AN: The bizarre train of plots continues its travel, but I'll assure you, things will get settled in the coming chapters. Bad hangovers ahead. If you get sick easily then I'll apologise beforehand. I also apologise over the latest strange chapters, but as you all know by now, yours truly is a sadist. Oh, and if you spot some oddities happening to the words in this chapter then please let me know, for some reason this one has some disagreements with the publishing format and I've been fervently repairing the damage done to it, but may have still missed a spot.
Nevertheless, I sincerely thank you for the encouraging (and entertaining) reviews, they've kept me plotting the story this far and made me all determined to have this story finished with fireworks. Literally. Without further spoilers spilled, enjoy the chapter.
Day 14: The fallout over sticky notes
The earliest rays of dawn crept upon the still slumbering village, the bright, colorless light of early summer illuminating the glimmering drops of water dripping from the drainpipes, windowsills, roof tiles and power lines crisscrossing the scenery. The silence savoring the last passing minutes it had at its disposal before the streets, alleys and households would be filled with the everyday sounds of a busy village. Not a cough would be missed by its keen attention, which was precisely why it found its interest piqued on its way past one innocent-looking light-gray house. Having no sense of discretion, it slipped beneath the high fence wall, snuck across the damp yard and carefully slithered inside the silent house. As it set its immaterial foot on a cool terrace, dismissed the scattered empty bottles, cups and chopsticks, and pushed itself inside the dark, large room with mats on the floor, the air thickened around the odd guest on its way to find the source of the odd noise that had disturbed its calm morning stroll. By two shut sliding doors, it soon found what it had been looking for.
A shaky gasp echoed from the wet tiles that expanded over the modest bathroom walls and floor, soon enough being accompanied with strangled chokes colored by swallowed groans and curses that replaced the oxygen with something heavier in the steamy, humid room. The sound of running water hitting a well-built body fell into the background as the more human sounds erupting from the said figure created an incoherent soundtrack within the otherwise monotonous sound. Pale lips were bitten fervently as yet another gasp managed to force its way out of the heavily panting mouth, the usually hidden rows of teeth gritting harshly together in a vain attempt to keep the silence undisturbed by the dropping sounds of arousal that had made their minds on letting their neighbors know that they had a party they wouldn't mind the others joining. The pale hands trembled from exhaustion, one of the hands twitching against the slippery tiles before the shallowly panting body while the other fought to maintain a steady rhythm of strokes against the slick skin of heated flesh it had managed to get a hold on to.
As the last wave of a mind-shattering completion made his knees buckle, Kakashi let his body slump against the cold wall of the shower stall, and forced his slowing hand to drop limply to his side. Breathing hard, the jounin kept his dazed eyes staring at nothing in particular and concentrated on feeling the cool tiles against his feverish skin, letting the final remnants of the blue spots dance away from his vision while his heart tried to find its usual place again in his chest. Absentmindedly, the dead-tired jounin listened to the lukewarm drops of water tapping against his dropped shoulders, the cool pearls tickling the slowly rising and falling back, then traveling down his flexing thighs and at the back of his knees before joining their kin on the merry flow down the drain, the steady hush of shower permitting the spinning genius to drift mind into a vast, undefined space...which at the moment was something he would have very much preferred instead of being trapped inside a small bathroom that shared a wall with a room he didn't feel like stepping into for the rest of his current mission if things kept going to the same disastrous direction they were at the very moment. The pale hands curled into weak, shaking fists, and the narrow, gray eye was shut when the briefly subsided tweaks of excruciating pain stabbed the silver-haired man's temples as he spent a relatively quiet moment to reflect his present predicament. Soon enough, the first memories took over the empty space inside his head.
The look in the dark brown eyes had burned like a branding iron into his self-control when he had locked eyes with the smugly smirking chuunin who had pressed his chopstick against his currently throbbing forehead, and for all his defense in a situation that had begun to show its merciless nature towards his pitiful mortal being, Kakashi could have sworn to have aimed at the grinning bastard's sake with his own stick. At least until he had seen the passing challenge in the teacher's eyes.
The pale fingers curled around the cold metal faucets and turned the shower off, leaving the silently cursing man alone with his thoughts as the echo of spraying water died away.
..Do you want me to chase you, sensei?
The thought had been out in his mind before he had even registered it, and as if all the tension he had somewhat managed to keep at bay over their drunken banter and the current competition had suddenly decided to skip the protocol and create its own rules, Kakashi had felt his hand muscles twitch and flex into new life, and before he had realized it, his whole body had changed the aim in the middle of his strike. The instant bolt of lightning that had hit his hand suddenly holding the stick to the other man's head hadn't even crossed his mind as a possibility to happen during their game. The jounin gave a weak groan to the bathroom around him as the blurry memories showed him the utterly shocked look flashing in the dark eyes before Iruka had been struck to the ground from the electric impact hitting squarely the man's forehead. Surely enough, the game was immediately dropped and Kakashi had hurried to take a look at the man's probable injuries, already trying to sober himself up enough for summoning Tsunade for yet another emergency call. At first that option had seemed like the only choice Kakashi would be given as the knocked-out chuunin didn't even as much as twitch when he had called the man's name upon the still figure.
Then, for a reason still odd to him, Kakashi had started to pay his half-panicked half-drunken attention to a whole other list of things that he was presented by the sight of one passed-out Umino. The man's dark ponytail had opened completely from the shock of lightning hitting through every fiber in the man's body, the dark strands of hair spilling all over the tan man's face, shoulders and the wooden floor beneath him. The dark eyes were hidden behind the closed eyelids, and the full lips were parted open as if still holding onto the word they had been forming before their chance had been ruthlessly taken away. Before his muddled, numb and intoxicated mind had managed to put any sense to his certified insanity, Kakashi had leaned his head down over the unconscious man, his masked lips hovering just an inch away from their alluring counterparts, and, without giving any thought on what his mouth was suddenly murmuring, the softly whispered question had fallen as a shaky breath from his dry mouth. For his greatest surprise, the jounin had actually hoped that the man beneath him had heard what he had asked.
Then he had made the fatal mistake of touching the tan man.
The absurd memories following the said grave mistake knocked the pale-skinned man's hurting head once again, and the jounin let out a suffering growl at his hormones for opening him a path of irrational mistakes that had now led him into more than just a sticky situation. He had been so caught up with the good eyeful he had taken on the other man that the buzz of electricity gave no warning before it had left his fingertips, not really calming things down when he had seen what his touch had awakened in seconds regarding the dark-haired demon's body. After that, if he had even thought about settling their matters then and there, the chuunin's horny ambush had made sure that whatever he had been wanting to discuss or do with the man was efficiently erased from his to-do list with one swift swipe. Or with one demanding kiss devouring his hidden mouth, to be more precise.
He should have knocked the dark-haired head one more time at the exact second the dark brown eyebrows had twitched on the honey-toned forehead.
But, alas, he didn't, and now it was time to face the surreal consequences. Seeking support from the wall, the lightly hiccuping jounin staggered to fetch the much needed towel now that the burning heat inside his hips wasn't keeping him warm any longer, and on his passing way, the gray eye gave a fleeting glare at the dirty clothes that had been dumped into the laundry basket, the pair of kunai-decorated boxers standing out amidst the black clothes in their cum-coated glory, as if mocking the genius assassin for failing to keep his cool in the hands of one chuunin gone out of control. With more force than needed, the jounin opened the cabinet doors, pulled out a new towel and rubbed himself dry, only to regret his rough movements later on as the floor tilted beneath his legs while he dried off his mop of hair. An aggravated curse that was made out of new levels of frustration ever known to him was muffled into the towel as yet another wave of pain jabbed its senbons through the skull of the peeved jounin. After that, the curse turned into a low, tortured moan.
...Now that he thought about it, why on earth did he even think that he would have been able to tuck the other in bed for a sleep in the first place?
The pale shoulders leaned against the chilly tiles in defeated manner.
He had been so close to forget all of his principals and just take on the offer the younger shinobi was more than willingly giving him, no matter if they had both been way past any coherent thoughts. Yet another towel-smothered growl left the pale man as a spike of arousal made a reappearance in his groin section. He was quite sure there shouldn't be any more stuff left in him until the next week, so why did his body still respond to every little stimuli? A gut-turning twist shook his lean frame, and a poorly stifled mixture of a pained groan and a hiccup dropped itself from the unmasked mouth.
Having passed out on the same futon with the younger man wasn't really putting any odds on his side. The pale body gave a shudder at the memory of waking up not only to an infernal headache but also to the feel of a slumbering, hot body next to him, sensing the warm breath of the sleeping sensei brush against his neck and doing horrible things to the already dirtied insides of his pants when the first pang of desire had taken over his body. Not that the feel of Iruka's quite vivid lower section pressing itself against his lower back was offering any help for that matter, making the wave of pure, raw lust hit his body like a tidal wave at the feel of the hard appendage digging into his wrinkled pants fabric.
Hence the earlier minutes spent on tiring out his stamina in order to avoid doing some unthinkable things to the bronze-skinned body still snoozing in the room next door, and thus the present glaring contest one of the best jounins in the hidden village of Konoha was now having with his rebellious anatomy.
With a long, heavy sigh, the pale-skinned back straightened and the pale hands secured the white towel around the narrow hips, ignoring the needy length tenting the soft cloth as the former Hound started to mentally go through his ANBU codex. He had managed to gain a perfect control over his body over the years and he wasn't going to start losing the basics of his training now. Suddenly, as if doing its best to prove the jounin completely wrong on things concerning the facts of life, his whole body broke into a cold sweat as yet another blurry memory unexpectedly hit him on the head, this time from a different encounter with the same unpredictable chuunin who at that time was even more out of their plane of existence than the previous night. The pale hands holding the towel gave the tiniest jerk as the almost forgotten words of the younger man surfaced his mind, making Kakashi almost double over when the whirlwind of mixed emotions decided to play lottery with heavy stone marbles inside his gut. The gray eye was shut against the agony that made a demolition demonstration inside his head with a sledgehammer, and both the ex-ANBU's hands and legs wailed from the steel-hard tensing of the muscles as the man fought to stay swaying somewhat upright on the wobbly floor.
The gurgling bubble of a severely nauseous hiccup was the only warning he got.
The whole room was spinning around him. That or he had suddenly lost the control of his head, whichever was more plausible at that second. Not that it made any difference concerning the infernal pain that had taken it as its mission to make staying conscious appear the worst decision he had made in his life. With a shaky, long breath, Iruka settled himself sitting more upright (he couldn't be sure though, unless sitting straight nowadays meant that the floor went vertical) on what indeed seemed to be his futon, and spent a minute or two trying to convince his muddled brain that the earth in the Fire Country didn't move in waves the last time he had taught geography to his students. To add more facts to make his head hurt even more than it already did, it was dark around him, meaning that either it was early in the morning or he had yet again slept through one or two days, a hypothesis which did little to ease his slowly rising bad mood. He hated to wake up all disoriented, even more so when the state of impromptu vertigo didn't seem to have the slightest intention to stop messing with his sense of direction anytime soon. If he didn't know better, he would already go through the options of being poisoned - now why the hell did he feel so itchy and sticky underneath his clothes?
Giving his still somewhat clothed body a wondering glare, the chuunin peeled up his dark tank top and peered with unfocused eyes at the unnerving oddity of his body being covered with something that had already dried on his damp skin and itched like hell, carrying a faint scent of something Iruka knew that he really should be capable to recognize. For some reason, the strange sensations grew even worse inside his pants the moment the tan body shifted on the rumpled linen, the wrinkled and sweaty fabric scraping against his body in a way that was making sure that the bingo row for his probable moods was getting closer to 'pissed' instead of 'puzzled'. Before any ideas of what could be stuck to his skin came into his dizzy mind, a new attack of piercing headache made him almost fall down on his back, and a peeved groan fell from the grimacing mouth as two tan hands rose to nurse the dark-haired head. What in the seven hells had happened to him during the past hours?
Then, the dark eyes peeled open to cast a wondering look around him.
...More importantly, where was -
A muffled groan filtered through the wall from the bathroom's direction, and in a blink, Iruka's pulse started to hammer in a few hundred miles per minute while the upper part of his body decided to run a test blush on his suddenly overheating skin. That particular sound was unexpected, unheard of and unbelievably sinful in Iruka's opinion, and he had to swallow a loud curse as a rather strong pulse of electrified lust went straight into his nether regions and gave his cock a long, greedy lick on its way. More than that, the abrupt flood of blurry memories that answered his earlier, silently asked question made the lick turn into a breathtaking suck, and for a moment the now heavily panting academy instructor was almost sure that he had briefly lost the feel of his arms and legs, the suddenly tensed limbs trembling uncontrollably against the onslaught of hazy visual images replaying themselves before Iruka's closed eyes while the ghosts of a dark, low voice murmured dirty things into his ears and made his breath hitch. When a particular whisper made his heart flutter, a shaky moan left the full lips.
... Do you want me to chase you, sensei?
Before his mind had caught up on the fact that he had moved, Iruka had already stepped out of the bedroom.
The wall of lightning that sent him flying straight back into the said room wasn't expected, though.
A rather loudly shouted curse flew past his sharply ringing ears, and feeling more than just sufficiently blown out of his mind as he laid heaving on the hardwood floor, Iruka focused to make his lungs work again while making a futile effort to see what exactly was it that had made his body to discard its physical laws for a second. A flash of silver caught his bleary eyes, as well as a rather impressive amount of pale, naked skin, before hurried stomps of footsteps took off into an other direction and thus left the baffled, choking chuunin alone with his hurting conundrum. With an agonized hiss, Iruka rolled onto his side, made a mental note to take a long trip to the hot-springs if he ever survived through whatever it was that was happening to him, and slowly gathered himself up from the floor. At least now he had a decent idea on the substance that was pretending to be a questionable version of frosting on his body, granted, but providing some more of it inside his trousers in the last four seconds hadn't been the first thing to do on his list for the day. Furthermore, he wasn't sure if he could even stand up now that most of his blood had grown to like his loins more than the places it was supposed to fill on daily basis.
As he got up on his shaking knees, the taste of stomach acid was a second too late to warn him.
Beside the Icha Icha series, the Shinobi Codex [1] was the second most read piece of literature among the shinobi population, as it was something all working in the said profession were given the joyful pleasure of getting drilled into their thick heads at the beginning of their ninja training. It was vastly known, highly detested and ever so often the most used resource for getting enough dry paper to start a fire in challenging conditions, which was the most common reason for many shinobis to carry it inside their weapon pouches in the first place. Nevertheless, despite their shared hatred towards an object consisting of ink and paper, many of them knew the scribbled strategy chapters and rank rules by heart and even found some of the old anecdotes, references and history reviews useful in their missions, whether they wished it or not. Of course, as their village had grown and their hierarchy systems had developed into what it currently was from the ancient times, some had taken it as their task to update the rank literature system and to produce separate books for the genins, chuunins, jounins and ANBU for that matter, claiming that the professional quality of their nins would improve profoundly through the separate booklets as well.
At that point, even the ANBU had concluded that there were people crazier than them in the village.
To Kakashi's displeased note, though, none of the aforementioned books withheld a chapter concerning the dangers of getting himself an elemental hangover, which could have saved his intestines that currently curled around themselves for the third time within five minutes as a sharply cutting jab of electrified agony attempted to rip out his spine for the second time he hurled into the toilet seat.
If someone had ever said that one day the notorious copy-nin would spend his mission half-naked on a cold floor while wearing nothing else than a wet towel and sporting both a hellish hangover and a steel-hard erection that ever so often made him spill streams of what felt like liquified lightning out of his stomach, then Kakashi would have certainly thought that it would happen on the same day when his retirement letter hit his mail box.
As the things stood, though, rather than the chance of spending his remaining years as an inactive jounin pestering the younger generation with his inane stunts, the highly trained assassin was far more interested in the wonderful possibility of dying on the said cold floor before facing what seemed to be his awakened mission partner he had literally ran into on his way to spill out his guts, and who he had apparently all but thrown back to their shared bedroom with his startled reaction for bumping bodies with the younger nin. The crack of lightning that had hit the dark-haired chuunin wasn't intentional, but Kakashi doubted if his body was at that moment even vaguely aware of the word 'polite' while being on its way to make his days miserable for an indefinite amount of time during his all the while shortening life. With a tortured sigh, the pale body released its hold on the cool porcelain and slid backwards to lean against the wall facing the recently flushed toilet seat, and a few thickly swallowed seconds later, the gray eye opened up to cast a pleading look at the flickering light on the room's ceiling (while absently noting that fluorescent lights weren't really the most gentle option for hurting eyes). Whoever was having their guard duty right now among the gods of shinobis, this was the time to look to the other way and give Kakashi an opportunity to rid himself of the throbbing antagonist that was making it impossible to keep his integrity intact. He may need to apologize Future later on for ruining their undoubtedly brilliant plans, but right now the irresponsible six-point-four inches located between his legs had surpassed the urgency level of many S-class nins in his personal Bingo Book.
Much to the Future's relief, before Kakashi could put his gloomy thoughts into action, the toilet door was torn open and an other pair of feet stumbled into the small space occupied by the now shocked jounin. The apologizing look passing the wide dark eyes wasn't missed, and stunned, Kakashi observed just how gracefully Iruka could actually dive on his knees and take a good hold onto his messy dark hair before dumping his flushed head into the delightfully echoing bowl of white porcelain that came with plumbing. For once, the jounin didn't feel like giving the sick man any remarks but instead concentrated solely on hiding his current state of arousal from the other's view and fixing his own breathing while at the same time worked double time for shutting down his sensitive ears when the first sounds of prompt vomiting were heard from the other man's direction. Given that he was now sitting next to a man with whom he had had one-sided sexual encounter twice, who he had electrified more than the average missing nin on a rough day and who, by the sound of it, was opening up his vocal cords in a very similar way as he did a minute ago, Kakashi could almost hear the clack of his mail box.
After what seemed like the fourth attempt on heaving out his lungs for the heck of it, Iruka finally lifted his head up from the depths of the toilet seat and a long, pained groan released itself from the back of tan, hurting throat while the man sat on his heels and let the seemingly sweaty forehead to seek solace on the cool, smooth surface of their common new friend of household furniture that helped them to keep their floors clean. "Oh...kami...please tell me I'm about to die soon."
Against all odds, a meager chuckle found its way to Kakashi's lips at the man's mumbled words, making the jounin wince a second later as his ribcage clearly wasn't in a mood for some fun just yet. "I'm afraid that death is a luxury men like us can't afford, Iruka-sensei." Then, as if to agree with him, the new wave of head-splitting mixture of pain and arousal made the pale jounin break his records in reaching his goals under pressure. Without further warning, the pale hands took a hold of the still shaking honey-toned shoulders and not even listening to the horrified shout coming from the surprised younger shinobi, the ex-ANBU captain effectively removed the tan body away from the immediate danger of getting some undesired projectiles splattered on it and then passed the turn to his malfunctioning digestion system. Somewhere in the back of his head, Kakashi really didn't give a damn if it was a moan or a groan he just heard in the background, but the spark of lightning that had erupted from his hands the second his fingers had curled around the strong bicep of one mocha-colored arm did do some strange things to his wailing stomach. After the loud screech of thousand birds had finally died from the claustrophobically tiny room, the jounin found himself hoping that the words in the aforementioned letter had at least a nice typography on them. With a gurgling growl, Kakashi plopped backwards on his backside and once more leaned his hurting head against the wall, giving no one in particular a tiny nod of reassurance on him still being alive before settling completely still to gather both his breath and his wits, the mismatched eyes firmly closed against the irritatingly flickering fluorescent light. An answering grumble arising from the younger man's direction made the pale lips pull themselves into what tried to resemble a wince of sympathy on the sweaty face. After a beat of listening to a variety of stomach-turning sounds that filled the air between the two suffering men, a more pronounced growl left the dark-haired teacher, and Kakashi opened his gray eye to watch silently as the broad shoulders first tensed and then dropped lax in the semi-hunching position the younger man had yet again taken next to the toilet seat. The following silent sigh was enough to tell Kakashi to pay attention to the younger man. A minute later, the awaited discussion entry was given.
"...What the hell was in that sake?"
Knowing who they both were, the question was taken rhetorically. "...Maa, it might be a shorter list of what wasn't in it", Kakashi drawled and felt his throat constrict both at the act of chasing words out of his mouth and the thought of drinking anything in the next few hours. Then the gray eye narrowed its look at the toilet seat when the jounin placed the chips on the game table. "I'm actually more concerned about the ramen."
The change of air around the jounin's wheezing counterpart screamed loud and clear. "...It was a bit too sweet, wasn't it."
Even though he knew that the other didn't currently see him nod, Kakashi let his head dip down as an affirmative gesture.
A low rumble of severe annoyance resounded from the heavily breathing chuunin's chest. "I'll kill that woman."
A fleeting attempt of a malevolent smirk tugged the jounin's pale lips."...Let's see if you have enough bits left of her to kill after I've gotten out of this house." A passing, breathless chuckle tinted with malicious undertones came from the dark-haired shinobi and made the smirk turn into a full grin on the copy-nin's face. In silence, both the jounin and the chuunin spent a couple of minutes on pulling their acts back together, neither of the men willing to provoke their bodies to gang up further against them. Then slowly, the tan fingers let go of the toilet seat, the sensei twisted to the side and then carefully scooted to slump against the wall a couple of feet away from the pale man.
Panting, the dark-skinned shinobi turned his aching head slowly to the side to cast a look at the equally pained-sounding jounin. "More than that, are you still alive, Kakashi-san?"
The pale hands rose to swipe the thin sheet of sweat from the strong jaw and pale cheekbones before a dry chuckle left the older man's lips, the hands rubbing the messy mop of now damp silver hair before dropping themselves to cover the still hurting mismatched eyes. "As much as you seem to be, sensei. How many painkillers we still have in the bathroom? I think I could use a-" The words were left hanging in the air when Kakashi registered an odd flare in presence from the chuunin's side, and the gray eye was cautiously opened beneath the pale hand to give a look at the surprisingly silent sensei, only to lock gazes with the blankly staring dark eyes. A wondering silvery eyebrow rose on the jounin's face. "What? Is there something on my - "
In Iruka's eyes the whole situation seemed to morph happening in slow motion, as he could clearly see how the fair skin of the jounin turned almost white before it got swallowed by a vividly red blossom of a fierce blush that took over the now stunned-looking elite's pale features. Amidst those eternally long ticks of time, Iruka also gradually realized that he had indeed all but ogled for a good couple of minutes at one of the most guarded secrets many of their village's shinobis had been dying to reveal - and that the said secret was now all but staring back at him with wide, thunderstruck eyes.
It took a while for the shell-shocked jounin to understand that there was an empty space before his eyes on the spot which just recently had a dead-silent chuunin sitting on the tiled toilet floor.
The silence was scared half-dead from its investigations on the scattered sake cups and bottles as a loud bam of bathroom doors echoed inside the light-gray house, instantly followed by a sharp burst of water as one of the showers was turned on.
During his steadily rolling career, Iruka had attended many strategy negotiations, both in the field, the Academy and in the Hokage's office. Most of the counseling situations had required quick thinking and seeing the problem from all possible angles since usually time was running out for someone somewhere at those moments. Moreover, Iruka was pleased to see that many of his students took after him on viewing the given situations to the most absurd detail. Sometimes things got too hectic to do that, naturally, so with sufficient training most chuunins reached the level where the top three options for solving the problem were usually the best ones, no matter how many more of them could be thought out. For the elite, that amount was already abundance.
With all things considered, having an emergency meeting with himself being the only attendant in a bathroom that currently smelled heavily of sexual frustration and the dirty fantasies fueling it hadn't really crossed his mind as something that could indeed occur on a joined mission with their village's top-notch jounin. Taking a quivering breath, the chuunin turned off the already cold shower and rested his hurting forehead against the smooth tiles. Spent and aching, the tan hands rested limply on the shower knobs, and the shaking knees of the tan man gave a cautious heads up for still being able to hold up his weight for the next fifteen minutes, after which their obligations would fly out of the metaphorical window. Slowly, the dark eyes were closed and the expressive eyebrows were drawn into a pensive frown as the silently panting man went over the bizarre facts he had managed to gather so far from his morning.
Firstly, he had been fully dressed when he had woken up, and his ass didn't hurt from any strategically important areas, so it was relatively safe to conclude that the strange flashes of the arrogant jounin fucking him silly on the terrace floor were most probably a twisted wet dream mixing with reality. On the other hand, if that didn't happen, then what the hell did happen?
Since secondly, his body had given him the same treatment as it did after his first similar sexual encounter with whatever that was back then when he had lost two days out of his life, which was a fun fact that still kept coming onto him. In that case, it was starting to look possible that the overruling libido of his was tightly connected to his occasionally dysfunctional gut. With that new epiphany thrown into the equation , the now cursing chuunin could bet half of the village that the aftermath for his reckless body was far from being over when his element was considered.
Thirdly, he had seen Kakashi's face.
Swallowing thickly, the chuunin fought in vain against the steady rise of heat that took over his cheeks and chest at the memory of that particular visual candy he had accidentally laid his eyes on. Admittedly, he had been close to pass the turn to his hands and mouth as well at that point. On that minor trip down the path of fantasies, the tan fingers tightened their hold on the faucets. The silver-haired bastard was attractive to the capital A, with that strong, just rightly angled jaw, those taunting lips -oh, those lips - and the most adorable version of a lopsided smile Iruka had never even thought to associate with the ex-ANBU. Sure, the mismatched eyes could smile, but after seeing that pale psycho to give an actual smile, the crinkle of the man's eyes had started to appear more like a nasty twitch rather than an attempt to display humane emotions. A cold shudder traveled down the scarred back, and Iruka stepped to the towel racks to snatch the nearest towel which hopefully pushed down the rising blush from his shoulders and neck as he dried his body off. Truth to be told, he had already seen the upper half of the other man's masked face, which had been a sight to stare in itself, so when that was taken into consideration, he should have already anticipated that the lower half wouldn't be too bad to look at either.
The only problem was, though, if he would still live after accidentally stepping over their unsaid boundaries. More than anything, the silver-haired man had looked positively horrified to have his face seen. The dark brown, narrowed eyes gave sidelong glances at the closed bathroom doors on his both sides, one leading to the corridor and the two to the training room, and after not sensing anyone close enough to count as a threat, Iruka took another minute to brainstorm more on his present predicament. Against his initial thought, the jounin hadn't come after him yet and beaten the shit out of him, so either the genius had suffered a stroke and he'll find the man dead on the toilet floor, or, more likely, the man was currently forming a plan to get his head on a silver plate. That meant that Iruka shouldn't waste his precious seconds on merely theoretically panicking over his growing interest towards the older shinobi, but use them for forming a solid plan to both avoid the imminent ambush and to serve a good counterattack against the cunning jounin. With a pensive huff, the chuunin wrapped the used towel around his hips and then picked up his haphazardly discarded clothes from the floor in order to put them in their rightful place with the rest of their laundry now that the more acute matters had started to take over his conscious mind after he had...released some steam out of his system. At the sight of multiple white stripes and spots adorning the dark fabric held in his hands, the slender eyebrows rose up to reflect Iruka's rather amazed reaction at the massacre of innocent menswear.
No wonder he had felt itchy, scratchy and sticky all over, his clothes had been all but soaked with semen.
Holding the clothes in his hands, Iruka looked down at his body, and the dark brown eyebrows frowned a couple of notches down on the gradually blushing forehead as the academy instructor gave a scowl at his body which in his honest opinion seemed to have discarded the facts concerning male body's capability to produce sperm in a certain time frame. From what he had scrubbed when he had hit the shower just a few minutes ago, the tan abdomen and thighs had been almost coated with the white substance that now seemed to continue its merry way both inside his boxers and to the outside of his black training pants. Moreover, washing his upper body had shown him that some of the itchy stuff had even managed to fly high enough to hit his nipples and sternum as well. How that had happened when he had still worn his tank top and pants was a question the pre-genin teacher wasn't sure he wanted to hear an answer for. Seeing that both the hem and the stomach area of the said top had also gotten their fair share of male reproductive cells, Iruka spent a brief moment wondering if any of the shinobi codex could provide him with an answer on how to ask the team member if they had ejaculated on an other shinobi's clothing without rising any animosities among the mission operatives.
On the other hand, asking if he had had sex with his mission partner twice, demanding to hear if the other man had any memories concerning their latest events, and then probing the possibility of having fallen for a man he had until now regarded more like a nerve-wrecking malign force of nature in that specific field of social relationships rather than a potential anything didn't appeal to him as an ideal first topic of discussion for the already gut-twisting morning either.
He wished he could laugh at the irony of sharing a house with an attractive man (now officially confirmed) and having tons of mutual things to talk about, but having no guts whatsoever to approach the said man nor voluntarily to bring up the troublesome subjects. One would think that after having seemingly non-coherent, apparently non-penetrative and definitely non-memorable sex for two times, the rest of their social issues could have solved themselves naturally without any fuss by now. Apparently he was badly mistaken. Although, he couldn't help but feel that he had his part too in screwing up their game, as he had all but thrown dozens of mixed messages to the genius who had the most perfect lips Iruka would love to see wrapped around his - aaand back to the problems of communication.
As far as he could tell, both the verbal and non-verbal versions of it were out of the question.
A sigh passed the grimacing lips, and the chuunin walked to the hamper in order to hide the clothes among the jounin's blacks and grays just like he had done a couple of times before, briefly ignoring the small sound in the back of his head wondering how closely the other man actually went through the clothes when doing the laundry, and making a mental note to wash their clothes later that day to make sure that that didn't happen, only to stop on his tracks by the large basket and feel his heart miss a beat.
There, on the top of their more or less colorful laundry, laid a pair of multicolored underwear that resembled the ones he had had the questionable chance to wear on one specific morning, only that this time instead of shurikens the deadly cute pattern seemed like miniature kunais traveling across the off-white fabric. On a closer look, it weren't only kunais that currently decorated the fibers of the said underwear, and the dark eyes shot wide at the sight of a very familiar map of white areas s plattered all over the patterned fabric. On a reflex Iruka didn't know that even existed until then, a tan hand stretched out and quickly lifted the boxers aside to give the staring dark eyes a better view on what the now slightly hyperventilating chuunin wasn't prepared to see. The dark gray and black clothes he had seen on the older man last night were in the same condition as his were, and he could detect even some rips on the seams on the other's pants, as if they had been pulled very hard by someone oh fuck.
Not even paying attention to the ruthless troops of scalding heat infiltrating his upper body, Iruka let go of the clothes he had been holding as if they had burned him and smothered a terrified yelp of realisation by biting the tan knuckles hard enough to make it hurt. Scandalized, the young sensei stared at the bundle of clothes that now looked right back at him accusingly both on top of the basket and from the floor where some of them had dropped from his grasp. The bronze-skinned body tensed the more the further the whirring mind inside the dark-haired head processed the newly found clue s that joined the rampaging facts that had been let loose inside Iruka's head for a good ten minutes ago.
Harassing a mission partner once was bad.
Doing it twice was asking for a murder.
Blindly, Iruka's hands searched for a solid surface to keep himself still standing, and soon enough the tan back leaned heavily against the wooden cabinet that had been standing close by. Once again, the chaotic memories surfaced in the shallow ly breathing man's mind and were browsed through with growing anxiety, as one piece at a time the chuunin tried to create even a vaguely consistent report on what on earth his body had been up to when his brain had been put on an impromptu vacation. He didn't hurt anywhere, he had a couple of bruises but that was expected concerning their assignment, his head was nearly splitting itself in half from the pain still wrecking through his synapses, but on the other hand his body was also feeling quite satisfied and eager for more, which didn't leave any room to argue whether some sort of sex had happened on one level or an other. Then, as if the situation couldn't have plummeted any more out of tracks for him, a tiny sidenote of a courageous yet short-lived thought left the tan man breathless for a blink.
...He couldn't have topped the jounin, could he?
Quickly, the academy instructor turned around on his heels, swayed a bit more to the side than intended due to the sudden vertigo mauling his auris interna, and then ripped open the cabinet doors that had been pressing against the well-sculpted back. The dark eyes scanned through the wooden shelves, fervently looking for one particular item that could share some light to his currently forming intimate catastrophe. Spotting the small glass vessel made the air return back into Iruka's ribcage: the oil was there where he had hidden it after the previous incident, and it seemed to be untouched. Relieved, the chuunin's body released the stressed tension in one sharp exhale, the tan hands still holding onto the wooden cabinet doors, only to become tight as a string again when yet another suicidal thought attacked Iruka's swirling thoughts.
Maybe they had done it without the oil.
After all, they had been profoundly drunk, at least according to the hellish hangover he had been suffering from for the whole morning. Then again, Iruka was pretty sure that despite the jounins being well-known for their insanity, even that mental feature of the silver-haired jounin didn't vouch for the man taking it raw in the ass, moreover he also highly doubted if either of their elements could really have conveniently re-formulated itself into a lubricant. Furthermore, he wasn't even sure if the pale bastard even liked it up in there in the first place, never mind him even thinking the older shinobi in that context to begin with. Hell, not a single hair on Iruka's body felt like he would have recently fucked anybody's lights out, and the fragments of the dreams that he had gleaned so far were definitely not turning the tables for him to be the one taking charge in their actions...well, apart from from pouncing the copy-nin. As an other, a way more familiar tingle traveled down his body, the dark eyes turned to glare at the visible tent that was quickly forming underneath his white towel that had been wrapped around the well-trained waist. Given, the flashing memory of Kakashi's tempting jawline and the taunting visual idea on how the man would have looked like if he had been on the receiving end in the sensei's wet dreams were doing very little to keep Iruka's blood circulating in the places it should have been. It had already been bad enough to hide his condition from the older man in the toilet while barfing his guts out , and realizing briefly that the other had had nothing except for a skimpy towel covering the pale body while they had taken turns in emptying their stomachs hadn't really helped.
Seeing that damned sexy smile on the flushed, handsome face had almost made his iron control set itself on fire .
Giving a deep breath, Iruka closed the cabinet doors and leaned his upper body heavily on his hands that were placed against the worn wood, the dark eyes falling shut as another long sigh left the troubled man while the mocha-colored forehead thunked to rest against the smooth door. Not many would have guessed that he'd end up plotting his ways of surviving on a mission in a chilly bathroom with a horrible hangover and feeling horny to the smallest erected bone in his body. Now that he recalled it, the Hokage had done wisely for not giving them any rank to compare their mission with, as it now started to climb suspiciously more towards an S rather than mere B or A-class.
They might even need to create a whole new rank for this one. H for humiliating would hit close.
Suddenly a strong shiver ran up and down the tan legs, as if the air around the chuunin had momentarily thickened and then dissipated. The fine tremors snuck even under the white towel, and the full lips were bitten briefly to stop the rising moan from dropping from the chuunin's mouth at the sensations that were running across his naked skin. Yet another caress of air pressed against him, and Iruka quickly noticed his other, more sensible and highly trained senses set themselves off in a high pitch over the more sensual ones, as if there was something calling for his immediate attention aside the obvious exhibitionist that was setting up a permanent base camp underneath his towel. With a frown Iruka opened his eyes a fraction to cast a subtle glance to the surroundings, and when the flare of a presence behind the bathroom door leading to the corridor was registered with his sharp sensors, the chuunin didn't even think twice when his whole being took a turn of one-hundred-and-eighty from aroused to alarmed.
Leave it to a highly trained pervert to use the closed doors for their advantage.
In a blink, Iruka's body spurred into action, the chuunin fully intending to face the other shinobi that had suddenly made an appearance behind the door and giving the unnerving elite a piece of his mind regarding the unfairness of his position in their current dilemma (not to mention a knuckle-flavored reminder of their privacy protocol), but before he could even open his mouth to a loud retort the moment he tore open the wooden door and his blazing brown eyes locked themselves on their target, both the words and volume were cut short on Iruka's tongue when his temper tripped over its own feet and fell down with a sharp thud.
The surprised man currently staring back at him wasn't the one he had anticipated , and it would take a dead fool not to recognize the familiar white porcelain mask that was hiding the equally stunned ANBU 's face.
The pin never made it through the silence.
Not even a second after their sudden stumble over each other, a gloved hand was firmly pressed over Iruka's eyes to both block his vision and push him back into the bathroom. Before Iruka could even deduct that the soft clink of porcelain indicated something being done to the ANBU's white mask, let alone raise his voice to demand an explanation on what the man had actually been doing when he had been caught, a greedy pair of lips pressed themselves over his opened mouth, making the teacher briefly choke on his effectively silenced words. Staggering for a proper footing, the tan legs slid while pushing back on the tiled floor as the chuunin was forced to retreat in to the bathroom, and soon enough the broad, scarred back hit what felt like the same wooden cabinet doors, the sounds of falling objects clattering through the thickening air that wrapped itself around the dark-haired man and his captor. When an armored hand peeled off his blindly pushing hands from the armored elite's chest plate and pinned them above his head while a tongue forced itself past his lips, when he could feel the lean legs force his thighs open and the clothed hips ground themselves against his own, making him suck in a sharp breath that was swallowed from him by the groaning ANBU, a thought pushed its way through the shock that was steadily taking over Iruka's mind.
Something was badly off with the elite.
The hand holding onto his struggling arms let go of them and soon enough found its way to Iruka's backside, causing the blue lights dance over the teacher's still covered eyes when the roaming hand gave him a rough squeeze before sliding under his thigh and lifting his leg up, making him feel the coarse fabric of the assassin's uniform trousers rubbing against his sensitive skin. Not one to go down without a fight, and acting more out of pure reflex rather than a well-considered plan, the chuunin quickly gathered the temper he had yet to unleash for the day and against the pang of fear ringing the bells of his self-preservation instincts that knew very well that punching an ANBU may not be the smartest idea in the chuunin codex, the tan hands dropped down, curled into tight fists and swung towards the armored body.
Iruka could only hope that his will of Fire was riled up enough to compensate the lacking chakra in his attack.
The blows made contact, for that Iruka was certain, only to suddenly feel his body erupt into a frenzied fit of tremors as his element suddenly reacted to his fists touching the other man's body, a wave of heat hitting his insides and clashing with something that seemed to devour his whole entity. The mouth that had been cutting off his air supplies suddenly retreated for a moment as a low, rumbling grunt of the other man washed against his unexpectedly sweaty skin, allowing Iruka to draw in sharp intakes of needed oxygen in order to gather his focus for an other blow.
What happened next, though, made sure that the opportunity for that never came.
The second the other man's grunt was registered by his ringing ears, Iruka's ears picked up yet another sound coming from the man, a low, predatory purr, which was soon drowned in an onslaught of sharply stinging sensations surging throughout the honey-toned man's body, making the scarred back arc like a bow in the steel-hard hold while the kiss-swollen lips opened into a shocked scream.
Something was eating him from the inside.
"It's dangerous to arouse a man's lust for things they have bad, sensei."
The ruthless lips were back onto his even more forceful than before, and the hand covering his eyes pushed his head more against the wooden doors that suddenly felt to become alive against his skin, the fibers of the hard wood crawling over his neck and shoulders and digging into his back like starving leeches, draining his body from its energy to struggle against the man holding him while the ANBU seemed to grow stronger, more passionate and literally harder with each second the man managed to stay in physical contact with the now frantically pushing, trashing and panting academy instructor.
Out of the blue, a strong scent of mud and leaves pushed itself into Iruka's nose, making the struggling teacher's mind shout out the warning his subconscious had been aware of but hadn't unfortunately been able to put its finger on until that exact moment. He had missed two vital details concerning the fundamental rules of their elements.
For one, what happened to one could be applied to others.
Second, they were called 'Five Elements' for a reason.
The screech of thousand birds was the last thing he heard before the lights went out.
[1] Just a silly idea of mine. Moving on.
AN: ...Well. I warned you.