More Kyuubi naughtiness -- this time male on male.
He keeps dreaming of foxes -- fucking them and sleeping in the sun with them; hunting with them and just plain hunting them -- and then there's blood and death and pleasure, often... much like when he fucks them. Sometimes he dreams of other things, but they don't stick in his mind as much; when he dreams of foxes he usually spends a good hour afterward vaguely wondering where all the people's furs have gone and why they bother walking on their hind legs.
There are dreams, though, that stay even longer.
Like the ones where he devours people alive, slowly. Or the ones where he runs through villages and fields just for the pleasure of watching them burn.
Or the ones where he accepts challenges, instead of just crushing the challenger outright.
The challenges usually come from young, strong males, only a tail or two less than himself. They are defying him like he defied his own father and countless others, hoping to steal his females -- take them back, whatever, it's all the same to him -- or right a wrong he committed, or just to gain a tail from his lifeblood.
They need to be utterly fearless, and ruthless, and quick-witted. He loves measuring himself against them; making sure that he hasn't dulled his edge is a good side effect, but the real reason is that it's fun. Perhaps, sometimes, it is even better than random massacres.
Naruto doesn't like these dreams either, but he minds them a little less than the rest; it at least looks like they have a fighting chance. Even if they all end the same way -- blood and death.
And pleasure.
This one does NOT end like the ones before it ended. Sure, it has all the tearing at each other with razor claws, and the taste of blood on fur, and his strong jaws snapping bones with an ease that delights him -- fast, so fast, dodging and counterattacking, foxfire scorching the grass and singeing their pelts -- kicking and twisting and rolling on the ground -- down a rocky slope, fangs clenched, don't let go! -- and landing so hard even his bones protest.
There, it's over. The other fox is sprawled under him, seven blood-red tails matted and seared, his own teeth solidly planted in his ruff. He pants, tails waving and weaving in satisfaction and pleasure that Naruto can't help but share. It was an exhilarating fight, but now, it's the end. It will only take a quick snap forward, a twist -- he's done it before. He's killed so many opponents just like that.
Instead, he lazily avoids a last, exhausted snap of fangs, lowers himself, growling in the way that sounds like a purr -- or like a landslide -- wraps his front paws around his opponent's chest, claws digging in, and...
And.
Naruto wakes, fighting the sheets that cling to his sweaty skin as if that could erase the sheer thrill of that final victory.
The cold shower helps him distance himself from the whole experience; the sick feeling he gets from knowing intimately that Kyuubi enjoyed giving pain as much as taking pleasure helps too. The fact that it was a fox underneath him doesn't -- he got used to translating foxes into people.
Neither does, surprisingly, the fact that it was a male.
What's truly disturbing is that his translation of that swift, proud, stubborn, red-furred fox ended up looking a bit too much like a redheaded version of someone he knows.
Makes his sparring sessions with Sasuke kind of awkward for a long while.