nsfw begins at / "lightning dances across his tongue" TW: overstimulation kink
*7/22/20: changed a bit of the nsfw scene
Toshiro wakes to an empty bed and the sound of birds chirping. It's still dark outside, the faintest blues of morning light breaching the horizon. He lays in the messy sheets for a few minutes, pulling strands of hair from his mouth and feeling inexplicably lonely when he notes a distinct lack of body heat beside him.
Team 7 is very, very late.
He continues about his morning as usual, hair tied up in a sloppy bun as he putters around the kitchen. Cooking comes easier now, a few years of tenuous practice under his belt. The kids put on smiles to match his, but he can tell they're just as worried. When the last of them leave, he slumps against the kitchen counter, a mug of green tea in his hand. It's an old, slightly chipped thing—the mug, that is—Toshiro is pretty sure it's been here the whole time, before he and the kids moved in. There's a cartoon dog that looks remarkably like Pakkun printed across it.
Kakashi never uses it. But he never says a word about Toshiro doing so.
Sighing deeply, he tosses the rest of his tea down the sink and goes to get dressed. The Chunin Exams are in about a month, and the village is busy with preparations. It's been awhile since Konoha last hosted, and they have a new Hokage to show off—as well as various new upgrades. Sections of Konoha would be forbidden to foreign nin, but what they could showcase would be showcased. Politics.
Toshiro leaves the house in his chunin uniform, hair spilling down his shoulders and over the padded neck guard. He has the day off today, and the last thing he wants to do is spend it moping around the house. The emptiness doesn't help his anxieties in the slightest.
He takes his time wandering closer to the center of the village, the patches of forest and natural landscape fading to be replaced by Konoha's distinct architecture. There's a list of people he can visit if he so desires, people who will take his mind off of all the horror scenarios he keeps thinking of.
"HEY! HATAKE!" A whirlwind of brown nearly slams into his side. Inuzuka Kazane, her hair spiked and wild, grins with her Clan's trademark ferocity. At her heels is a massive dog, and in her arms is a baby, little Inuzuka Reiko, whom Toshiro delivered himself almost a year ago.
"Kazane-san—" He attempts to greet, but is interrupted by Reiko being shoved into his arms. He immediately shifts to carry her properly, the little baby waving her pudgy fists and babbling loudly. Her hair is the same dark brown as Kazane's, and the tiny red triangles on her cheeks clearly mark her as an Inuzuka.
"Watch the kid for a moment!" Kazane says, then bounds away just as quickly as she'd approached, her canine partner right beside her.
Toshiro can only gape at the cloud of dust she leaves behind. Reiko catches a loose strand of his hair and tugs it into her mouth.
"Well," he murmurs, looking down at the baby, "Guess that just happened."
There's not much else he can do but keep going. Kazane can easily track him, so he doesn't worry about her not being able to locate him later. Hefting Reiko against his shoulder, he lets her goop up his vest with drool and continues on. A few people look a second too long, civilians especially. The sight of a shinobi decked in their full gear while carrying an infant is, in fact, not a usual sight. He offers awkward smiles in return whenever someone meets his eye, a remnant instinct from his past life.
In a stroke of luck, Inoka is around. Lately, she's been extremely busy with ANBU. He worries about her more often than not, because he knows just what ANBU does to a person.
It cuts the light out of you.
"Where'd you get that baby?" She hovers over him, tall enough that her chin can rest easily on his head. "Does Hatake know about this?"
Reiko gurgles and holds Inoka's offered finger hostage. They stand just outside the Yamanaka Compound, backs the street.
"I'm just watching her," he replies, "Kazane-san had...business?"
"Why is that phrased like a question."
"Well, I didn't exactly have a chance to ask before I had a baby in my arms."
Pupil-less eyes peer down at him, "You're serious? An Inuzuka gave you their baby to watch?"
Toshiro blinks, nearly missing getting his eye poked out by one of Reiko's flailing fists. "Yeah? I helped deliver her. I suppose I was just a convenient option? She already knows me, so..."
Inoka shakes her head, "No, no, my man, my guy, my adorable little angel...an Inuzuka does not just give you their child like that, not when the kid is this young. You think Kakashi has doggy energy? The Inuzuka practically live with wolves. In a forest. "
"Where exactly are you going with this?" He mutters, resignation and dread colliding in his tone. Sage, these clans had too many subtle customs—it's no wonder most of them didn't get along. (Or rather, used to not get along.) Some behavior that might be seen as the norm to some could very well be seen as a slight to others.
"Oh, it's nothing bad." Inoka pauses, considering. "Probably."
"Probably?"
"Dogs really like you, huh. You're like catnip, but for dogs. Dog-magnet instead of a chick magnet." She says, pinching one of Reiko's soft, marked cheeks. "You're like the bone they all fight over, except you're not boney at all. Kinda peachy, actually."
"I get it." He interrupts dryly.
She laughs, "Yeah, well. Inuzuka are big about trust and bonds and shit. You ally yourself with one, you ally yourself with all of them. They have that in common with the Uchiha—and the Nara. You ever piss off a Nara? Fair warning, don't."
He can't imagine being on the receiving end of all that intelligence. A motivated Nara? They'd rule over the Elemental Nations!
"Kiba comes by sometimes." Not lately, now that he thinks about it, despite being on Sai's team. "Or he used to."
Inoka shrugs, "Yeah, well it doesn't have to be someone important for the Inuzuka. Most clans out there will only feel like they owe you if you aid someone of high standing. You could give a band-aid to someone with a smidgen of Inuzuka blood and the entire clan would come to your defense if you needed it. So I doubt it was the kid that got their attention. Tsume doesn't care for that clan relations bull."
Toshiro purses his lips. "So, Kazane-san?"
Inoka shrugs. "This kid's mom?"
He nods.
"Then yeah," she says. "I guess. If Kazane-san considers you a friend, then you have an in, so to speak. Not that you'll do anything nefarious with it."
Toshiro makes a face. "Nefarious? Really?"
Inoka just grins at him sharply, "Well, just expect to get more Inuzuka kids dumped on you in the street."
He doesn't quite groan at the thought, because to do so would be an exaggeration. He loves kids—and he's never really held a baby for this long before. Reiko is surprisingly calm. Or, calm in the sense that she's not howling at the top of her lungs. Instead, she's constantly moving and wiggling, babbling and gurgling. So much energy for one so young—it must be an Inuzuka trait.
They make their way down the street, eyes squinting against the brightness of mid-morning. Even with no set destination in mind, they still end up at their usual tea shop. Reiko falls asleep along the way, lulled by the soft sway of Toshiro's walk. He manages not to jostle her as he slides into the booth. It's amazing to him that she can even sleep against his vest—it's certainly not soft, with its thick, kunai-resistant fabric and mesh filling.
"I have the next few days off, but there's already a mission slated for me when I get back." Inoka sighs, "I don't know if it's because of Godaime-sama, but we've received a huge influx of missions across the board. Word on the street is that the Daimyo is exceptionally pleased to have someone of such high standing in the position of Hokage. Even more so because the Uchiha are half the reason Konoha exists."
Toshiro hums, voice low to keep Reiko from waking. One palm is spread across her back, holding her to him. "That's good, isn't it? It means increased revenue."
"It means the other Hidden Villages aren't receiving as many. Politics are an intricate game, my cute little friend." She winks. "Besides, as good as it is that the Daimyo approves of Godaime-sama, it still pisses me off."
Toshiro furrows his brow, but doesn't reply. Their server comes by to drop off their drinks. Mint for him, Jasmine for her. The familiar scents fill his nostrils, loosening muscles he hadn't realized were tensed. He knows Inoka approves of Itachi. He knows she has no issue with the Uchiha—loves them, even, because the clans get on like a house on fire. And there's that joint hair product business they've started.
It comes to him a moment later.
"You're suggesting that the Daimyo approves of status over capability."
Inoka raises a pale brow, "You think I'm wrong?"
"Did he not approve of Yondaime-sama?"
She takes a swig of her tea, "Dunno. I wasn't really old enough to remember much of him. But I'm pretty sure the fact that the man pretty much won the war for us put him in some good books. And he married an Uzumaki, someone directly related to Uzumaki Mito-sama. So, again, it comes down to status." Inoka sighs, "I think it's obvious that someone who's not related to a Clan in some way will never reach the title of Hokage. At least, not without heavy disapproval. Which we can't afford if we want to keep taking money out of the Daimyo's pocket."
"He's classist, basically." That's not a total surprise, considering the way this world is run. Clans were the golden children, the ones the Daimyo pandered to—the ones any Daimyo really wanted to keep within the borders of their nation. Because when it came down to it, a Clan could very well pack up and leave if they felt their needs and desires weren't being properly met.
Or they could incite a civil war. Which is the last thing a nation needs if it wants to appear strong and prevent other nations from surging across their borders, like sharks waiting for the first sign of blood.
"You said it." Inoka sighs. "And don't even get me started on Kusa. They're like rabid animals, just waiting for a chance to instigate another war. They're bitter and willing to do anything to take Konoha down a peg. Border patrol out there is fuckin' atrocious!"
"Can you blame them?" He asks, "The last war ravaged half their country. They're still reforming and repairing."
"Yeah, well...I suppose." Inoka sighs, "Your man certainly left his mark, too. I think they still have a hard-on for locking him up because of the bridge."
Toshiro grimaces. "What about Nami?" He finds himself saying.
"Nami?" Inoka hums, "That's on the complete opposite side of the nation! It'd be pretty shitty if we were getting opposition from two borders...why do you—oh." She gives him a look that verges on the edge of pity. "You know they'll be fine, right? Kakashi wasn't a Hokage candidate just for his good looks, you know?"
Toshiro sips at his tea, the familiar taste of mint flooding his tongue, sharp and clear. "He could be the most powerful man in the world and I'd still worry."
Reiko snuffles by his ear, her leg twitching in her sleep. Heat seeps through the tea cup and scalds his fingertips.
"I know," Inoka replies softly, golden lashes lowering. She drums her long, slender fingers on the table, mindful of the noise. "I mean, I think I get how you feel. Maybe?"
He stares at her. "You…" Could she be saying what he thinks she is? "Oh my Sage, are you seeing someone?"
Inoka laughs sheepishly, tossing a lock of pale blonde hair over her shoulder. Her cheeks turn pale pink, and a giddiness he's never seen flashes in her azure gaze. "No? I don't know. I mean, there's a guy. But that's it. I don't know if he even...you get me?"
You'd have to be blind not to see how beautiful Inoka is. Tall, leggy and blonde, with a can-do attitude and a wild streak—she draws eyes easily. Someone like her shouldn't have problems with men, except he knows she's never been in a relationship in her entire life. Not one. There's nothing wrong with being single, even if it's forever. But he knows she wants to love and be loved, and yet men run the second they stand next to her and realize they have to look up. In a world where women are preferred small and dainty, it's hard to be 6'—especially when the average height for men in Konoha is about 5'8".
"Do I know him?" He asks, racking his brain for anyone that's come up in conversation before. As it happens, romance is actually the last thing they ever end up talking about.
"Yeah. It's, uh, Yamashiro."
"AO—" he catches himself at the last second, lowering his voice dramatically, "Aoba?"
"Yes!" Inoka hisses in return, checking over her shoulder to see if anyone is looking. "Don't sound so surprised!"
Aoba is older—four years older than Kakashi, even. It's not a significant age gap for shinobi, or even for this world. (Or his last one, now that he thinks about it. Inoka is 22, and Aoba is 30. They can do whatever the hell they want.) While Kakashi is probably more familiar with Aoba, Toshiro has spoken with the dark-haired tokubetsu jounin on more than one occasion. Fun conversations, too. While the man isn't as laid-back as, say, Genma, he's still easy-going and able to remain outwardly calm when needed.
He's also a good four inches shorter than Inoka.
"I'm not. Well, actually I am. Only because you've never mentioned him before!" He hurriedly assures, "I didn't even know you two met!"
Inoka twirls a strand of her long hair around a finger, "We've only spoken a few times...it's actually the whole thing with you and Kakashi that had us in the same circle. So far I've only been able to talk to him when we're out at bars with the whole group." She sighs, "I've been trying to see if I have his interest, but it's so hard! He wears those dumb glasses all the time and it's impossible to know if he's actually paying attention!"
"Wow." Toshiro absently pats Reiko's back, the baby still conked out. "Good luck, I guess? I know he's not seeing anyone, so you've definitely got a chance?"
"Will you stop phrasing your words like questions, you're really putting a damper on my confidence!"
"Ah," he grins sheepishly, "Sorry. I really do think you have a shot, though. I'm just...processing." And scheming. But only a little bit.
Inoka points a finger at his face. "No scheming."
Foiled before I can even begin. He quickly makes a face of complete innocence. "I have no idea what you mean."
"Yeah, sure. I mean it though! I wanna do this on my own."
He purses his lips and tries not to snicker. "Go get your man, then."
Inoka sighs heavily, head drooping. "Trust me, I'm trying." Then she shoots up, a gleam in her pupil-less eyes, "Speaking of men! Have you heard from Fuyumi lately?"
"No," he replies. He's actually been wondering about her. She's been absent from the past few get-togethers, and at this point it's been almost a month since he last saw her. That's not completely unusual in the shinobi world—they were busy, after all. Some missions lasted years! But Fuyumi… "Though I heard from Shisui that she's dodging her family."
"Yeah," Inoka sits back against the booth, stretching her legs below the table. "She was workin' on some legal thing, using it as an excuse to ignore her family's bitching and moaning." They want her to hurry up and get married—and pop out some sharingan-wielding babies."
He carefully readjusts Reiko, brushing a hand over her fuzzy brown hair. Her little nose scrunches at the movement, but she doesn't wake. "Shisui told me as much. You'd think they'd lighten up on her now that he's expecting his own." The last part is muttered quietly.
Inoka's eyes flicker to the side, observing the few customers in the shop. "Yeah, well, they're not exactly satisfied with that, seeing as the kid is half Nara. Not that they aren't happy he's created a formal alliance! But he's a man. She's a woman. Ergo, they think her uterus belongs to them."
Toshiro frowns. With how well everything has been going lately, sometimes he forgets that older generations still hold certain views about their own clan members. The Uchiha especially were a regal sort of clan that held traditional values very close to their chest. The Hyuuga were perhaps even worse. At least the Uchiha never branded their own clansmen. Which reminds him—he should ask Chiasa about her plans regarding Atsuzumi, because he's pretty sure she has her sights on tearing the Hyuuga Clan a new asshole.
"The Uchiha are pretty cautious about breaking up relationships. Is she interested in anyone?"
Inoka shakes her head, "Not that I know of, or at least she wasn't the last time we talked. I don't think that's changed, though."
They're quiet for a moment.
"Should we get her a boyfriend?"
"Totally."
When lunchtime comes around, Reiko is collected by Kazane, who appears as if she's just come back from a fight. She looks inordinately pleased with herself. If it was a fight, she probably won.
"Are you...okay?" He can't help but ask.
She gives him a grin that's all teeth, blood sliding down her chin. "Oh yeah, I'm great! Just scored a date."
"Congratulations?"
"Thanks again, Hatake!" Kazane yells, already halfway down the street with Reiko laughing in her arms.
He kind of misses the soft warmth and weight of the little baby—her little coos and waving fists. It makes him heartsick for something he's never had, but desires more than anything. "It's still Aikawa—" He says halfheartedly, even though she's already long gone. "Eh, whatever."
When he wanders back home, Sai is just about to leave. There's a backpack slung over his shoulder, and his dark clothes are pristine—he's wearing a new outfit. Dark eyes meet his own vibrant pair, and Sai wanders over without prompting. They meet at the steps to the engawa.
"What's up?"
"Mission," the boy says quietly. "C Rank. It's estimated to take a week."
A pang of anxiety hits his chest. Kakashi and Team 7 still haven't returned from their own C Rank, and now another team is going off on one? "Where are you headed?"
"Just escorting a caravan a few towns over. We won't be leaving Hi no Kuni."
Toshiro sighs, relieved. "Good luck."
Sai nods. Then, after a moment, he steps into Toshiro's space and offers an awkward hug. Toshiro hugs back, arms hooked over the pack Sai is carrying. He ruffles the boy's dark hair and pastes a grin on his face.
"I'll see you in a week." He says, "Make sure you remember to eat and drink, and try to get along with your Team."
"I shall endeavor to do my best." Sai replies dryly, the smile on his lips oddly blank. "But according to others, bonds are a two way street. And Kiba is a boulder in the way."
What an analogy. "Well, maybe you should compare him less to an obstacle, and more to something challenging." Toshiro suggests. "You keep talking about him like he's something you have to get over—when really you should consider him someone you have to learn from."
"I don't need to learn anything from Kiba."
Toshiro gently presses a finger to Sai's pale nose. "You need to learn how to work with people like him, because the world is full of all different kinds of people, and as a shinobi you'll need to be able to fit yourself in anywhere. Maybe you aren't friends. Maybe you don't like him. But you need to learn how to trust him, because he's someone who will stand between you and death."
Sai blinks his dark eyes, visibly pondering Toshiro's words. "Aneki said something very similar. I suppose I'm just having difficulty implementing her advice."
"If you're having trouble, try talking to Asuma. He'll listen."
The young Hatake nods very seriously. "Thank you. I'll see you in a week."
Toshiro pats the boy on the shoulder and watches him leave, sighing heavily. The house already feels a little bit emptier. Is this empty nest syndrome? Already? He enters the house and slips off his sandals, then his chunin vest. He drapes it over one arm as he wanders further inside, unsure of what to do now. Without Kakashi here, having a day off feels more like a punishment than a vacation.
He makes it to his room and tosses his vest off to the side. It crumples to the floor with a thump. His bed is unmade, and he falls onto the sheets face first, hair spread about his head. Maybe he'll take a nap, he did get up early this morning... Then he can do some training. Maybe start on a big dinner for the kids when they get home. He definitely has to take a shower.
(He hasn't forgotten the dried baby drool in his hair.)
Toshiro rolls over, ash blond hair tangling around his hands. He gazes at the visible sky revealed through the slightly cracked window and watches a cloud float lazily by. Shinobi are those who endure. They're expected to do whatever they're ordered, no matter how long it takes. Kakashi had once been on a mission that lasted a whole year—yet it feels like eons longer now, when all he wants is to hold the other man in his arms and never let go.
"Hurry home." He whispers.
He gets his wish approximately three days later, when Team 7 wanders through the gates. They're roughed up and dirty, but alive and mostly uninjured. They stop by the hospital for post-mission checkups when Toshiro is on duty, and he almost drops his clipboard when he sees them.
"Sensei!" Sakura exclaims, "Sorry we're late!"
"Well," he replies, voice a little strained, "I suppose I should have expected it, with the way your sensei is."
Naruto lets out a laugh, while Kakashi looks mildly insulted. "Hey, Hey, Toshi-nii, you hafta hear what happened! It was CRAZY!"
Shikamaru looks up at the ceiling with a listless gaze. "Checkup first, Naruto. Then you can go wild."
Toshiro raises a brow at Kakashi, "Do they even need you?"
"They grow up so fast."
The kids are fine, just tired, dirty and a little bit achy. He's sure he'll get the full story eventually. All he knows so far is that their pleasant little C Rank ended up as an A Rank. And there's apparently a bridge named after them. Kakashi follows him back to his office, practically stepping on his heels. His heart thuds heavily in his chest, rattling his ribcage. Pale, freckled fingers tremble as he runs them down protective seals, disabling them in a flash. In the next instant Kakashi all but shoves him into the room, the door quietly swinging shut behind them. He almost trips over his feet, twisting his body to grip at Kakashi's arms. The man's face is already bare, sharp teeth peeking from pale lips.
Toshiro twines his fingers into sweaty silver hair and tugs Kakashi's mouth down. Kakashi's hands come around him, scarred fingers spreading and shifting to feel as much of Toshiro's body as possible. The first kiss is relief. It's the end of sleepless, lonely nights and waiting for the sun to rise with no heat at his side. Kakashi's lips are dry and chapped, he smells like mud and swamp water and sweat. Toshiro presses closer and closer, wishing the layers clinging to their skin would disappear. He wants to feel Kakashi's heartbeat, wants to trace over every inch of the man's body to see if another scar has been added to the wide, varied collection.
Kakashi dips him further, mouth hot and insistent against his own. Their height difference is never as apparent as it is during moments like these, when Kakashi's solid, wiry body is a wall that encompasses all of Toshiro. He feels his desk dig into his back, a potted plant clattering lightly with the movement. Kakashi's tongue traces the seam of his lips, but he pulls away right after.
Their noses bump gently, and Toshiro stares into mismatched eyes, hoping his own speak all the words his hummingbird heartbeat spell out.
"I'm home." Kakashi whispers into the inch of air between them.
"Welcome home." Toshiro replies, equally as soft, sugar-spun happiness caramelizing in his head. "You really need a shower."
Kakashi laughs, white fangs flashing brightly behind his crooked grin, the scar pulling taut across his cheek. As if mesmerized, Toshiro moves in and kisses that roguish mouth until it turns pliant and loose once more. Kakashi grips him tight, nipping at the corner of his lips and breathing out harshly through his nose.
"I'll get on that." The Copy-Nin replies, a little breathless. Toshiro wants to count every fluttering, silvery lash lining the man's eyes.
"You were gone a while." He says. I missed you.
"Yeah," Kakashi murmurs. "It sure felt like it." I missed you, too.
Neither of them say it, but Toshiro is sure they both hear it anyway. After all, Kakashi is all about looking underneath the underneath. Sometimes you need a guidebook or a translator just to understand exactly what he's trying to say.
"But seriously, you really do need a shower."
Lightning dances across his tongue. Kakashi bites his way into his mouth, blood and saliva slipping down his chin. In the dark of Kakashi's room, their bodies shake and undulate under the soft glow of the moon. Skin bare and bitten—sweat beads at his neck, slides down the curve of his spine.
On his hands and knees, Toshiro's neck aches at the angle of the kiss, Kakashi pressed to his back like a second skin. The man's heartbeat rattles their bodies, fluttering a nervous rhythm against Toshiro's shoulder blade. Silver hair tickles his brow and cheek. He moans into the messy kiss, another tooth snagging on his bottom lip and tearing it.
Kakashi's knees bracket his own from behind, his cock slipping between Toshiro's clenched thighs in a steady, punishing rhythm. Every thrust sets the sensitive skin of his inner thighs alight, Kakashi's velvety hot cock curving against Toshiro's own. The slap, slap, slap of skin against skin, damp with exertion and slick with patches of saliva, blood and pre-cum—it echoes in Toshiro's ears and makes him throb. A cry frees itself from his throat, heat blossoming across his cheekbones as the lewd sounds make his arms shake. He wants to drop down, wants to press his face into the sheets and smother every gasping, sobbing moan that burns past his bitten, bleeding lips.
"Oh, fuck!" His arms finally give out in the next moment, sending him face first into the sheets. Fingers scrabble against the loose cotton, spine arching and hips pressing back insistently to meet Kakashi's thrusts. His ass and thighs glisten, dripping wet with lube and sweat, bright pink with friction and the repetitive smack, smack, smack of Kakashi's balls and hips.
Kakashi licks Toshiro's blood from his lips, hair blazing in the pale, white light. He pulls back to grasp at Toshiro's hips, blunt nails digging into the firm, freckled flesh. "Not done yet, Toshiro-kun."
One lightning-scarred hand remains on Toshiro's hip, the other slides up the center of his sweaty back, tangling in ash blond hair. Deft, strong fingers grasp at the back of Toshiro's skull, hair gripped tight. Kakashi presses Toshiro's head firmly into the mattress, a great, looming shadow of pale color and lines in the dark. Toshiro moans, hair sticking wetly to his cheeks, chin and mouth. A pink eye peers blearily behind, catching Kakashi's abs clench and roll with every thrust. He watches the way Kakashi tilts his head back, eyelashes fluttering and lips parted beautifully, slender neck bobbing and stretching. Sweat collects in defined collarbones, slips down muscles carved from marble—Kakashi is an adonis, the kind of man grecian tragedies are based upon. Ethereal and sad, wild in the throes of lust.
(What silly things we do for love.)
Toshiro curls his fingers, curls his toes. Shakes against the sheets and feels the sting of pleasure-pain as every thrust jostles the iron grip on his hair. "Yes, yes, yes!" He gasps, a high sound from the back of his throat. Strong, sloppy thighs clenching even tighter around Kakashi's flushed, weeping cock. The man groans again, always more growl than whimper. His fingers will leave bruises in the pale flesh of Toshiro's hip.
They've been going at for over a half-hour now, building up slow and steady—except Toshiro is on his last legs here, and Kakashi seems insatiable. He gasps against the sheets, stuffed cotton in his head and a hearth for a chest. His blood is scorching, flushing his skin with brilliant reds and pinks. Welcome Home sex at its finest.
Kakashi's hand pulls away, shaking itself loose from twisting, clinging strands of champagne hair. A single finger draws a blistering line over every nob and bump of Toshiro's spine, pressing sharply into the dimples at the base. Toshiro feels his muscles clench and throb, orgasm looming. Kakashi's thrusting is unrelenting, his hands pinch and pull at the swell of Toshiro's ass, digging into the quivering, bouncing muscle. A finger circles the soft, sensitive rim of his asshole, then presses and lightly pulls at the puckered skin.
Toshiro screams wetly into the soaked sheets and cums. Pink eyes roll up as white flashes across his vision, tingling heat crests and bursts across every nerve ending one by one, leaving him shaking in his skin. The slide and grind of Kakashi's cock against his own continues without pause. If anything, Kakashi starts going faster.
"You remember the safeword?"
"Y-Yes—" He whimpers softly, hips trembling. His poor, spent cock is still flushed and throbbing with his release, and the continued stimulation makes his head spin.
"You gonna use it?" The silver-haired nin asks quietly, pausing the movement of his hand. "If it's too much, I can—"
"If you stop right now you will be the first ANBU Captain to ever get their ass kicked by a chunin." He growls. The sharp, honey-sweet pain of overstimulation makes his heart lodge high in his throat. Pain is just another facet of the shinobi lifestyle, wield the sensation the right way and it makes for some explosive sex. Hence their current situation.
(Toshiro is pretty sure he wasn't like this before—before bruises and blood became just another day's work.)
Kakashi laughs into the dark, "Who exactly is the insatiable one here?"
"Yeah, we're both horndogs, just, p-please—"
"Please what?" Kakashi whispers, voice like silk. He bends over Toshiro's back again, so his lips are pressed to Toshiro's ear. "Please make me cum again? Is that what you're trying to say?"
A hand curls around Toshiro's quivering frame and grips his softening cock. He cries out desperately, squirming. Hands tear into the sheets, his grip harsh enough to rip. "Ka—"
Kakashi starts stroking him, "Uh-uh," he tuts, breath hot and curling around Toshiro's bright red ear. "Keep your thighs together, yeah—just like that—"
The overstimulation makes him burn, makes him ache like bruise. Everything tingles and he feels like he's slipped two inches to the right. His body isn't his own, it's just a writhing, lustful tangle of open nerves and erogenous zones. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes, slipping down the ridge of his nose and across freckled cheekbones to join the damp mess already below his face. Kakashi keeps stroking him, setting a harsh pace that drives him beyond the point of pleasure—he thinks he's blacking out. Or dying. He might be dying.
"Kakashi, Kakashi, Kakashi—it feels so good!" He tries to say, but he can't tell if the words leave his numb lips in any coherent manner. His stimulated cock jerks and swells slowly.
"Look at you," Kakashi whispers, sheer adoration in his tone, enough to make Toshiro whine. "Getting hard again, huh? You're so fucking cute."
Toshiro's legs jerk, the muscles in his thigh tensing and jumping. Kakashi's knees squeeze against his own, keeping his pliant thighs pressed tight together. Dizzy, drooling! He's desperation in human form. A litany of high pitched moans and gasping whimpers spill without abandon into the sweltering air. The hand on his cum-slick cock twists and tightens, pumping in a disjointed pattern that makes Toshiro feel like crying in earnest. His body doesn't know whether or not to pull away or chase the next orgasm, while his mind screams for more, more, more. It feels good. It hurts. It feels so good. He hiccups and shakes his hips to meet Kakashi's thrusts.
It's still—so much. "I wanna," he babbles, "I wanna cum!"
Kakashi squeezes at his swollen, throbbing flesh. "You're pulsing in my hand, like a little heartbeat." He picks up speed in jerking Toshiro off, his hips matching the swift pace. It draws a grunt from his chest, and another sob from Toshiro. "You wanna cum really badly, don't you?"
"Yes—but I don't, don't k-know if—!" If anything will come out. He's never had the patience to wring more than one orgasm from himself while jerking off—a dry orgasm would be an entirely new experience.
"I think you can." The smokey, lust-deep voice curls around Toshiro's ear. Teeth nip at his earlobe, then a hot tongue licks at the sweat just below. "You're shaking. Gonna cum soon?"
The fire in his gut grows once more, surging and consuming his sweaty flesh. Every thrust and slide of a firm, scarred hand drives his soul further from his body. His mouth remains agape, lungs desperate for air. Painful heat sears his nervous system, emanating from his red, angry cock.
He wheezes.
His entire body jerks, cum splashing over Kakashi's hand. Kakashi curses darkly against Toshiro's sweat-damp hair, his thrusting hips jerking erratically. With a low groan, the man stutters to a stop. Wet heat hits Toshiro's stomach and across his aching groin. Toshiro slumps, released from Kakashi's grip. His body shifts to the side and he lays there, breathing in great, heaving gasps. His muscles jerk involuntarily with the aftershocks. He could fall asleep right now, sweaty and coated in cum. Every bit of him is relaxed and languid, all his stress wrung right out of him.
He blinks the sting of sweat out of his eyes upon feeling Kakashi's careful hands maneuver him onto his back. There's no way he could move right now, even if he tried. Kakashi pulls his weak, coltish legs open.
"Gonna use the safeword?"
Toshiro's chest heaves with every breath. His entire body is a mess of fluid and exploding synapses. "Not yet."
Kakashi's plush, spit-lick lips engulf the damp, angry head of Toshiro's cock. He throws his head back and screams, back violently arching. His knees rise and squeeze around Kakashi's head, his soft cock slipping further down the man's throat.
"Oh!" He sobs loudly, tears streaming down his cheeks. His abdominals quiver and twitch, hips shaking and wiggling desperately to dislodge his persistent lover. But he wants it. Again and again and again. Mouth agape, Toshiro stares blindly up at the moonlit ceiling, hands tangling in Kakashi's wild silver hair. "I'm gonna die—I can't—Oh, oh, fuck, oh, ah!"
Kakashi pulls off with a pop, thumbs pressing into the lube-wet flesh of Toshiro's inner thighs. "Shinigami-sama can't have you, I haven't finished ruining you yet."