Title: Sleep by Meleth78

Genre: Romance/Angst

Characters: Genma/Raido, Genma/Hayate

Rating: R

Status: One shot.

Comments: True sleep was for the innocent wasn't it?

Disclaimer: Still not mine. I'm beginning to see a pattern. Maybe I should start a petition.

A/N: My first attempt at a Genma/Raido story sans Kakashi/Iruka. I'm still practicing writing the angst as the angst is difficult for me to bring. Suggestion and comments on how to improve are, as always, deeply welcomed and appreciated.

13th January – Slight edits based on suggestions from the very helpful and talented Nezuko. Thank you so much!

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It was pitch black when his eyes snapped open. Immediately alert, his body tensed, his senses straining to uncover the disturbance that woke him. The man next to him coughed again, then settled, sniffing slightly, unconsciously nuzzling deeper into Genma as he sank back into sleep. The long-haired man shifted slightly, his body relaxing, tension easing. He was careful not to jostle the sleeping body entangled with his. The window right above the bed was partially open. The scent of rain drifted in, dissipating the lingering scent of sweat, semen and over-heated bodies. It was that time of year again. Intense heat followed by intermittent rain. Hot and cold. It was no wonder that half the village was hit by a vicious flu bug.

Genma sighed and relaxed. It has been a long time since he had slept through the entire night. But then true sleep was for the innocent wasn't it? Or the deaf. Or was that the dead? The vague smirk that flashed across the jounin's face was rueful. The man next to him was none of those, and yet, a night of uninterrupted sleep never seemed to be a problem for him. No, Raido approached sleep the way he did everything else, wholeheartedly, with no restraint, no hesitation whatsoever. He fucked the same way as well. The smirk on Genma's face grew wider. Lifting his head up slightly to catch a glimpse of Raido's face, Genma managed to pull his increasingly numb arm free. Carefully, he wound it around the sleeping man's back, careful not to wake his companion. Sleep was a precious commodity. For some reason the tingling sensation that streaked through his arm as blood once again began to flow amused him. But then, Genma was easily amused. Ask anyone. His hand began to stroke gently, reassuring.

Scars. Remnants of the flames that had seared and scorched through the other man's body. Puckered and twisted. Smooth in some places, ragged in others. Raido's entire back was cover with a combination of scars. Fresh new scars piled up upon old burn wounds. The time when Raido had not been able to dodge the stray kunai fast enough, or the incident when he was captured and tortured before Genma and Kakashi had managed to break through the enemy's defenses and free him. Two other shinobi had died on that mission. One had choked on his own blood, tearing at the ripped flesh at his neck while Genma had tried to stop the bleeding. The long haired jounin's hands still bore the gored scars of the desperate scratches. In comparison, a beaten and not yet dead Raido seemed fortunate. In the dark, the streaks of whip markings that criss-crossed along his back shone in their disturbing slivered beauty.

Hayate's back had been smooth. Downy soft and frighteningly pale. Scarless. His chronic illness had forced him to remain trapped in the village. Teaching the young, testing the older, watching over the mature as they came and went after missions. Hayate had never been able to sleep through the night either. His incessant coughing plagued him even in sleep, waking both him and Genma up on more occasions than the long-haired jounin could remember. The other man had always been embarrassed and apologetic whenever Genma had unconsciously groaned at being so awakened. He never quite seemed to believe it when Genma had brushed away his apologies and tried to soothe him back to sleep.

He continued to awaken even after Hayate's death. Hearing the phantom cough in his dreams. He lost count of the number of times he had lurched awake and automatically reached out to comfort the man next to him, only to have his hand hit cold, empty sheets. He stopped sleeping after a while. No one noticed. At least that was what he let himself believe. It was easy enough, no one said anything. No one that is, except for one stubborn, hot-headed man.

Raido had cornered him after a mission, yelling that Genma's exhausted distraction was the reason why they took a week rather than two days to complete a routine mission. He could still feel the hot breath of the angered jounin on his face as Raido's hands had grabbed on to his shoulders, and slammed him against the wall. He remembered not being able to understand the shouted words, and of wondering why he couldn't understand what was being said. He recalled thinking about how hot Raido's body was, and how he smelled like dirt, smoke and pine, and how hard the thighs that were pressed up against his were. He also remembered leaning forward and resting his forehead on Raido's shoulder, and how the other man had ceased yelling abruptly and stilled, frozen by the unexpected touch. But most of all, he remembered the warm hands on his back holding him. Hesitant at first, the stronger later.

Raido had fucked the sense back into him. Or at least that's what Genma liked to tell the other man. Watching Raido's eyes roll in exasperation every time he said it was always amusing. In was true. Partially anyway. The hard sex that followed had exhausted him. The novelty of being the one that was getting fucked rather than doing the fucking, that was a first for him. Feeling the searing pain when Raido had first pushed into him, moaning at the intense pleasure when the scarred man shoved in just deep enough to hit the right spot. Having his hips gripped so tightly that they were bruised the next day. So this was what Hayate felt. Why he always groaned so loud. Why his cough stopped during sex. There was no time for anything else. One could drown in the pleasure. Or burn with it. The lassitude of not having to work for his release overwhelmed him. He slept like a baby for the first time in months.

'Oi'

Gemna started and turned at the sound only to find Raido's sharp gaze on him. All trace of sleep had vanished from the scarred face. He smiled.

'Gomen. Did I wake you?' The tapered fingers which had been trailing over the disfigured back stilled. His other arm tightened his hold on the other man, he was still smiling.

'Hmmm.. .' replied Raido. He coughed once, twice, clearing his throat. His eyes slid shut again as he settled back down into Genma's embrace.

'Your voice sounds horrible,' murmured Genma as his fingers once again began to dance across the scarred back.

'Ummmm…'

'You were coughing.'

Raido's eyes flashed opened. Twisting his head so that he could look at the man next to him he said,

'I wake you?'

'Yeah.' Genma smiled.

'Gomen.'

'What for?'

Raido look at him blinking, once, twice, then he snorted, rolling his eyes. Relaxing back against the pillow he pulled Genma towards and half on top of him.

'Go back to sleep.'

Genma smirked. Yes. Sleep. Sleep was good. He closed his eyes.

THE END