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Chapter 13: Angelic

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Konan's wings swept gently across the silken sheets. Obito felt papers whisper against his skin. The angel turned to look at him, her eyes half-lidded and darkened with want, sheets pressed to her naked body. The only thing she wore was that paper rose pinned into her hair. His gaze trailed downwards to her long glossy legs and curved hip, his eyes resting on her thighs, wanting nothing more than to find himself between them, stroking her flames.

She leaned over him, looking concerned. "Are you still sick?"

He sat up, having to do a double-take. She didn't comment on his bare chest torn with his engineered white flesh. "No, you healed me." He looked at the sheet separating her body and his. He couldn't handle it anymore, he reached out and gently pulled it away from her.

"Obito-kun!"

His eyes flew opened.

Obito woke up to the morning light, his mind alit with flushed skin and gilded eyes, his body heavy with desire.

This happened every once in a while, these bothersome dreams. He was a hot-blooded man after all. But he awoke conflicted. His wet dreams usually involved situations reminiscent of Icha Icha plots with faceless women. Now, disturbingly, he closed his eyes and Konan had become the main star. On the other hand, it wasn't a nightmare, and he supposed he was thankful he was waking up with a hard-on instead of screaming and nausea.

He had been sleeping for the past three days, recovering from the night he collapsed. He vaguely remembered Zetsu coming in and out with food and water. When he did have moments of consciousness, he hoped the kunoichi would visit his room but his door never opened. He wondered if she visited while he was sleeping but he was too prideful to ask Zetsu. He mused that perhaps she took his warning back when she snuck into his room.

Visions of silk and paper clouded his mind once more. He wished it was real. The ache persisted. A pull behind the navel he had not felt in a long time. Konan plagued his mind. He desperately wanted to claim her lips and feel her figure. The sensation of Konan sitting atop of him in the training arena ran hot across his body and mind. His hand snaked below the waistband of his pants, shutting his eyes tightly, chasing away the guilt and shame, letting his body succumb to the heat.

He jolted as he reached his pinnacle, bliss arching through his body. Even after the trusty work of his hand, his edge remained sharp as he wondered what it would feel like if it was her hand…or mouth. The Uchiha laid there, feeling warm and grounded to reality, wondering why he continuously subjected himself to his emotions.

…..

Obito's fingers glided along her desk. It was a vintage piece, with ornate woodwork. A vase of paper roses sat at the corner, with neat stacks of paper and jars of paintbrushes and ink. His lips quirked into a smile. She had always been artistic.

Not being able to help himself, he leaned in to his curiosity and began to open the desk drawers, finding disorganized supplies.

Ah, so the kunoichi wasn't as clean-cut as she presented.

A few were stuffed with art things she made. He was impressed when he opened one to find sheets and objects with complex compositions of pressed flowers. Yes, he recalled she used to collect flowers on missions, though she had not done so in a long while.

Another drawer had paper ninja tools, and a few variations of paper sheets with sticky jars. Her jutsu related projects. His hand glided upwards to the top, smallest drawer. He paused on it, wondering how the private woman would react to find him going through her stuff.

She should have nothing to hide he concluded, or if she did, they wouldn't be so obviously in her desk drawers. He opened the small drawer, peering in to see more stacks of origami paper. Although…he pushed his hand in, and his digits found a paper form. He pulled it out, a red papered origami. Interesting, he had never seen her use any colors other than white.

He flipped it over and froze as the object became recognizable.

It was an origami Sharingan.

Obito looked down in confusion at the painted origami. It was neatly folded into an eye shape, it's layers complex. She had tried to capture the detail of his copy wheel eyes with paint and tiny precise paper cut-outs. Her accuracy was close, but not exact to what the configuration of his looked like.

He didn't know whether to be flattered or suspicious. Why on earth had the kunoichi created an origami of his eyes? Had she been researching a technique to understand his Sharingan?

Whatever her reason, the origami captivated him. He wondered if she planned to gift it to him. She liked giving gifts to people, he had witnessed her make many things over the years.

"Obito?"

He looked up in surprise. He had been so entranced by the paper eye he did not even see her come in.

He watched her amber eyes flick to the art in his hands, and then her face flushed a lovely rosy glow. Her mouth dropped open. She had not intended for him to see it. He watched her attempt to speak but her voice caught in her throat. Her expression changed into one he knew well.

"What are you doing going through my stuff?!" She demanded, her face growing redder by the second.

"I came up here to thank you for healing me, but I got nosy after waiting for so long." He admitted, his eyes glittering with mischief.

"Just because I let you in here doesn't mean you can open all my drawers!"

"What? You snooped in my room remember?" He shot back. "I'm simply returning the favor."

"Technically you aren't supposed to be in here!" She hissed. "Did everything I say about Nagato go over your head?!"

He held up the origami. "Why did you replicate my Sharingan?"

This time she gathered her wits, and simply closed her mouth and glared. A typical Konan response.

"Recreating it won't unlock any secrets you know." He tried.

"I didn't make it to 'figure out secrets'." She said with air quotes.

"Then why did you?" He challenged her, curiosity growing.

"That's not your business."

He looked at her, incredulous. "You creating my eyeball is non of my business?"

"That's right." She said, standing her ground.

Another consideration entered his mind. He smiled salaciously and neared her. "Konan…do my eyes captivate you?"

To his answer, she turned tomato red, but held her glare, remaining silent.

He towered over her, leaning down to face her. His eyes shifted from inky black to red, and her own eyes widened in response. She had never seen his Sharingan shift that close before. "I believe," He said, holding up the origami. "It's important for an artist to check for accuracy, no?"

She blinked, her angry facade breaking into an awed look as she shamelessly studied his eyes.

His heart began to race, chakra pulsing through his veins in response. His keen red eyes imprinted every detail of her at that moment. Most people looked away from an Uchiha's cursed red stare, afraid to succumb to its powers. It was normal to see registered looks of horror as they looked into the Sharingan. This time though, Konan did not look afraid. She looked mesmerized.

"Aren't you scared?" He whispered his face nearing hers.

"No." She said. Her hand went up to his cheek, her fingers delicately brushing the corner of his eye to his temple. Despite her answer, her movements were unsteady. "Your eyes are beautiful."

He blinked, startled by her statement. Never had anyone called his eyes beautiful. Because they weren't. His eyes were powerful and painful. A burden of being an Uchiha. "They're cursed."

"I don't think so." She said softly. "I notice you often look at me with Sharingan. I've been wondering why that is."

He was stunned by the statement. It was true, his eyes did shift often when he studied her. Deep within, he understood why. Madara has long taught him the secrets of his bloodline. But the balance of love and hatred that scarred his clan's history was something Konan would never be privy to.

"Is that why you made this?" He said, holding out the origami form.

"Maybe." She responded cautiously.

"Were you going to gift it to me?"

Her brows rose. "I didn't think you were the gift-y type."

"I used to be." He admitted. Long, long ago.

Her coppery stare widened at that as if she realized something. "That's right, you did ask me to create an origami flower once."

"What?" He wracked his memory, but couldn't think of any occasions where he asked for her origami, nor wanting a flowery piece of art.

"Nevermind." She smiled, but it vanished as she snatched the origami from his fingers. "This isn't for you."

"Itachi then?" He teased.

"No!" She said firmly. She sidestepped him and returned it to her drawer. "I prefer to keep it."

"Okay, stalker."

She whirled around and walked right up to him again, putting her hands on her hips. "Says the man who is always in my room when he shouldn't be."

"Are you keeping it to think of me when you're lonely?" He said heatedly, his hands itching to pull off her cloak, to touch her slim waistline. "You know I can keep you company whenever you please."

She turned her head, breaking eye contact with him, squirming under his red stare. So much for being mesmerized. "Please. You could only wish."

"You know why I look at you with Sharingan?"

That caught her attention. He boldly reached out and began unhooking her Akatsuki cloak. He half expected her to slap his fingers away, but she allowed him with a suspicious stare.

"I can see with heightened detail. I can see your chakra network. Your heartbeat. Even with my sight right now, your eye color glows like gold." He slid her cloak off her shoulders, the expanse of black and red fabric fell heavily to the floor. Very deliberately, he let his eyes slowly trail up her form, appreciating every color, and every curve.

"So you check me out in high definition." She tried to sound humorously dry, but there was a low register to her voice.

"I meant it when I said you enrapture me." He met her eyes. "If I have anyone, it's only the strongest and most beautiful of kunoichi."

His pickup line, admittedly words from Madara's wealth of passed on experiences, seemed to undo her. She backed away from him, and he pressed forward until she ran into the wall.

"What are you saying?" She asked in annoyance, looking even more embarrassed than before.

"This has been going on far too long." His hands finally made contact with her waist, sliding his arms around her figure and drawing her against him. His latent desire threatened to unleash at the sensation of the fullness of her chest pressed against his, the racing of her heart apparent. He leaned in close, she flinched as his lips touched the shell of her ear. "This game of cat and mouse."

She lightly pressed her hands on his shoulders to push him away, looking upwards in surprise, studying his face.

"I may have agreed to this…whatever this is…but you're a fool if you think I'm going to waltz into every trap you set for me." She declared, her eyes flickering to his mouth.

He wasted no time in answering her accusation. He claimed her mouth with unbridled passion. She clutched the collar of his cloak to steady herself against him. There was an unsettling edge to their kissing, no- today Obito was not a patient man. He would not kiss her politely as he had before. In the dim light of Konan's room, he kissed her over and over and over, unable to get used to the sensation of her pliable, cupid's bow lips against his, unable to save himself from drowning in his storm of emotions. He ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth and she obliged, allowing his hot tongue to push onto hers. She let out a small moan, throwing her arms around his neck and tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

He braced one hand against the wall, the other tangling in her long silken hair while placing a knee between her legs to banish any inch of space between them. Her floral perfume was like a cloud of fog over his senses. Why was everything about her so damn nice? He pressed against her as she bit down on his bottom lip. Hard. He let out a pleasurable noise and sought his revenge with another long, deep, punishing kiss.

His tongue lapped over her own, he savored how delicious she was. She tasted like green tea. That's what she tended to have every morning, wasn't it? Even back when they were teenagers, before their rise to power, she would diligently warm her tin cup over the fire.

He lightly dragged his knuckles down her exposed back, making her breath hitch and back arch. Her hands disappeared inside of his cloak, palms running over his hard-muscled physic. Her touch made him deeply ache. He would be truly fucked if she knew how easily she could unwind him and everything he stood for.

He traveled from her mouth to her jaw, both of them gasping for air, grasping each other. She lolled her head as he kissed her neck, his tongue darted out to taste her soft skin, eliciting a noise he only imagined from his dirtiest dreams.

Her fingers pressed into his shoulders as he dragged his mouth to her collarbone, dipping lower and lower.

"What about Nagato?" He heard her blurt out, her breath fanning over the top of his head.

He didn't pause, too enthralled by the dips and curves of the Paper Angel. "Is that what you are thinking about?" He growled, unable to keep the jealous tone from his voice. "I snuck into your room using my teleportation jutsu. Stop talking about him."

Her hand ran through his short dark hair, then to his jaw, tilting his face upwards. He tore away, looking up in visible irritation that she paused his explorations. "You know I'm not used to this sort of secret thing." She said with exasperation.

"You didn't seem that concerned about him when you cared for me the other night." He said with a smirk before lunging for her lips again.

If she had more to say, he swallowed those words whole. When she didn't pull away to speak more, his hands slipped to her lower back, then sweeping downwards to help himself to a handful of her perfectly rounded ass. He was rewarded with her hips grinding against his. If she couldn't tell he was hard before, she should be able to tell now.

His hands, even gloved, made her body alit like starlight, leaving a wake of heat across her angles and curves. She was sure her lips would be rubbed raw from their rough kissing and biting. Their spar in the arena paled in comparison.

As if in tune with the darkening windows, eventually their frantic energy burned down to a simmer of light kissing, slower movements. She could only wonder if he would dare to pick her up and carry her to her bed. Despite the obvious tent in his pants and fully convincing herself he just wanted to sleep with her, she'd like to think he was at least a little bit of a gentleman.

She thankfully was proven correct when they finally pulled away as if just noticing the world around them. In the back of her mind, Konan's nagging reality came to life to remind her Nagato should be due back from his border mission any moment.

"Water?"

Obito broke those thoughts as he handed her a glass of water. She gratefully accepted, finding that she was thirsty and famished. He made her forget all about her plans for lunch hours ago.

She went to sit on the couch. He joined her sitting close enough that one look at his face made her want to pounce on him all over again. He watched her inquisitively, his dark eyes drawing her inwards.

Her face was hot, her heart jolting at the reminder that this was the Tobi she's known for years, unmasked, making out with her. And he looked good, healthier than last week. She couldn't help but smile shyly under his gaze.

He gave her cheeky side grin, a type of smile that seemed so unlike the stern Madara figure he pretended to be. "I like seeing you disheveled. You're always so uptight and proper."

Her smile vanished as she squinted back at him, her hands going to her hair to smooth the knots he made. "I'm not uptight." She mumbled.

He chuckled. "You know, I did come here to thank you for helping me last week. I-ah-I was-"

She raised a hand to interrupt him. "You already know I'll help you when you need it."

"I hope you know I really don't deserve your help." He tried.

"I already told you, it's my duty to you as our leader." She deflected.

"How did you get involved anyway?" Obito raised a brow. "I thought you distrusted Zetsu."

She looked away sheepishly. "I still don't entirely trust him.… But he came to my room in the middle of the night asking for me. Said he found you collapsed, sweating with a fever. So I didn't think twice about helping you. And Nagato was gone that night."

He nodded silently at that. She then added, "If I can ask…what exactly happened to you?"

He looked down at the floor, before meeting her eyes again. "Just know I have some bad nights."

She furrowed her brows. Zetsu had said he had frequent nightmares, but Obito must have been too out of it to remember. Now he was giving her cryptic answers, he didn't want to let her in.

"I made Zetsu promise me not to say anything more." He then offered. "About us."

"I would hope so." She said softly. "Our necks are on the line."

"I've managed to successfully disguise myself as Madara Uchiha for years. Nothing done in secrecy will ever compare to that feat. We can handle it, Konan."

"I'm afraid of us being found out." She admitted.

"We might as well be forsaken and digging our graves," He leaned over and gave her a searing kiss that made her whole body shiver. "But I'm going to enjoy it anyways, because of you."

She went silent at his declaration, the weighty burden of their secret momentarily being drowned out by the pounding of her heart. He stood up, putting his cloak back on. "I'm heading to my office. Nagato should be back soon."

"Right." She said, finding herself disappointed and relieved he had to leave.

He bent down, his thumb dragging across her lower lip-which had become numb. Her body flushed with heat, she couldn't help but inhale sharply, unable to tear her eyes away from his. He looked pleased by what he saw.

He picked up his mask, which he set on her desk, and re-adjusted it on his face. He turned to her, and she figured he was smiling when he said, "Thank you, Konan-san, for healing my eyes."

She smiled back and watched as he swirled out of existence. Once he had teleported out of her room, she collapsed on the couch allowing herself, for a slight moment, to feel deliriously happy.

…..

Obito was pouring over some late night work, although, he wasn't very focused, his mind occupied with the replay of the stolen afternoon between him and Konan.

His privacy was interrupted with a wrap at his door. "Come in."

He looked up to see Pein enter, his gingery hair was slightly damp from the sleet outside. Images from his nightmare with Yahiko surfaced, sending a bolt of unease through him. Konan's fears were validated then, to his great displeasure.

"Welcome back, Pein-sama." Obito bellowed, penning away at his paper. "Hope the mission was a success."

"It was," Pein said. He folded his arms, staring down at the Uchiha, pointedly.

"We can go over details now if you'd like," Obito said with ease, despite the tension in the room. "I'm just finishing up these inventory logs."

"I'm not here about the mission, My Lord." Pein said. His purple eyes narrowed as he scrutinized his shadowy leader.

Obito went rigid. "Then what can I do for you, Pein-sama?"

"I'm here to talk about Konan."

…..

Author's Note: Is it getting hot in here? ;)

Wanted to note-I've been seeing a few Qs here and there about how I will end things. I do have an ending planned, but, rest assured, I will not be writing out any of their death scenes (sorry to any readers who love those dark and angsty endings!)-I find I'm too much of a hopeless romantic to go there lol.

As always, thank you so much for the reviews! I value everyone's feedback. *throws up a million heart emojis*

-LL