Kakairu Fest Autumn Drabbles Round - Level Chidori
General Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, not making money.
Title: Barrier
Author: waltzingstar
Rating: Ummm a bit NC-17ish
Word Count: 496
Prompt: Kakashi is a covert ops spy protecting Iruka, but they don't speak the same language.
A/N: Really super quick - merci beaucoup, ma cherie weezeuse, who helped me with the dirty talk, and did NOT laugh at me when I asked her to talk dirty to me in French. Je t'adore! <3
If Kakashi had any doubts about the assignment before he accepted it, he was choking on his dubiety now. To begin with, the man he’d been commissioned to protect was nothing short of stunning.
Glossy brown hair was tugged into a messy chignon that sat low on his head, framing large, dark eyes and a full pair of lips that coyly wrapped around the straw he’d requested for his beverage. Kakashi had had to blink a few times to tear his gaze away from Iruka as he sucked on the thing innocently; a schoolgirl with her lolly.
“I thank you for your service, Kakashi-san,” he said finally, the little translator on the choker he wore making a mockery of his voice. “My father and I have enjoyed your country immensely.”
Kakashi raised his sake to his lips, taking a moment to gently lift his mask before drinking. He set his cup back onto the table between them. “I hope that your father will see fit to return to Japan for future visits.”
An enigmatic smile played at Umino Iruka’s lips, making the scar that sliced through his nose seem somehow more pronounced. “Perhaps. Now, if you don’t mind, I'd like to retire to my room. I'm in sore need of a bed."
“I’ll escort you, Iruka-sama.”
Quietly, they made their way to Iruka’s suite, Kakashi trying not to gape at his client’s ass as he keyed open the door and stepped aside for Kakashi to enter.
A quick search of the place told him what he already knew; there were no intruders, and nothing was amiss. Nothing except the glittering of Iruka’s eyes in the dimly lit entryway when Kakashi returned to bid him goodnight.
“Tu me rends dingue,” he growled impatiently, shoving Kakashi against the wall to pry open the buttons of his shirt. Kakashi tried to spin away, but tanned fingers followed, tugging at his black silk tie until it fell uselessly to the floor. Iruka's gaze was smouldering, his voice thick with lust when he said, “Baise-moi.”
“I don’t understand, could you please put back on your-” Kakashi was silenced with a kiss, the hard press of teeth against his lower lip coaxing his mouth open. For a moment he was dragged under, swept away by the hands that wound into his hair, blunt fingernails scratching softly at his scalp while a hot tongue wrapped around his own.
“Je veux te sucer,” Iruka whispered, hands sliding into Kakashi’s shirt to tease hard nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Slowly, Iruka sank to his knees, eyes locked on Kakashi’s face while he mouthed at his cock through the fabric of his pants.
“Fuck,” Kakashi whispered, all his good intentions smashed to nothing by those lips.
“Oui,” Iruka purred, tugging down Kakashi’s zipper and gripping his cock. Gently, he rubbed his cheek against the length of it, the leaking tip leaving a silver track over the line of his jaw. “Oui.”
A/N: Iruka is saying: "You're driving me crazy," "Fuck me," "I want to suck you," and "Yes, yes."
Title: The Bionic Man
Author: waltzingstar
Rating: PG
Word Count: 512 (well, I tried)
Prompt: Iruka runs a bar in the wild wild west. Kakashi is a gunslinger looking for the man who killed his mentor.
Kakashi pushed the button on Biscuit, watched as the red lights of his eyes flickered and faded to a dull gray. He patted the tin of the horse’s neck, long past caring what people thought of his attachment to the machine.
Around him, the street stood still, the hologram that sheathed the town in obscurity winking occasionally and giving him peeks of what lay beneath. Feigning interest in a dent on Biscuit’s hide, Kakashi scanned the area, watching for the telltale rift in the illusion.
There.
Quickly, he reached a gloved hand to the brass monocle over his eye, tapped a sequence that had it zooming in on a little box which appeared to float in midair.
“Gotcha.” In a flash his arm was up, his four barrel Derringer protruding from the depths of his dust covered trench coat. Shots rang out into the heat blanched sky.
Like a curtain the mirage dropped, the ghost town he’d been standing in swallowed whole by thriving businesses and bawdy, flashing lights. Carriages being towed by models ranging from the earliest rendition of the Horse to the most recent prototype ambled by him, their passengers seemingly oblivious to his arrival.
He shook his head in disbelief, a bark of laughter lifting the handkerchief that covered his face. If he’d had to bet, he’d place everything he owned on the notion that the civilians had invested in a Uchiha Genjutsu forcefield - it was the only explanation for how complete the illusion had felt.
And if there was an Uchiha to be found in this town, then he was definitely on the right track.
Grinning, Kakashi glanced around, noting the storefronts. A bank, pawn shop, and strange looking window with a sign that merely read “Specialty,” marched down one side of the street, while on the other huddled a general store, newspaper office, and a saloon. Tugging his hat down, Kakashi decided to go with the saloon, which seemed as good a place to start as any.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d pushed through the doors of The Rusted Dolphin, but it wasn’t the rouge, velvet covered walls, or the piano playing a raucous number that seemed to shake the cogs of the Card Dealer, whose battery was in sore need of replacement. He certainly wasn’t prepared for the motley assortment of customers, both civilian and mechanical, or the scarred kid with shotguns longer than his arms yelling while standing on a table in the corner of the room.
But mostly, he wasn’t expecting to see those brown eyes from years ago, widened in shock as they seemed to drink him in. With a deep breath, Kakashi trudged toward the bar, his stomach jolting with every clomp of his boots until he came to a stop in front of the bartender, whose marred face he never thought he’d live to see again.
“Hatake Kakashi,” said Iruka, his bionic arm tightening around the shotglass he held until it burst into shards that hit Kakashi like an accusation. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Title: Leader of the Pack
Author: waltzingstar
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300
Prompt: Iruka is a reporter covering the Iditarod and he wants to know what it's like. Grudgingly, Kakashi offers to take him for a short run.
“Pakkun is the mascot,” Kakashi says fondly, and Iruka wonders if Kakashi’s aware of the snowflakes caught in his thick, dark lashes. His cheeks are stained red by the cold, and not even the ski mask that covers half his face can keep his breath from escaping in thin, white puffs as he speaks. “Bull, Akina, and Ūhei are the most powerful, and also the most dominant. I have to disperse them throughout the pack or they’ll try to outdo each other.”
Iruka steps closer to Kakashi to see which dog he’s gesturing at, only to get a face full of fur when Kakashi turns back toward him, the hood of his parka brushing Iruka’s cheek. Kakashi looks slightly annoyed.
“S-sorry,” Iruka mumbles, stepping back.
“What else does your paper want to know?”
“Oh,” Iruka says, his cheeks warming with embarrassment. He’s acting like a regular fanboy and he’s not even into dogsledding. Fucking Kakashi and his fucking good looks. “Um, well, I was wondering, if...maybe...”
“Speak up,” Kakashi’s impatient, leaning into Iruka’s space and making him wonder if a full body blush can melt the snow at his feet.
“I’d like to go for a run, if that’s alright.” Iruka doesn’t need to see behind the mask to know that Kakashi is not happy about this. The way one eyebrow furrows is enough of an indicator.
The strained silence stretches for so long that Iruka’s ready to take back his request when Kakashi says, “Alright. But you’re holding Pakkun, and he tends to fart if we turn too many corners.”
Iruka blinks at the pug, who’s sitting amidst a pile of blankets on the sled, expression bland. “How many corners do you normally turn?”
“Would you care to borrow my mask?” Kakashi says, his voice full of laughter.
Title: Barrier
Author: waltzingstar
Rating: Ummm a bit NC-17ish
Word Count: 496
Prompt: Kakashi is a covert ops spy protecting Iruka, but they don't speak the same language.
A/N: Really super quick - merci beaucoup, ma cherie weezeuse, who helped me with the dirty talk, and did NOT laugh at me when I asked her to talk dirty to me in French. Je t'adore! <3
If Kakashi had any doubts about the assignment before he accepted it, he was choking on his dubiety now. To begin with, the man he’d been commissioned to protect was nothing short of stunning.
Glossy brown hair was tugged into a messy chignon that sat low on his head, framing large, dark eyes and a full pair of lips that coyly wrapped around the straw he’d requested for his beverage. Kakashi had had to blink a few times to tear his gaze away from Iruka as he sucked on the thing innocently; a schoolgirl with her lolly.
“I thank you for your service, Kakashi-san,” he said finally, the little translator on the choker he wore making a mockery of his voice. “My father and I have enjoyed your country immensely.”
Kakashi raised his sake to his lips, taking a moment to gently lift his mask before drinking. He set his cup back onto the table between them. “I hope that your father will see fit to return to Japan for future visits.”
An enigmatic smile played at Umino Iruka’s lips, making the scar that sliced through his nose seem somehow more pronounced. “Perhaps. Now, if you don’t mind, I'd like to retire to my room. I'm in sore need of a bed."
“I’ll escort you, Iruka-sama.”
Quietly, they made their way to Iruka’s suite, Kakashi trying not to gape at his client’s ass as he keyed open the door and stepped aside for Kakashi to enter.
A quick search of the place told him what he already knew; there were no intruders, and nothing was amiss. Nothing except the glittering of Iruka’s eyes in the dimly lit entryway when Kakashi returned to bid him goodnight.
“Tu me rends dingue,” he growled impatiently, shoving Kakashi against the wall to pry open the buttons of his shirt. Kakashi tried to spin away, but tanned fingers followed, tugging at his black silk tie until it fell uselessly to the floor. Iruka's gaze was smouldering, his voice thick with lust when he said, “Baise-moi.”
“I don’t understand, could you please put back on your-” Kakashi was silenced with a kiss, the hard press of teeth against his lower lip coaxing his mouth open. For a moment he was dragged under, swept away by the hands that wound into his hair, blunt fingernails scratching softly at his scalp while a hot tongue wrapped around his own.
“Je veux te sucer,” Iruka whispered, hands sliding into Kakashi’s shirt to tease hard nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Slowly, Iruka sank to his knees, eyes locked on Kakashi’s face while he mouthed at his cock through the fabric of his pants.
“Fuck,” Kakashi whispered, all his good intentions smashed to nothing by those lips.
“Oui,” Iruka purred, tugging down Kakashi’s zipper and gripping his cock. Gently, he rubbed his cheek against the length of it, the leaking tip leaving a silver track over the line of his jaw. “Oui.”
A/N: Iruka is saying: "You're driving me crazy," "Fuck me," "I want to suck you," and "Yes, yes."
Title: The Bionic Man
Author: waltzingstar
Rating: PG
Word Count: 512 (well, I tried)
Prompt: Iruka runs a bar in the wild wild west. Kakashi is a gunslinger looking for the man who killed his mentor.
Kakashi pushed the button on Biscuit, watched as the red lights of his eyes flickered and faded to a dull gray. He patted the tin of the horse’s neck, long past caring what people thought of his attachment to the machine.
Around him, the street stood still, the hologram that sheathed the town in obscurity winking occasionally and giving him peeks of what lay beneath. Feigning interest in a dent on Biscuit’s hide, Kakashi scanned the area, watching for the telltale rift in the illusion.
There.
Quickly, he reached a gloved hand to the brass monocle over his eye, tapped a sequence that had it zooming in on a little box which appeared to float in midair.
“Gotcha.” In a flash his arm was up, his four barrel Derringer protruding from the depths of his dust covered trench coat. Shots rang out into the heat blanched sky.
Like a curtain the mirage dropped, the ghost town he’d been standing in swallowed whole by thriving businesses and bawdy, flashing lights. Carriages being towed by models ranging from the earliest rendition of the Horse to the most recent prototype ambled by him, their passengers seemingly oblivious to his arrival.
He shook his head in disbelief, a bark of laughter lifting the handkerchief that covered his face. If he’d had to bet, he’d place everything he owned on the notion that the civilians had invested in a Uchiha Genjutsu forcefield - it was the only explanation for how complete the illusion had felt.
And if there was an Uchiha to be found in this town, then he was definitely on the right track.
Grinning, Kakashi glanced around, noting the storefronts. A bank, pawn shop, and strange looking window with a sign that merely read “Specialty,” marched down one side of the street, while on the other huddled a general store, newspaper office, and a saloon. Tugging his hat down, Kakashi decided to go with the saloon, which seemed as good a place to start as any.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d pushed through the doors of The Rusted Dolphin, but it wasn’t the rouge, velvet covered walls, or the piano playing a raucous number that seemed to shake the cogs of the Card Dealer, whose battery was in sore need of replacement. He certainly wasn’t prepared for the motley assortment of customers, both civilian and mechanical, or the scarred kid with shotguns longer than his arms yelling while standing on a table in the corner of the room.
But mostly, he wasn’t expecting to see those brown eyes from years ago, widened in shock as they seemed to drink him in. With a deep breath, Kakashi trudged toward the bar, his stomach jolting with every clomp of his boots until he came to a stop in front of the bartender, whose marred face he never thought he’d live to see again.
“Hatake Kakashi,” said Iruka, his bionic arm tightening around the shotglass he held until it burst into shards that hit Kakashi like an accusation. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Title: Leader of the Pack
Author: waltzingstar
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300
Prompt: Iruka is a reporter covering the Iditarod and he wants to know what it's like. Grudgingly, Kakashi offers to take him for a short run.
“Pakkun is the mascot,” Kakashi says fondly, and Iruka wonders if Kakashi’s aware of the snowflakes caught in his thick, dark lashes. His cheeks are stained red by the cold, and not even the ski mask that covers half his face can keep his breath from escaping in thin, white puffs as he speaks. “Bull, Akina, and Ūhei are the most powerful, and also the most dominant. I have to disperse them throughout the pack or they’ll try to outdo each other.”
Iruka steps closer to Kakashi to see which dog he’s gesturing at, only to get a face full of fur when Kakashi turns back toward him, the hood of his parka brushing Iruka’s cheek. Kakashi looks slightly annoyed.
“S-sorry,” Iruka mumbles, stepping back.
“What else does your paper want to know?”
“Oh,” Iruka says, his cheeks warming with embarrassment. He’s acting like a regular fanboy and he’s not even into dogsledding. Fucking Kakashi and his fucking good looks. “Um, well, I was wondering, if...maybe...”
“Speak up,” Kakashi’s impatient, leaning into Iruka’s space and making him wonder if a full body blush can melt the snow at his feet.
“I’d like to go for a run, if that’s alright.” Iruka doesn’t need to see behind the mask to know that Kakashi is not happy about this. The way one eyebrow furrows is enough of an indicator.
The strained silence stretches for so long that Iruka’s ready to take back his request when Kakashi says, “Alright. But you’re holding Pakkun, and he tends to fart if we turn too many corners.”
Iruka blinks at the pug, who’s sitting amidst a pile of blankets on the sled, expression bland. “How many corners do you normally turn?”
“Would you care to borrow my mask?” Kakashi says, his voice full of laughter.