I Do Not Own Naruto.

Warning: Non-con, slash/yaoi, and violence.

.-.

"I Hate you." Iruka hissed as he was slammed into a wall.

The person who had first slammed him into the wall, slammed him into it again, more violently. His skull bounced against the drywall and he swore he saw stars overtake his vision. He cursed vividly and drew a chuckle from the man pressed tightly against him.

"Such a bad mouth, sensei." The man purred. "I'm sure I could put it to such good use."

Iruka didn't let up on his curses, except as teeth sunk into his shoulder, eliciting a cry. Iruka gave a soft involuntary whimper as the teeth dug deeper drawing blood. As the blood pooled and poured down his skin the teeth pulled back and licked at it. A rough gloved hand slid under his shirt and explored the smooth expansion of his stomach while the other held his wrist tight enough Iruka felt the bones creak. He slapped at the hand holding his wrist already knowing bruises would form soon. In retaliation the hand holding his wrist jerked and twisted. Iruka gave a keen of pain and moved to relieve the strain. Not that that worked when he was pinned to a wall.

The man moaned at his movements and nipped harder at his neck. Iruka panted and growled, trying to wrench himself away. He finally succeeded in knocking the man back a step. He only got a few inches from the wall when the man regained his balance and back handed him. Iruka hit the floor with a clatter and a cry, hands scrabbling to steady himself. The man grabbed him by his hair, ripping out the ponytail and knotting fingers deep.

Iruka cursed him, the swear word smothered as lips smashed against his own, teeth clinking and mouth pried open. Iruka couldn't even breath with how demanding the kiss was, plundering his mouth. When the man finally pulled back Iruka was trembling and swallowing air by large gulps. The man laughed and when Iruka tried to hit him he was thrown back to the ground. His fingernails dug into the wood and he tried to lift himself to his knees but a foot came crashing down on his back.

The man laughed again and the familiar sound of ringing steel hung in the air. Iruka struggled even harder as he saw the glint of a kunai out of the corner of his eye. The man kneeled, one knee on his back and sliced up the side of his shirt. His vest had long since vanished. Iruka accidentally flinched into the knife and gave a whimper of pain. The man above him ripped the tatters of his now blood stained shirt off and tossed them aside.

"You have very pretty blood." The man hummed. "It's that brilliant red that everyone assumes blood is supposed to be."

"You sick fuck!" Iruka snarled, lashing out with a foot.

The man lazily ducked and kicked him in the side hard enough to flip him over and send him crashing into the wall. Iruka dazedly blinked away black spots. A hand wrapped around his throat and slammed him into the floor again. The man atop of him straddled his waist and ripped his belt off. Said man wasn't missing any of his own clothes yet and had mostly avoided staining them with Iruka's blood.

"Running your mouth again." The man sighed. "What would your students think of you if they could hear you now?"

"What would anyone think of you if they could see you now?" Iruka growled, spitting in the man's face.

He got another backhand for his efforts.

"That's not nice." The man said wiping away the dribble lazily. "And it isn't as if they would ever believe it. Besides, they'll never see because I'm careful enough not to let them."

"I could tell anyone." Iruka hissed.

"Oh? And once again, no one would believe it. They would send you for therapy. Even if you somehow gave them enough proof, they would never touch me. I'm worth much more then you, sensei."

Iruka flinched at the honest words knowing how true they were. No one would ever believe him if he accused this man of doing this. And he was right about worth. In a time when Orochimaru and Akatsuki were out there, attacking them, with low numbers already, all the ninja had become even more precious. But higher level ninja were suddenly elevated greatly. They could get away with murder if they wanted, because they were needed. They were always let off, because Konoha couldn't afford to loose a Jonin or such. And this man was a Jonin to his Chunin. He was worth so much more, and because of that, he could kill Iruka and get off clean. And add to the fact he had no family to help him out, or stick up for him….well, Iruka was fucked, metaphorically and literally.

Iruka blinked away burning tears of frustration as his pants were discarded. He looked away from the man knowing how useless it would be to fight him. He'd already proved how much stronger he was. And it wasn't like there was anywhere to run to if he did get away. No safe spots for Iruka to hide away in. No friends who could truly help.

"Now, now. Don't cry sensei." The man purred leaning over to lick at the salty tears. "I've been told I'm a very good lover."

"By the willing ones I presume." Iruka snapped.

"You injury me." He laughed. "Everyone I've been with says that. You're the first one to say otherwise."

"Liar." Iruka spat.

"But it's true Sensei. You're the first one to grab my interest that I couldn't win over with dates or compliments or my looks. You're the only one who ever refused me. I couldn't resist, even if I couldn't get your permission."

"You already had what you wanted." Iruka said, blinking back tears again. "You got what you wanted last night, and the night before, and the night before."

"True, but I really like you." The man murmured against his skin. "I can't stay away."

Iruka wished he'd never caught this man's eye. At first he had found it fun, bold, daring. He'd flirted a bit, played along. But in the end he'd come to the conclusion that while he desired the man in some form, he wasn't what he wanted. So he'd refused the advances. But this man was never one to be told no. So he'd taken what he'd wanted, by force. Just as he was doing now, and would continue to do so until he was bored.

Iruka wondered if he gave in, if he went willingly, that the man would get bored much quicker. But Iruka couldn't even fake willingness now. He could barely hold himself together with how much he hurt and how much he hated. He'd always wondered how Sasuke could be so revenge driven, so hate filled, but he understood now. All he wanted was a knife in hand so he could drive it through this man's flesh and make him bleed and hurt the same way Iruka did.

"Thinking naughty thoughts sensei?" The man giggled. "I can feel your Killing intent already and we haven't even started."

Iruka gave a soft whimper like snarl of pain, anger, and hopelessness.

"I hate you." He whispered, blinking back tears and anger and hate.

He'd never hated anyone, truly, before this. But after being hit, pushed, and humiliated just because the man couldn't take no for an answer, well he was more then ready to hate.

"I love you." The man responded.

Iruka wanted to throw up. Love. This man didn't know what love was. If he thought this was love, then Iruka almost pitied him. But 'almost' was the key word. He couldn't even feel pity for this beast anymore. The word love only made him violently ill, and he wondered when other such words, like pity would also.

"I love you Umino Iruka." The man whispered again, silver hair falling over his shoulders, the tips glinting red where they had brushed through Iruka's blood.

"I hate you Hatake Kakashi." Iruka whispered right back.

.-.

The End.

Just a drabble. I always read those super-sweet-fluffy-cuddly stories about the two and just had to do this one.

.-.