fan-fanfic [drabble] Office Party -- Kakashi/Shisui wtf
...."It was none other than Anko’s partner, Hatake Kakashi, he of the That Time At The Christmas Party and That Other Time By The Water Cooler fame."
Title: Office Party
Rating: PG-13
A/N: this is fan-fanfic that comes from SPLASH by ronsard, but shock! it is not Ita/Shi. It is Kakashi/Shisui, a pairing so hot you might get burned, and I might have slaughtered. Who knows.
...fan-fanfic? really self, really?
Christmas has a high incidence of homicide. Perhaps the effusion of forced holiday cheer brings out matrimonial strife; or perhaps the stress of present-buying and finances causes people to tip into the murderous territory. Perhaps it’s the cold and the short days. But people die, and Christmas adds layers of injustice to the whole affair. Dying at Christmastime? How embarrassing.
Whatever it is, Shisui hates it all violently. He can feel stress between his shoulders building, forecasting a terrible slurry of lust and miserable self-loathing. He hates the bells, the jangles, the bunt cakes and evergreens and sparkly angels and Hallmark-polluted crap.
Itachi is lost in a tangle of family messes so convoluted Shisui cannot begin to decipher it. Shisui would go to him for help with this problem; this miserly view of Christmas, but he feels bad even contemplating it. Itachi is bowed under the weight of enough expectations as it is. Shisui can’t bring himself to add more.
So Shisui slumps against the wall of the office Christmas party feeling like the sore thumb, the odd man out, unable to appreciate all the fucking joy this holiday is supposed to represent, when his job is eating at his soul slowly but surely. Fuck the spirit of the season, he’s going to drown himself in alcohol. This is his default plan for a reason, because it’s a good plan, dammit.
Kakashi lounges with the kind of sensual indolence that can’t be learned- it’s a very particular trait, a uniquely-Kakashi laziness that springs from his bones, and then reaches outward-it says Relax. Just relax, let me take care of you- Shisui should not be undone by slouching-dear god, what’s wrong with him?-but something in the movement suggests ravishing. Suggests playful lust. It’s staggering.
He is probably alone in this suspicion, though. No one else has ever appeared to get this vibe.
“Shisui-kun. You don’t look good,” Kakashi states as he comes to stand next to Shisui.
“I’m fine. I love this holiday,” Shisui croaks. Kakashi levels him a look of powerful disbelief.
“The holidays can be stressful,” Kakashi notes serenely, “but you’re talented and smart, you know,” as if no one has ever said this to Shisui before. Shisui is flattered anyway, though, because it's Kakashi.
Shisui sighs. “Why do you come to these parties? To laugh at all the poor office mingling attempts?” There he goes again, being bitter.
“I come here to bully younger colleagues into telling me what’s bothering them. Spit it out.” And Shisui decides to take the plunge, something about the caring but lurid gleam in Kakashi’s eye.
“…..I have a problem assuaging my disintegrating faith in humanity with meaningless one-night stands.” There. Said it. Threw it out there like it’s not the starkest truth he ever uttered-
Kakashi merely tilts his head to the side like a cat. “Well that’s new,” he remarks. “But not entirely unexpected in this profession,” he adds as an afterthought.
“And-and- that’s not even the worst of it!” Shisui sputters. “I keeping doing it! Every fucking time, excuse me- this is a problem that isn’t going away-”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a filthy whore, Shisui-kun,” Kakashi says matter-of-factly, calm and appraising, like he is discussing the stock market.
Kakashi would know, Shisui supposes. It is then that Shisui notices Kakashi’s sleek black top that does nothing to hide the ripple of muscles underneath, the catlike grace of his limbs, and kicks himself. Irony, his inner voice whispers, someday you will die from an overdose of righteous, poetic irony, because look where your thoughts just jumped. Again.
“Oh look,” Kakashi points up in a very staged way. “Mistletoe.” Call him a romantic, call him a sucker, but never let it be said Shisui missed a sign when it was gift-wrapped and placed on his doorstep. Call him a tramp, too, and Shisui would agree with you, but that’s missing the point.
Kakashi slides fingers against Shisui’s jaw, the gentlest of touches, and Shisui quivers fit to burst. Kakashi moves his fingers ever so slightly, directing, and Shisui moves like a dancer on cue, takes a step back in response to some impossibly subtle pressure/movement of fingers. Shisui backs himself up until he feels his back hit the wall as if it’s happening to someone else. His brain cells are short-circuiting.
Kakashi slides their lips together in a liquid rush.
It’s electric! Boogie woogie woogie!
...Stop it, brain.
Shisui was converted. He’d never mock Christmas again, bless the mistletoe, every one- er, wait.
The other man leans in close, creating a stillness, perhaps the sort before a storm, or impending doom. “…I’m going to fuck you into oblivion,” Kakashi breathes into his ear. Shisui jolts at the way his body reacts, a fish flopping helplessly on a line, shuddering so hard he is glad they are in a corner and there are lots of potted plants around.
To prove his point, as if he needed to, Kakashi palms his crotch and squeezes mercilessly. Shisui gapes at him, trying to tamper down his already ragged breathing. Someone could venture around those potted plants at any moment!
Then Kakashi laughs and pats him on the shoulder. “Do come get me when you’re ready to leave this party,” and he turns, leaving Shisui horribly turned on but better about the whole humanity thing.
Title: Office Party
Rating: PG-13
A/N: this is fan-fanfic that comes from SPLASH by ronsard, but shock! it is not Ita/Shi. It is Kakashi/Shisui, a pairing so hot you might get burned, and I might have slaughtered. Who knows.
...fan-fanfic? really self, really?
Christmas has a high incidence of homicide. Perhaps the effusion of forced holiday cheer brings out matrimonial strife; or perhaps the stress of present-buying and finances causes people to tip into the murderous territory. Perhaps it’s the cold and the short days. But people die, and Christmas adds layers of injustice to the whole affair. Dying at Christmastime? How embarrassing.
Whatever it is, Shisui hates it all violently. He can feel stress between his shoulders building, forecasting a terrible slurry of lust and miserable self-loathing. He hates the bells, the jangles, the bunt cakes and evergreens and sparkly angels and Hallmark-polluted crap.
Itachi is lost in a tangle of family messes so convoluted Shisui cannot begin to decipher it. Shisui would go to him for help with this problem; this miserly view of Christmas, but he feels bad even contemplating it. Itachi is bowed under the weight of enough expectations as it is. Shisui can’t bring himself to add more.
So Shisui slumps against the wall of the office Christmas party feeling like the sore thumb, the odd man out, unable to appreciate all the fucking joy this holiday is supposed to represent, when his job is eating at his soul slowly but surely. Fuck the spirit of the season, he’s going to drown himself in alcohol. This is his default plan for a reason, because it’s a good plan, dammit.
Kakashi lounges with the kind of sensual indolence that can’t be learned- it’s a very particular trait, a uniquely-Kakashi laziness that springs from his bones, and then reaches outward-it says Relax. Just relax, let me take care of you- Shisui should not be undone by slouching-dear god, what’s wrong with him?-but something in the movement suggests ravishing. Suggests playful lust. It’s staggering.
He is probably alone in this suspicion, though. No one else has ever appeared to get this vibe.
“Shisui-kun. You don’t look good,” Kakashi states as he comes to stand next to Shisui.
“I’m fine. I love this holiday,” Shisui croaks. Kakashi levels him a look of powerful disbelief.
“The holidays can be stressful,” Kakashi notes serenely, “but you’re talented and smart, you know,” as if no one has ever said this to Shisui before. Shisui is flattered anyway, though, because it's Kakashi.
Shisui sighs. “Why do you come to these parties? To laugh at all the poor office mingling attempts?” There he goes again, being bitter.
“I come here to bully younger colleagues into telling me what’s bothering them. Spit it out.” And Shisui decides to take the plunge, something about the caring but lurid gleam in Kakashi’s eye.
“…..I have a problem assuaging my disintegrating faith in humanity with meaningless one-night stands.” There. Said it. Threw it out there like it’s not the starkest truth he ever uttered-
Kakashi merely tilts his head to the side like a cat. “Well that’s new,” he remarks. “But not entirely unexpected in this profession,” he adds as an afterthought.
“And-and- that’s not even the worst of it!” Shisui sputters. “I keeping doing it! Every fucking time, excuse me- this is a problem that isn’t going away-”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a filthy whore, Shisui-kun,” Kakashi says matter-of-factly, calm and appraising, like he is discussing the stock market.
Kakashi would know, Shisui supposes. It is then that Shisui notices Kakashi’s sleek black top that does nothing to hide the ripple of muscles underneath, the catlike grace of his limbs, and kicks himself. Irony, his inner voice whispers, someday you will die from an overdose of righteous, poetic irony, because look where your thoughts just jumped. Again.
“Oh look,” Kakashi points up in a very staged way. “Mistletoe.” Call him a romantic, call him a sucker, but never let it be said Shisui missed a sign when it was gift-wrapped and placed on his doorstep. Call him a tramp, too, and Shisui would agree with you, but that’s missing the point.
Kakashi slides fingers against Shisui’s jaw, the gentlest of touches, and Shisui quivers fit to burst. Kakashi moves his fingers ever so slightly, directing, and Shisui moves like a dancer on cue, takes a step back in response to some impossibly subtle pressure/movement of fingers. Shisui backs himself up until he feels his back hit the wall as if it’s happening to someone else. His brain cells are short-circuiting.
Kakashi slides their lips together in a liquid rush.
It’s electric! Boogie woogie woogie!
...Stop it, brain.
Shisui was converted. He’d never mock Christmas again, bless the mistletoe, every one- er, wait.
The other man leans in close, creating a stillness, perhaps the sort before a storm, or impending doom. “…I’m going to fuck you into oblivion,” Kakashi breathes into his ear. Shisui jolts at the way his body reacts, a fish flopping helplessly on a line, shuddering so hard he is glad they are in a corner and there are lots of potted plants around.
To prove his point, as if he needed to, Kakashi palms his crotch and squeezes mercilessly. Shisui gapes at him, trying to tamper down his already ragged breathing. Someone could venture around those potted plants at any moment!
Then Kakashi laughs and pats him on the shoulder. “Do come get me when you’re ready to leave this party,” and he turns, leaving Shisui horribly turned on but better about the whole humanity thing.