Fic: Sin
Title: Sinner
Summary: Minato notices something about Kakashi.
Rating: mmm, light R? For sexual imagery.
A/N: just a quick, fairly rough drabble I wrote after listening to too much Cursive. Also, I wanted to write something devoid of angst, ‘cause I’ve been torturing poor Kakashi a lot lately. *pets*
Kakashi was a sin, Minato decided. It was the way he moaned Minato’s name, right in his ear when he came, voice low, hoarse and rough around the edges with just a hint of a gasp.
It was the sheen of sweat that covered his body, either from training or when Minato was buried in the younger man to the hilt. His skin was so pale that it glistened in the light, the scars merely highlighting the hard planes of his body. His skin shouldn’t feel the soft, that silky.
It was the way his muscles shifted under the thin velvet covering of his skin, lean, powerful.
It was the taste of his skin; hot, electric, like the air a split second before lightning strikes.
It was that mouth, that searing, wet heat that made any thought that Minato might have fly right out of his head.
Long ago, Minato had reconciled the fact that he was a sinner.
Summary: Minato notices something about Kakashi.
Rating: mmm, light R? For sexual imagery.
A/N: just a quick, fairly rough drabble I wrote after listening to too much Cursive. Also, I wanted to write something devoid of angst, ‘cause I’ve been torturing poor Kakashi a lot lately. *pets*
Kakashi was a sin, Minato decided. It was the way he moaned Minato’s name, right in his ear when he came, voice low, hoarse and rough around the edges with just a hint of a gasp.
It was the sheen of sweat that covered his body, either from training or when Minato was buried in the younger man to the hilt. His skin was so pale that it glistened in the light, the scars merely highlighting the hard planes of his body. His skin shouldn’t feel the soft, that silky.
It was the way his muscles shifted under the thin velvet covering of his skin, lean, powerful.
It was the taste of his skin; hot, electric, like the air a split second before lightning strikes.
It was that mouth, that searing, wet heat that made any thought that Minato might have fly right out of his head.
Long ago, Minato had reconciled the fact that he was a sinner.