[Log]

[dango_diva]

Characters: Kankurou and Anko
Date: Thursday, April 2nd
Location: The Cena Residence
Rating: PG-13 to start
Warnings/Notes: Language, Probably Violence
Summary: Anko finally returns home

Comments

[puppet_facade]

Gaara was right. Surprisingly enough

[dango_diva]

So he hadn't left after all

[puppet_facade]

Kankurou had folded his arms across his chest in a stubborn stance, almost like a shield of sorts in trying to go up against Anko and her words. It was eventually going to fail, he knew that, but it was worth a try in the beginning. His brows slightly narrowed at the blatant marks that were fresh over certain areas, like that nasty cut on her hip that she seemed to be stretching with every step. Kankurou winced for her when she didn't and some bruises here and there with an ironic set of torn knuckles to complete it all.

"Surprised you came back," was the quick retaliating answer. Kankurou thought it best to slip the knives he had bought for her into his back pocket before he came in to look for her, but now as he stepped towards her and her naked form, he mildly wondered what she would do if she found them.

Kill him? Injure him? He would take the risks, all of it, because that's what he always did, didn't he? Whether it was solely for her or for him, or even for the both of them. He would take it

[dango_diva]

The fact that she lived here didn't seem important enough to point out, not when within a few days Kankurou had apparently grown some set of balls, or at least he might have thought he did the way he was ordering her around. She had opened her mouth to snap at him when he had first wrapped his fingers around her wrist, but the odd texture of his grip silenced her. Her scowl darkened at the bandage encompassing his hand and while curiosity demanded an answer, Anko pursed her lips tightly to refrain from asking.

It was probably just something stupid like trying to light one of his damned cigarettes after spilling some booze on himself.

"You don't get to tell me what to do. And I can do it myself," she bit back testily, glaring at the cotton balls mutinously. She didn't want him doing this stuff. She was still furious over the whole situation, but it was difficult to remain objective with him hovering around her with innocuously bandaged hands and trying to patch her up like he had done countless times before when she came home

[puppet_facade]

It was damn entrancing, what she was doing to him and how he was trying to follow. It all felt so perfect and Kankurou knew that he wouldn't give this up for anything, not even for his own life. While her hands were busy, Kankurou once again slid his own across her back, drawing patterns against her bareskin with his fingers. This time, now that the sentiments were done and over with, his movements were more firm and needy than soft and understanding.

"I'm bannin' clothes for th' res' of the nigh', so jus' gonna find 'nother way t'warm you up." Kankurou murmured against Anko's lips before pulling her close to him once more, finally returning her own suggestive movements with his own slow and steady roll of his hips against hers.

[dango_diva]

Chuckling softly, Anko caught his lower lip between her teeth while she all too easily matched the suggestive movement of Kankurou's hips

[puppet_facade]

Kankurou didn't even have a valid argument for Anko ripping off his shirt, only that it was his favorite work shirt. But even that seemed weak in the face of what he was offered in return, which was a mind-numbing friction of warm and bare skin on bare skin. His scarred and tattooed skin was all but inviting to hers and vice versa. His would probably be more coarse and rough, but the warmth that radiated through her was good enough that he really didn't care.

Kankurou raised his head and allowed a slow satisfied sigh to escape his lips, allowing Anko to make her mark, his hips once again pressing insistently forward in reaction to her touch. When he could feel the next time her teeth left his skin, Kankurou moved from out of her range and moved his own head to carry out his own equal, if not a bit more demanding ministrations. With two hands firmly on her hips, he didn't give any such warnings before he lifted her up onto the blank surface surround the sink, knocking over random hygienic containers

[dango_diva]

She couldn't help the small sound of frustration that escaped as Kankurou backed out of grasping range, but she was more than suitably compensated as her dissatisfaction was quickly forgotten with the return of his lips to her skin. Hands scrambled for some sort of leverage as she found herself hefted up onto the slick counter top, still damp with the condensation from her shower.

One hand immediately found itself threading through Kankurou's hair, massaging lightly at his scalp while his mouth moved of it's own accord, the other moving with great familiarity over the warm skin of his shoulder, his back, his bicep - anything within her reach.

"I think that's a concession I'm willing to make," she murmured, breath hitching as his teeth scraped over her sensitive nipple, her fingers tightening their grip momentarily. "Just so long as you know that there is no room for negotiation in the fact that the clothing ban is not just limited to me, which means that you're still in violation." As if to emphasize her point, Anko undulated