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Chapter 6
Kakashi started for the visitor's gate and Ibiki caught his arm none too gently.
"I need to see you in my office. Now."
Kakashi's expression remained blank, but inwardly he crowed proudly. Knowing that a camera was in the room had made it so much more erotic, and he'd made sure his show was easy to see from any angle. Ibiki wasn't social, but Kakashi new he could be had, and now that he'd seen the goods in action the big lug was wanting a personal demonstration. Rumor had it he was a powerhouse in the sack. It would be a sweet contrast to the helplessly fuckable toy he'd just enjoyed.
He stood casually in front of the desk as Ibiki threw the door shut and walked right up to look down into his face, very close and personal. Kakashi looked away with a smirk, waiting for the games to begin.
"I oughta put you up on charges. What the fuck was that little act in there?"
The jounin looked up with an arched eyebrow, but inside the words were a jolt.
"What's the problem?" he drawled. "Just loosening him up. Your suggestion."
"If he'd told you no a second time, I would have busted in there and thrown you in the brig. I told you this mission was just about beyond his ability to cope. Ever occur to you that using that situation to force yourself on him might have some small negative impact on his ability to bring this thing home?"
"I thought you were watching. I didn't force him into anything. He asked me to fuck him, Moreno. Asked. Play it back. He said please, ple-e-e-ease fuck me. I was just being polite."
"He was in cuffs and you worked him. That other crap means nothing. Don't forget who you're talking to. I can make you beg me to set fire to your balls. It just means I'm good at what I do; it doesn't mean you have some secret, inner desire for me to roast your nuts."
Kakashi sneered. "So, now what?"
"You're a real piece of work. Now I make some notes about your disorderly conduct and you get out of my sight before I lock you up anyway. The only thing that saved you is Umino's culpability in this. I let it go to teach him a lesson. He needs to learn to stand up for himself and get out of this victim mindset. I was hoping he'd take a risk and at least try to fight back . If he had, I'd have stepped right in to back him up."
"He did try once, a long time ago," Kakashi said, highly amused. "You'll play hell getting him to try it again."
"I see." Ibiki gripped his shoulder and yanked him to the door, shoving him out into the hallway. "Ten seconds. If you're still here, we dance."
Kakashi glared and brushed off his shirt where the hand had been. For a second, he considered having that dance.
"So I'm not on call for the pursuit?"
"This doesn't change your assignment. I need you here immediately if I see movement. But until I call you in, I suggest you keep that face-rag of yours as far away from here as possible."
Two ANBU stepped up to flank Ibiki. Kakashi turned and walked away, faking a carefree whistle, putting a insolent bounce in his step. He let his thoughts turn back to his lap full of wide open chunin, and that forced bounce turned into an inspired one.
By the time he went out of the compound he was half-hard again and getting a chill reliving the moment when Iruka swallowed him down hard.
So Ibiki had a soft spot for Iruka, even to the point of interfering with his relationships. There it was again: maddening evidence of that special little spark his chunin handed out, without a second thought, to every other breathing life form but him.
Ibiki could go to hell. Kakashi wasn't afraid of him anymore.
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The two men sat cross-legged on their cots as time stretched in meaningless minutes towards sunset .
"Still love this village, sensei?" Jeninki said softly between bites, dutifully eating the watery rice mush and watching Iruka. The chunin was holding his full bowl with both hands and staring into it motionlessly. "Still owe them your life?"
Iruka shivered involuntarily, feeling Jeninki's eyes pulling at him. The mission. What else did he have left but the mission now?
"I have no where else to go," he said flatly. Hopelessly. Jeninki would never talk, and he'd never get out of here. He wasn't sure if he was so anxious to get out right now anyway. Ibiki had thrown him in here for the entertainment value and wasn't wasting any effort backing him up. If anything, he was setting him up for sport; that session with Kakashi left little room for doubt.
"Then come with me. Come and see what it feels like to be truly free and equal. Throw off your chains." The voice was an intimate whisper. Jeninki had slipped across the room quickly to join Iruka on his cot; now he was using his charismatic presence and unavoidably close proximity to its fullest, going all-out to sway the crushed soul. He hadn't needed to lift a finger to widen the cracks in the pathetic, damaged mind. His own people were grinding it into dust almost too fast for him intercept it while it was still functional. One more solid exposure to his eyes and he'd have him.
"You're in prison," Iruka said dully. "You're not going anywhere, either."
"Have faith in me, I have my ways. I just need a little information about the layout of this place and we can go any time. Tomorrow, if you want. And then…none of them will ever put a hand on you unless you want them to. Not ever again. Starting tomorrow, if you so choose." He thought the ear so close to his lips tensed somehow.
Iruka's breath caught. He was suddenly alert, alive, conflicted and panicked. His wide eyes turned to stare into his cellmate's, desperate to see if they held truth or mockery.
A jolt went through his body as time stood still and Iruka's vision swirled into nonsense. His train of thought disassembled, then snapped back together in a clarity of mind he had never known before. The first thing he saw was the confidence and conviction in those deep brown eyes. He saw with certainty that this man was his only hope.
"They're listening," he whispered, the last of his old, loyal devotions falling mortally wounded. This was over before it started.
Jeninki's smile startled his eyes back into motion. "It's all right, Iruka, I know where the mikes are. They can't pick us up talking this low with the guards working the doors."
Sure enough, the grating, clanging sounds that had so panicked him initially were rumbling unnoticed in the background, the blackest white noise of all.
"How?" Iruka's dazed eyes worked hard to make sense of the room again. Confused and disoriented, he struggled to maintain some kind of normalcy to deal with this turn of events.
"First, I need the layout of this compound. We can do it," he ran his tongue over Iruka's ear. "undercover. They want to think we'll get together, so we'll play along. I'm sure that's why they dropped you back in here naked and in shock before, so I'd be able to take advantage of you. Kiss me."
Iruka pulled his head back, shaking it slowly. Even when he closed his eyes, he saw that stare, interfering with his ability to think. Opening them again, he let out a breath and lost more of his grip on the situation. Jeninki was there again, invading him with that look.
"Just for show, Iruka. I promise." Jeninki's sincerity flowed into his head and quieted his conflicts, smoothing out his worry. Things seemed to be falling into place. The events felt less alarming and now it could be plainly seen that the plan was a sure thing.
He leaned in and Iruka met him uncertainly. The kiss was so lacking in aggression that Iruka feared it wouldn't convince anyone. Then it startled him to realize that it felt good. No, it felt wonderful. A kiss without anger or fear or humiliation or surrender. He could kiss back the very same way without battling for position. No one was dominant. Equals, the word full of promise, tasted like truth and matched the sweetness that came from this kiss.
Jeninki pulled away and touched his fingers to Iruka's lips in a caress. "Settle down," he whispered, his voice tinged with caring. "Just for show, remember? We're going to end up under the blanket. And you're going to scratch the layout of this place on my skin right below my navel. Just make sure that north is up. Make it look like you're pleasuring me."
Minutes later, sweating under the covers, Iruka began to question his rationality again. Here he was pushing aside a swollen penis to commit treason by raking a diagram into the flesh of a relative stranger's, no make that an enemy's, stomach. Reality was insanity at this point; his unwavering belief and full comfort with this plan moments ago seemed like the kind of idea that sounded perfectly logical when you were drunk, but was exposed for pure foolishness in the cold, sober light of the next day. The body had to writhe convincingly, increasing the difficulty of his task. He was trying to ignore the inspired acting when hands grabbed his ears and hauled him painfully up.
"I said harder!" Jeninki shouted in his face, then bit his ear with exaggerated force. "Scratch hard, don't worry about hurting me. Draw blood to make sure I can see it," he hissed quietly.
He lapped Iruka's upper lip and looked deeply into his eyes, drawing him back under his influence. He was stronger than anyone would have given him credit for, the chunin still needed reinforcement to keep him on the right track. Once he felt the tanned muscles begin to slack appropriately, he shoved Iruka's head back under the blanket and arched up. "Next time no blanket, no matter how shy you are," he grunted loudly for the listening devices.
It would have been a lot easier with chakra to etch into the sweaty belly. Iruka ran his nails, a little long due to the infrequent access to grooming tools, determinedly into the heaving flesh. By the time he was finishing, precum was defacing his work.
What little part of his mind that still escaped Jeninki's powerful, seductive influence agonized at the path this was taking. This really was treason, he had taken an irreversible step. If they got caught now, he could look forward to a lifetime of storage, of being conveniently on hand for Kakashi, or once word got around, any other shinobi that had a kink for defenseless targets.
A curious impulse struck him then; he had been given free rein to decide how to make it look good for the surveillance. He could think of no better way to make it convincing than to do it for real; and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, the novelty of doing something like this of his own volition was hard to pass up. What would it be like to make the decision himself and follow through without asking? With a tentative tongue, he began slicking up the flesh with his saliva and the bit of emission already there.
Hands grabbed his ears again in warning, but he went on anyway, mouthing and rolling the tightly swollen head against rough palate, lapping upwards with his tongue to keep the saliva thick and slippery and in the right places.
Jeninki let go of his ears and grabbed the edges of the cot, growling deep in his throat with the building pressure, already at the edge after going without for so long. His mind provided the scene hidden under the rough cloth, and he came hard, wondering vaguely about the chunin's independent show of boldness.
Iruka sucked him gently until he was clean, and lifted up to let more light under the blanket. The diagram was clear. The sex was benign, almost pleasant. His job was done, and he let Jeninki pull him up into a kiss.
It felt more real than the last one.
"That was nice," the rogue nin smiled, no need to hide that comment.
Iruka looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. With his long black hair fanned around him on the cot, he looked almost innocent. They fell into a kiss again; it was more exploring and sensual, and lasted much longer. Jeninki tightened his embrace and rolled them over. A tickle of excitement hit Iruka's belly, and the weight atop him pressed down possessively. He hadn't felt that without the accompanying dread for a very long time.
When the taller man moved away instead and left him breathless, the chunin fought the urge to grab him and haul him back down. He belonged with Jeninki now, it seemed like a fact of life. It would be so painful and lonely if he left him behind.
"My turn," smiled the strong, symmetrical face, sliding back under the blanket to curl up and examine the diagram.
To Iruka's disappointment, his partner's action was entirely simulated, the other man guiding his hand and making it plain he should induce the convincing activity himself.
By the time the chunin was dutifully messing the blanket, Jeninki had the diagram committed to memory and had obliterated its meaning with several sets of raked claw-marks. It was tender and sore but he snapped his pants up over it anyway. If only he could use a touch of chakra, he could have made it disappear instead.
He retrieved a wet cloth and helped Iruka put himself back together. There was no mistaking the attachment the smaller man had developed for him. He would come along willingly. Konoha's loss, Jeninki's gain.
The diagram had confirmed his guess. Their escape route would be through the inherent weakness in the containment near the exercise grounds. It further confirmed Iruka's new loyalty: it was irrefutable evidence of his willingness to place his life in Jeninki's hands. Between the two of them, only Iruka would have the knowledge to create that layout accurately. By providing it to his Konoha's enemy in a form he would be unable to destroy or reclaim, he'd effectively lain his neck on the chopping block and handed his cellmate the axe, trusting him not to take a swing with it.
Jeninki had no intention of amusing himself by revealing his cellmate's defection. He valued this fascinating, fiery shinobi's new allegiance very much. If things went as he hoped, by this time tomorrow they would be free to be enjoy their new life together, in a place without cruel bonds or prying eyes.
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