[ficlet] Seventeen: Haku/Zabuza
Seventeen
Naruto
Haku/Zabuza
NC-17
words 1739
Completely AU, in which the Gato event didn’t happen, and several years down the road. PWP, with character notes. Hopefully a humorous take on the ‘first time’ conceit, though some of it is rather graphic.
"I can resist everything except temptation."
Oscar Wilde.
***
The sweat’s just starting to cool on his skin, sticky and sharp, when Haku asks, no where near as breathlessly as he should be, “Is that it?”
Sleep-which is what he always does afterwards, unless he feels like more, or like a drink, or wants to murder something-becomes one of the last thing on Zabuza’s mind.
“What the fuck are you complaining about?” he growls into the pillow. “You were crying.”
Not that that he’d let that stop him-Haku had been after him for weeks for sex, for the real thing. He was old enough now, Haku had said, and since neither of them had some vile STD-thank god and condoms-there was no reason why they shouldn’t, it wasn’t like anything would change. After all the whining and bitching Zabuza’s put up with, he wasn’t about to stop because the brat had forgot about fucking size.
“I was not,” Haku complains in the darkness, and he’s three seconds from getting his ass kicked out of the bedroom and through the window. “I was just. You know. Expecting it to hurt. Not that I wanted it to, I just…thought it would.”
Now Zabuza’s awake. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but the lethargy in his bones turns alert. Jaguar-mode, Haku calls it, before getting smacked for addressing him with such juvenile shit.
“I dunno, sensei,” Haku murmurs another beat-worthy juvenile affectation, because Zabuza is his owner, not his teacher. “I just thought you’d be bigger.”
Sometimes, Zabuza wonders if he should investigate Haku’s suicidal tendencies. Most of the time he doesn’t give them another thought-Haku’s his lackey, not his son-but every now and again, Zabuza wonders if they’re one those…what were they called? Cries for help? Attention?
Whatever. The definite thing is that Haku is not only crying, but howling into the mattress and tearing at the sheets as Zabuza pounds his ass well into the next week.
Haku is, unfortunately, approaching (or arrived at, whichever) that point in a young man’s life when he is invincible and the world is ripe for the plucking. The fact that Haku has gotten absurdly good at the art of…persuasion, acting secretive and meek with a scholar’s demeanor that’s gotten them a steady line of lucrative gigs across the country, does little to discourage this.
Haku's svelte and silky appearance--and his awareness of it--is also of no help at all. The kid was gorgeous when he wasn't even of age, and it's quite gone to Haku's head.
The quiet that follows the sex is expected. The degree of wanton sluttiness Haku can achieve right before coming, moaning and writhing, is not.
Zabuza rolls over, and tries to go to sleep. Minutes go by, and it’s pleasant.
After a while the bed sheets rustle, and Zabuza is pulled on his back, Haku looming over him and not looking anywhere near wretched enough.
“I will snap your fucking neck.”
Haku’s mouth quirks-Zabuza’s been telling him that since he was seven, and the threat has tender connotations-before he straddles Zabuza’s waist, body wet and slippery where the kid should be rubbed raw and aching.
“Are you bleeding on me?” Zabuza wouldn’t put it past him, but it doesn’t feel like blood. Slick, not sticky. He’d put more oil on himself-not a bad idea, but not an enticing one either.
“Disgusting.”
“It’s not how you use, it Zabuza-sama,” Haku retorts, “It’s the size. Come on, old man, you should be at least good for another half hour.”
In retrospect, while Haku’s useful he is not, per se, necessary.
“Or should I be satisfied with another ten minutes?” Haku raises one eyebrow elegantly, mouth poised just so.
Again, Zabuza doesn’t answer-waiting out Haku has never been hard, and Zabuza has the patience of a mountain when it suits him. Haku hasn’t actually gotten dumb, just willful. Zabuza’s secretly hoping it’s a passing phase, like pimples.
Personally, Zabuza blames Haku’s cronies for the new, irritating facets to Haku’s character. The kids are always shit-talking gutterscum, all itching to be criminals without an iota of resolve or killer-instinct. Haku plays them like a harp.
“You promised,” Haku’s beseeching now.
“I compromised,” Zabuza remains stoic and tone-deaf. While Haku is certainly…persuasive, and it’s nice to run his fingers through his hair, Zabuza is always in control. If he says no, not even Haku can wheedle a boner out of him. “And I performed as agreed.”
Haku’s face falls. Good.
“Don’t you have whores for this?” Zabuza grumbles. The shits had to be good for something.
“I have associates, Zabuza-sama. You use whores. And if you’re this complacent during sex, it’s no wonder you have to pay them.” Haku crosses his arms disapprovingly, while being hair-trigger ready to run.
Surprisingly-though not really, Zabuza has gotten used to the surreal aspect of their working relationship-he isn’t angry. Not even a little, but he sits up slowly, so Haku won’t run. Zabuza slowly surveys the (technically) young man who isn’t all that much younger than Zabuza was when he’d found the kid on the street, waiting for death. Ironic how Zabuza had introduced him to so much of it.
Haku’s eight years younger than he is. Zabuza’s always thought that it should be more.
Zabuza thinks before he speaks-he usually does, not that it curbs his temper or language-and so prevents himself from asking why this is so important. Curiosity wasn’t the answer, and neither was validation.
No, it would be a mistake to ask, because Haku would tell the truth. Then he’d ask if Zabuza felt the same. Then, a dark part of Zabuza’s mind suggests, the boy would pester him until he said he did, then pester him some more until Haku thought Zabuza did, and it would never end.
Or the boy would realize what Zabuza has known for years. One of the two.
“Where’d you learn to talk like this?”
“Pornography,” Haku’s chin lifts, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Zabuza’s. No, Haku’s not a fool, but he believes he knows Zabuza-an incorrect assumption. Still moving slowly, Zabuza runs his fingers over Haku’s face, stroking the fine black hair he won’t let the kid grow past his waist.
Haku is, understandably, puzzled. Foreplay is not Zabuza’s policy, in any kind of arena.
“What kind?” Calloused fingers trail over Haku’s collarbone, down his chest.
“Er, um,” blood rushes and burns over the delicate features. “Sadomasochistic depravity as occurred during the Tasfu era in,” a sudden inhale interrupts Haku, as Zabuza pulls the crossed arms apart, his hand swallowing Haku’s wrist.
Even for a kid-Zabuza doesn’t think he’ll ever think of Haku as a man, not even when the kid has gray hair and arthritis-Haku has small bones. Haku natters on, “It’s somewhat graphic and-”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not--”
“You are,” Zabuza says flatly, before sucking and nibbling at Haku’s knuckles.
Zabuza has only slept with a handful of men, and rarely by choice, but he knows how to sell himself to them. If he needs to. Haku’s shell-shocked expression confirms this.
“What were you reading? The truth,” Zabuza adds, because he can always tell when Haku’s about to lie.
“I-it--”
Haku has long fingers, and Zabuza practices deep-throating with them as best he can, all while keeping his partner’s gaze. Haku isn’t quite breathing, and speaks in a rush.
“Fourteenth century romance of the Second Kingdom. Dance of the Sparrows.”
Zabuza isn’t familiar with it-reading the lines of dead men is for those waiting to die.
“They all die in the end,” Haku gets out between swallows. Zabuza bites what’s in his mouth gently, and Haku jumps.
“No shit.”
Fingers trace Haku’s abdomen, his bony hips.
“No sir.” A whisper; the kid’s moments away from creaming himself. Again. What was the point of Haku practicing with other kids his age if he’s still ready to blow at the slightest touch?
“So where’d you learn to talk like that?” Zabuza pulls Haku closer, not that it’s hard; he’s as flexible as a wet noodle right now.
“You, sir.” Haku leans forward, lips wet and plump and ready, so of course Zabuza pulls back.
He’s never kissed Haku before. He’s fairly sure there’s a good reason for that, though he’s never bothered to think on it.
“On your knees. As you are,” Zabuza notes the confusion, anger, and blinding lust. “On your knees.”
So, with Haku clawing and hanging off his shoulders, Zabuza…explores the milky thighs that lesser men have obsessed over, takes his time to probe and discover not only the places that make Haku howl, but the ones that make him beg, make him babble.
To be fair, Haku had a point-the first time around, Zabuza had done a shit job. He’d oiled up, stretched Haku to prevent bleeding, fucked, and been ready to call it a day. His normal modus operandi, because while Zabuza takes pleasure in sex, it’s not really an act he can say he enjoys, not anymore than eating or sleeping.
Now, as he guides Haku to sit on him, rock on him while Zabuza bites his nipples and kneads his spine, Zabuza’s grinning and happy as a pig in muck, because with the grip he’s got on the kid’s balls and cock there’s no way Haku’s going to get any satisfaction out of this-plenty of pleasure, but no satisfaction. At least, not until Zabuza says.
The kid’s still swearing at him and begging when Zabuza bends him over, facing away-his knees are going to be sore-but its not Zabuza’s cock or fingers the kid gets, and if he thought Haku could howl and squirm before…man, was he wrong.
“Anybody else do this to you?” Zabuza asks during a breather.
“You can’t, you can’t--”
“Anybody else,” his grip tightens and Haku keens, needy and willing and well-past ready, “do this to you?”
“Nn, no sir, no, ‘s dirty, it’s, you can’t-”
Zabuza’s tongue goes back to work, and Haku goes back to screaming himself hoarse.
By the time Zabuza gets around to seating Haku on his cock again-back to front this time, so Haku can’t claw him-Haku has vowed to murder Zabuza, rip off his genitals, and become his eternal sex-slave, more or less in that order.
Eventually, he lets Haku come.
***
Author’s Notes: So. My friend DJ relays to me some of the workings of the Naruto cardgame, and while I am re-enamored of the Sand clan and how fucking bad ass Gaara is, the Haku/Zabuza dynamic was simply too adorable not to compliment.
Naruto
Haku/Zabuza
NC-17
words 1739
Completely AU, in which the Gato event didn’t happen, and several years down the road. PWP, with character notes. Hopefully a humorous take on the ‘first time’ conceit, though some of it is rather graphic.
"I can resist everything except temptation."
Oscar Wilde.
***
The sweat’s just starting to cool on his skin, sticky and sharp, when Haku asks, no where near as breathlessly as he should be, “Is that it?”
Sleep-which is what he always does afterwards, unless he feels like more, or like a drink, or wants to murder something-becomes one of the last thing on Zabuza’s mind.
“What the fuck are you complaining about?” he growls into the pillow. “You were crying.”
Not that that he’d let that stop him-Haku had been after him for weeks for sex, for the real thing. He was old enough now, Haku had said, and since neither of them had some vile STD-thank god and condoms-there was no reason why they shouldn’t, it wasn’t like anything would change. After all the whining and bitching Zabuza’s put up with, he wasn’t about to stop because the brat had forgot about fucking size.
“I was not,” Haku complains in the darkness, and he’s three seconds from getting his ass kicked out of the bedroom and through the window. “I was just. You know. Expecting it to hurt. Not that I wanted it to, I just…thought it would.”
Now Zabuza’s awake. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but the lethargy in his bones turns alert. Jaguar-mode, Haku calls it, before getting smacked for addressing him with such juvenile shit.
“I dunno, sensei,” Haku murmurs another beat-worthy juvenile affectation, because Zabuza is his owner, not his teacher. “I just thought you’d be bigger.”
Sometimes, Zabuza wonders if he should investigate Haku’s suicidal tendencies. Most of the time he doesn’t give them another thought-Haku’s his lackey, not his son-but every now and again, Zabuza wonders if they’re one those…what were they called? Cries for help? Attention?
Whatever. The definite thing is that Haku is not only crying, but howling into the mattress and tearing at the sheets as Zabuza pounds his ass well into the next week.
Haku is, unfortunately, approaching (or arrived at, whichever) that point in a young man’s life when he is invincible and the world is ripe for the plucking. The fact that Haku has gotten absurdly good at the art of…persuasion, acting secretive and meek with a scholar’s demeanor that’s gotten them a steady line of lucrative gigs across the country, does little to discourage this.
Haku's svelte and silky appearance--and his awareness of it--is also of no help at all. The kid was gorgeous when he wasn't even of age, and it's quite gone to Haku's head.
The quiet that follows the sex is expected. The degree of wanton sluttiness Haku can achieve right before coming, moaning and writhing, is not.
Zabuza rolls over, and tries to go to sleep. Minutes go by, and it’s pleasant.
After a while the bed sheets rustle, and Zabuza is pulled on his back, Haku looming over him and not looking anywhere near wretched enough.
“I will snap your fucking neck.”
Haku’s mouth quirks-Zabuza’s been telling him that since he was seven, and the threat has tender connotations-before he straddles Zabuza’s waist, body wet and slippery where the kid should be rubbed raw and aching.
“Are you bleeding on me?” Zabuza wouldn’t put it past him, but it doesn’t feel like blood. Slick, not sticky. He’d put more oil on himself-not a bad idea, but not an enticing one either.
“Disgusting.”
“It’s not how you use, it Zabuza-sama,” Haku retorts, “It’s the size. Come on, old man, you should be at least good for another half hour.”
In retrospect, while Haku’s useful he is not, per se, necessary.
“Or should I be satisfied with another ten minutes?” Haku raises one eyebrow elegantly, mouth poised just so.
Again, Zabuza doesn’t answer-waiting out Haku has never been hard, and Zabuza has the patience of a mountain when it suits him. Haku hasn’t actually gotten dumb, just willful. Zabuza’s secretly hoping it’s a passing phase, like pimples.
Personally, Zabuza blames Haku’s cronies for the new, irritating facets to Haku’s character. The kids are always shit-talking gutterscum, all itching to be criminals without an iota of resolve or killer-instinct. Haku plays them like a harp.
“You promised,” Haku’s beseeching now.
“I compromised,” Zabuza remains stoic and tone-deaf. While Haku is certainly…persuasive, and it’s nice to run his fingers through his hair, Zabuza is always in control. If he says no, not even Haku can wheedle a boner out of him. “And I performed as agreed.”
Haku’s face falls. Good.
“Don’t you have whores for this?” Zabuza grumbles. The shits had to be good for something.
“I have associates, Zabuza-sama. You use whores. And if you’re this complacent during sex, it’s no wonder you have to pay them.” Haku crosses his arms disapprovingly, while being hair-trigger ready to run.
Surprisingly-though not really, Zabuza has gotten used to the surreal aspect of their working relationship-he isn’t angry. Not even a little, but he sits up slowly, so Haku won’t run. Zabuza slowly surveys the (technically) young man who isn’t all that much younger than Zabuza was when he’d found the kid on the street, waiting for death. Ironic how Zabuza had introduced him to so much of it.
Haku’s eight years younger than he is. Zabuza’s always thought that it should be more.
Zabuza thinks before he speaks-he usually does, not that it curbs his temper or language-and so prevents himself from asking why this is so important. Curiosity wasn’t the answer, and neither was validation.
No, it would be a mistake to ask, because Haku would tell the truth. Then he’d ask if Zabuza felt the same. Then, a dark part of Zabuza’s mind suggests, the boy would pester him until he said he did, then pester him some more until Haku thought Zabuza did, and it would never end.
Or the boy would realize what Zabuza has known for years. One of the two.
“Where’d you learn to talk like this?”
“Pornography,” Haku’s chin lifts, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Zabuza’s. No, Haku’s not a fool, but he believes he knows Zabuza-an incorrect assumption. Still moving slowly, Zabuza runs his fingers over Haku’s face, stroking the fine black hair he won’t let the kid grow past his waist.
Haku is, understandably, puzzled. Foreplay is not Zabuza’s policy, in any kind of arena.
“What kind?” Calloused fingers trail over Haku’s collarbone, down his chest.
“Er, um,” blood rushes and burns over the delicate features. “Sadomasochistic depravity as occurred during the Tasfu era in,” a sudden inhale interrupts Haku, as Zabuza pulls the crossed arms apart, his hand swallowing Haku’s wrist.
Even for a kid-Zabuza doesn’t think he’ll ever think of Haku as a man, not even when the kid has gray hair and arthritis-Haku has small bones. Haku natters on, “It’s somewhat graphic and-”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not--”
“You are,” Zabuza says flatly, before sucking and nibbling at Haku’s knuckles.
Zabuza has only slept with a handful of men, and rarely by choice, but he knows how to sell himself to them. If he needs to. Haku’s shell-shocked expression confirms this.
“What were you reading? The truth,” Zabuza adds, because he can always tell when Haku’s about to lie.
“I-it--”
Haku has long fingers, and Zabuza practices deep-throating with them as best he can, all while keeping his partner’s gaze. Haku isn’t quite breathing, and speaks in a rush.
“Fourteenth century romance of the Second Kingdom. Dance of the Sparrows.”
Zabuza isn’t familiar with it-reading the lines of dead men is for those waiting to die.
“They all die in the end,” Haku gets out between swallows. Zabuza bites what’s in his mouth gently, and Haku jumps.
“No shit.”
Fingers trace Haku’s abdomen, his bony hips.
“No sir.” A whisper; the kid’s moments away from creaming himself. Again. What was the point of Haku practicing with other kids his age if he’s still ready to blow at the slightest touch?
“So where’d you learn to talk like that?” Zabuza pulls Haku closer, not that it’s hard; he’s as flexible as a wet noodle right now.
“You, sir.” Haku leans forward, lips wet and plump and ready, so of course Zabuza pulls back.
He’s never kissed Haku before. He’s fairly sure there’s a good reason for that, though he’s never bothered to think on it.
“On your knees. As you are,” Zabuza notes the confusion, anger, and blinding lust. “On your knees.”
So, with Haku clawing and hanging off his shoulders, Zabuza…explores the milky thighs that lesser men have obsessed over, takes his time to probe and discover not only the places that make Haku howl, but the ones that make him beg, make him babble.
To be fair, Haku had a point-the first time around, Zabuza had done a shit job. He’d oiled up, stretched Haku to prevent bleeding, fucked, and been ready to call it a day. His normal modus operandi, because while Zabuza takes pleasure in sex, it’s not really an act he can say he enjoys, not anymore than eating or sleeping.
Now, as he guides Haku to sit on him, rock on him while Zabuza bites his nipples and kneads his spine, Zabuza’s grinning and happy as a pig in muck, because with the grip he’s got on the kid’s balls and cock there’s no way Haku’s going to get any satisfaction out of this-plenty of pleasure, but no satisfaction. At least, not until Zabuza says.
The kid’s still swearing at him and begging when Zabuza bends him over, facing away-his knees are going to be sore-but its not Zabuza’s cock or fingers the kid gets, and if he thought Haku could howl and squirm before…man, was he wrong.
“Anybody else do this to you?” Zabuza asks during a breather.
“You can’t, you can’t--”
“Anybody else,” his grip tightens and Haku keens, needy and willing and well-past ready, “do this to you?”
“Nn, no sir, no, ‘s dirty, it’s, you can’t-”
Zabuza’s tongue goes back to work, and Haku goes back to screaming himself hoarse.
By the time Zabuza gets around to seating Haku on his cock again-back to front this time, so Haku can’t claw him-Haku has vowed to murder Zabuza, rip off his genitals, and become his eternal sex-slave, more or less in that order.
Eventually, he lets Haku come.
***
Author’s Notes: So. My friend DJ relays to me some of the workings of the Naruto cardgame, and while I am re-enamored of the Sand clan and how fucking bad ass Gaara is, the Haku/Zabuza dynamic was simply too adorable not to compliment.