but didn’t say anything.

He started to read.

Dear Kakashi-sensei and Iruka-sensei,

Jiraiya’s making me write to you both at the same time. He says he can’t spare much paper, and that I shouldn’t bother writing at all since it could give away where we are and it’s supposed to be a secret, but he writes all the time, working on those pervy novels that Kakashi-sensei likes so much, so I think he just doesn’t want to give me more than a few sheets at a time. Such a stingy guy! And, a big pervert too. He tries to tell me about his books but then I throw things at him and he stops. You’d be proud, Iruka-sensei, he’s as much a stickler for making sure I eat vegetables as you are, so don’t worry. I know you are anyways, but he’s taking care of me.

I’m getting a lot stronger, and learning a lot, most of which Jiraiya won’t let me talk about. We can spar when I get back, and then I can show you both all the cool things I learned.

There are a lot of really neat animals where we are. Lots of frogs and toads, though Jiraiya gets mad when I start hopping around like they do. I think it’s fun! I chased one through the woods the other day and then it blew up. Not my fault, I swear.

It’s warm here, and we sleep in the trees most nights. It reminds me a lot of home, but the trees aren’t the same kinds of trees and there are things that keep reminding me how different everything is. We went into one of the local villages the other day and Jiraiya bought me ramen. It didn’t taste the same. Jiraiya said it was because they used different spices but I think they just don’t know how to cook right. A lot of the food is different here. Most of it involves this spicy brown stuff and they do weird things with their rice.

I hope you two are doing well. Don’t give the kids too much homework, Iruka-sensei, and try not to be too much of a pervert, Kakashi-sensei.

I miss you, and want to come home, but I’ve got a long way to go until I’m strong enough.

Naruto

P.S. Also, Kakashi-sensei, you should totally take Iruka-sensei out for ramen for me since he probably misses going, though I know it’s not the same without me, but say hi to the old guy at Ichiraku for me.

Iruka read the letter a second time before he put it down. He couldn’t seem to stop grinning. Even miles away, Naruto still knew how to make him smile. He held out the letter towards Kakashi.

“Did you want this back?”

Kakashi shook his head and turned to watch Iruka with a lazy smile. He was slightly curious why Kakashi had sat around watching Iruka read. “Then, why…”

“Ramen?”

A blush spread across Iruka’s face and he looked away hastily. “You shouldn’t take Naruto so seriously. You don’t have to take me for ramen. I can go later.”

“I know,” Kakashi said, his gaze never leaving Iruka. He didn’t move.

“Oh.” Iruka could feel his blush getting worse. He looked at the clock. It was late for lunch, early for dinner. Ichiraku’s would be mostly empty. “Did you want to…?”

“Sure.” Kakashi hopped to his feet and extended a hand down. Iruka looked at the hand and flushed before accepting it.

Kakashi’s hand lingered for a moment longer than strictly necessary before pulling away. Iruka had a feeling that his blush would be stuck on his face for a long while.

*****

The second letter came three months after the first. Kakashi was waiting perched on the wall outside of the mission room when Iruka’s shift ended. Iruka smiled as he noticed the jounin, his grin widening as he saw the familiar-looking paper held at the jounin’s side. Kakashi’s eyes followed him as he approached, the usual one-eyed grin on his face.

“Another letter?”

Kakashi nodded and pushed off from the wall. “Ramen?”

Iruka smiled. Dinner with the jounin was starting to become a regular occurrence. They’d been out together a few times since Naruto’s first letter, their dinners together growing in frequency until it was a nearly weekly event.

“I’d love to.”

Kakashi fell in stride next to him and handed over the paper. Iruka hesitated briefly, torn between reading the letter immediately and actually paying attention to where he was going. The letter won. He trusted Kakashi to keep him from walking into anything.

Dear Kakashi-sensei and Iruka-sensei,

Did you have ramen? I did! We finally found a place that makes the real stuff, without any of that crappy brown stuff. I still want more. Jiraiya would only let me have five bowls.

I ran into Gaara a few weeks ago. We fought a little, until the old pervert made us stop, but it was a friendly fight not a trying to kill each other fight. I think I won, but Gaara wouldn’t agree with me. His brother and sister were there too. I don’t think his brother likes me, but his sister’s alright in a scary kind of way. She reminds me of Sakura. Speaking of which, say hi to her for me.

I think Jiraiya was over-reacting about the fighting thing. He said that we shouldn’t draw too much attention to ourselves, but he and I fight all the time while we’re training. He says it’s just a difference of location – when I spar with the old pervert it’s usually in the woods or out away from the villages, but I wouldn’t have run into Gaara there so we couldn’t really help it. None of the villagers got hurt and we didn’t destroy anything. Much. Nothing important at least.

Kakashi-sensei, do me a favor and make sure Iruka-sensei doesn’t get too lonely. He’s my only family, and I’m his, so I’m sure he’s not used to his house being so quiet for so long.

Sometimes I wake up and think I’m still in Konoha. I imagine I’m sleeping on Iruka-sensei’s couch again, and breakfast is almost ready. I think that’s one of the things I miss most about Konoha – having Iruka-sensei waking me up in the morning with a smile and telling me food is ready.

Iruka-sensei, you should totally have Kakashi-sensei over some time and cook breakfast for him, though considering how late he usually is, you should say it’s breakfast and then expect him for lunch. Make the beef pot that I like so much. I know he’s a total pervert, but he can’t cook at all, so he really likes it when he’s around people who know how to cook. Ask him about that time with the old lady in the village and the chickens. He’ll know. He burnt toast. Toast. Even I can do that. Sometimes. I’ve gotten better.

Naruto

Iruka turned to the jounin with a wide grin. “Chickens?”

“Well…” Kakashi stared up at the sky, watching the clouds pass. “It’s not as interesting as he makes it sound.”

Iruka grinned and tried very hard not to laugh. “Of course, Kakashi-sensei. I’m sure it’s all very respectable.”

Kakashi gave him a look. They both started laughing, and didn’t stop until they ordered their ramen.

*****

The sixth letter was delivered late at night.

It’d been a long day for Iruka. One of his kids had nearly blown up the Academy by trying out an advanced jutsu his older brother had taught him, improperly taught nonetheless. Parents had been called and Iruka had had to play the placating game. Then he’d been late to his shift in the mission room, and it seemed a group of jounin had gotten their panties twisted today.

Iruka doubted that that particular group was ever going to make the mistake of calling Iruka ‘lowly’ again, at least not with that many other jounin around. Jounin who, as it turned out, were remarkably fond of Iruka. It might have had something to do with his yearly Christmas cookies. As it was, he’d barely restrained Genma from stabbing one in the eye with his senbon, and he still wasn’t sure where all of Anko’s snake summons had ended up. Of course, Tsunade had just laughed about the whole thing, but when the troublemaking group had left her office – her very quiet office, so she hadn’t yelled – they’d been very, very pale and very, very quiet.

He was a little pleased that he hadn’t even had to raise his own voice, but he still had a feeling that some of them might find their clothing patched with interesting slogans if they ever tried to belittle him again. Or if he was bored. The night was young.

But, instead of plotting revenge, he found a smiling jounin knocking on his door well past the hour when Iruka should have been going to bed.

It was a Friday and Kakashi had a bottle of sake with him. Iruka let him in with a growing smile. His smile widened as he caught sight of the tell-tale paper.

“I’ll get cups,” he said as he left Kakashi to remove his shoes in the entrance way.

Iruka’s sake set was up on the top shelf of one of his cabinets. He dragged it out with a smile, thinking with fondness of the last time he’d used it, with Anko a few weeks ago.

“I hear you’ve had a busy day?”

Iruka groaned and turned to give Kakashi a reproachful look as the jounin leaned in the kitchen doorway. “Please. Don’t remind me. I’ve had enough jounin brawls and explosions to last me for a good long while.”

Somehow he could tell Kakashi’s grin was devilish, even with the mask covering his face. “Really? Are you sure? I was just thinking about starting one tomorrow, but if you don’t want me to…”

“No,” he said as sternly as he could muster, which wasn’t very stern since he was also trying not to laugh at the same time. “I’ll pass on that, thank you.”

“Suit yourself. The offer still stands.”

Iruka chuckled and carrying the sake set to the table. Kakashi took it away from him with a grin and handed him the letter.

“You want to read that.”

Iruka raised an eyebrow but settled down to read while Kakashi poured them sake.

Dear Kakashi-sensei and Iruka-sensei,

I’m totally going to kick Kakashi-sensei’s ass when I get home. Just saying. I’ve gotten that good, though Jiraiya won’t admit it. He’s been teaching me more things that my dad used to be able to do. It’s gonna be so awesome! Konohamaru will not want to miss it!

So I was telling Jiraiya about you two the other day. Well, he knows Kakashi-sensei, since Kakashi-sensei is like the biggest fan of his novels and all that, but he didn’t know Iruka-sensei. I totally told him all the awesome things we used to do together, and he thinks you’re super-cool, Iruka-sensei, ’cause I told him you were. Anyways, I was telling him about how I told you both to have dinner, and he said that I was totally right in that, though he used different words like ‘alone time’ and ‘establishing a casual dynamic’. He’s weird. But he said he was going to write a book about you two. It’ll be super cool. And it’s not going to be part of that pervy series he writes. He said that it wouldn’t fit that kind of demo-something. It’ll be for a whole new audience, he said. Some guys, but he said there’d be a lot of chicks who’d want to read about you two as well. Isn’t that cool?

The way he talks makes it sound like it’s going to be really awesome. I thought briefly that I might want him to write about me someday but I know he’d totally get it all wrong. My sheer awesomeness can’t be caught on paper. I don’t think it’d come out right. He says I’m named after one of his characters, but I don’t believe him. I bet him ramen when we get back to Konoha. It’s gonna be tasty when I win.

So, Iruka-sensei, did you cook for Kakashi-sensei like I told you to? If you haven’t, get on it. I told Jiraiya about that part too, but he was more interested in stories about how you’re a teacher, though he kept asking all sorts of weird questions. He says it’s ‘reference’ so that he can ‘know the whole character’, but does he really need to know what kind of underwear you wear to write a book? I think that’s just totally weird, but then he’s weird and a perv so it fits that he thinks about non-pervy things in a pervy way, like his mind’s wired that way or something.

Don’t worry, Iruka-sensei, I’m not going to turn into a perv like him. I’ve had practice training with Kakashi-sensei. I’m starting to wonder which of them is the bigger perv – the one who reads porn all day or the one who writes it. No offense, Kakashi-sensei.

Have you been using the sake set I got you for your birthday, Iruka-sensei? If not, you totally should. Have people over. You don’t do that often enough, and you need to spend more time with your friends to make up for the fact that I’m not there to keep you company all the time.

Tell Konohamaru how awesome I’m getting. And don’t mention the new book. Jiraiya said that it was a secret.

Naruto

Iruka stared at the letter for a long time before he very carefully put it down, resisting the urge to tear it to shreds in fury.

“Would Jiraiya really….” He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know, or he’d storm out of Konoha and make a very big mess of things. He didn’t know where the old pervert even was, which was probably a really, really good thing.

Kakashi sipped at his sake and shrugged. “He’ll change the names at least. He’d make you Shiruka or something.”

Iruka twitched slightly.

“Should be a good book. I’ll buy you a copy.”

Two things were not adding up in Iruka’s mind, and with his fury over Jiraiya’s new novel, it was taking them a moment to connect. Kakashi was sipping from his sake cup, had been for most of the time that Iruka had been reading. There was another cup of sake in front of Iruka, which he grabbed and downed in one gulp, hoping the alcohol would calm his outrage a little. It made his cheeks flush as it burned a line down his chest. Kakashi was drinking but not moving to lower his mask. He didn’t need to.

Iruka froze and stared. Kakashi’s mask was down, left hanging loose around his throat. His first thought was that there was nothing remarkable about the lower half of Kakashi’s face that warranted hiding it behind a mask. His second was that Kakashi’s face was actually quite attractive. His third, which might be slightly influenced by the sake hitting his stomach and expanding out to leave his entire body tingling, was that Kakashi’s lips seemed even more kissable, more desirable, because they were hidden so often.

“Oh,” he said, as everything slowly clicked into place.

Kakashi refilled both of their cups. His smile seemed so much brighter without the mask in the way. Iruka turned his gaze down before his face started flushing again, and took a long drink of sake. He had a feeling about the inevitable outcome of their conversation, but he wasn’t sure what he should say or do to help move things forward. His brain was still stuck on the fact that Kakashi’s mask was down.

Suddenly Kakashi was standing. Iruka’s mouth opened in surprise. Had he done something wrong? “Kakashi…?”

The jounin circled the table and flopped down next to Iruka. His thigh brushed against Iruka’s, causing the chuunin to blush further. “Relax.”

One of Kakashi’s arms landed around Iruka’s shoulders. The contact tingled all the way down Iruka’s back. He forced himself to relax as Kakashi leaned in. His eyes drifted closed.

The kiss was better than he would have expected. Kakashi’s lips pressed against his own, softly at first, then deepening as Iruka leaned into the kiss. He shifted, turning slightly so that he could wind his arms around Kakashi’s shoulders. Kakashi’s tongue slid against his. There were hands toying with the hem of his shirt. He moaned into the kiss. Blunt nails scraped across his sides.

Iruka leaned back, pulling Kakashi to lie on top of him in the narrow space between the couch and the coffee table. He could feel Kakashi’s smirk against his lips. The jounin made a small, approving sound as he settled on top of Iruka. A leg slid between Iruka’s and he let it, pulling his legs apart so that Kakashi could settle between them.

Their hips met, sending a jolt of pleasure up Iruka’s spine. He broke the kiss to gasp, arching up into Kakashi. The jounin chuckled slightly and nuzzled his nose against Iruka’s neck.

“You know, there might be some things in Jiraiya’s books that you aren’t familiar with.” Kakashi’s lips brushed teasingly against Iruka’s neck as he spoke.

Iruka let his hands twist into Kakashi’s hair, holding the jounin against him. Slowly, he lifted his legs to hook around Kakashi’s waist. He pushed up. “I think I’ve got a good grasp on the material.”

His shirt was pushed up to his armpits. “Are you sure? There might be a bit of… advanced material. Kinky stuff.”

He could only watch in fascination as Kakashi’s head moved down, leaving a wet trail of kisses across Iruka’s stomach.

“I… I think I can manage.”

One of Kakashi’s hands slid under the hem of Iruka’s pants. He jumped as slightly cold fingers found his erection. A low moan fell from his lips and he felt his hips start to move, writhing up in time with Kakashi’s hand.

“Like that?”

He nodded mutely.

Kakashi’s hand pulled away. Iruka almost protested the loss but it didn’t go far, just to the edge of Iruka’s pants, pushing the fabric down until his erection was free. He gasped as cool air hit over-sensitized flesh. Then Kakashi slid down. He grinned up at Iruka for a brief moment before licking his lips and dropping his head, engulfing Iruka in one swift swallow.

Iruka cried out. One of his hands tightened in Kakashi’s hair while the other clenched in the fabric of Kakashi’s shirt. He moaned the jounin’s name, then repeated it again, louder, as Kakashi started bobbing his head, licking his way up and down Iruka’s erection. It’d been a while for Iruka. Long enough that he found his defenses unraveling around a warm, wet mouth, and when Kakashi’s fingers started to move, teasing at the flesh around the base of his erection, winding through the short hairs there to tug possessively and then move down, circling his entrance.

He came into Kakashi’s mouth as a single, thin finger pushed inside of him.

Kakashi’s lips were wet when he pulled back, looking like a very smug cat. He grinned down at Iruka and ran his hands over the insides of Iruka’s naked thighs.

“Shall we try the bedroom for the second half?”

Iruka nodded rapidly. That was possibly the best idea he’d ever heard from the jounin’s lips. Kakashi pulled him to his feet, his hands wandering down to rub over Iruka’s ass with obvious interest.

“If you’d like, you could stay for breakfast in the morning.” Iruka smiled. “I believe I owe you one.”

The answering grin Kakashi gave him made Iruka’s heart flutter. “I believe you’ve just stumbled on the secret of getting me somewhere early in the morning.”

Iruka led the way towards the bedroom. “I’ll have to make use of that in the future.”

Kakashi’s hands stayed on his waist as they moved towards Iruka’s bed. “I think it can be arranged.”

They fell to the bed laughing.

*****

Iruka was worried. He might have past worried, and moved into panicked, but he didn’t count himself objective enough at the moment to differentiation. His students had noticed and were on their best behavior, sitting quietly during class and doing their best to stay out of Iruka’s way. The chuunin and jounin that came into the Mission Room had noticed and they’d had a rash of clean, well-written reports.

If he’d known that all it would take to get both halves of his life to behave was to lose his temper and threaten to simultaneously castrate and defenestrate a high-ranking jounin who tried to pick a fight with him, he would have let his temper out of its cage a long time ago.

In retrospect, he might have overreacted just a tiny bit, but he blamed that entirely on his nerves. He couldn’t sit still. He paced constantly, in front of his class, or when off duty, roaming through the alleys and side streets of Konoha late into the night. His body was overflowing with nervous energy, leaving him restless and constantly on edge. Genma and Anko had offered to spar with him occasionally, which helped at least to tire him out enough to get some sleep but it didn’t do anything to alleviate the cause for his worry.

It’d been six months since his last letter from Naruto, which was two months longer than the largest gap between letters to date. Kakashi was gone, had been gone for approaching a month and a half on some sort of secret mission.

He desperately hoped that they were both safe and fine and not lying dead in a ditch in the middle of nowhere but he couldn’t help but worry. Naruto was like a son to him and Kakashi…. He was pretty sure he was in love with Kakashi, which was going to make for a very interesting conversation whenever Naruto got back.

Iruka moved between the rooms of his house mechanically, searching for something to do or clean or fix that he hadn’t already taken care of. His house was spotless. His shelves had been rearranged twice, furniture moved, walls repainted, clothing repaired, cabinets restocked.

The knock on his door came as blessed relief. Iruka wrenched the door open, expecting to find Genma or Anko or even Gai there, but instead his jaw dropped as recognition hit him.

“Yo!” Kakashi waved at him and then moved past him towards the living room.

Iruka slammed the door shut and pounced. Kakashi’s reflexes took over instantly and Iruka found himself pinned to the floor beneath the jounin, his hands held tightly above his head. The jounin stared down at him, his expression slowly softening.

“Missed me?” He let go of Iruka’s hands. Iruka felt a brief pang of disappointment run through him.

He reached up, moving slowly this time so that he didn’t trigger any of Kakashi’s automatic defenses, and cupped the jounin’s face in both of his hands. He slowly peeled down Kakashi’s mask. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Iruka leaned up to kiss Kakashi as thoroughly as possible, using his lips and tongue to convey all of the worry and fear and desperation he’d kept trapped inside the last few weeks. His hands moved over Kakashi’s body, stripping away his clothing piece by piece.

Hands caught his as he started to undo Kakashi’s pants. The jounin pulled away.

“Wait.” Iruka was rather pleased with himself at how breathless the jounin sounded. “I have something for you.”

His breath caught in his throat. He’d asked at the office just this morning. No one had come in with a letter, but he couldn’t stop himself from hoping that maybe Naruto had sent word through a less than conventional channel. Maybe it’d been waiting this whole time, until Kakashi got back.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“There’s a message from Naruto. No letter this time.”

All the tension that had been built up in Iruka’s body, winding him tighter than a spring, left him, all at once. He collapsed bonelessly against the floor. It wasn’t a letter, but at least it was something. A message meant that Naruto was still alive, somewhere.

“What is it?”

Kakashi smiled down at him and brushed his hand through Iruka’s hair. His fingers found the tie of Iruka’s ponytail and pulled it loose.

“I saw him, in person, a few weeks ago. He wanted me to tell you that he’s okay and that he’s sorry he hasn’t written.”

Iruka blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. He was so happy that Naruto was alright, so happy that he finally knew. He should have known better than to doubt either of them.

“Thank you.” He couldn’t help the bit of emotion that crept into his voice. He knew Kakashi would understand. “Thank you for letting me know.”

Kakashi smiled at him fondly. “That’s not all. He told me to tell you that he’s coming back soon, and he wanted me to give you something.”

“What’s that?”

Kakashi’s arms slipped under Iruka’s back and lifted him, pulling him into a tight hug. After a moment of confusion, Iruka relaxed into the embrace and let his arms wrap around Kakashi. It felt nice, comforting. He didn’t ever want to let go.

“There’s something from Jiraiya too.”

Iruka pulled back slightly, hanging mid-air, supported by Kakashi’s arms. He quirked an eyebrow at the jounin and was almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”

Kakashi pulled him up until he was sitting astride the jounin’s lap and kissed him with fervor. Iruka’s mind lost all thought and he kissed back, pushing against the jounin until they were chest to chest. Their hands moved in concert, stripping Iruka of his shirt so that they could feel skin against skin. Once the fabric was gone, both of Kakashi’s hands moved down to cup Iruka’s ass, fondling him roughly and pulling his hips against Kakashi.

He was gasping for breath by the time they parted. “That was from Jiraiya?”

Kakashi leered at him. “Something from his book, apparently.”

Iruka felt his face heat. He opened his mouth to complain but a low groan came out instead. Kakashi’s hands hadn’t moved and they were starting to become a distraction. He fidgeted in Kakashi’s lap, hissing slightly as the movement rubbed Kakashi’s obvious erection against his hips. Mentally, he cursed the layers of fabric still between them.

“I… I’m not… going to… like it… am I?” It was hard to speak when there was a set of very talented lips against his throat.

“I’d be glad to help you explore the finer points of Jiraiya’s literature. You might even come to appreciate it.”

He felt his blush creep towards his ears and into his scalp. “I’m not reading that filth.” His proclamation might have been a bit more effective if it his breath hadn’t hitched in the middle. Kakashi’s hands were moving him forward, rubbing their hips together in a very suggestive rhythm.

“I never said anything about reading.”

Kakashi’s teeth closed over his collarbone, drowning out any retort he might have made with a loud moan. His back hit the floor and then the last of his clothes were peeled away, leaving him naked and exposed, sprawled scant feet away from the front door. Fingers pressed against his entrance. He arched into the touch.

“Kakashi…” He moaned and dug his fingers into Kakashi’s shoulders. “Kakashi… lube…”

The jounin cursed slightly and pulled his hands away to fumble with his vest. He grinned triumphantly as he pulled a thin tube of ointment out of one of his pockets. Iruka whimpered in anticipation. As soon as Kakashi came within reach, he grasped for the jounin’s pants, undoing the front with shaking fingers.

Kakashi took one of Iruka’s hands and squeezed ointment onto his palm. He guided Iruka’s hand to his erection, and started stroking, moving their hands together over the jounin’s erection, spreading the ointment over Kakashi’s erection. After a few strokes, Kakashi let go and spread ointment across his own fingers.

Iruka kept his eyes on Kakashi as he spread his legs, pulling up his knees to give Kakashi more room. He groaned loudly as Kakashi’s fingers pressed inside, three at once. It hurt slightly, but the pleasure outweighed the pain. He lost his rhythm on Kakashi’s cock, too distracted by the fingers spreading him open to concentrate on what his hand was doing. He wanted Kakashi now. He wanted it to hurt a bit, anything if it got Kakashi inside him sooner.

“Kakashi. Kakashi, I want you in me.” The jounin’s fingers curled, making Iruka buck. He gasped and grabbed Kakashi by the hair. “Fuck me. Now. Need you.”

The jounin grinned down at him. “Your wish is my command.”

Kakashi’s arms hooked under Iruka’s knees, holding his legs apart as he shifted forward, his hands holding Iruka by the hips. He pulled Kakashi’s head down until he could kiss him. He whimpered as Kakashi pressed against him, trembling in anticipation. The feeling of Kakashi pushing inside of him was pure bliss. He’d missed this. He’d missed it almost as much as he missed the letters. Kakashi’s mouth moved against his, muffling the loud moan that escaped him as Kakashi seated himself fully.

The floorboards were cool against his back, thankfully providing enough traction that he didn’t start sliding across the floor as soon as Kakashi started thrusting. He devoured Kakashi’s mouth. Their tongues slid over and around each other. He pulled away to lightly bite Kakashi’s lower lip, releasing the flesh when Kakashi pounded into him hard enough to lift his hips. His head feel back and he moaned, voice getting louder and more erratic with every thrust.

He was going to bruise but he didn’t care. The bruises would be worth it. They’d be reminders, long after Kakashi had left in the morning, that Kakashi was back and safe and still alive.

Iruka looked up at Kakashi. He was panting with every thrust but that just made Kakashi pound into him harder. Both of the jounin’s eyes were open, watching him intently. He was as breathless as Iruka, but he at least controlled it better. Kakashi’s breath escaped in quiet pants. Iruka’s wanton moans were almost obscenely loud in counterpoint.

Kakashi lifted him, pulling his hips up off the floor and shifting them until he was hitting Iruka at an angle that made the pleasure unbearable. He came hard, spilling his seed across his chest and moaning Kakashi’s name. Kakashi thrust into him a few more times and then he followed Iruka, coming inside of Iruka with a smug expression on his face and a soft groan.

His feet were lowered gently to the floor as Kakashi slowly disentangled them.

“Did I make up for my absence?”

It took Iruka a moment to catch his breath long enough to respond. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’ll do.” He laughed. It took on a bit of a desperate note towards the end.

Kakashi’s fingers brushed against his cheek. His smile softened.

Iruka wrapped his arms around Kakashi’s shoulders and pulled him down. The jounin’s elbows rested against the floor on either side of Iruka’s head. He pressed his face against Iruka’s hair, nuzzling against Iruka.

They stayed together like that, silent and wrapped around each other for a long while.

*****

Iruka smiled when he heard the knock on the door and happily put down his pen. Grading could wait a bit longer. He opened the door quickly, not at all surprised to find Kakashi standing on his doorstep. His smile widened as he noticed the piece of paper in Kakashi’s hand. Kakashi handed it over before he even took a step into the apartment.

He opened it and then froze.

“This is blank.”

Kakashi grinned at him. “I know.”

The jounin stepped aside and Iruka’s eyes widened as he was suddenly tackled by an enthusiastic orange blob. He tumbled backwards, landing hard on the floor. Kakashi grinned down at them.

“I thought a personal delivery might go a bit better.”

Naruto pulled backwards to give Iruka a gigantic, toothy grin. “I’m home! Did you miss me?”

He couldn’t seem to stop grinning. “Yes. I missed you a lot.”

Naruto pulled back suddenly, dragging Iruka up with him. “Kakashi said we can go to ramen. Can we go? Can we go?”

His eyes moved from Naruto to Kakashi and back again. There was only one possible answer.

“Of course,” Iruka said. “My treat.”

Naruto’s excited cheers could be heard for half a block.

He locked the door as they left and quickly activated his wards. Naruto was already down the road ahead of them, Kakashi stood nearby waiting for him. Even with Kakashi’s mask up, he could still picture the exact smile that the jounin was giving him.

“Relieved to have him back?” Kakashi asked softly, his voice pitched low enough that Naruto couldn’t hear.

“I’m relieved to have you both home safe.”

Kakashi smiled at him fondly and twined their fingers together. They followed Naruto at a more sedate pace.

Naruto turned a short ways ahead of them, his mouth open to say something. He stopped as his eyes landed on their joined hands and a dopey grin broke across his face.

“It’s about time.”

Iruka leaned slightly against Kakashi, reveling in the feeling of the jounin so close to him. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

He knew that Naruto and Kakashi would have to leave eventually. He wasn’t sure whether it was good fortune or misfortune that the two people that meant the most to him were both highly active ninja, but for now, for the brief time he had, he felt comforted knowing that they were both here with him. When that changed, he trusted that they were strong enough to keep themselves and each other safe. No matter where they went, eventually Kakashi and Naruto would come back to him.

They were his family.

“Rikuo!”

He looked up from the book he’d been reading in time to see Saiga stumble into the room with Kazahaya slung half over his shoulder. The blonde was giggling and whispering in Saiga’s ear. Rikuo’s eyebrow raised as Saiga shuddered, actually shuddered, over one of the things Kazahaya said to him. Saiga dragged Kazahaya to Rikuo and flung him unceremoniously over the edge of the couch.

“Hey!” Rikuo protested as the blonde landed heavily on top of him.

“Your problem now,” Saiga said, with a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t care any more. I don’t want to see him again until that wears off.”

“What wears off?”

The door slammed shut behind Saiga. Rikuo could feel his temper beginning to rise.

He looked down at the blonde. Kazahaya stared up at him with a wide, uncharacteristic grin spread across his face. He lay sprawled on his back between Rikuo’s legs, his head cushioned on Rikuo’s crotch. Any other day, being caught in a position like this would have made Kazahaya splutter and flail and try to move away as fast as possible. Instead the currently fucked-up version of Kazahaya seemed quite content.

“Oh, hi, Rikuo. When did you get here?” Kazahaya pushed himself up and twisted, turning his body around until his chest was pressed against Rikuo.

“I’ve been here. All afternoon. You’re the one that left.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” Kazahaya’s hands fell on either side of Rikuo’s chest and he slid up Rikuo’s body.

Rikuo winced, and tried to keep from shuddering as Kazahaya’s body dragged very purposefully over a certain sensitive area of Rikuo’s anatomy.

“Kazahaya, where did Kakei send you?”

The blonde giggled again, and Rikuo would die a happy man if he never heard that weird, creepy sound again. It was unnatural from a man who usually screamed and ranted and screeched like a disgruntled alley cat. “On a mission.”

He rolled his eyes and forced himself not to sigh. “I figured that part out.”

Kazahaya licked his lips and hovered at eye level with Rikuo. This was almost as good of blackmail material as the time Kazahaya had gotten all wound up from the chocolate. “Nothing much. Find a book. Give book to girl. Don’t stop and read the book.”

“Did you?”

“Hmm?” Kazahaya’s gaze was very intently following Rikuo’s lips.

“Did you read the book?”

There was that giggle again. “Maaaybeee,” Kazahaya replied in sing-song.

Rikuo opened his mouth to yell at Kazahaya but insistent lips got there first. He jumped, startled, as Kazahaya kissed him, quite enthusiastically, on the mouth. Kazahaya’s tongue took advantage of the opening presented to it and slipped inside of Rikuo’s mouth to trace strange symbols on the roof of his mouth. If he let himself think of the kiss rationally, as someone other than Kazahaya kissing him, it was nice. Rather nice, and more than a little hot with the added help of Kazahaya’s body writhing very insistently against him.

He pushed the blonde away. “No.”

“But whyyyyy?”

He stared. Kazahaya was whining. At him. Because he wouldn’t let Kazahaya kiss him. Whatever was in that book, Rikuo decided he never ever wanted to know. He was not letting Kazahaya go on single missions again. Obviously the boy could not keep himself out of trouble.

“You don’t want to do this.”

Kazahaya tried to squirm around Rikuo’s hands but Rikuo caught him. “I really, really do.”

Rikuo shook his head. He couldn’t believe the insanity of their current conversation. Kazahaya was going to die of embarrassment when the effects of the book wore off.

“Pleeeaaassse?” Kazahaya whined. His hips wriggled against Rikuo’s, making it very hard for Rikuo to remember why he was stopping Kazahaya and not just going along with it.

“You’ll thank me in the morning. I expect breakfast for at least the next week.”

Kazahaya grinned widely. “Or you could make me breakfast. I think pancakes are the tradition.”

One of his hands twisted loose of Rikuo’s grip and popped the button on his pants.

“Hey!” He grabbed both of Kazahaya’s wrists securely and glared at the blonde. “You don’t want to be going there.”

“Oh, but I do.” Kazahaya sent him a mischievous smirk before he slid down, his hands held over Rikuo’s chest, his head suddenly level with Rikuo’s crotch. Rikuo froze as Kazahaya’s mouth opened. For a brief second he saw images of how badly this could go, but Kazahaya’s teeth managed to close securely around the zipper to Rikuo’s pants and pull it down.

“Whoa!” He bucked in surprise as Kazahaya mouthed him through his underwear and he decided restraining Kazahaya’s hands was not his top priority. His hands twisted in Kazahaya’s hair. He briefly thought about how nice the hair felt in his hands, smooth and soft, running through his fingers, before he pulled Kazahaya’s head away.

He really shouldn’t have let go of Kazahaya’s hands. They dived down, taking over where his mouth had left off to slide into the slit of his boxers and pull his erection out into the cool air. Rikuo hissed in surprise as two thin, delicate hands wrapped around him, stroking eagerly.

“No! Bad puppy!”

Kazahaya just grinned at him as Rikuo let go of his head to pull his hands away. He couldn’t win. Warm, wet heat surrounded him as Kazahaya’s mouth replaced his hands, sucking him down in one quick swallow.

“Fuck!” Rikuo’s hips pushed up instinctively. He gave Kazahaya points for not chocking. Instead, the blonde bobbed with the movement and then continued going, bouncing his head over Rikuo’s cock as he noisily sucked him. It felt good. Really, really good, considering it’d been a long time since he’d felt any kind of release not from his own hand. He was tempted to give in.

“Kazahaya.” The blonde looked up at him without stopping and that sight, by far, was possibly one of the most erotic things Rikuo had ever seen in his life. He groaned and tried to remember why this was a bad idea. “Stop.”

Kazahaya’s mouth pulled off of him with a loud, wet pop. “Only if you’ll fuck me.”

Rikuo’s mouth fell open in shock. “What?”

Kazahaya smiled and slid up Rikuo’s body again. He nibbled a path from Rikuo’s neck to his lips and planted a wet, salty kiss on Rikuo’s lips. This time, he let Kazahaya deepen the kiss and kissed back, feeling slightly vindicated at the way Kazahaya moaned when he took control of the kiss, one hand at the back of Kazahaya’s head keeping him in place while his lips pressed roughly against the blonde’s.

They were both panting when the kiss broke apart.

“Fuck me?” Kazahaya asked, his face flushed. “Please?”

Kazahaya was going to complain about this in the morning no matter what. Rikuo was not the kind of idiot that turned a gift fuck away.

“Fine.”

“Yay!” Kazahaya bounced against him, reminding Rikuo very pointedly of the hardened state he’d been left in.

“Bed,” he ordered, because he didn’t want to think about arranging Kazahaya’s often erratic limbs over the couch.

The blonde was off of him and bouncing into Rikuo’s room in an instant. He stared after the blonde and briefly thought about locking Kazahaya in there. He looked down at his opened pants and his erection, glistening slightly from Kazahaya’s saliva. Like hell he was walking away now.

He stood, holding his pants up with one hand until he got to the bed room. He didn’t bother closing the door. Saiga and Kakei would probably be steering clear of the apartment for a long time, until they were sure whatever was affecting Kazahaya had worn off. If they didn’t… well, whatever they saw was their own damn fault.

He paused inside the doorway to take in the view. Kazahaya had stripped himself already and he was waiting, splayed out on top of the covers of Rikuo’s bed. One of his hands was between his legs, fingers pressing inside, opening himself up for Rikuo. Judging by the open drawer next to Rikuo’s bed, he’d found the lubricant Rikuo kept there. He looked amazing, like one of Rikuo’s fantasies come to life. As soon as Rikuo walked in the door, he shifted his knees open wider and moaned, putting himself on display for Rikuo.

“I used to think about you when I touched myself.”

Rikuo’s mind temporarily shut down as Kazahaya said that, his voice high and breathy.

“What?”

Three of Kazahaya’s fingers pressed inside, sinking in all the way to the knuckle. “I’d lock myself in my room and do this, touch myself exactly like this, imagining it was your cock sliding inside of me.”

Rikuo’s pants hit the floor with a soft thud. He stepped out of them and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it out of the way. “Is that so?”

Kazahaya nodded. He let out a long, low moan, his eyelids fluttering shut for a brief moment as his hand slid out. Rikuo watched the way he touched himself. It was obviously a practiced gesture. There was no hint of pain on his face as he stretched himself. His face was flushed with pleasure, body tensed, waiting. Rikuo tugged off his socks and crawled forward on the bed.

“Would you like it if I said I’d fantasized about fucking you until you screamed my name?”

The moan Kazahaya let out was answer enough. His hand pulled out of his body. A slick palm closed around Rikuo’s erection, oiling him up as he slid his knees forward on the bed until his legs pressed against Kazahaya’s thighs. The blonde’s legs moved, wrapping around Rikuo’s waist. He let go of Rikuo’s erection.

“Please?” The blonde begged again.

Rikuo didn’t need to be asked twice. He shifted forward. Kazahaya lifted his hips slightly so that Rikuo could line up and push forward. There was a brief moment of resistance as his head met Kazahaya’s entrance and then he was sliding in, his erection encased in tight heat. Kazahaya moaned loudly.

“Oh, yes,” Kazahaya groaned, arching his back into Rikuo’s thrust.

They really should have been doing this a long, long time ago.

Rikuo moved, starting slow, but Kazahaya didn’t seem to be in the mood for slow. He pushed up against Rikuo, using hips and hands and lips to encourage him into a faster pace. Kazahaya’s nails dug into his back as he thrust forward sharply, earning him a high-pitched gasp from the blonde. He did it again, harder, to see what other sounds he could make Kazahaya make.

It didn’t take long until his hips were snapping forward, hard enough that he was slightly worried about Kazahaya’s ability to walk in the morning, but the sounds Kazahaya was making told him that the blonde was definitely enjoying it. He wondered if Kakei and Saiga could hear them downstairs. Kazahaya shivered briefly and then his eyes snapped open, focusing on Rikuo. He tried to say something, only got out Rikuo’s name before the rest got swallowed in a loud moan.

Rikuo wrapped a hand around Kazahaya’s erection and jerked once before Kazahaya came, screaming Rikuo’s name at the top of his lungs. His eyes glazed over as Rikuo kept going, pushing into the wanton body below him for a few more minutes until he followed Kazahaya over the edge, spilling his seed into the blonde’s body.

They lay there panting for several minutes. Kazahaya shivered as he slid out and then immediately rolled over, his back to Rikuo. He watched the blonde move and then sighed. Whatever had been effecting Kazahaya had obviously worn off, though it was hard to say how long ago.

“So, was that better than when you fantasize about me fucking you? I always had you pegged as a screamer.”

Kazahaya made a strange noise and curled his legs up towards his chest.

That had probably been more than a little cruel of him. He wasn’t quite certain, but he thought Kazahaya’s shoulders were shaking. It wasn’t that cold in here.

Rikuo grabbed a handful of tissue from the box next to his bed and wiped himself off. Kazahaya jumped when Rikuo touched his thigh.

“Relax. I’m just going to get this stuff off of you. Unless you like waking up all sticky?”

Kazahaya didn’t say anything but he let Rikuo move his legs slightly apart so that he could wipe the come off of his thighs. He started to roll Kazahaya over to get his stomach but the blonde resisted, his breath hitching suddenly.

“Stop that!” Rikuo ordered.

He grabbed Kazahaya by the shoulder and rolled him over onto his back. The sight that greeted him made him wish he really had walked away as soon as Kazahaya had gone into his bedroom. Kazahaya refused to look at him, his eyes fixed on a point on the wall opposite them, but there were tears, a thin trickle of tears running down Kazahaya’s face.

He settled more firmly on the bed next to Kazahaya with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” Kazahaya chocked out. His voice sounded strained.

“You’re not fine.”

“I need to-”

Rikuo’s arm caught Kazahaya around the waist before he could dart away. “Uh uh. Listen to me for a sec, okay? I really didn’t mean to hurt you or make you upset. I’m sorry if I did.” He used the momentary distraction to finish cleaning Kazahaya off and tossed the tissues in the garbage.

Slowly, he let his grip around Kazahaya loosen.

“You can stay if you want. Here. For the night. I meant what I said earlier, about thinking of you.”

Color filled Kazahaya’s face but he didn’t leave. Rikuo took that as a good sign.

He lifted a corner of the covers. “It helps if you sleep under the covers instead of on top of them. Warmer that way.”

Kazahaya still wouldn’t look at him but he got under the covers, rolling once more until his back was to Rikuo. He grinned and walked out into the other room, making sure the front door was locked and the lights out before returning to his room. Kazahaya was still there. He shut the door and slid under the covers. The light was switched off. Kazahaya didn’t move. He pressed up against Kazahaya’s back, tossing an arm over his waist to hold the blonde against him.

“So, what was that book Kakei sent you to fetch?”

There was no answer, so Rikuo assumed he wasn’t going to get one. Closing his eyes, he settled down for sleep. He’d almost managed to fall asleep when Kazahaya finally spoke, his words soft and full of embarrassment.

“The Kama Sutra.”

Rikuo laughed against the blonde’s skin and held him close.

Hiroki stared curiously at the package in his hands, addressed to Nowaki from someone whose name Hiroki didn’t recognize in a southern prefecture. It wasn’t an overly large package, reminding him of the types of boxes hardcover books came in. He dug out his keys as he reached his apartment door.

“Nowaki!” The smell of garlic filled the apartment, assaulting Hiroki’s senses in a pleasant way as he walked in.

“Welcome home, Hiroki-san.” Nowaki smiled at him from the kitchen, skillet in hand and a rather girly-looking apron around his waist.

Hiroki grumbled a vague reply as he locked the door behind him. He dropped the mail on the island that separated the kitchen and living room. “You have a package.”

He moved around the room, shedding coat, bag, wallet, keys, and cellphone on his way to the bedroom. When he emerged, he’d shed most of his schoolteacher attire in favor of more comfortable wear. Nowaki hadn’t set the table yet, so he moved around his lover to gather plates and silverware. An arm around his waist stopped him before he could move towards the table. Hiroki felt obliging today, so he leaned his head back to meet Nowaki’s kiss without protest.

Nowaki was smiling at him when they parted, a wide, content smile that always served to remind Hiroki why he gave in to Nowaki’s advances more often than not.

“It’ll be a few minutes until dinner is ready,” Nowaki said. His hand lingered around Hiroki’s waist until he finally pulled away to put the dishes down.

Hiroki grabbed his book from where it sat, waiting, on the arm of the couch and flopped down along the length of the cushions to read. His curiosity over the contents of Nowaki’s package was forgotten as he lost himself in his book, and by the time Nowaki called him to dinner, it had disappeared from the counter.

*****

Hiroki toweled his hair dry as he walked into their bedroom. His bathrobe was only loosely belted. He’d left it that way, purposefully, hoping that Nowaki would get the unvoiced hint. Apparently he hadn’t needed to because Nowaki was waiting for him, seated on their bed and watching Hiroki with a soft smile.

“I have a present for you.”

Hiroki paused and looked at Nowaki curiously. “Your package?”

Nowaki nodded, his smile widening fractionally.

He let the towel fall into the laundry basket. “What is it?” He couldn’t see anything different in their bedroom.

“Not yet.” Nowaki opened his arms and waited.

A blush spread across Hiroki’s face, but he approached anyways. He wrapped his arms around Nowaki’s shoulders and slid onto Nowaki’s lap, blushing further as their positions forced his bathrobe open at the bottom. Lips found his neck, surprising a moan from Hiroki’s mouth. He let one of his hands tangle in Nowaki’s hair while the younger man untied his bathrobe and pushed the fabric off.

Hiroki felt his face heat up as he was left, naked and exposed, sitting in Nowaki’s lap.

“No fair.” His voice hitched as Nowaki bit down softly at the spot where his shoulder and neck joined.

“Would you like me to make it fair?” Nowaki murmured against his skin.

His answer turned nonsensical as Nowaki bit down again. They moved. Nowaki rolled them to the side until Hiroki was flat on his back with Nowaki on top of him. He made quick work of the buttons on Nowaki’s shirt, smiling as Nowaki kept trying to hold his wrists over his head and Hiroki kept slipping his hands out of Nowaki’s grip. As soon as he’d pulled Nowaki’s shirt out of his pants, he let Nowaki grab his arms.

Hiroki’s smile disappeared as he felt the tie of his bathrobe twist around his arm, tying them together. His face turned scarlet. “Nowaki!”

Nowaki just smiled at him as he leaned up and fastened the other end of the bathrobe tie to the head of the bed.

“Let me go!”

This wasn’t the first time Nowaki had tied him up, and while he did enjoy it, a lot, he wasn’t yet to the point where he’d let Nowaki know that.

“Not yet, Hiroki-san. I’m not sure if you’re going to like your present.”

Hiroki squirmed but the fabric around his wrists held firm. Nowaki stood and finished undressing. His anger was momentarily forgotten as his eyes focused, momentarily, only for a few, very short moments, on Nowaki’s erection. He wanted it. He’d been thinking about sex since he’d stepped into the shower, had been hoping Nowaki would want it too, which was a silly worry since Nowaki always wanted to have sex with him, even when it was absurdly embarrassing and Hiroki just wanted to die from shame.

Then, Hiroki reached down, under the bed and pulled out the box. It was opened, but the flaps were folded so that he couldn’t see what was inside. The box was set next to Hiroki on the bed. The mattress dipped between his legs as Nowaki resettled himself. He grabbed the bottle of lube from where it sat, waiting out in the open on Nowaki’s side of the bed. Slick fingers pressed inside of him and for a brief moment he forgot that he was supposed to be angry at Nowaki.

Nowaki knew how to touch him. He slid two fingers in, all the way up to his knuckles and twisted, rubbing up and down his insides until Hiroki was one large, writhing bundle of nerves. He moaned wantonly, because he had no other options on sounds to make, not when Nowaki’s other hand slid along his sides and teasingly ran through the short hairs around the base of his erection. Nowaki just watched him, like he always did when he had Hiroki tied up like this, because it was one of the few times Hiroki would actually let him watch without doing something to distract him.

After a few excruciatingly pleasant minutes of teasing, Nowaki finally pulled his fingers out, though the bottle of lube stayed near. Finally, he opened the box. Hiroki’s eyes widened as Nowaki pulled out a bright pink sex toy. It was long, thick, and studded. Hiroki’s blush combined both anger and embarrassment. He was half-certain his face was going to explode from the heat of it.

“No.”

Nowaki grinned at him. “But you haven’t even tried it yet.”

He tried to close his legs but Nowaki was sitting between them. A hand stopped him before he could scoot away.

“Don’t you dare.”

Nowaki squirted lube onto his hand and smiled widely as he spread the lube over the toy. Hiroki couldn’t help the small shiver that went through him as he remembered those hands touching him in a similar fashion.

“I made sure to get one that’s the same size you’re used to,” Nowaki said. “I figured that this might help you the next time I have to stay at work over night.”

“I’m not going to-Aaah!” Hiroki’s words were cut off as Nowaki pressed the toy against him and slid it into him.

He moaned. It was, indeed, exactly as thick as Nowaki was, but it felt strange, cold and solid where he was used to warm and yielding. His toes curled reflexively against the sheets as he brought his knees up.

“Like that?”

Hiroki squeezed his eyes shut and rapidly shook his head. He panted.

It moved. He could feel Nowaki’s fingers brushing against his entrance as he slowly slid the toy out of him, drawing it down until the fake head was all that was left in him and then pushing it back in. The bumps rubbed against his prostate, causing Hiroki to gasp. His breathing turned erratic.

“You sure?”

He continued to shake his head. It was too embarrassing. This wasn’t what he’d wanted – Nowaki, hot and thick, pounding inside of him – but if he let himself admit it, only to himself, only ever to himself, he liked it.

“Let me make it better.” Nowaki’s fingers moved and then Hiroki was arching up against his bonds with a startled cry. The toy was pulsing inside of him, pushing against his insides in a way that was certain to drive him mad if Nowaki didn’t make it stop now.

“No!” His body belied his words. He shivered, pressing back against Nowaki’s fingers.

“You do like it. I’m so glad.”

He moaned and kept his eyes closed. There was no way he was ever going to be able to look Nowaki in the eyes again, not when he was reacting so violently to an inanimate object. Nowaki tilted the toy until the tip dragged against him as he pulled it slowly out. He screamed in pleasure as it pressed against his prostate, and he came, hard and hot against both of their chests.

The vibration stopped. Nowaki pulled the toy out. Hiroki nearly cried with relief, but apparently Nowaki wasn’t done yet. Before he even had the chance to feel empty, Nowaki pushed inside.

Hiroki gasped and opened his eyes.

“Welcome back, beautiful.”

Nowaki smiled down at him. One of his hands reached up and pulled the tie loose, freeing Hiroki ‘s hands.

As soon as his hands were free, Hiroki punched Nowaki hard on the shoulder, wincing as Nowaki’s body rocked back from the hit, involuntarily pushing Nowaki harder inside of him. He whimpered.

“Forgive me?” Teasing lips pressed against the edges of Hiroki’s mouth, pressing soft kisses along his cheek and jaw line until he finally turned into the kiss. It was the closest thing to forgiveness that he would ever give Nowaki, but they both understood the kiss for what it was.

Sex made him compliant. Good sex, like he had with Nowaki right now, made him melt and keen. He wrapped his arms around Nowaki’s shoulders and held on, letting Nowaki’s lips cover all the embarrassing sounds that threatened to break from him as Nowaki moved his hips, building up into a pounding rhythm. It was exactly what Hiroki had been waiting for all night. Now that he had it, he felt like jelly, his body melted against the sheets and pliant beneath Nowaki.

He probably would have done anything Nowaki asked him, tried anything he wanted, as long as it meant he could keep Nowaki inside of him, like this, for as long as possible.

It ended far too early. Nowaki came after only a few minutes of pounding thrusts.

They fell against the sheets, still intertwined. Hiroki curled against Nowaki, in no hurry to move. Nowaki’s hand moved behind him. He heard the vibrator being thrown into the box and then it was pushed off the bed. Hiroki’s face flamed at the memories and he buried his face in Nowaki’s shoulder.

“Where in the world did you get that… thing!?”

“eBay.” Nowaki’s voice was smug.

Hiroki shoved himself up from Nowaki’s chest, whimpering as Nowaki shifted inside of him. He ignored the embarrassment and the lingering traces of pleasure. “You bought a sex toy off of eBay? Do you even know where that thing has been before you-you-” His words died out as he spluttered in rage.

Nowaki’s hands traced soothingly along his sides. He slowly lifted Hiroki’s hips, sliding them apart.

“Relax. It was new. The packaging is in the kitchen trash if you need me to prove it.”

Hiroki’s face burned red and he settled back against Nowaki’s chest. “No. I… I never want to see that thing again.”

He could feel Nowaki’s laughter against his cheek. One of his lover’s hands traced random patterns against his lower back, occasionally brushing low along his ass, teasing.

“I doubt that.”

Hiroki blushed but chose not to argue. Nowaki knew him too well.