r. port of call. 2/2. kakashi/sasuke.
Title: Port of Call.
Fandom: Naruto.
Characters: Kakashi/Sasuke.
Chapter: 2/2.
Rating: R for very adult themes.
Wordcount: Roughly, 6,000.
Warnings: D/s, light bondage, sensory deprivation, dub-con, penetration, mind games, dark themes.
Prompt: Something AU. Humor would be good. Other than that, surprise me.
Summary: He was losing control - losing it to Naruto, to any other "friends" who could possibly get in his way, and most ashamedly, to a man whose face he'd never seen.
A/Ns: And the second part. It was meant to be one long fic and probably reads better as one long fic, but LJ wouldn't let me post it all at once. Hence me posting two separate entries.
"What is it, moron? I have thirty text messages consisting of just my name all because of you," Sasuke hissed, cell phone held tightly to his ear where he lingered outside of the university library.
"Ahahaha," Naruto replied. "Er, sorry. Got a little carried away there. Anyway, you need to stop holing yourself up in the dungeons, Sasuke. It's not healthy, spending twelve hours a day in the library. I've got law school exams coming up too, you know, but you don't see me overdoing it. I know we're both spending the summer on campus, but it's still summer and you've been in there just about every day for three weeks straight!"
"Tch, leave me alone, idiot," and with that Sasuke clicked 'END' and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
"Back again, are we?" the creepy scarf-and-eye-patch-wearing man behind the special collections desk all but saluted him cheerfully when he slapped his student card down.
"Obviously," Sasuke snapped, his nerves fried. "What, no porn today?" he tutted coldly upon realizing that the crazy person's trademark orange book wasn't in sight.
"Ah, how observant!" he cheerfully continued, the lone visible eye crinkling upwards with utter glee before he turned and disappeared behind the stacks. Sasuke happily let his mind wander elsewhere, though for some odd reason it decided to retreat back to the warehouse. He must've been going mad if he was starting to hear his sponsor's voice coming out of this crazy bastard's mouth, of all people. He needed to get his damn book, and then he needed to get to his study alcove as quickly as possible.
Lately, that was the only place in which his mind didn't wander back to those seeking hands, that blindfold. It was the only place in which his concentration wasn't completely spoiled by a husky tone and those maddening touches bordering on something dark and deviant, something that he shouldn't have been so curious to feel.
"Here you are," the librarian returned with a highly coveted text that would help him immensely in preparing for his business school exams. "And here it is! The latest edition!"
Sasuke glowered at a blue book clutched affectionately to the librarian's chest. It had the same 'prohibited' sign that he'd seen stamped on the cover of the orange book quite a few times. Not too many times, though. This particular librarian wasn't a regular. Sasuke had guessed he was a temp of sorts. Ridiculous.
"Yeah, you enjoy that," Sasuke snorted brusquely before turning on heel.
"The same to you, Uchiha Sasuke," the librarian uttered, and Sasuke paused mid-step, curbing the urge to turn and glance back at him at the use of his name, a peculiar shiver coursing through his body.
No. He was being silly. He continued walking.
*
"You look stressed tonight," the voice observed as Sasuke stood in the doorway of their meeting room three days later, having already tied the blindfold into place.
"Hn," he humphed through his nose, mouth tightly pinched with exhaustion. "Do I?"
A long moment of silence passed between them, whereupon Sasuke remained perfectly stolid and allowed himself to be assessed. Tonight, he didn't care.
That morning he had received word that his parents' latest appeal for release had been denied. And on top of that, he had his business school exams to take tomorrow.
The weight of this knowledge had dogged his steps all day long, and when he had been sitting still at the library, it had made a leaden home in his belly. He felt sick with too much information. Tonight, he wouldn't care what was done with him.
He wasn't surprised when a hand closed around his wrist and he heard the door slide shut behind him.
"Change of plans," the voice informed him as he was led further into the room, stopped, and turned to face the soft press of some sort of edge nudging the front of his thighs. "Lift your arms."
Wordlessly, Sasuke did so. He didn't flinch when his shirt was lifted up and over his head.
"I am going to undress the rest of you now."
This time he did flinch, tensing all over, but the response was fleeting. A moment later his shoulders slumped.
This wasn't how he'd hoped it would happen. He'd hoped to participate, to make it difficult, to rattle the man's composure. But he was used to disappointment where only the most intimately important of matters were concerned. After his parents were convicted and sent to a cushy prison for cooking the books and embezzling money, he'd gotten accustomed to the possibility of a grand upset whenever a person had managed to sink their fingers in too deeply.
He was losing control - losing it to Naruto, to any other "friends" who could possibly get in his way, and most ashamedly, to a man whose face he'd never seen.
Perhaps when he reached out blindly for his sponsor's hand and brought long, thin fingers to the front of his belt, he did so in a last ditch effort to gain some of it back.
"Do it," Sasuke said.
And even though he knew that those hands making quick work of his zipper weren't doing so at his command, being able to say those words out loud made him feel, in a peculiarly dysfunctional way, just a little bit better.
*
Sasuke couldn't remember ever having slept so well. He'd needed it badly too - the exams had been exceptionally challenging, but as he left the testing facility, he felt confident that he'd aced them.
A stubborn, self-righteous little warmth had wormed its way into his chest and taken up residence there ever since he'd woken up that morning. If the normal, unsullied way his ass felt was any indication, nothing had happened - nothing that couldn't be construed as innocent, anyway.
Once naked, he'd been instructed to lie face down along what had felt like a luxurious, towel-covered surface, his anxiety around the exposure of his body fading as soon as skilled hands slid through his hair and began a liquefying massage from head to toe that seemed to last for hours. Somewhere between the oiled slope of his back, the innocent skip over the rise of his ass and the deep-tissue massage along the backs of his thighs, he'd fallen asleep.
He'd woken up several times between the warehouse and the trip back to his apartment - once as he was being dressed, a second time as the loud ping of a functioning elevator invaded his groggy hearing. He'd wanted so badly to climb down and give his sponsor attitude for having drugged him -- there must have been some sort of sedative in that damned massage oil -- but found himself instead wrapping his arms more securely around his neck and breathing in the twin scents of clean sweat and cologne.
He'd woken up for a last time when he heard his own keys jingling in the lock of his door.
"There is something seriously wrong with you," he'd sleepily mumbled as he was being poured into his own bed.
"The same to you, Uchiha Sasuke," the voice had sing-songed just as Sasuke got it in his head to pull the damned blindfold down and blink his vision back into clarity.
By the time he'd staggered drowsily out into the living room, he was gone.
*
Sasuke mutely drummed his fingers along the surface of the special collections desk, staring adamantly at the older woman behind the counter.
"... I'm sorry, can I help you?" she nervously simpered after having had quite enough.
"Where is he?" Sasuke demanded.
"Er, sorry?" she lifted her eyebrows, then gave a sigh, obviously sick and tired of dealing with rude students. "Which 'he' are you talking about, exactly?"
"The freak with the eye-patch. The one who wears scarves indoors when it's hotter than hell outside. The guy with the pornographic novels. That one."
"Oh, dear Hakko! Yes, yes," the woman recalled fondly. Sasuke nearly vomited when she flushed and giggled at some private memory that she had of him. Most likely some sort of fantasy, no doubt. "Oh, he's not in today. Is there something I can --"
"-- when will he be in again?" He vaguely hated her already. If anyone was going to be fantasizing about that quirky sonofabitch, it would be him, damn it.
... and that about did it, then. He really was going mad.
Swelling imposingly, the woman drew her glasses down from the bridge of her nose and began cleaning the frames on the hem of her blouse. "I'm afraid I don't have that answer, dear. You'll have to check with the --"
"Useless," Sasuke muttered before turning and wandering off, leaving a poor, flustered woman in his wake.
Hakko then, he thought. Well, at least it was a start.
*
"I won't tell you again," the gruff voice enunciated so seriously that it bordered on threatening. "Sit down, Sasuke."
"How do you do it?" Sasuke kept his hands in his pockets to show that he wasn't going to break every rule while he pushed him just a little bit harder. "You know your way around free-market case studies. You've got real world experience, I know you do. So how do you find the time to hang around masquerading as an eccentric librarian? Don't you know how creepy that is? You --"
Sasuke mmphed against the harsh press of something round and rubbery digging into his lips, the suffocating feel of his sponsor's hot palm covering half of his face and pushing hard. Without thinking, he grabbed the man's hands to steady himself and opened his mouth, but that choice was the wrong one. Doing so only allowed that hard, round bit of rubber to slide into place between his teeth and keep them pried apart. Before he knew what was happening, a buckle clicked into place behind his head. He fought.
"Stop it," his sponsor ordered. His voice had lost its usual calm, and for a fleeting moment Sasuke was genuinely worried that he'd pushed him too far. "Stop it now."
Scowling around his mouthful, Sasuke shoved almost petulantly at him, all martial arts technique abandoned under the weight of purely childish insolence. His eyebrows knit angrily together and he focused on breathing between the stripes of material now holding two of his senses hostage. His tongue worked to find a comfortable position around the weight of the ball in his mouth and found none.
Sasuke let his hands be dragged behind his back and winced when he felt his wrists bound together with a flurry of secure loops and knots.
He'd never experienced this level of helplessness before. At least all those times before, with his hands and mouth free, there'd been the illusion of escape if he'd really needed that sense of reassurance.
"Move," came the next order, and Sasuke nearly tripped over himself when he felt a patronizing tug on what must have been a few inches of extra rope. His feet were only afforded a few seconds to adjust to walking backwards in the dark, but they learned quickly when an especially impatient yank put a slight strain in the muscles of his shoulders.
"Sit," his sponsor snapped, accompanied by a rough shove downwards that brought a seat up under Sasuke faster than he'd expected.
Then there was a stretch of silence - one just long enough for him to identify that pumping, rhythmic sound as his own heartbeat racing in his ears.
His nostrils flared. He didn't like this at all.
"Tell me, Sasuke. Do you know what the Uchiha family business was really all about?"
Lightning may as well have struck him just then; the effect on his body was just as electrifying and just as immediate.
Aside from his traitorous brother, he'd never hated someone so much before in his life.
"Import, export. 'A shipping company,' you'd say. 'Everybody knows that.'"
Sasuke jumped to his feet and instantly wobbled from side-to-side when, with such cool condescension, his sponsor merely kicked one of his ankles out from under him and held that foot aloft with his own. Hopping indignantly on just the one foot for a few seconds, Sasuke growled wetly around the gag and twisted his leg away. Much to his irritation, he fell instantly backwards into that chair when his sponsor grabbed his lifted leg and steered him there.
"Oh, I'm sure you knew about the weapons. You were being groomed, after all, to assist your brother in taking over after you proved yourself worthy in business school. But I'll bet you didn't know about another kind of cargo, did you."
Breathing unevenly, Sasuke chose to sit there and bide his time while thinking his murderous thoughts. How had he ever found this man attractive? How had he ever wanted this? Or anything like it?
"Good," his sponsor suddenly sighed, as if a heavy burden had been removed from him. "Good," he repeated. "You really didn't. I knew you wouldn't."
Sasuke wanted to scream at the injustice of being forced to watch his own internal wounds be brought up to let fester on the surface.
So he did. It came out a muffled, slobbery mess that glistened along his stretched mouth and ran down his chin. He coughed violently.
"Breathe through your nose, Sasuke."
He did that too.
"Now listen to me, and listen closely. I'm telling you this now because certain big picture plans are being put into action that might have a direct impact on your life, and I don't want you to be surprised. Your brother will want to see you as soon as he's cleared to enter the country again. Don't hate him, Sasuke, and please agree to meet with him if and when he contacts you. He only did to your family what he was ordered to do."
What? No, that made no sense. Abruptly, Sasuke felt as if the world were suddenly dissolving all around him and threatening to fill him up. It was a hardship, this breathing thing, but he suspected that if the gag were removed he would start screaming and never stop. He wasn't sure whether to feel violated or grateful for it.
"I know it must sound like I'm speaking in riddles at you, but you have to understand that it will take time to accept that you've been lied to. You are my charge for a number of reasons, the number one being that I can and want to help you. As your sponsor for the Leaves of Fire society, I owe you not just the truth of why your parents and a number of your extended family members were put away for life, but also access to any and all case files surrounding their arrest that Itachi has left in my care. But first you must trust me enough to listen and believe everything I know regarding the Uchiha estate and your family's involvement with the society. You must trust me not to lie to you."
What? How could anyone get away with lying to him, anyway? He knew everything. He was a top student. He could have anything he wanted, and what he wanted most was to make his parents proud. So what if they'd cooked the books a little bit? Every majorly successful CEO had at one time or another. It was a dog-eat-dog world out there. How did any of this make any sense?
"You're not breathing like I told you to, Sasuke. If you keep that up, you'll pass out. Are you listening to me? Sasuke?"
Meet with his brother? The bastard who'd sold his parents down the river just to take over and restructure the corporation to his own liking? Meet with that selfish, greedy, disloyal sonfoabitch who had run the company into the ground within three years of his hostile takeover by doing shady business with a rival firm outside of the economic alliance of the five wealthiest nations? If it hadn't been for his parents setting aside a trust fund for his education, Sasuke would have had nothing thanks to one Uchiha Itachi.
Meet with his brother? Was he fucking kidding?!
"Sasuke."
Sasuke looked up at the concern in that voice. He felt strangely hot and cold all over. It couldn't have been a good sign.
A moment later the gag was removed. The coughing spell that shook him made him moan and swear under his breath.
"If I hold you like this, will you listen to me? There's a lot that I have to tell you, but I'll never get through it all if you challenge me every second. Do you understand?"
Sasuke nodded heavily, sucking breath after breath. Seeking warmth and reassurance, he turned his face into the anchor that was his sponsor's chest and let himself be moved to settle against him on a familiar couch.
It wasn't wholly comfortable on his neck or his bound wrists, but he didn't care. The promise of truth he couldn't even begin to imagine made him burn with the need to hear a full, unguarded explanation from the mouth of a man whom he truly wanted to trust. And he was finally willing to accept that to have those fingers gently combing through his hair as he lay there meant more to him than his good sense said that it should have.
He didn't fight. He just listened.
*
What felt like hours later Sasuke found himself seated in the back seat of what felt like an expensive car. The ride back to his place was a smooth one, though stifled with silence.
"We're here," his sponsor calmly announced as the car slowed. "Is there anything else I can do for you right now? I know it's a lot to make sense of --"
"-- can I see you?" Sasuke quietly asked. "I know it's against the rules," he admitted, fingers idly rubbing his tender wrists. "But please?"
The engine died a quick but profound death. There was a quiet moment, one rife with one thousand other unasked questions, but Sasuke hadn't asked any of them since the reveal. He had no immediate plans to ask them just now.
"As I understand it, my parents made their livelihood trafficking in human cargo," he ventured, speaking the horrible words aloud for the first time. Doing so made him feel ill, but his cool-headed tone gave no indication of as much. My mother lied to me. My mother knew. "Now, I'm supposed to sit here and accept this fact in total darkness. How am I --"
The sharp, hollow sound of a door opening and closing signaled to Sasuke that he was now the sole occupant of the car. Overloaded, he sank back against the seat and counted the seconds as they passed, taking them only for what they were and little else.
It was a cruel thing human beings did to the notion of time, never letting it just sit and be, always assigning it the burden of all their hopes and intentions. Always measuring it in terms of how things could be and never how they were. Maybe he --
Just as abruptly, the door beside him opened, letting in a whoosh of the night's humid air. "Make room for me," came the order. Sasuke scrambled to obey.
"Why did you do this to me?
Well, there went that plan to save all those questions for later. After having the world put so drastically into a different perspective, plans, both immediate and long term, seemed like a complete waste.
Since the end of that sordid tale, the one that had painted his brother as the lone, shipwrecked hero amidst a sea of corruption and debauchery, Sasuke had been living at the edges of his skin - both so far away from the building storm inside of him and a little too close to the elements. Just then, a strong summer breeze could have bowled him right over, and he wasn't quite sure if he would care.
"Why didn't you just tell me everything from the start? You indoctrinated me."
"Do you really believe that?" came the skeptical response. "Do you really think that after years of living your life on your own terms, someone could have swept in and stolen your willpower away from you after a handful of meetings?"
Sasuke grew indignant then, but still he did not reach for his blindfold. "You waved a chance to be part of the Leaves of Fire over my head. You held it out of reach, you tied me up... you touched me --"
"-- I think you're downplaying your own strength of spirit here, Sasuke," that voice gently reminded him. "Admit it. You would have fought me more."
Stubbornly, Sasuke pressed his lips into a tight line as he felt the man draw closer. He didn't want to argue anymore. Ironically enough, control freak that he was, he still preferred the idea that he hadn't chose any of this. Not these games, not this fucked up attraction, and certainly not the desire to be wholly led, for just a little while, from one week to another.
"So what's your answer? Do I get to see you or not?"
"Who do you want to see?" The response came faster than Sasuke thought it would. He felt emboldened by the thought that his sponsor wanted this just as much as he did. "Who do you think I am? Do you know me?"
Sasuke sucked a sharp breath. "Yes."
"Is that right? Then why has it taken you so long to recognize my voice?"
At that, Sasuke's lips spread into something a bit more like himself, anticipation making the hairs rise on his neck. "I put up with a lot of bullshit from a lot of different people on a daily basis. And when you're pretending to be cheerful, you sound like a raving lunatic."
"Ouch," came the low chuckle. "Well, duly noted."
Sasuke's haughty smirk softened into something of a private smile as the image of the bizarrely fashioned librarian floated into view. He found that now, he didn't mind the image so much. The absurdity of it was almost charming. "Hakko. That's not your name, is it."
"I see you did your research too?"
Sasuke drew a shaky breath when a warm, rough palm trailed the shape of his cheek. He had to stop himself from nuzzling at the man's lifeline. He stiffened when a thumb hooked underneath the fabric to give a first, teasing tug.
"I tried," he tensely admitted.
"Kakashi, then," the man replied the very moment he drew the blindfold from Sasuke's eyes.
For a long moment, everything seemed frustratingly bright. Of course, he was accustomed to this by now, but what he wasn't accustomed to was the sight of that damned odd librarian looking suddenly... a little less odd. Scars and all, Sasuke couldn't decide if he'd truly never seen anyone so handsome in his life or if this particularly embarrassing amount of awe was borne purely from the fact that he was seeing him for the first time.
Blank-faced, Sasuke noted, "Your eyes are different colors."
"Well," he began, and Sasuke found himself transfixed by the sight of his lips -- full but firm, alluringly expressive -- forming words. It was such a novel experience to him that he couldn't stop staring. "There's a story about that, but I think I've told you enough stories for one night."
"Kakashi," Sasuke repeated, his eyebrows rising in shock. He'd never seen pictures before, but the name suddenly clicked. "... Hatake Kakashi? Son of Konoha's White Fang? Son of --"
"-- the former head of Konoha's largest criminal organization? Yes. But he wasn't one, not really. The things he did for the L of F..." Kakashi -- (Sasuke was having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that this man, this voice, now belonged to a name) -- shook his head and licked his lips. "Well, you'll come to know, moreso than anyone else I know, that the legacies left in the world can be so profoundly different from one's reality."
"But you... you were involved in my uncle's death a long time ago. You're supposed to be dead."
Kakashi smiled, his eyes crinkling in a way that made Sasuke think that his performance as the librarian wasn't so far off the mark after all. "I'm supposed to be a lot of things. Makes it easier to move the bigger pieces of the puzzle around unnoticed. And when you're dead, well, you generally end up with a lot more time on your hands."
Piously cavalier; that's what the man was. A few hours of confession and suddenly the sins of the world were forgiven. With that revelation came another wave of weariness that made Sasuke drop his eyes and shake his head. How a man could live such an ephemeral life, one without a care for his reputation, both disconcerted and amazed him.
What was he to be now if not the sum of his family's parts? Kakashi was right. He'd need time to get used to all of this.
"Ah," Kakashi nodded in understanding. "Yes, well. That's probably enough for one night."
He didn't get very far, however. The second he moved to open the back seat door again, Sasuke reached out to grab a handful of his crisp white shirt.
It felt sinfully good to be able to watch as a burst of wrinkles rippled around the expensive fabric clutched in his fist. To witness how Kakashi's collar dipped under the tug; how the whole of his body was affected. "No," Sasuke murmured with such hair-raising, blood-boiling intent that he even surprised himself. He returned his eyes to the mismatched ones staring back at him with mild surprise. "It's really not."
Once again a conspicuous silence settled in the car. This time, however, the quiet was an active participant in the shared space between them. It roiled and promised, charged with a wealth of sexual energy, and Sasuke saw it, felt it, and saw that Kakashi felt it too.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" came the all-too-objective response.
Without hesitation, Sasuke climbed sinuously into Kakashi's lap, one leg slithering over slim black dress pants to better straddle him against the back of the seat. An eager heat filled him at the prospect of putting his hands on Kakashi's shoulders, on his neck, tracing the line of his clean-shaven chin, and actually getting to see this happen with his own two eyes. Instead, he carded his fingers through prematurely gray hair, mouth falling partially open at the sight afforded to him.
Those were his fingers in that hair, and after so much time spent imagining its color, the total lack of pigmentation made the experience that much better. "Don't ask stupid questions."
Sasuke got as far as opening his mouth in bratty protest before the potential of his new position registered. It had happened so fast, Kakashi shoving him first out of his lap, then roughly stomach-first against the cushy brown leather of the backrest. So fast that his mouth still hung open around the shape of a long-dead sound, perhaps a 'why' or a 'what' or some other start of a question abruptly made redundant by the feel of Kakashi's fevered hands, one swimming through his hair, the other already unzipping Sasuke's jeans.
Bracing his hands against the neck-rest, Sasuke closed his mouth, swallowed, and continued to stare unblinkingly ahead through the rear window while a fist dragged his boxer briefs down along with the denim. They were parked conveniently between a large dumpster and a corner where two intersecting fences met each other. A small but useful parking lot stretched onward from the front of the car all the way up to the back entrance of his apartment building. No one would see them.
A single, rolling turn of his head brought them face-to-face again over the hunching curve of Sasuke's shoulder when a palm glided down the exposed side of his right thigh, leaving burning skin in his wake. What he saw in Kakashi's mismatched eyes brought the reality of his situation into sharp focus: he was naked from the knees up, waist down, and he really was going to get fucked.
Right here, right now, and he suspected he was going to like it.
"Oh God," Sasuke grunted, his breath catching. His hand shook as he wrapped it around Kakashi's larger one and held it there for a long moment, wrapped firmly around his bare, risen cock.
"Still sure?" Kakashi finally whispered against the nape of his neck. "I'm taking that as a yes," he teased when Sasuke bucked persistently into their laced fingers.
Not quite trusting his voice anymore, Sasuke let his head fall back, exposing the long line of his neck and the little patches of flushed pink spreading there. Sagging back against the long plane of Kakashi's chest, he endured the slow, indulgent strokes of his sponsor's fist, clutching tight to his knuckles just to feel the man's hand at work without any real intent to guide him.
And it was good, that tight, dragging pressure, so much so that Kakashi had him grinding wantonly back against the the hard outline of his clothed cock in no time. Especially impressive since he'd never had anyone fill him up before, contrary to Naruto's routine assumptions. Yes, it was good, but it was so much better when there were fingers pumping wetly in and out of his mouth because knew that particular level of goodness was almost at an end. And when he'd finally been stretched and pushed, teased and pried wide open, he was near delirious with his ever-increasing knowledge of just how many levels of good there could be.
It went like this: quick and dirty, hip-jarringly deep. Spread so far apart that his white knees were a raw, angry red by the time they were done. Later that night Sasuke would reflect on the possession in pieces and shards, for that's exactly what it was. A yanking, hair-pulling, back-bowing exercise in taking and being taken. He'd nearly cried under the splitting force of Kakashi's thrusts, ridden hard and manhandled with a mind-blowing precision that had him shaking, ruined and wet. He'd definitely screamed with his cheek rubbed raw against the seat leather and his arms held bent and pinned behind his back. And he'd come harder than he'd ever come in his life, and then he'd lain there while Kakashi steadily fucked him into a glorious mess. Yes, his suspicions about liking it had been oh so right.
Later that night Sasuke would reflect on all of those little moments during, and further still all of the moments that had come before. All the way back to when he'd bought on what he'd thought was a whim, but now knew had been a cleverly inserted suggestion, a carton of blueberries from the Saturday market. They looked especially fresh this morning, Kakashi had beamed while handing over his requested book. You should try them sometime, he'd said.
As he lay there sore and curled up on his side in his bed, letting his mind drift and float between the horrors of his own family secrets, the confusion of his place and purpose in this foreign world, and the small not quite lessons, but not quite useless bits of experience that he'd gathered to him within the past couple of months, Sasuke felt certain only of that which his five senses could tell him.
He'd heard too much of what he did not want, touched, felt, seen and smelled too little of what he did.
And he'd tasted that pungent, bittersweet flavor, that fleshy, unsatisfying bite of what he could only call some new and uncontrolled beginning.
*
A month later Sasuke received stellar marks on his business school exams. He also received his first phone call from his brother.
It went well, all things considered. With Kakashi sprawled out on his couch in the living room, sorting through a pile of DVDs, he'd agreed to let a man called Kisame tag along to their first meeting in five years as long as Kakashi could come too.
"Are you nervous?" Kakashi looked up when Sasuke set the phone down.
"About what?" he calmly replied, blandly meeting his eyes.
A quiet moment passed before Kakashi dragged himself up from the couch and, with a lazy scratch of his chin, moved in closer to lead Sasuke into a loose hug by the scruff of his neck.
"About the jounin ceremony. You've still got two days to back out, you know," he murmured into Sasuke's hair, fingers absently stroking up and through it from his nape.
"I need to finish this," Sasuke murmured into his chest, the words muffled further as he curled his arms around Kakashi's back. "There's so much to be done with the company," he recited to himself for the hundredth time. "Working within the Leaves, Itachi and I can fix the mess Madara got the family into with the Akatsuki."
"Have you talked to Naruto yet? And Sakura too. Your friends are untapped resources, Sasuke," Kakashi gently reminded him. "They're making jounin for a reason."
Sasuke grumbled and pulled back from him. "I'm working on it."
Smiling cheerfully, Kakashi reached for him again, only this time he began to drag him towards the couch. "Well, that's enough of that for now. Now bear with me. I really think you're really going to enjoy this one!"
When Kakashi flashed his chosen DVD title, Sasuke groaned out loud and yanked his hand free. "I'm not watching that crap. Do that rom-com shit on your own time, will you? Tch," he scoffed. "'Make-Out Paradise.' You've got to be kidding me. I thought that was a front."
"Have you learned nothing?" Kakashi smirked casually as he reached for him again, grabbing at Sasuke's left arm when he held his right one out of reach.
A month may have been a long time for the dust to settle, but it wasn't nearly enough for his lungs to evolve. Sasuke couldn't breathe completely easy yet, and wouldn't be able to for some time. But not more than ten or so minutes of resisting the man purely on principle, Sasuke deigned to let himself be caught.
Fandom: Naruto.
Characters: Kakashi/Sasuke.
Chapter: 2/2.
Rating: R for very adult themes.
Wordcount: Roughly, 6,000.
Warnings: D/s, light bondage, sensory deprivation, dub-con, penetration, mind games, dark themes.
Prompt: Something AU. Humor would be good. Other than that, surprise me.
Summary: He was losing control - losing it to Naruto, to any other "friends" who could possibly get in his way, and most ashamedly, to a man whose face he'd never seen.
A/Ns: And the second part. It was meant to be one long fic and probably reads better as one long fic, but LJ wouldn't let me post it all at once. Hence me posting two separate entries.
"What is it, moron? I have thirty text messages consisting of just my name all because of you," Sasuke hissed, cell phone held tightly to his ear where he lingered outside of the university library.
"Ahahaha," Naruto replied. "Er, sorry. Got a little carried away there. Anyway, you need to stop holing yourself up in the dungeons, Sasuke. It's not healthy, spending twelve hours a day in the library. I've got law school exams coming up too, you know, but you don't see me overdoing it. I know we're both spending the summer on campus, but it's still summer and you've been in there just about every day for three weeks straight!"
"Tch, leave me alone, idiot," and with that Sasuke clicked 'END' and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
"Back again, are we?" the creepy scarf-and-eye-patch-wearing man behind the special collections desk all but saluted him cheerfully when he slapped his student card down.
"Obviously," Sasuke snapped, his nerves fried. "What, no porn today?" he tutted coldly upon realizing that the crazy person's trademark orange book wasn't in sight.
"Ah, how observant!" he cheerfully continued, the lone visible eye crinkling upwards with utter glee before he turned and disappeared behind the stacks. Sasuke happily let his mind wander elsewhere, though for some odd reason it decided to retreat back to the warehouse. He must've been going mad if he was starting to hear his sponsor's voice coming out of this crazy bastard's mouth, of all people. He needed to get his damn book, and then he needed to get to his study alcove as quickly as possible.
Lately, that was the only place in which his mind didn't wander back to those seeking hands, that blindfold. It was the only place in which his concentration wasn't completely spoiled by a husky tone and those maddening touches bordering on something dark and deviant, something that he shouldn't have been so curious to feel.
"Here you are," the librarian returned with a highly coveted text that would help him immensely in preparing for his business school exams. "And here it is! The latest edition!"
Sasuke glowered at a blue book clutched affectionately to the librarian's chest. It had the same 'prohibited' sign that he'd seen stamped on the cover of the orange book quite a few times. Not too many times, though. This particular librarian wasn't a regular. Sasuke had guessed he was a temp of sorts. Ridiculous.
"Yeah, you enjoy that," Sasuke snorted brusquely before turning on heel.
"The same to you, Uchiha Sasuke," the librarian uttered, and Sasuke paused mid-step, curbing the urge to turn and glance back at him at the use of his name, a peculiar shiver coursing through his body.
No. He was being silly. He continued walking.
*
"You look stressed tonight," the voice observed as Sasuke stood in the doorway of their meeting room three days later, having already tied the blindfold into place.
"Hn," he humphed through his nose, mouth tightly pinched with exhaustion. "Do I?"
A long moment of silence passed between them, whereupon Sasuke remained perfectly stolid and allowed himself to be assessed. Tonight, he didn't care.
That morning he had received word that his parents' latest appeal for release had been denied. And on top of that, he had his business school exams to take tomorrow.
The weight of this knowledge had dogged his steps all day long, and when he had been sitting still at the library, it had made a leaden home in his belly. He felt sick with too much information. Tonight, he wouldn't care what was done with him.
He wasn't surprised when a hand closed around his wrist and he heard the door slide shut behind him.
"Change of plans," the voice informed him as he was led further into the room, stopped, and turned to face the soft press of some sort of edge nudging the front of his thighs. "Lift your arms."
Wordlessly, Sasuke did so. He didn't flinch when his shirt was lifted up and over his head.
"I am going to undress the rest of you now."
This time he did flinch, tensing all over, but the response was fleeting. A moment later his shoulders slumped.
This wasn't how he'd hoped it would happen. He'd hoped to participate, to make it difficult, to rattle the man's composure. But he was used to disappointment where only the most intimately important of matters were concerned. After his parents were convicted and sent to a cushy prison for cooking the books and embezzling money, he'd gotten accustomed to the possibility of a grand upset whenever a person had managed to sink their fingers in too deeply.
He was losing control - losing it to Naruto, to any other "friends" who could possibly get in his way, and most ashamedly, to a man whose face he'd never seen.
Perhaps when he reached out blindly for his sponsor's hand and brought long, thin fingers to the front of his belt, he did so in a last ditch effort to gain some of it back.
"Do it," Sasuke said.
And even though he knew that those hands making quick work of his zipper weren't doing so at his command, being able to say those words out loud made him feel, in a peculiarly dysfunctional way, just a little bit better.
*
Sasuke couldn't remember ever having slept so well. He'd needed it badly too - the exams had been exceptionally challenging, but as he left the testing facility, he felt confident that he'd aced them.
A stubborn, self-righteous little warmth had wormed its way into his chest and taken up residence there ever since he'd woken up that morning. If the normal, unsullied way his ass felt was any indication, nothing had happened - nothing that couldn't be construed as innocent, anyway.
Once naked, he'd been instructed to lie face down along what had felt like a luxurious, towel-covered surface, his anxiety around the exposure of his body fading as soon as skilled hands slid through his hair and began a liquefying massage from head to toe that seemed to last for hours. Somewhere between the oiled slope of his back, the innocent skip over the rise of his ass and the deep-tissue massage along the backs of his thighs, he'd fallen asleep.
He'd woken up several times between the warehouse and the trip back to his apartment - once as he was being dressed, a second time as the loud ping of a functioning elevator invaded his groggy hearing. He'd wanted so badly to climb down and give his sponsor attitude for having drugged him -- there must have been some sort of sedative in that damned massage oil -- but found himself instead wrapping his arms more securely around his neck and breathing in the twin scents of clean sweat and cologne.
He'd woken up for a last time when he heard his own keys jingling in the lock of his door.
"There is something seriously wrong with you," he'd sleepily mumbled as he was being poured into his own bed.
"The same to you, Uchiha Sasuke," the voice had sing-songed just as Sasuke got it in his head to pull the damned blindfold down and blink his vision back into clarity.
By the time he'd staggered drowsily out into the living room, he was gone.
*
Sasuke mutely drummed his fingers along the surface of the special collections desk, staring adamantly at the older woman behind the counter.
"... I'm sorry, can I help you?" she nervously simpered after having had quite enough.
"Where is he?" Sasuke demanded.
"Er, sorry?" she lifted her eyebrows, then gave a sigh, obviously sick and tired of dealing with rude students. "Which 'he' are you talking about, exactly?"
"The freak with the eye-patch. The one who wears scarves indoors when it's hotter than hell outside. The guy with the pornographic novels. That one."
"Oh, dear Hakko! Yes, yes," the woman recalled fondly. Sasuke nearly vomited when she flushed and giggled at some private memory that she had of him. Most likely some sort of fantasy, no doubt. "Oh, he's not in today. Is there something I can --"
"-- when will he be in again?" He vaguely hated her already. If anyone was going to be fantasizing about that quirky sonofabitch, it would be him, damn it.
... and that about did it, then. He really was going mad.
Swelling imposingly, the woman drew her glasses down from the bridge of her nose and began cleaning the frames on the hem of her blouse. "I'm afraid I don't have that answer, dear. You'll have to check with the --"
"Useless," Sasuke muttered before turning and wandering off, leaving a poor, flustered woman in his wake.
Hakko then, he thought. Well, at least it was a start.
*
"I won't tell you again," the gruff voice enunciated so seriously that it bordered on threatening. "Sit down, Sasuke."
"How do you do it?" Sasuke kept his hands in his pockets to show that he wasn't going to break every rule while he pushed him just a little bit harder. "You know your way around free-market case studies. You've got real world experience, I know you do. So how do you find the time to hang around masquerading as an eccentric librarian? Don't you know how creepy that is? You --"
Sasuke mmphed against the harsh press of something round and rubbery digging into his lips, the suffocating feel of his sponsor's hot palm covering half of his face and pushing hard. Without thinking, he grabbed the man's hands to steady himself and opened his mouth, but that choice was the wrong one. Doing so only allowed that hard, round bit of rubber to slide into place between his teeth and keep them pried apart. Before he knew what was happening, a buckle clicked into place behind his head. He fought.
"Stop it," his sponsor ordered. His voice had lost its usual calm, and for a fleeting moment Sasuke was genuinely worried that he'd pushed him too far. "Stop it now."
Scowling around his mouthful, Sasuke shoved almost petulantly at him, all martial arts technique abandoned under the weight of purely childish insolence. His eyebrows knit angrily together and he focused on breathing between the stripes of material now holding two of his senses hostage. His tongue worked to find a comfortable position around the weight of the ball in his mouth and found none.
Sasuke let his hands be dragged behind his back and winced when he felt his wrists bound together with a flurry of secure loops and knots.
He'd never experienced this level of helplessness before. At least all those times before, with his hands and mouth free, there'd been the illusion of escape if he'd really needed that sense of reassurance.
"Move," came the next order, and Sasuke nearly tripped over himself when he felt a patronizing tug on what must have been a few inches of extra rope. His feet were only afforded a few seconds to adjust to walking backwards in the dark, but they learned quickly when an especially impatient yank put a slight strain in the muscles of his shoulders.
"Sit," his sponsor snapped, accompanied by a rough shove downwards that brought a seat up under Sasuke faster than he'd expected.
Then there was a stretch of silence - one just long enough for him to identify that pumping, rhythmic sound as his own heartbeat racing in his ears.
His nostrils flared. He didn't like this at all.
"Tell me, Sasuke. Do you know what the Uchiha family business was really all about?"
Lightning may as well have struck him just then; the effect on his body was just as electrifying and just as immediate.
Aside from his traitorous brother, he'd never hated someone so much before in his life.
"Import, export. 'A shipping company,' you'd say. 'Everybody knows that.'"
Sasuke jumped to his feet and instantly wobbled from side-to-side when, with such cool condescension, his sponsor merely kicked one of his ankles out from under him and held that foot aloft with his own. Hopping indignantly on just the one foot for a few seconds, Sasuke growled wetly around the gag and twisted his leg away. Much to his irritation, he fell instantly backwards into that chair when his sponsor grabbed his lifted leg and steered him there.
"Oh, I'm sure you knew about the weapons. You were being groomed, after all, to assist your brother in taking over after you proved yourself worthy in business school. But I'll bet you didn't know about another kind of cargo, did you."
Breathing unevenly, Sasuke chose to sit there and bide his time while thinking his murderous thoughts. How had he ever found this man attractive? How had he ever wanted this? Or anything like it?
"Good," his sponsor suddenly sighed, as if a heavy burden had been removed from him. "Good," he repeated. "You really didn't. I knew you wouldn't."
Sasuke wanted to scream at the injustice of being forced to watch his own internal wounds be brought up to let fester on the surface.
So he did. It came out a muffled, slobbery mess that glistened along his stretched mouth and ran down his chin. He coughed violently.
"Breathe through your nose, Sasuke."
He did that too.
"Now listen to me, and listen closely. I'm telling you this now because certain big picture plans are being put into action that might have a direct impact on your life, and I don't want you to be surprised. Your brother will want to see you as soon as he's cleared to enter the country again. Don't hate him, Sasuke, and please agree to meet with him if and when he contacts you. He only did to your family what he was ordered to do."
What? No, that made no sense. Abruptly, Sasuke felt as if the world were suddenly dissolving all around him and threatening to fill him up. It was a hardship, this breathing thing, but he suspected that if the gag were removed he would start screaming and never stop. He wasn't sure whether to feel violated or grateful for it.
"I know it must sound like I'm speaking in riddles at you, but you have to understand that it will take time to accept that you've been lied to. You are my charge for a number of reasons, the number one being that I can and want to help you. As your sponsor for the Leaves of Fire society, I owe you not just the truth of why your parents and a number of your extended family members were put away for life, but also access to any and all case files surrounding their arrest that Itachi has left in my care. But first you must trust me enough to listen and believe everything I know regarding the Uchiha estate and your family's involvement with the society. You must trust me not to lie to you."
What? How could anyone get away with lying to him, anyway? He knew everything. He was a top student. He could have anything he wanted, and what he wanted most was to make his parents proud. So what if they'd cooked the books a little bit? Every majorly successful CEO had at one time or another. It was a dog-eat-dog world out there. How did any of this make any sense?
"You're not breathing like I told you to, Sasuke. If you keep that up, you'll pass out. Are you listening to me? Sasuke?"
Meet with his brother? The bastard who'd sold his parents down the river just to take over and restructure the corporation to his own liking? Meet with that selfish, greedy, disloyal sonfoabitch who had run the company into the ground within three years of his hostile takeover by doing shady business with a rival firm outside of the economic alliance of the five wealthiest nations? If it hadn't been for his parents setting aside a trust fund for his education, Sasuke would have had nothing thanks to one Uchiha Itachi.
Meet with his brother? Was he fucking kidding?!
"Sasuke."
Sasuke looked up at the concern in that voice. He felt strangely hot and cold all over. It couldn't have been a good sign.
A moment later the gag was removed. The coughing spell that shook him made him moan and swear under his breath.
"If I hold you like this, will you listen to me? There's a lot that I have to tell you, but I'll never get through it all if you challenge me every second. Do you understand?"
Sasuke nodded heavily, sucking breath after breath. Seeking warmth and reassurance, he turned his face into the anchor that was his sponsor's chest and let himself be moved to settle against him on a familiar couch.
It wasn't wholly comfortable on his neck or his bound wrists, but he didn't care. The promise of truth he couldn't even begin to imagine made him burn with the need to hear a full, unguarded explanation from the mouth of a man whom he truly wanted to trust. And he was finally willing to accept that to have those fingers gently combing through his hair as he lay there meant more to him than his good sense said that it should have.
He didn't fight. He just listened.
*
What felt like hours later Sasuke found himself seated in the back seat of what felt like an expensive car. The ride back to his place was a smooth one, though stifled with silence.
"We're here," his sponsor calmly announced as the car slowed. "Is there anything else I can do for you right now? I know it's a lot to make sense of --"
"-- can I see you?" Sasuke quietly asked. "I know it's against the rules," he admitted, fingers idly rubbing his tender wrists. "But please?"
The engine died a quick but profound death. There was a quiet moment, one rife with one thousand other unasked questions, but Sasuke hadn't asked any of them since the reveal. He had no immediate plans to ask them just now.
"As I understand it, my parents made their livelihood trafficking in human cargo," he ventured, speaking the horrible words aloud for the first time. Doing so made him feel ill, but his cool-headed tone gave no indication of as much. My mother lied to me. My mother knew. "Now, I'm supposed to sit here and accept this fact in total darkness. How am I --"
The sharp, hollow sound of a door opening and closing signaled to Sasuke that he was now the sole occupant of the car. Overloaded, he sank back against the seat and counted the seconds as they passed, taking them only for what they were and little else.
It was a cruel thing human beings did to the notion of time, never letting it just sit and be, always assigning it the burden of all their hopes and intentions. Always measuring it in terms of how things could be and never how they were. Maybe he --
Just as abruptly, the door beside him opened, letting in a whoosh of the night's humid air. "Make room for me," came the order. Sasuke scrambled to obey.
"Why did you do this to me?
Well, there went that plan to save all those questions for later. After having the world put so drastically into a different perspective, plans, both immediate and long term, seemed like a complete waste.
Since the end of that sordid tale, the one that had painted his brother as the lone, shipwrecked hero amidst a sea of corruption and debauchery, Sasuke had been living at the edges of his skin - both so far away from the building storm inside of him and a little too close to the elements. Just then, a strong summer breeze could have bowled him right over, and he wasn't quite sure if he would care.
"Why didn't you just tell me everything from the start? You indoctrinated me."
"Do you really believe that?" came the skeptical response. "Do you really think that after years of living your life on your own terms, someone could have swept in and stolen your willpower away from you after a handful of meetings?"
Sasuke grew indignant then, but still he did not reach for his blindfold. "You waved a chance to be part of the Leaves of Fire over my head. You held it out of reach, you tied me up... you touched me --"
"-- I think you're downplaying your own strength of spirit here, Sasuke," that voice gently reminded him. "Admit it. You would have fought me more."
Stubbornly, Sasuke pressed his lips into a tight line as he felt the man draw closer. He didn't want to argue anymore. Ironically enough, control freak that he was, he still preferred the idea that he hadn't chose any of this. Not these games, not this fucked up attraction, and certainly not the desire to be wholly led, for just a little while, from one week to another.
"So what's your answer? Do I get to see you or not?"
"Who do you want to see?" The response came faster than Sasuke thought it would. He felt emboldened by the thought that his sponsor wanted this just as much as he did. "Who do you think I am? Do you know me?"
Sasuke sucked a sharp breath. "Yes."
"Is that right? Then why has it taken you so long to recognize my voice?"
At that, Sasuke's lips spread into something a bit more like himself, anticipation making the hairs rise on his neck. "I put up with a lot of bullshit from a lot of different people on a daily basis. And when you're pretending to be cheerful, you sound like a raving lunatic."
"Ouch," came the low chuckle. "Well, duly noted."
Sasuke's haughty smirk softened into something of a private smile as the image of the bizarrely fashioned librarian floated into view. He found that now, he didn't mind the image so much. The absurdity of it was almost charming. "Hakko. That's not your name, is it."
"I see you did your research too?"
Sasuke drew a shaky breath when a warm, rough palm trailed the shape of his cheek. He had to stop himself from nuzzling at the man's lifeline. He stiffened when a thumb hooked underneath the fabric to give a first, teasing tug.
"I tried," he tensely admitted.
"Kakashi, then," the man replied the very moment he drew the blindfold from Sasuke's eyes.
For a long moment, everything seemed frustratingly bright. Of course, he was accustomed to this by now, but what he wasn't accustomed to was the sight of that damned odd librarian looking suddenly... a little less odd. Scars and all, Sasuke couldn't decide if he'd truly never seen anyone so handsome in his life or if this particularly embarrassing amount of awe was borne purely from the fact that he was seeing him for the first time.
Blank-faced, Sasuke noted, "Your eyes are different colors."
"Well," he began, and Sasuke found himself transfixed by the sight of his lips -- full but firm, alluringly expressive -- forming words. It was such a novel experience to him that he couldn't stop staring. "There's a story about that, but I think I've told you enough stories for one night."
"Kakashi," Sasuke repeated, his eyebrows rising in shock. He'd never seen pictures before, but the name suddenly clicked. "... Hatake Kakashi? Son of Konoha's White Fang? Son of --"
"-- the former head of Konoha's largest criminal organization? Yes. But he wasn't one, not really. The things he did for the L of F..." Kakashi -- (Sasuke was having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that this man, this voice, now belonged to a name) -- shook his head and licked his lips. "Well, you'll come to know, moreso than anyone else I know, that the legacies left in the world can be so profoundly different from one's reality."
"But you... you were involved in my uncle's death a long time ago. You're supposed to be dead."
Kakashi smiled, his eyes crinkling in a way that made Sasuke think that his performance as the librarian wasn't so far off the mark after all. "I'm supposed to be a lot of things. Makes it easier to move the bigger pieces of the puzzle around unnoticed. And when you're dead, well, you generally end up with a lot more time on your hands."
Piously cavalier; that's what the man was. A few hours of confession and suddenly the sins of the world were forgiven. With that revelation came another wave of weariness that made Sasuke drop his eyes and shake his head. How a man could live such an ephemeral life, one without a care for his reputation, both disconcerted and amazed him.
What was he to be now if not the sum of his family's parts? Kakashi was right. He'd need time to get used to all of this.
"Ah," Kakashi nodded in understanding. "Yes, well. That's probably enough for one night."
He didn't get very far, however. The second he moved to open the back seat door again, Sasuke reached out to grab a handful of his crisp white shirt.
It felt sinfully good to be able to watch as a burst of wrinkles rippled around the expensive fabric clutched in his fist. To witness how Kakashi's collar dipped under the tug; how the whole of his body was affected. "No," Sasuke murmured with such hair-raising, blood-boiling intent that he even surprised himself. He returned his eyes to the mismatched ones staring back at him with mild surprise. "It's really not."
Once again a conspicuous silence settled in the car. This time, however, the quiet was an active participant in the shared space between them. It roiled and promised, charged with a wealth of sexual energy, and Sasuke saw it, felt it, and saw that Kakashi felt it too.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" came the all-too-objective response.
Without hesitation, Sasuke climbed sinuously into Kakashi's lap, one leg slithering over slim black dress pants to better straddle him against the back of the seat. An eager heat filled him at the prospect of putting his hands on Kakashi's shoulders, on his neck, tracing the line of his clean-shaven chin, and actually getting to see this happen with his own two eyes. Instead, he carded his fingers through prematurely gray hair, mouth falling partially open at the sight afforded to him.
Those were his fingers in that hair, and after so much time spent imagining its color, the total lack of pigmentation made the experience that much better. "Don't ask stupid questions."
Sasuke got as far as opening his mouth in bratty protest before the potential of his new position registered. It had happened so fast, Kakashi shoving him first out of his lap, then roughly stomach-first against the cushy brown leather of the backrest. So fast that his mouth still hung open around the shape of a long-dead sound, perhaps a 'why' or a 'what' or some other start of a question abruptly made redundant by the feel of Kakashi's fevered hands, one swimming through his hair, the other already unzipping Sasuke's jeans.
Bracing his hands against the neck-rest, Sasuke closed his mouth, swallowed, and continued to stare unblinkingly ahead through the rear window while a fist dragged his boxer briefs down along with the denim. They were parked conveniently between a large dumpster and a corner where two intersecting fences met each other. A small but useful parking lot stretched onward from the front of the car all the way up to the back entrance of his apartment building. No one would see them.
A single, rolling turn of his head brought them face-to-face again over the hunching curve of Sasuke's shoulder when a palm glided down the exposed side of his right thigh, leaving burning skin in his wake. What he saw in Kakashi's mismatched eyes brought the reality of his situation into sharp focus: he was naked from the knees up, waist down, and he really was going to get fucked.
Right here, right now, and he suspected he was going to like it.
"Oh God," Sasuke grunted, his breath catching. His hand shook as he wrapped it around Kakashi's larger one and held it there for a long moment, wrapped firmly around his bare, risen cock.
"Still sure?" Kakashi finally whispered against the nape of his neck. "I'm taking that as a yes," he teased when Sasuke bucked persistently into their laced fingers.
Not quite trusting his voice anymore, Sasuke let his head fall back, exposing the long line of his neck and the little patches of flushed pink spreading there. Sagging back against the long plane of Kakashi's chest, he endured the slow, indulgent strokes of his sponsor's fist, clutching tight to his knuckles just to feel the man's hand at work without any real intent to guide him.
And it was good, that tight, dragging pressure, so much so that Kakashi had him grinding wantonly back against the the hard outline of his clothed cock in no time. Especially impressive since he'd never had anyone fill him up before, contrary to Naruto's routine assumptions. Yes, it was good, but it was so much better when there were fingers pumping wetly in and out of his mouth because knew that particular level of goodness was almost at an end. And when he'd finally been stretched and pushed, teased and pried wide open, he was near delirious with his ever-increasing knowledge of just how many levels of good there could be.
It went like this: quick and dirty, hip-jarringly deep. Spread so far apart that his white knees were a raw, angry red by the time they were done. Later that night Sasuke would reflect on the possession in pieces and shards, for that's exactly what it was. A yanking, hair-pulling, back-bowing exercise in taking and being taken. He'd nearly cried under the splitting force of Kakashi's thrusts, ridden hard and manhandled with a mind-blowing precision that had him shaking, ruined and wet. He'd definitely screamed with his cheek rubbed raw against the seat leather and his arms held bent and pinned behind his back. And he'd come harder than he'd ever come in his life, and then he'd lain there while Kakashi steadily fucked him into a glorious mess. Yes, his suspicions about liking it had been oh so right.
Later that night Sasuke would reflect on all of those little moments during, and further still all of the moments that had come before. All the way back to when he'd bought on what he'd thought was a whim, but now knew had been a cleverly inserted suggestion, a carton of blueberries from the Saturday market. They looked especially fresh this morning, Kakashi had beamed while handing over his requested book. You should try them sometime, he'd said.
As he lay there sore and curled up on his side in his bed, letting his mind drift and float between the horrors of his own family secrets, the confusion of his place and purpose in this foreign world, and the small not quite lessons, but not quite useless bits of experience that he'd gathered to him within the past couple of months, Sasuke felt certain only of that which his five senses could tell him.
He'd heard too much of what he did not want, touched, felt, seen and smelled too little of what he did.
And he'd tasted that pungent, bittersweet flavor, that fleshy, unsatisfying bite of what he could only call some new and uncontrolled beginning.
*
A month later Sasuke received stellar marks on his business school exams. He also received his first phone call from his brother.
It went well, all things considered. With Kakashi sprawled out on his couch in the living room, sorting through a pile of DVDs, he'd agreed to let a man called Kisame tag along to their first meeting in five years as long as Kakashi could come too.
"Are you nervous?" Kakashi looked up when Sasuke set the phone down.
"About what?" he calmly replied, blandly meeting his eyes.
A quiet moment passed before Kakashi dragged himself up from the couch and, with a lazy scratch of his chin, moved in closer to lead Sasuke into a loose hug by the scruff of his neck.
"About the jounin ceremony. You've still got two days to back out, you know," he murmured into Sasuke's hair, fingers absently stroking up and through it from his nape.
"I need to finish this," Sasuke murmured into his chest, the words muffled further as he curled his arms around Kakashi's back. "There's so much to be done with the company," he recited to himself for the hundredth time. "Working within the Leaves, Itachi and I can fix the mess Madara got the family into with the Akatsuki."
"Have you talked to Naruto yet? And Sakura too. Your friends are untapped resources, Sasuke," Kakashi gently reminded him. "They're making jounin for a reason."
Sasuke grumbled and pulled back from him. "I'm working on it."
Smiling cheerfully, Kakashi reached for him again, only this time he began to drag him towards the couch. "Well, that's enough of that for now. Now bear with me. I really think you're really going to enjoy this one!"
When Kakashi flashed his chosen DVD title, Sasuke groaned out loud and yanked his hand free. "I'm not watching that crap. Do that rom-com shit on your own time, will you? Tch," he scoffed. "'Make-Out Paradise.' You've got to be kidding me. I thought that was a front."
"Have you learned nothing?" Kakashi smirked casually as he reached for him again, grabbing at Sasuke's left arm when he held his right one out of reach.
A month may have been a long time for the dust to settle, but it wasn't nearly enough for his lungs to evolve. Sasuke couldn't breathe completely easy yet, and wouldn't be able to for some time. But not more than ten or so minutes of resisting the man purely on principle, Sasuke deigned to let himself be caught.