What smells like fish? Kakashi wondered silently to himself as he peeled back from the edge of sleep. Last he remembered, he was in Iruka-sensei's bed. Nothing in Iruka's bed smelled like fish. Iruka's bed smelled of sweat (sometimes) and sex (usually), but never fish (thankfully). Except once when Kakashi forgotten Iruka had asked him to take out the trash the day before they both left for a week long mission. It was during the dusty dead of a summer heat wave (the kind of oppressive heat that made the dogs talk back). Iruka had almost killed him. (Kakashi knew that Iruka would never kill him. He couldn't if he wanted to. But, that's how mad he was - Kakashi felt like Iruka's anger almost killed him). He had hidden out on the roof of Asuma's apartment inhaling second hand smoke (which was overpowering) and playing dice with his peer for days, just to avoid the chuunin's formidable wrath and the stink of the place (which was also overpowering). But, that was months ago. Why he had a similar feeling now (like when he took his teasing of Iruka too far) was beyond him.
Especially since something was defiantly wrong in his immediate surroundings. True to his training he did not draw attention to his momentary panic. He played dead to gain a better sense of his orientation in time and space. (Kakashi was very good at playing dead. Once he did it so well he almost made his mother bring him to the hospital. She was angry. He didn't play dead when he didn't need to after that). The ground shifted under him. Sand he registered. (He hated sand. It got everywhere. It made him itch all over). The sun was warm. A roar of water droned at his feet. The ocean? he ventured a guess. Something rolled up and dampened his toes. The ocean he concluded. (He didn't like the ocean either. It made him feel sticky. But, it wasn't as bad as sand).
He sat up and glanced about slowly. He was, in fact, on the beach. The way his shadow stretched told him it was late afternoon (Late afternoon was a nice time of day. It was when Iruka got off work).
This could not be happening. It had to be either a dream or a well constructed illusion. Calmly, as he did in many tense but non-life-threatening situations, he reached for Icha-Icha. (Nothing made him feel calm like Icha-Icha). He knew what was written on the page but the words made no sense. So, he was dreaming. (Hopefully).
This must have been why it took him so long to notice there was someone sitting to his left. It smiled at him. (It was horrible). He couldn't count the number of damp, undulating tendrils hanging from it's lopsided face. They shone with an iridescent slime. It looked sticky. There were bits of sand clinging to the tentacles it had in place of limbs. (He wondered what sort of loving God would allow this to be imagined). Worst of all it's eyes reminded him of Iruka. (This made him hope he would remember to make an appointment at the psychiatric center when he woke up or at least burn his Hokusai coffee table book and his hentai in the dead of night where nobody would see him).
"Hello," he ventured.
"I love you," it responded and put it's repulsive tentacle hand over his.
Kakashi was filled with dread. (Like the first time a girl was about to kiss him and he knew he would not like it). He rose to flee. It reached out and casually tripped him. He fell flat on his face. He seemed to have forgotten how to move like a ninja. The creature unceremoniously pulled his pants down around his knees. He squeaked. (It was undignified).
"I am going to be raped," Kakashi concluded resignedly through a mouthful of sand. He hoped it would be over quickly.
"Don't fight it," the creature suggested helpfully.
This reminded him of Iruka too much for him to be comfortable with. It was wrong. (More wrong than the time he walked in on sensei and his wife when he was nine and stayed one awkward pause longer than he should have). Nonetheless, Kakashi simply sighed as he allowed his arms and legs to be splayed and his hips to be tilted in the air. He pretended he didn't enjoy how exposed this made him feel). Something wet and warm brushed up the entire length of his spread cheeks. He shuttered. It felt too good to be real. (Probably because it wasn't). He wished it didn't.
"Don't fight it," the tentacle monster repeated. "You're fighting it."
Maybe he wouldn't. (What was there to lose)? It put a tentacle to his lips. The way it pushed, slithering and alive, across his tongue when he opened them made him shiver. (Ruefully Kakashi remembered that nothing made him calm like Icha-Icha or having something - anything - even vaguely phallic in his mouth). He hummed and it pushed forward down his throat. There was something undeniably erotic about the way it stretched his mouth open so far his jaw ached. The way it made him swallow again and again was hypnotic. He got lost in matching the cadence of his breathing with the insistent rhythm of it's thrusts. It tasted better than it smelled. He felt intoxicated. He wanted more.
The tentacles played across each of his weak spots at once - his nipples, the angle of his jaw below his ears, the crests of his hips, the inside of his thighs. The way the tips flicked like tongues and the pads sucked like mouths made him ache with dizzying need. When he was penetrated it was welcome. The way it squirmed inside him made him moan. If he weren't pinned down he would have thrown himself back on it. The creature corkscrewed a tentacle over the entire length of his cock. He was frustrated that he could not drive his hips into it. (It was maddening).
He was vaguely aware that his muscles were quivering uncontrollably. All of it at once was too much. Everything tensed and trembled. Pleasure played up his spine. Heat pooled in his stomach. Warmth pulsed through his body and threatened to overflow. It was going to be a big one. (Sadly). He was filled with shame. This made it seem as though it was going to be bigger. He was glad nobody was around to bear witness.
(Unless he was talking in his sleep. Again).
Then he was on the floor of Iruka's apartment. (It didn't smell like fish). His partner sat on his chest with one hand over his left eye. He saw signs of a struggle. Iruka's hair was half out of it's pony-tail. Kakashi liked this more than he would ever let on. (He never had learned how to share). There were papers everywhere by his feet. A glass spilled water across the floor and slowly dampened them. (He hoped none of them were his reports. He didn't want to re-write them. Then he realized they were magazines). He counted three shuriken in the wall to his left. (They were Iruka's. His shuriken had five points. Iruka's had six).
"Is that your idea of a joke?" he inquired, mildly.
(He was genuinely curious).
"No." Iruka was panting. The color in his face was not entirely caused by the tussle they had just had. The way his brows knit and he forced himself to smile made him look embarrassed. (Kakashi knew this much). "Just proving a point."
"I was about to come," Kakashi frowned.
"It was a detailed illusion." Iruka sounded defensive. Kakashi was not sure why. "I ran out of chakra."
"Why would you do that?"
He couldn't remember. There must have been a reason. There was always a reason with Iruka. (He was a very linear thinker). He tried to sit up. Iruka pushed him down.
"You deserved it."
"I see."
He laid back and pretended not to have caught a glimpse of a drawing, very similar to the illusion he had just seen, scrawled across one of the ruined magazines at his feet. He remembered suddenly, this was the first time he had stumbled across Iruka's porn stash.
(It would not be the last).