Under the Radar
Title: Under the Radar
Author: windfallswest
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: <----
Length: c. 1,500
Notes: A short, porny sequel to Winter in a Bottle (which I have now reposted with some revisions at my journal now the reveals are out) I wrote to finish out my notebook. Not too many questions answered but, well, I'm not sure how done with this AU I am. And many thanks to megyal, fastest Beta south of the Mississipi. Now, if only I weren't the slowest respondent north of the Mason-Dixon. We had to tie ice-blocks to this fic so it wouldn't die of temperature shock in transit.
The sun beat warm on Iruka's face, pounding away the last vestiges of psychological chill from his nose and ears and digits. He let himself relax and enjoy the luxury of heat he himself did not have to create.
Nearby, Kakashi snored softly on the sand. Iruka had laughed when he'd emerged from the sybaritically un-hutlike hut they were occupying on this discreet island resort in the balmy middle of the Land of Water, pale skin and tattoos covered by a thick coat of zinc oxide in textured swirls like stucco. Kakashi had pushed down the most ridiculous pair of oil-leak iridescent M-frame sunglasses Iruka had ever seen to glare at him one-eyed, then sauntered vaguely down in the direction of the beach.
He was lying on sand so fine and black now, he might have been a daguerreotype if not for his bright red trunks, the glasses, and of course the little orange book (some cousin to Icha Icha Adventure!) tented over them. Iruka had brought a long towel festively printed with tropical flowers to lie on because he personally preferred not to get sand anyplace he could avoid it.
Iruka sat up a little and took another sip of rum. It was the good stuff, smooth going down and just a little bit spiced. The bottle stood half-buried in the sand by his elbow. Iruka could warm it with a touch.
They had been sitting there all day, barely moving even when the high tide lapped at their toes. Now the sun was lowering to the wide horizon. Maybe he'd swim tomorrow.
Last night, they'd dragged in from their respective bases, having been thoroughly debriefed, examined for injuries, and-if Kakashi was as much a workaholic as Iruka was-stared at with poleaxed astonishment when the perennially-threatened vacation was accepted without the assistance of ambush and chemical substances. They'd arranged this rendez-vous before parting ways in the mountains. Iruka had been unsure how he'd feel about seeing Kakashi again; but after the preliminary hair-trigger knife-throwing, things had gone rather well. Iruka ached all over in the best of all possible ways. He was looking forward to being more inventive this evening.
Kakashi yawned and stretched, then rolled to his feet. Sure enough, his back was all over in sand thanks to the zinc, like half a breaded fish. Iruka was almost sorry they hadn't gone to one of the white-sand beaches.
Bending, Kakashi rescued his book from the sand. He brushed half-heartedly at the zincked and now gritty pages, making a face at them before giving it up for a bad job. He didn't wobble, but his posture was loose. He'd had the painfully solicitous staff make him a couple-three-half-dozen Backdrafts over the course of the day. Iruka had watched curiously from between lazy eyelids as a firm-looking woman prepared the first one. The scent of herbs, honey, and bitter orange overlaid the headier aromas of cognac and cask-proof whiskey. The snifter was classier than any drink Iruka would have expected Kakashi to order. At least, it was until it caught fire. Kakashi had accepted the drink graciously, careful not to dislodge what looked like a cork coaster except pierced by a straw, and settled in to marinate. Later, they'd had onion rings and lobster. And cooked carrots.
"Well, I think I'm about ready for some exercise. Care to join me?" Kakashi drawled, offering him a hand up.
Iruka ignored the smeary appendage and came easily to his feet on his own. "Shower first." He pitied the drains.
"Maa, don't be so picky."
Kakashi ran his hands down his chest suggestively, which only succeeded in scoring two long grooves in the tacky white.
"Yeah. I'll be waiting." Iruka shook out his towel and rescued both bottle and glass from sand that was almost soft to the touch.
Iruka switched on all the lights in the bedroom against the creeping night and drew the curtains. They were thick and long. Lamps bracketed them, preventing any telling silhouettes as he shucked off his trunks. The room's clean lines were brightly illuminated by the time he had finished and flopped onto the wide, inviting bed. Bounce, bounce. The duvet was softer than the sand.
At length, the sound of the shower cut off and Kakashi emerged, one fluffy towel slung around his hips, another chafing his hair dry.
"Feeling human again?" Iruka asked, with only the faintest personal, internal irony.
Kakashi looked up. "I won't be convinced I'm back in civilisation until the hotels have mirrors over the beds, red-eyed boy."
"Tacky."
"What, you never like to watch?" Kakashi asked slyly.
"What can I say? I'm a hands-on kind of guy."
Iruka let his legs fall open, suggesting what Kakashi might want to get his hands on. Kakashi dropped between them, promptly naked. Iruka grinned up at him.
Kakashi ran his hands up Iruka's body, leaning in for a slow, deep kiss that took his breath away. Soft, sweet, and gentle. Iruka froze, mind racing. The mood between them stuttered, shifted.
Then little sparks of electricity flicked his nipples as Kakashi's thumbs passed over. Iruka arched appreciatively, distractingly. He bit Kakashi's lower lip, hard and dragging, to wind him up. Kakashi's fingers danced over his body with a low-grade electric buzz that drove him wild. His tongue sent a jolt to the roof of Iruka's mouth.
Wrestling Kakashi onto his stomach stretched muscles that had been idle all day. They both smelled a hell of a lot better than they had the first time they'd done this, that was for sure. Iruka pinned his arms and bit his neck, cooling the air so the body under his shivered. The next bite was hot as the sweltering ocean sun; and the next, just at his hairline, was again like ice.
Iruka made his way down Kakashi's back, alternating cold, hot, hot, at random, sometimes leaving a thin rime of frozen sweat and breath that he would lick off, tongue swirling to follow convoluted lines of ink and teeth scraping over vertebrae. Kakashi played along, keeping his arms stretched overhead after Iruka let them go, holding himself tautly still.
Face to face with the flat planes of Kakashi's ass and sharp hipbones, he blew a stream of scorching air all the way up his spine. Kakashi gasped at the contrast of icy breath and tongue over the entrance to his body.
Readjusting his grip on the leg he'd pushed up, Iruka licked again, a little warmer this time. Cold to sensitise, heat to relax. This, Iruka could do. Each pass came with air a little hotter until Iruka's tongue was darting in past the yielding muscle to open Kakashi's body in preparation.
Kakashi moaned into the bedclothes, limbs flexed against the desire to move and clutch and urge. Iruka's cock twitched in sympathy, his own pressing arousal more and more difficult to ignore. Almost ready.
The merest hint of chill over Kakashi's sac, followed by furnace-like heat as Iruka's lips chased after. In the wake of the distraction, Iruka rolled away to locate the lube in the nightstand the quite thorough resort staff had furnished them with and rolled back again.
Kakashi had flipped over, legs spread and feet planted, his hands gripping the top of the headboard. His eye was dark and his lazy smile more than a little wicked as he watched Iruka warm the air around the lube before he slicked himself.
Iruka hoisted Kakashi's pale, wiry legs over his shoulders before pushing in. He took it slow, watching Kakashi's knuckles whiten on the headboard. He was at once sculpture and canvas, designed to be lethal but arranged to invite.
He was tight, tighter than he would have been with fingers, flesh still hot from Iruka's magic. Sinking in felt like sliding into a volcano, and he was looking for the on switch. Slow, shallow thrusts until he found it. Then Kakashi lit up like the whole Ring of Fire.
Iruka drove in hard then, setting a demanding pace. Their mouths found each other again as Iruka pushed deeper, dropping to his elbows and bending Kakashi perforce in half.
Sparks flew literally wherever Kakashi's lips touched. Iruka chased his tongue, the slide and the ozone bite. Kakashi's dick rubbed his belly much as it had the first time they'd fucked, a light, almost tickling sensation on top of the rest, the clenching and taste and sweaty heat and shocks. Iruka's rhythm stuttered, growing wilder. A questing tongue grazed his ear and nipped with tiny lightning
The air was close with muddled sounds, not words but moans and panting, the slap of flesh on flesh and a faint creaking of abused springs. Close, close and hot like Kakashi around him, shouting and bearing down with every thrust.
Iruka was losing it, so near the edge he felt like he'd die if he didn't come soon. With a thrust and a last, startling puff of cold air, Kakashi came shuddering around him, his orgasm so intense it took Iruka a moment to realise he was coming too, his words betraying him with a low, strained repetition of Kakashi's name.
Bit by bit, Iruka creaked upright and pulled out and, all with agonising slowness, toppled backwards. He felt utterly wrung.
"Are you alive?" Iruka felt obliged to ask after a short eternity.
"Maa," Kakashi said, then didn't finish the thought. Then, with a smirk that was fair audible, "I'll return the favour tomorrow. Once I find some rope."
Author: windfallswest
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: <----
Length: c. 1,500
Notes: A short, porny sequel to Winter in a Bottle (which I have now reposted with some revisions at my journal now the reveals are out) I wrote to finish out my notebook. Not too many questions answered but, well, I'm not sure how done with this AU I am. And many thanks to megyal, fastest Beta south of the Mississipi. Now, if only I weren't the slowest respondent north of the Mason-Dixon. We had to tie ice-blocks to this fic so it wouldn't die of temperature shock in transit.
The sun beat warm on Iruka's face, pounding away the last vestiges of psychological chill from his nose and ears and digits. He let himself relax and enjoy the luxury of heat he himself did not have to create.
Nearby, Kakashi snored softly on the sand. Iruka had laughed when he'd emerged from the sybaritically un-hutlike hut they were occupying on this discreet island resort in the balmy middle of the Land of Water, pale skin and tattoos covered by a thick coat of zinc oxide in textured swirls like stucco. Kakashi had pushed down the most ridiculous pair of oil-leak iridescent M-frame sunglasses Iruka had ever seen to glare at him one-eyed, then sauntered vaguely down in the direction of the beach.
He was lying on sand so fine and black now, he might have been a daguerreotype if not for his bright red trunks, the glasses, and of course the little orange book (some cousin to Icha Icha Adventure!) tented over them. Iruka had brought a long towel festively printed with tropical flowers to lie on because he personally preferred not to get sand anyplace he could avoid it.
Iruka sat up a little and took another sip of rum. It was the good stuff, smooth going down and just a little bit spiced. The bottle stood half-buried in the sand by his elbow. Iruka could warm it with a touch.
They had been sitting there all day, barely moving even when the high tide lapped at their toes. Now the sun was lowering to the wide horizon. Maybe he'd swim tomorrow.
Last night, they'd dragged in from their respective bases, having been thoroughly debriefed, examined for injuries, and-if Kakashi was as much a workaholic as Iruka was-stared at with poleaxed astonishment when the perennially-threatened vacation was accepted without the assistance of ambush and chemical substances. They'd arranged this rendez-vous before parting ways in the mountains. Iruka had been unsure how he'd feel about seeing Kakashi again; but after the preliminary hair-trigger knife-throwing, things had gone rather well. Iruka ached all over in the best of all possible ways. He was looking forward to being more inventive this evening.
Kakashi yawned and stretched, then rolled to his feet. Sure enough, his back was all over in sand thanks to the zinc, like half a breaded fish. Iruka was almost sorry they hadn't gone to one of the white-sand beaches.
Bending, Kakashi rescued his book from the sand. He brushed half-heartedly at the zincked and now gritty pages, making a face at them before giving it up for a bad job. He didn't wobble, but his posture was loose. He'd had the painfully solicitous staff make him a couple-three-half-dozen Backdrafts over the course of the day. Iruka had watched curiously from between lazy eyelids as a firm-looking woman prepared the first one. The scent of herbs, honey, and bitter orange overlaid the headier aromas of cognac and cask-proof whiskey. The snifter was classier than any drink Iruka would have expected Kakashi to order. At least, it was until it caught fire. Kakashi had accepted the drink graciously, careful not to dislodge what looked like a cork coaster except pierced by a straw, and settled in to marinate. Later, they'd had onion rings and lobster. And cooked carrots.
"Well, I think I'm about ready for some exercise. Care to join me?" Kakashi drawled, offering him a hand up.
Iruka ignored the smeary appendage and came easily to his feet on his own. "Shower first." He pitied the drains.
"Maa, don't be so picky."
Kakashi ran his hands down his chest suggestively, which only succeeded in scoring two long grooves in the tacky white.
"Yeah. I'll be waiting." Iruka shook out his towel and rescued both bottle and glass from sand that was almost soft to the touch.
Iruka switched on all the lights in the bedroom against the creeping night and drew the curtains. They were thick and long. Lamps bracketed them, preventing any telling silhouettes as he shucked off his trunks. The room's clean lines were brightly illuminated by the time he had finished and flopped onto the wide, inviting bed. Bounce, bounce. The duvet was softer than the sand.
At length, the sound of the shower cut off and Kakashi emerged, one fluffy towel slung around his hips, another chafing his hair dry.
"Feeling human again?" Iruka asked, with only the faintest personal, internal irony.
Kakashi looked up. "I won't be convinced I'm back in civilisation until the hotels have mirrors over the beds, red-eyed boy."
"Tacky."
"What, you never like to watch?" Kakashi asked slyly.
"What can I say? I'm a hands-on kind of guy."
Iruka let his legs fall open, suggesting what Kakashi might want to get his hands on. Kakashi dropped between them, promptly naked. Iruka grinned up at him.
Kakashi ran his hands up Iruka's body, leaning in for a slow, deep kiss that took his breath away. Soft, sweet, and gentle. Iruka froze, mind racing. The mood between them stuttered, shifted.
Then little sparks of electricity flicked his nipples as Kakashi's thumbs passed over. Iruka arched appreciatively, distractingly. He bit Kakashi's lower lip, hard and dragging, to wind him up. Kakashi's fingers danced over his body with a low-grade electric buzz that drove him wild. His tongue sent a jolt to the roof of Iruka's mouth.
Wrestling Kakashi onto his stomach stretched muscles that had been idle all day. They both smelled a hell of a lot better than they had the first time they'd done this, that was for sure. Iruka pinned his arms and bit his neck, cooling the air so the body under his shivered. The next bite was hot as the sweltering ocean sun; and the next, just at his hairline, was again like ice.
Iruka made his way down Kakashi's back, alternating cold, hot, hot, at random, sometimes leaving a thin rime of frozen sweat and breath that he would lick off, tongue swirling to follow convoluted lines of ink and teeth scraping over vertebrae. Kakashi played along, keeping his arms stretched overhead after Iruka let them go, holding himself tautly still.
Face to face with the flat planes of Kakashi's ass and sharp hipbones, he blew a stream of scorching air all the way up his spine. Kakashi gasped at the contrast of icy breath and tongue over the entrance to his body.
Readjusting his grip on the leg he'd pushed up, Iruka licked again, a little warmer this time. Cold to sensitise, heat to relax. This, Iruka could do. Each pass came with air a little hotter until Iruka's tongue was darting in past the yielding muscle to open Kakashi's body in preparation.
Kakashi moaned into the bedclothes, limbs flexed against the desire to move and clutch and urge. Iruka's cock twitched in sympathy, his own pressing arousal more and more difficult to ignore. Almost ready.
The merest hint of chill over Kakashi's sac, followed by furnace-like heat as Iruka's lips chased after. In the wake of the distraction, Iruka rolled away to locate the lube in the nightstand the quite thorough resort staff had furnished them with and rolled back again.
Kakashi had flipped over, legs spread and feet planted, his hands gripping the top of the headboard. His eye was dark and his lazy smile more than a little wicked as he watched Iruka warm the air around the lube before he slicked himself.
Iruka hoisted Kakashi's pale, wiry legs over his shoulders before pushing in. He took it slow, watching Kakashi's knuckles whiten on the headboard. He was at once sculpture and canvas, designed to be lethal but arranged to invite.
He was tight, tighter than he would have been with fingers, flesh still hot from Iruka's magic. Sinking in felt like sliding into a volcano, and he was looking for the on switch. Slow, shallow thrusts until he found it. Then Kakashi lit up like the whole Ring of Fire.
Iruka drove in hard then, setting a demanding pace. Their mouths found each other again as Iruka pushed deeper, dropping to his elbows and bending Kakashi perforce in half.
Sparks flew literally wherever Kakashi's lips touched. Iruka chased his tongue, the slide and the ozone bite. Kakashi's dick rubbed his belly much as it had the first time they'd fucked, a light, almost tickling sensation on top of the rest, the clenching and taste and sweaty heat and shocks. Iruka's rhythm stuttered, growing wilder. A questing tongue grazed his ear and nipped with tiny lightning
The air was close with muddled sounds, not words but moans and panting, the slap of flesh on flesh and a faint creaking of abused springs. Close, close and hot like Kakashi around him, shouting and bearing down with every thrust.
Iruka was losing it, so near the edge he felt like he'd die if he didn't come soon. With a thrust and a last, startling puff of cold air, Kakashi came shuddering around him, his orgasm so intense it took Iruka a moment to realise he was coming too, his words betraying him with a low, strained repetition of Kakashi's name.
Bit by bit, Iruka creaked upright and pulled out and, all with agonising slowness, toppled backwards. He felt utterly wrung.
"Are you alive?" Iruka felt obliged to ask after a short eternity.
"Maa," Kakashi said, then didn't finish the thought. Then, with a smirk that was fair audible, "I'll return the favour tomorrow. Once I find some rope."