Denial is a River; Dreams are Boats
Title: Denial is a River; Dreams are Boats
Author: Hiruma Musouka (prismdropz)
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Kakashi ; (non-established) Naruto/Kakashi
Word Count: 1,155
Notes: I can't quite believe that the first thing I've written in practically forever ends up being ... well, not quite porn, and not quite PWP, but certainly close to it. Honestly, all my favorite ideas are stuff involving plot and characterization and complicated events, and yet, every single thing I've got posted here was something I started writing on a whim and finished all in one go. Generally at a time of night where I should be damn well sleeping.
I should probably be more embarassed about this, but... nope. Can't quite care.
That being said: FOR MATURE READERS ONLY!!! (I warned you, don't complain.)
Summary: Kakashi is an expert at looking underneath the underneath and is very self-aware. Neither of which automatically means he likes what he finds or has any intention of acting on it.
Trickles of sweat slide down his neck. Muscles spasm involuntarily as electric shivers race up his spine. He grits his teeth behind closed lips to keep a desperate keen from escaping.
A deep chuckle…
A twisting thrust…
A teasing nip to the side of his neck, and it all falls to pieces. Kakashi can feel his eyes rolling back and tries to keep focused on the man above him. It’s a losing battle. A lost battle, actually, since the moment he let not-unfamiliar hands undress him.
His own hands clench around thin air.
Legs tighten around a toned and muscled waist - desperate to get more friction, more thrust, more everything…
His throat can’t seem to produce anything more than keening whines, breathy hitches, and wanton moans, let alone a coherent request for the man above to stop. Not that the jounin wants it to stop, but he wants to want it. Wants to stop wanting it. Should want to stop. Should want… want…
“Yessss…,” a lust-deepened voice purrs. “You can have it. Can have all of it. Just ask… ohfuckyes…that! That sound… again, do it again…”
What? Kakashi might oblige if he had the least idea wh-
A back and a head covered in silver hair arches abruptly as the slightest hint of foreign chakra darts around inside him. Every
nerve lights up like a weapons shop set alight as wrecked, incoherent begging tumbles out into the air. It never even occurs to Kakashi that the pleading is from his own throat. He is too busy writhing and trying to bring his arms up to cling to his lover, his friend, his…
A hand on his ass and thigh cuts off the thought as he is lifted up and into every stroke. Lips return to his neck, sucking fiercely and biting gently at the exact same spot they had been at earlier. The pleasurably pain suggests there will be a dark hickie there in the future, and the primal implications just drive Kakashi hotter and higher as his blood runs south. Let the man do what he wants. Let him leave marks. He already owns the former ANBU’s regard, affection, loyalty and soul. What does a body matter? All Kakashi wants in return is… is…
A slow, tingling withdrawal makes him ache with emptiness and lust, breath catching. Calloused hands grip his hips with bruising tightness. His ass spasms greedily around the retreating member. A hot, wet tongue drags down his sternum. Swirls around nipples.
His wrists and hands ache as he jerks his arms forward. Silk digs lightly into skin and the flesh between his fingers, restricting all movement.
To think that Kakashi had sat still for that. Had stared dazedly as smoky blue eyes locked on his. As lips tilted suggestively. As smoothness slipped over and between and around his hands. A shinobi’s first and last tool for defense.
He hadn’t even worried about it.
Hadn’t thought anything about being gently pushed down as a nude body slithered over him. As nimble fingers wrapped silk around a bed frame. As a hot, firm, young (god, so young) body ground down into his torso sending a musky, intoxicating smell floating up.
The silk down below is even more frustrating. More impeding.
‘Cockblock’ indeed.
A soft whine escapes unbidden as his lover separates completely, ignoring the legs around him. A dirty chuckle emerges when Kakashi abandons any pretense of pride or self-control to try jerking the man back. A soothing thumb rubs absently at his inner thigh, and for some stupidly embarrassing reason, this makes his throat hitch where nothing else had. Makes the lustful eyes seem fond in ways the Copy-Ninja is entirely too old and experienced to believe in.
But that is an ability Naruto has based his entire life on it seems.
And Kakashi has always been shit at giving things up once they are under his skin.
Gentle hands firmly spread toned thighs as far as they will go, feet placed underneath for future leverage. The golden skin looks especially vivid next to such a fair skin tone, and for a moment, it appears the teen intended to just look his fill. To just stare unimpeded with darkened eyes at his teacher splayed naked and open for his enjoyment. To study where legs met body, where muscles stretched taunt under light-colored skin, where… where Kakashi’s hole twitches and spasms around the emptiness, skin red and tender, leaking precum and lube down the contours of his body.
The jounin looks away, face bare and heart stuck on his sleeve and in his throat. He wishes his tongue would cooperate with saying something.
He wishes he had a damn idea what to say.
“Stay like that…,” the whisper was barely audible. The blond scoots closer on his knees, posture more upright instead of crouching over, hands placed confidently on willing thighs as a thick velvety head bumps and rubs against sensitive skin, spreading fluid. “Stay just there, Kakashi. I want to see everything.”
A thick moan as intimate flesh is spread wide once more, greedy eyes watching proprietarily while the jounin’s own eyes flutter closed, a blush rising unnoticed to his cheeks.
It is so… so bizarre to be treated like this. Like something craved and coveted. If a fuck-buddy was here, then Kakashi would have already screwed them or had his fun another way. He wouldn’t be wondering if that vein in Naruto’s cock is really where he thinks it is.
The agonizingly slow entry is coupled with a finishing thrust so abruptly strong that Kakashi is honestly wondering if he’ll get rug burns from sheets. The blond shifts into a fierce varying rhythm before-
“CAW!!!”
Kakashi jerked awake, breath catching in his throat and making him choke.
For one perfect, disorienting moment, he didn’t know what was happening. Then as the presence of morning light and a blanket over him registered in his mind, both his eyes fell shut in resignation. He kept them shut for just a moment longer, to pretend that his room wasn’t empty and hadn’t been that way for years. Just long enough for the water to clear from his natural eye.
And for him to notice one other fact.
“CAW!!” the messenger bird screeched again outside his window. Kakashi ignored it, embarrassment and a deep, black feeling of shame welling up inside.
Carefully repressing the memories of the recent dream, Kakashi painfully moved his arms from their resting place above his head. Hands on his chest and fingers digging bruises into his own skin, Kakashi turned his face to the side.
Eyes clenched and face burning in humiliation, he lowered his knees to the mattress and closed his legs from where they had been splayed widen open and wanting.
The bird cocked its head, talon held out impatiently with a black scroll attached.
“Hell,” Kakashi gritted out, ruthlessly suppressing a non-existent sob.
“I fucking hate mornings.”
Author: Hiruma Musouka (prismdropz)
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Kakashi ; (non-established) Naruto/Kakashi
Word Count: 1,155
Notes: I can't quite believe that the first thing I've written in practically forever ends up being ... well, not quite porn, and not quite PWP, but certainly close to it. Honestly, all my favorite ideas are stuff involving plot and characterization and complicated events, and yet, every single thing I've got posted here was something I started writing on a whim and finished all in one go. Generally at a time of night where I should be damn well sleeping.
I should probably be more embarassed about this, but... nope. Can't quite care.
That being said: FOR MATURE READERS ONLY!!! (I warned you, don't complain.)
Summary: Kakashi is an expert at looking underneath the underneath and is very self-aware. Neither of which automatically means he likes what he finds or has any intention of acting on it.
Trickles of sweat slide down his neck. Muscles spasm involuntarily as electric shivers race up his spine. He grits his teeth behind closed lips to keep a desperate keen from escaping.
A deep chuckle…
A twisting thrust…
A teasing nip to the side of his neck, and it all falls to pieces. Kakashi can feel his eyes rolling back and tries to keep focused on the man above him. It’s a losing battle. A lost battle, actually, since the moment he let not-unfamiliar hands undress him.
His own hands clench around thin air.
Legs tighten around a toned and muscled waist - desperate to get more friction, more thrust, more everything…
His throat can’t seem to produce anything more than keening whines, breathy hitches, and wanton moans, let alone a coherent request for the man above to stop. Not that the jounin wants it to stop, but he wants to want it. Wants to stop wanting it. Should want to stop. Should want… want…
“Yessss…,” a lust-deepened voice purrs. “You can have it. Can have all of it. Just ask… ohfuckyes…that! That sound… again, do it again…”
What? Kakashi might oblige if he had the least idea wh-
A back and a head covered in silver hair arches abruptly as the slightest hint of foreign chakra darts around inside him. Every
nerve lights up like a weapons shop set alight as wrecked, incoherent begging tumbles out into the air. It never even occurs to Kakashi that the pleading is from his own throat. He is too busy writhing and trying to bring his arms up to cling to his lover, his friend, his…
A hand on his ass and thigh cuts off the thought as he is lifted up and into every stroke. Lips return to his neck, sucking fiercely and biting gently at the exact same spot they had been at earlier. The pleasurably pain suggests there will be a dark hickie there in the future, and the primal implications just drive Kakashi hotter and higher as his blood runs south. Let the man do what he wants. Let him leave marks. He already owns the former ANBU’s regard, affection, loyalty and soul. What does a body matter? All Kakashi wants in return is… is…
A slow, tingling withdrawal makes him ache with emptiness and lust, breath catching. Calloused hands grip his hips with bruising tightness. His ass spasms greedily around the retreating member. A hot, wet tongue drags down his sternum. Swirls around nipples.
His wrists and hands ache as he jerks his arms forward. Silk digs lightly into skin and the flesh between his fingers, restricting all movement.
To think that Kakashi had sat still for that. Had stared dazedly as smoky blue eyes locked on his. As lips tilted suggestively. As smoothness slipped over and between and around his hands. A shinobi’s first and last tool for defense.
He hadn’t even worried about it.
Hadn’t thought anything about being gently pushed down as a nude body slithered over him. As nimble fingers wrapped silk around a bed frame. As a hot, firm, young (god, so young) body ground down into his torso sending a musky, intoxicating smell floating up.
The silk down below is even more frustrating. More impeding.
‘Cockblock’ indeed.
A soft whine escapes unbidden as his lover separates completely, ignoring the legs around him. A dirty chuckle emerges when Kakashi abandons any pretense of pride or self-control to try jerking the man back. A soothing thumb rubs absently at his inner thigh, and for some stupidly embarrassing reason, this makes his throat hitch where nothing else had. Makes the lustful eyes seem fond in ways the Copy-Ninja is entirely too old and experienced to believe in.
But that is an ability Naruto has based his entire life on it seems.
And Kakashi has always been shit at giving things up once they are under his skin.
Gentle hands firmly spread toned thighs as far as they will go, feet placed underneath for future leverage. The golden skin looks especially vivid next to such a fair skin tone, and for a moment, it appears the teen intended to just look his fill. To just stare unimpeded with darkened eyes at his teacher splayed naked and open for his enjoyment. To study where legs met body, where muscles stretched taunt under light-colored skin, where… where Kakashi’s hole twitches and spasms around the emptiness, skin red and tender, leaking precum and lube down the contours of his body.
The jounin looks away, face bare and heart stuck on his sleeve and in his throat. He wishes his tongue would cooperate with saying something.
He wishes he had a damn idea what to say.
“Stay like that…,” the whisper was barely audible. The blond scoots closer on his knees, posture more upright instead of crouching over, hands placed confidently on willing thighs as a thick velvety head bumps and rubs against sensitive skin, spreading fluid. “Stay just there, Kakashi. I want to see everything.”
A thick moan as intimate flesh is spread wide once more, greedy eyes watching proprietarily while the jounin’s own eyes flutter closed, a blush rising unnoticed to his cheeks.
It is so… so bizarre to be treated like this. Like something craved and coveted. If a fuck-buddy was here, then Kakashi would have already screwed them or had his fun another way. He wouldn’t be wondering if that vein in Naruto’s cock is really where he thinks it is.
The agonizingly slow entry is coupled with a finishing thrust so abruptly strong that Kakashi is honestly wondering if he’ll get rug burns from sheets. The blond shifts into a fierce varying rhythm before-
“CAW!!!”
Kakashi jerked awake, breath catching in his throat and making him choke.
For one perfect, disorienting moment, he didn’t know what was happening. Then as the presence of morning light and a blanket over him registered in his mind, both his eyes fell shut in resignation. He kept them shut for just a moment longer, to pretend that his room wasn’t empty and hadn’t been that way for years. Just long enough for the water to clear from his natural eye.
And for him to notice one other fact.
“CAW!!” the messenger bird screeched again outside his window. Kakashi ignored it, embarrassment and a deep, black feeling of shame welling up inside.
Carefully repressing the memories of the recent dream, Kakashi painfully moved his arms from their resting place above his head. Hands on his chest and fingers digging bruises into his own skin, Kakashi turned his face to the side.
Eyes clenched and face burning in humiliation, he lowered his knees to the mattress and closed his legs from where they had been splayed widen open and wanting.
The bird cocked its head, talon held out impatiently with a black scroll attached.
“Hell,” Kakashi gritted out, ruthlessly suppressing a non-existent sob.
“I fucking hate mornings.”