(no subject)
Title: Scar Tissue
Author: JBMcDragon
Genre: Drama
Status: In progress, 12/18-ish
Rating: R for violence and sexual content. Eventually, NC-17
Warnings: Het, yaoi, violence, and terrible, terrible angst. Also, very, very long.
Summary: Set during the end of the time-jump.
They returned one teammate fewer. The loss of that teammate changed Kakashi in ways Obito surviving couldn't have. Kakashi remembers him fondly, speaks to him in dreams, and carries his ghost as a companion.
But his dreams and reality don't quite match up . . .
Scar Tissue
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Part Two
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Some quick author's notes: I thought I was going to be able to do some fancy editing, and post R rated versions of the NC-17 chapters. That's not going to happen, though; it became a plotpoint. :P So, I've bumped the rating up (though THIS chapter isn't NC-17, the story will be eventually). Many apologies to anyone inconvenienced by this.
Note two: Many, many thanks and love to doire and jame_alec, my knights in shining text, leaping to the defense of Scar Tissue. Thanks, guys. ;) (For those curious--no I'm not going to provide a link. The person they were defending me from doesn't need to end up flamed. *wry smile*)
Chapter Twelve
Obito lay on the couch, fiddling with paper and charcoal Ibiki had left the night before. He was pretty sure the Special Jounin had just forgotten them at the bar, but he played with them anyway.
His sketches looked more like stick figures. He attempted to draw a nose, and had to admit that it looked more like a penis. He flushed at the thought. "Hey, Anko?" he called, hearing the shower shut off.
She stepped out a moment later, toweling her hair dry, naked as the day she was born. "Yeah?"
Obito's gaze slid over her appreciatively. Small and compact, scars running the length of her, breasts small, one of them marred by a circular scar where a spike had driven through. He'd asked. She'd cheerfully informed him that half of that boob was fake.
He began to sketch her fake boob. "Have you ever, uh, been attracted to other women?"
"Is this a creepy 'Let's have a threesome' thing? Because if so, I'm disappointed in you. You're so typical."
"It's not!" Obito squawked, blushing furiously. He glared at her as she picked up her mesh shirt, finding the bottom with practiced ease and pulling it on. "I was just wondering. If that was, y'know, normal."
Anko popped her head though the top and looked at him consideringly, squirming until her arms were free. "Why? You find a guy you like?"
"I--I wouldn't--I mean, I'm with you anyway--" he stammered, wishing he could sink into his chair.
"Relax. We're just fuckbuddies," Anko said casually. "You don't see same-sex relationships in blood line clans very often, but everywhere else it's pretty normal. My partner is a woman."
Obito stopped attempting to draw the boob. "What?"
Anko frowned at him. "You didn't know? Look, Obito, you and me are fuckbuddies, but I have a real partner. She and I have been together for several years now. I mean, if you want to date someone else, you wouldn't hurt my feelings."
Obito's thoughts had gotten stuck on the fact that Anko made out with another GIRL. He snickered.
She slapped him upside the head. "Pervert."
He snickered again, while Anko pulled on a black leather skirt. "Who?" he asked after a minute. "I can't remember seeing you with anyone . . ."
Anko's eyebrows lifted. "Kurenai."
He blinked. "But I thought Kurenai and Asuma--isn't she pregnant?" He knew Anko hadn't managed *that.*
Anko smiled softly, her gaze elsewhere. It was a look Obito had never seen on her before. Quiet and feminine, a little vulnerable in a good sort of way. "Asuma is a good friend, and Kurenai and I agreed he'd make a good father, if something should happen to one of us. The baby will be biologically his, but really mine. Mine and Kurenai's." She propped a foot up on the coffee table, pulling on a boot and zipping it up.
Obito smiled slowly, happy for her since she was so obviously happy, herself.
Then her sharp gaze landed on him. "So, yeah, people are sometimes attracted to their own sex. Who's the guy?"
Obito blushed bright red. "G-guy? There's no guy. None," he blabbered.
Anko laughed. "Well, I wish you lots of happy gay sex. And whenever you gird your balls to ask him out, you let me know. We might have to stop being fuckbuddies, if he's not amenable to it."
Obito squirmed uncomfortably. Gay sex? So, obviously, there was a way despite plumbing. Maybe oral sex? Damn it, he wished he knew more. How did other people learn this stuff? Talking, he supposed.
"All right, I'm out of here," Anko said, walking over and planting a disgustingly wet kiss on his forehead. "You be g--is that my tit?" She yanked the sketchpad out of his hand before he could stop her. "You little pervert." She smacked it hard on his head, then dropped it in his lap. "Later!" Anko called, and breezed out of the room.
Obito smirked at his drawing.
**
Obito couldn't quite stop thinking about gay sex. He really couldn't wrap his mind around the concept. Where did you put *it*? Sure, there were holes on the human body you could use, but why would anyone do that? It didn't seem like it would be much fun.
He stood behind the bar drying glasses, his cane hooked over the edge of the counter nearby. His single eye moved almost constantly, checking the door before glancing around the rest of the bar--in case someone had come in without ringing the bells. Not that anyone ever had, even though the Jounin easily could. They all seemed to know how blind he was, to his chagrin, and did what they could to make themselves noticeable. The only man who hadn't, who'd startled him into breaking a glass, had been summarily thrown out by Ibiki and Gai. Rumor had it that he'd spent his next two ANBU missions on surveillance in Snow Country.
Obito couldn't decide whether to be pleased or annoyed. It hadn't changed his behavior at all; he still cased the place, tunneled vision sweeping over the bar. He'd taken to activating the Sharingan when it got busy--for this place, that was any more than five people. The bar was holding its own, but was far from hopping, yet. At five people he went Sharingan and let the chakra widen his vision. Ironically, it had drawn another few people in.
But during the middle of the day, the bar was almost empty. No reason to use it; he just kept looking around.
It was the same as it had been five minutes before: the only person other than him was Raidou, sitting across the counter and tearing the label off his beer. "Problems?" Obito asked, setting the glass carefully on the rack with a musical clink.
Raidou smiled, twisting the scars strangely, and looked up. "Not really. How's Anko?"
"Great," Obito said absently.
"Problems?" Raidou echoed, looking amused.
"Hm? Oh." Obito picked up another glass, drying it as well. "No, I--" He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. There was a scar there; years and years of teeth piercing skin. "Anko was, uh, talking about gay sex."
Raidou chuckled. "Got you thinking?"
Obito looked up, saw twinkling brown eyes, and flushed. "No! I mean--well, a little. But not like, personally or anything." His gaze slid away, then back. Raidou was still chuckling. "Just, like . . . I don't see how it could work very well . . . must be all oral, right?" He tried to act casual, like it didn't really matter. Like he knew the answer, truly.
Raidou laughed again. Obito tensed. He hated being laughed at.
"Who're you interested in?" Raidou asked cheerfully.
Obito felt himself blush. He grabbed his cane and stomped toward the back. "I'm not interested in anyone!" he nearly yelled. "I was just curious!"
Fuck it. It wasn't that important. There were other ways to get information--ways where people didn't laugh at you. He just felt so *stupid*.
**
Obito had invited him, so he supposed it was all right. Kakashi glanced at his reflection in the door of the bar, then finally laid a hand on the glass and pushed it open. Bells chimed, drawing the bartender's gaze up and to him unerringly.
Kakashi lifted a hand in a wave, then let it keep rising and scrubbed through his messy hair.
Obito smiled, then scowled, then went back to pouring beer. Kakashi edged inside, glancing around.
Lots of windows. They were all slightly tinted; darkened by the one-way mirrors facing the outside. Lights hung from the rafters on sturdy chains, low enough to give lots of illumination, high enough that it would take effort to grab one and swing. The tables and chairs were all heavy, sturdy wood. The booths were deep and well padded. There were two people in one corner, three more at the bar. A small, hand-written sign above the counter read, "If you sit elsewhere, you must get your lazy ass up to the bar yourself for food and drinks." Kakashi was pretty sure he recognized Anko's scrawl.
Obito put the beer on the counter and slid it down, customers passing it along until it reached its destination. His Sharingan spun lazily, calmly keeping track of things.
Kakashi ambled up to the end of the counter, sliding onto a barstool. Obito came over a moment later, looking uncertain and flushed.
"Hey," the small man said, hooking his cane over the edge of the bar and leaning. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Maybe he'd screwed up. But Obito had told him to come, and he did want to be friends. Obito had been important to him. "I could go," Kakashi offered quietly, trying to pretend like it didn't matter.
"No. It's fine. What do you want?"
Kakashi startled, looking up, then realized Obito meant *to drink.* "Whatever you have on tap."
"I have three things on tap," Obito said with exaggerated exasperation.
"The closest."
Obito gave him a narrow eyed look, then stomped off, muttering. Kakashi watched as the slim man stretched to grab a small cup off a shelf, set it down, and poured sake into it. "You don't even drink beer, 'Kashi," Obito grumbled, caning back over and setting the cup down.
"Thank you," Kakashi said with a slight smile, and tugged his mask off his face.
Obito's cheeks went bright pink. "Yeah, well," he mumbled, not looking up. "I--I should see--um--" As if he'd completed that statement, Obito headed down to the other end of the bar and his customers there.
Kakashi watched him go, smiling bemusedly. Obito had cut his hair again. Short, now, but shaggy. The ponytail was gone, replaced by pale skin showing at the nape of his neck. Black and silver hair was brushed back on one side, the other side allowed to fall forward over the eyepatch, ebony locks blending with the black material. Every few minutes hair would fall in his single good eye, and Obito would toss it back impatiently.
Kakashi sipped sake and watched. Despite the cane, Obito was a good bartender. Things took him a little bit longer, but no one seemed to mind. He had a smile for everyone, a laugh just waiting to be shared, a quick scowl for some poor sap's misfortune.
The door opened and Kurenai came in, followed by Genma. She picked a table and he came up to get drinks, then wandered back. He still had a bandage across half his face from the last ugly mission he'd been on. Rumor said they were doing what they could to keep it from scarring. They didn't have many shinobi with unscarred faces, and Genma was good at undercover work.
Obito's Sharingan began to spin just a little bit faster.
Kakashi stood, taking his sake cup and moving closer to the other end of the bar, so Obito wouldn't have to walk so far.
"Hey!" the couple at the booth called. "Can we get more beers?"
Obito's eye narrowed. Kakashi was about to say something when Genma yelled, "Read the sign, idiots!"
Obito lifted his cane, whacking the handwritten sign with the end.
"You need staff," Kakashi said blandly, as the couple at the booth muttered.
"As soon as I can afford it," Obito agreed. "When Anko and Raidou are here, they help."
"I thought you were rich," Kakashi said curiously.
"I am. But I'd like the place to run on its own, you know? Be successful." Pale skin flushed slightly, and Kakashi could almost hear the unspoken words: Obito needed to be good at something. "I need to, uh, restock the, um, limes." Obito limped off, cheeks pink.
Kakashi watched him go and wondered what was going on in that pretty head. Pretty head? He winced, sliding his fingers under his hitai-ate to rub both eyes. Gods, but he had it bad.
There were flashes now of the boy-Obito he'd known. Friends had said they'd noticed them, and the more time Kakashi spent in Obito's presence the more he saw them himself. When he'd been young--and stupid--he'd seen that passion, that quickness of emotion, as a weakness. Now he could see it as simply Obito, weathered harshly, but alive.
Suddenly, Kakashi was glad the man had been captured so young. He was *alive.* Not killed by a war, the Kyuubi, or enemy ninja. Not slaughtered by Itachi. Alive.
Kakashi's head snapped around as he heard a bang and a curse, followed by easy laughter. Obito's face flushed bright red as he fumbled with cane and glasses, snarling under his breath. Kakashi smiled slowly, watching movements that were just shy of graceful, hampered by scars. Gods, but he *liked* Obito. He had no idea what he was going to about it.
"It's not funny, Izumo," Obito grouched, which only made the man at the bar laugh more. "Shut up! It's not funny!"
Kakashi hid his smile, sliding off his barstool, sake gone. Obito didn't really want him around--tentative friendships aside--and he didn't want to spend the evening agonizing over whether or not he should attempt anything further than friendship, when friendship was uncertain on its own. He should be happy with that, all things considered.
He was shifting toward the door when Obito snapped, "Where are *you* going?"
Kakashi blinked, giving himself time to formulate an answer. "Home. I just wanted to see your bar--"
Obito turned pink again. "Sit your ass down. Stupid idiot genuises, think they know everything," he muttered in an undertone, then louder, added, "You came by to hang out, so hang out!" He sounded almost belligerent. 'Make something of it,' the tilt of his chin screamed. He refilled Kakashi's sake cup.
Interesting. Kakashi edged back up onto the barstool and watched Obito attempt to ignore him. Except that if the Copy Ninja paid attention--and he always did--Obito flushed every time he glanced over.
Izumo left after a bit. Raidou came in, waved to Kurenai and Genma, leaned on the bar and ordered a beer.
"How'd the Mist mission go?" the fire-scarred Jounin asked Kurenai, weight on the elbow resting against the counter.
Kurenai shrugged. "Wet."
Raidou snorted, taking the beer Obito, who was studiously not looking at Kakashi, handed to him. Raidou glanced over, Obito's not-looking was so intense, then smiled slightly and leaned close to the Uchiha to say something.
Obito turned bright red. "Knock it off, dick-head," he snapped, and banged away with his cane. There was nothing quite like someone stomping off while using either a cane or crutches; it certainly made a racket.
"'Bito-kun, another tequila?" one of the other two ninja at the bar slurred. Kakashi eyed him, recognizing ANBU. This one had been up on negligence charges a week before, and they still hadn't put him back on active duty. There were rumors that Ibiki was going to demote him entirely.
Obito set a glass of water down in front of the ninja.
"That's not tequila," the ANBU said, peering at the liquid suspiciously.
Kakashi sipped his drink, keeping an eye on things.
"No. Drink water, then tequila," Obito said, stomping toward the back of the bar.
"But, 'Bito-kun--"
"I'm not your Obito-kun," the Uchiha said haughtily. "Now drink."
The ANBU laughed and drank the water, then slapped his friend's arm. They both rose and left, leaving only Kakashi and Raidou at the bar.
"You want me to drag them back to pay their tab?" Raidou asked conversationally.
"Nah," Obito said with an awkward shrug. "They'll be back tomorrow. If they don't come back, I'll tell Ibiki." He grinned, a flash of something a little wicked in his spinning red eye.
Kakashi chuckled and drank again. He *did* like Obito, liked the way the man joked with Raidou, took care of his customers, the quick flashes of emotion that he'd never learned to hide. And if Obito had asked him to stay . . . well, maybe there was hope. He finished his sake.
"Here," Obito said a moment later, caning toward Kakashi and pouring him another cup of sake. He refused to look up, staring resolutely at the clear liquid.
"Thank you," Kakashi said, smiling and slightly confused. Obito couldn't hate him. This was more than just Anko insisting they talk. This was, if he was reading it right, Obito trying to make friends without totally swallowing his pride.
Kakashi could feel Raidou's eyes on them, considering something and not even bothering to hide it. When Obito stomped back over to Raidou, the man leaned over the bar and whispered.
They both looked at Kakashi. Obito looked away quickly, flushing, and Raidou's eyebrows shot up. Kakashi had never been as tempted to eavesdrop on a conversation as he was then, but the jutsu would be too obvious. Still, he wasn't *stupid*. About him, that much was clear, and it made Obito blush. Heck, so much as looking at Kakashi seemed to make Obito blush.
When Raidou got up he detoured to put a hand on Kakashi's shoulder and murmured, "Good luck. Kid's got it bad." Kakashi paused, hoping that that meant what he thought it meant. Raidou didn't play with people, but maybe he was just saying that Obito was still badly angry.
That sounded pathetic even to Kakashi's ears. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Raidou sat down with Kurenai and Genma, leaving only Kakashi and Obito at the bar.
Obito busied himself at the other end, wiping up a perfectly clean section of countertop. Kakashi watched him for a long time, debating his options. He'd never been one to leave anything unclear, though, and three cups of sake had given him artificial courage. Besides, he was sure he was right. He could smell frustration and arousal in the air, if he paid attention, and Obito wasn't good enough at hiding vague embarrassment every time he looked Kakashi's way. It was like watching a teenager goad himself into talking to a love interest.
"Obito?" Kakashi called quietly.
The man's face nearly flamed. "What? I'm busy." He started wiping another perfectly clean section of bar, narrow shoulders hunched.
"Hm. Nothing," Kakashi said finally. He wasn't going to shout questions across the room. He toyed with a few ideas, then finally pulled out a pen and Icha Icha Paradise. He carefully tore free the title page and wrote, 'Do you like me? Circle yes or no.' If Obito was going to act like a child, he could work with that.
Three cups of sake probably didn't hurt, either.
Kakashi folded the note into a bird and arced it gracefully toward the small man in the corner. It bounced off the back of Obito's neck.
Obito jumped and twisted, then, scowling, lowered himself carefully to the floor and picked it up. He read the note, went red, glanced at Kakashi, glanced away, and tucked the paper in his pocket.
No answer. Kakashi considered that. Then he tore free the back author bio and wrote, 'I think you stink.' He sent that flying toward Obito, too.
Obito caught it out of midair this time, read it, and looked at Kakashi with vague disdain. He caned over. "What are you, twelve?"
"I was just wondering the same thing," Kakashi said blandly.
"You were wondering if you were twelve?"
Kakashi frowned. "No, I was wondering if *you*--" He stopped, eyes narrowed. "You're twisting my words."
Obito smirked and poured more sake.
"Are you going to give me some idea of what's going on in your head?" Kakashi asked almost plaintively.
Obito flushed again, refusing to look up. Bells chimed, and his gaze slid over Kakashi's shoulder gratefully. "Hey, Aoba. Vodka martini?" He shifted away from Kakashi, going for glasses and alcohol.
Kakashi's eyes narrowed. That was fine. He could wait.
**
Kakashi watched as Aoba staggered out of the bar, the last to go, leaving only Kakashi and Obito. The Uchiha puttered around behind the counter, muttering to himself occasionally, sliding furtive looks toward Kakashi's barstool.
Kakashi sipped water--he'd had way too much sake, thanks to Obito constantly refilling his cup--and watched.
"So. Uh." Obito flushed pink.
"Come sit down," Kakashi suggested, pushing a stool out with his foot. Obito hesitated, then gathered up cloths and silver and shuffled around the end of the bar, finally struggling up onto a stool. He didn't look at Kakashi, his ivory skin still carrying spots of red on each high cheekbone.
Kakashi waited.
Obito fussed with wiping the already-clean silver off, propping his elbows on the counter and letting his shoulders arc up to his ears. His hair fell in his face, not as effective a curtain as it had been when long, but effective enough.
Kakashi scratched at a mark on the counter. He watched Obito's hands, the nearest one unscarred, the scarred one angrily red. "What did you do?" Kakashi asked, pointing.
Obito looked at it, turning his hand palm up, and frowned at the raw spots on his flesh. "Blisters. From the cane. I figure it'll toughen up eventually . . ."
"You could try a glove," Kakashi suggested, already unwrapping a bandage from around his leg.
Obito shrugged.
"Let me see."
Obito shot him a vaguely suspicious look, then slowly turned to face Kakashi and stretched his hand out.
Kakashi pulled antiseptic painkiller from a pocket and dabbed it on Obito's palm. With one hand he circled the man's slim wrist, thumb and forefinger meeting over the thin blue veins threading under pale skin. He could feel the flutter of a heartbeat pulsing through chakra, the softness of flesh that had never needed to callus. With his other hand he carefully spread the antiseptic evenly across Obito's palm, light touches of his fingertips over sensitive skin. He felt Obito's heartbeat speed, smelled the spike of arousal in the air. A quick look upward showed Obito's gaze riveted on Kakashi's hands, the pink spots bright flags on his cheeks.
Kakashi stopped, wrapping the bandage around Obito's palm, between thumb and forefinger and around again. He tied the cloth off deftly, a small knot over the back of the man's hand. Then he held onto the slim wrist, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the soft, pale skin just below Obito's palm.
Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the sake, but things didn't seem as confusing as they'd been before. He could smell Obito's interest, and the man wasn't running anymore. He was there, and warm, Sharingan eye spinning slowly, hair falling in his face. A light hummed quietly. Someone laughed outside. Black hair draped over Obito's eyepatch, tickling at fair skin.
"Obito," Kakashi murmured, and let the word trail off, the rest of his sentence lost in quiet and alcohol. He reached out with his free hand, brushing hair out of Obito's face, tucking it back behind the shell of an ear. It fell forward again, sliding like silk over Kakashi's fingers as they grazed the delicate hairs at Obito's temple.
Obito swallowed, eye still focused on the thumb tracing circles on the inside of his wrist. He hadn't pulled away from the hand at his face, didn't pull away when Kakashi let his fingers graze down along his narrow jaw. Kakashi could feel Obito's skin heat, chakra warming, heartbeat picking up. It seemed easy enough to slide off the barstool, closing the slight distance between them. Standing, he was as tall as Obito was on the stool. His fingers slid into the hair at the back of Obito's neck, leaning in and tugging him closer. At the last minute Obito looked away from his hand, red eye fading to gray and then black, meeting Kakashi's gaze.
"This could be a bad idea," Kakashi murmured, lips moving against Obito's. He felt Obito's swift inhalation, then a whispery, shuddery exhale. Silken hair slid over his fingers, muscles shifting beneath skin at the nape of Obito's neck. He moved closer, brushing their lips in a soft kiss, pulling back and doing it again when Obito didn't protest. The man's mouth moved under his, kissing back, leaning in. Kakashi tipped his head slightly, tracing the lower line of the man's bottom lip with his tongue, feeling the way he reacted, the shiver that worked up his spine. He put his free hand on Obito's knee, sliding up the thigh, feeling scars under cloth. Obito pulled back slightly, chin tipping down, tongue appearing to wet his lips and vanish again.
Kakashi waited, half expecting the man to tell him to bug off. But Obito didn't say anything, and after a minute Kakashi realized he was looking at the Copy Ninja's hand on his leg. Thinking Obito might be uncomfortable about that, Kakashi slid it back down to his knee, cupping the back of the joint. Then he leaned, nudging with his nose until Obito looked up again and he could kiss the man once more, enjoying the taste of sweet and warm that was the Uchiha. He pulled back after a moment, letting them both breathe, and was thrilled when Obito shifted on his barstool to move closer. Kakashi traced the narrow jawline with his thumb. Obito tipped his head into it, eye closed, then lashes opened and he shifted on his barstool, closer, arching up the little bit he needed to kiss Kakashi back.
Kakashi happily obliged, then nibbled gently on the shell of Obito's ear, almost feeling the whimper caught in the other man's throat. He used his tongue to softly trace folds and hollows, leaning closer still and wrapping long-fingered hands around Obito's ribs, supporting him when he shivered again.
"Ah--do that--" Obito gasped, hands closing on Kakashi's forearms.
Kakashi kissed him open mouthed, wet and warm, left a trail of kisses down Obito's neck, nuzzling under his ear and feeling the pulse point in his throat. Steady, fast, alive. He caught the earlobe in his mouth, sucked, flicked his tongue behind it, and shifted to catch Obito's partially open mouth in another kiss.
Obito reacted to everything, little shivers, heartbeat speeding, the tiniest noises that he stopped in his throat.
Kakashi sucked the man's lower lip into his mouth, careful of teeth, and slowly released it. "Okay?" he murmured against Obito's lips.
Obito nodded, eye closed, breath shivery.
"You're not mad at me?"
"For this?" Obito breathed. "No. I--no." He blushed furiously. "No."
Kakashi kissed him again, wishing he could kiss away whatever was causing the embarrassment--or at least keep it from affecting his former teammate. "Good," he said quietly. "I like you a lot. I don't want you mad at me."
Obito swallowed. "I'm not mad."
Kakashi brushed his lips against Obito's, feeling them slightly rough under his, a little damp. He licked the top one, telling himself they should stop now, that he was too inebriated--not drunk, but definitely buzzed--to start something like this. He was bound to misread a reaction. He kissed Obito softly again, his hands sliding down to the man's knees and resting quietly. One last kiss. He leaned in, caught thin lips under his own, keeping things chaste because he really didn't need the extra temptation. Eventually, he pulled away. Kissed Obito's jaw. His neck. Collarbones. Grazed his nose back up pale skin and sucked gently on the earlobe, feeling the shiver than ran almost continuously through Obito's body.
Oh, gods. He had to stop. Really. Kakashi pulled away, cupping Obito's face in his hands. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
Obito nodded wordlessly, single eye dark.
Kakashi kissed him once more. "Good," he said against the other man's mouth. "Very good."
**
Obito sat on his bed, fingers grazing his mouth. It hadn't felt like Anko. Anko moved fiercely, pliable curves masked by sheer forcefulness. Kakashi was all angles and sharp planes, but so careful he seemed softer, somehow.
Obito licked his lower lip, tasting Kakashi--mint and sake and something a tad spicy. His mouth felt tender; not bruised, but sensitive. He dragged his teeth over his lower lip carefully. The ninja had left shortly after they'd stopped kissing. Obito hoped he really did come back the next night. He sighed and curled up under his blanket, doubting he'd actually sleep. Man oh man. He'd never meant to like *Kakashi.* Life was strange.
**************
Author: JBMcDragon
Genre: Drama
Status: In progress, 12/18-ish
Rating: R for violence and sexual content. Eventually, NC-17
Warnings: Het, yaoi, violence, and terrible, terrible angst. Also, very, very long.
Summary: Set during the end of the time-jump.
They returned one teammate fewer. The loss of that teammate changed Kakashi in ways Obito surviving couldn't have. Kakashi remembers him fondly, speaks to him in dreams, and carries his ghost as a companion.
But his dreams and reality don't quite match up . . .
Scar Tissue
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Part Two
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Some quick author's notes: I thought I was going to be able to do some fancy editing, and post R rated versions of the NC-17 chapters. That's not going to happen, though; it became a plotpoint. :P So, I've bumped the rating up (though THIS chapter isn't NC-17, the story will be eventually). Many apologies to anyone inconvenienced by this.
Note two: Many, many thanks and love to doire and jame_alec, my knights in shining text, leaping to the defense of Scar Tissue. Thanks, guys. ;) (For those curious--no I'm not going to provide a link. The person they were defending me from doesn't need to end up flamed. *wry smile*)
Chapter Twelve
Obito lay on the couch, fiddling with paper and charcoal Ibiki had left the night before. He was pretty sure the Special Jounin had just forgotten them at the bar, but he played with them anyway.
His sketches looked more like stick figures. He attempted to draw a nose, and had to admit that it looked more like a penis. He flushed at the thought. "Hey, Anko?" he called, hearing the shower shut off.
She stepped out a moment later, toweling her hair dry, naked as the day she was born. "Yeah?"
Obito's gaze slid over her appreciatively. Small and compact, scars running the length of her, breasts small, one of them marred by a circular scar where a spike had driven through. He'd asked. She'd cheerfully informed him that half of that boob was fake.
He began to sketch her fake boob. "Have you ever, uh, been attracted to other women?"
"Is this a creepy 'Let's have a threesome' thing? Because if so, I'm disappointed in you. You're so typical."
"It's not!" Obito squawked, blushing furiously. He glared at her as she picked up her mesh shirt, finding the bottom with practiced ease and pulling it on. "I was just wondering. If that was, y'know, normal."
Anko popped her head though the top and looked at him consideringly, squirming until her arms were free. "Why? You find a guy you like?"
"I--I wouldn't--I mean, I'm with you anyway--" he stammered, wishing he could sink into his chair.
"Relax. We're just fuckbuddies," Anko said casually. "You don't see same-sex relationships in blood line clans very often, but everywhere else it's pretty normal. My partner is a woman."
Obito stopped attempting to draw the boob. "What?"
Anko frowned at him. "You didn't know? Look, Obito, you and me are fuckbuddies, but I have a real partner. She and I have been together for several years now. I mean, if you want to date someone else, you wouldn't hurt my feelings."
Obito's thoughts had gotten stuck on the fact that Anko made out with another GIRL. He snickered.
She slapped him upside the head. "Pervert."
He snickered again, while Anko pulled on a black leather skirt. "Who?" he asked after a minute. "I can't remember seeing you with anyone . . ."
Anko's eyebrows lifted. "Kurenai."
He blinked. "But I thought Kurenai and Asuma--isn't she pregnant?" He knew Anko hadn't managed *that.*
Anko smiled softly, her gaze elsewhere. It was a look Obito had never seen on her before. Quiet and feminine, a little vulnerable in a good sort of way. "Asuma is a good friend, and Kurenai and I agreed he'd make a good father, if something should happen to one of us. The baby will be biologically his, but really mine. Mine and Kurenai's." She propped a foot up on the coffee table, pulling on a boot and zipping it up.
Obito smiled slowly, happy for her since she was so obviously happy, herself.
Then her sharp gaze landed on him. "So, yeah, people are sometimes attracted to their own sex. Who's the guy?"
Obito blushed bright red. "G-guy? There's no guy. None," he blabbered.
Anko laughed. "Well, I wish you lots of happy gay sex. And whenever you gird your balls to ask him out, you let me know. We might have to stop being fuckbuddies, if he's not amenable to it."
Obito squirmed uncomfortably. Gay sex? So, obviously, there was a way despite plumbing. Maybe oral sex? Damn it, he wished he knew more. How did other people learn this stuff? Talking, he supposed.
"All right, I'm out of here," Anko said, walking over and planting a disgustingly wet kiss on his forehead. "You be g--is that my tit?" She yanked the sketchpad out of his hand before he could stop her. "You little pervert." She smacked it hard on his head, then dropped it in his lap. "Later!" Anko called, and breezed out of the room.
Obito smirked at his drawing.
**
Obito couldn't quite stop thinking about gay sex. He really couldn't wrap his mind around the concept. Where did you put *it*? Sure, there were holes on the human body you could use, but why would anyone do that? It didn't seem like it would be much fun.
He stood behind the bar drying glasses, his cane hooked over the edge of the counter nearby. His single eye moved almost constantly, checking the door before glancing around the rest of the bar--in case someone had come in without ringing the bells. Not that anyone ever had, even though the Jounin easily could. They all seemed to know how blind he was, to his chagrin, and did what they could to make themselves noticeable. The only man who hadn't, who'd startled him into breaking a glass, had been summarily thrown out by Ibiki and Gai. Rumor had it that he'd spent his next two ANBU missions on surveillance in Snow Country.
Obito couldn't decide whether to be pleased or annoyed. It hadn't changed his behavior at all; he still cased the place, tunneled vision sweeping over the bar. He'd taken to activating the Sharingan when it got busy--for this place, that was any more than five people. The bar was holding its own, but was far from hopping, yet. At five people he went Sharingan and let the chakra widen his vision. Ironically, it had drawn another few people in.
But during the middle of the day, the bar was almost empty. No reason to use it; he just kept looking around.
It was the same as it had been five minutes before: the only person other than him was Raidou, sitting across the counter and tearing the label off his beer. "Problems?" Obito asked, setting the glass carefully on the rack with a musical clink.
Raidou smiled, twisting the scars strangely, and looked up. "Not really. How's Anko?"
"Great," Obito said absently.
"Problems?" Raidou echoed, looking amused.
"Hm? Oh." Obito picked up another glass, drying it as well. "No, I--" He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. There was a scar there; years and years of teeth piercing skin. "Anko was, uh, talking about gay sex."
Raidou chuckled. "Got you thinking?"
Obito looked up, saw twinkling brown eyes, and flushed. "No! I mean--well, a little. But not like, personally or anything." His gaze slid away, then back. Raidou was still chuckling. "Just, like . . . I don't see how it could work very well . . . must be all oral, right?" He tried to act casual, like it didn't really matter. Like he knew the answer, truly.
Raidou laughed again. Obito tensed. He hated being laughed at.
"Who're you interested in?" Raidou asked cheerfully.
Obito felt himself blush. He grabbed his cane and stomped toward the back. "I'm not interested in anyone!" he nearly yelled. "I was just curious!"
Fuck it. It wasn't that important. There were other ways to get information--ways where people didn't laugh at you. He just felt so *stupid*.
**
Obito had invited him, so he supposed it was all right. Kakashi glanced at his reflection in the door of the bar, then finally laid a hand on the glass and pushed it open. Bells chimed, drawing the bartender's gaze up and to him unerringly.
Kakashi lifted a hand in a wave, then let it keep rising and scrubbed through his messy hair.
Obito smiled, then scowled, then went back to pouring beer. Kakashi edged inside, glancing around.
Lots of windows. They were all slightly tinted; darkened by the one-way mirrors facing the outside. Lights hung from the rafters on sturdy chains, low enough to give lots of illumination, high enough that it would take effort to grab one and swing. The tables and chairs were all heavy, sturdy wood. The booths were deep and well padded. There were two people in one corner, three more at the bar. A small, hand-written sign above the counter read, "If you sit elsewhere, you must get your lazy ass up to the bar yourself for food and drinks." Kakashi was pretty sure he recognized Anko's scrawl.
Obito put the beer on the counter and slid it down, customers passing it along until it reached its destination. His Sharingan spun lazily, calmly keeping track of things.
Kakashi ambled up to the end of the counter, sliding onto a barstool. Obito came over a moment later, looking uncertain and flushed.
"Hey," the small man said, hooking his cane over the edge of the bar and leaning. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Maybe he'd screwed up. But Obito had told him to come, and he did want to be friends. Obito had been important to him. "I could go," Kakashi offered quietly, trying to pretend like it didn't matter.
"No. It's fine. What do you want?"
Kakashi startled, looking up, then realized Obito meant *to drink.* "Whatever you have on tap."
"I have three things on tap," Obito said with exaggerated exasperation.
"The closest."
Obito gave him a narrow eyed look, then stomped off, muttering. Kakashi watched as the slim man stretched to grab a small cup off a shelf, set it down, and poured sake into it. "You don't even drink beer, 'Kashi," Obito grumbled, caning back over and setting the cup down.
"Thank you," Kakashi said with a slight smile, and tugged his mask off his face.
Obito's cheeks went bright pink. "Yeah, well," he mumbled, not looking up. "I--I should see--um--" As if he'd completed that statement, Obito headed down to the other end of the bar and his customers there.
Kakashi watched him go, smiling bemusedly. Obito had cut his hair again. Short, now, but shaggy. The ponytail was gone, replaced by pale skin showing at the nape of his neck. Black and silver hair was brushed back on one side, the other side allowed to fall forward over the eyepatch, ebony locks blending with the black material. Every few minutes hair would fall in his single good eye, and Obito would toss it back impatiently.
Kakashi sipped sake and watched. Despite the cane, Obito was a good bartender. Things took him a little bit longer, but no one seemed to mind. He had a smile for everyone, a laugh just waiting to be shared, a quick scowl for some poor sap's misfortune.
The door opened and Kurenai came in, followed by Genma. She picked a table and he came up to get drinks, then wandered back. He still had a bandage across half his face from the last ugly mission he'd been on. Rumor said they were doing what they could to keep it from scarring. They didn't have many shinobi with unscarred faces, and Genma was good at undercover work.
Obito's Sharingan began to spin just a little bit faster.
Kakashi stood, taking his sake cup and moving closer to the other end of the bar, so Obito wouldn't have to walk so far.
"Hey!" the couple at the booth called. "Can we get more beers?"
Obito's eye narrowed. Kakashi was about to say something when Genma yelled, "Read the sign, idiots!"
Obito lifted his cane, whacking the handwritten sign with the end.
"You need staff," Kakashi said blandly, as the couple at the booth muttered.
"As soon as I can afford it," Obito agreed. "When Anko and Raidou are here, they help."
"I thought you were rich," Kakashi said curiously.
"I am. But I'd like the place to run on its own, you know? Be successful." Pale skin flushed slightly, and Kakashi could almost hear the unspoken words: Obito needed to be good at something. "I need to, uh, restock the, um, limes." Obito limped off, cheeks pink.
Kakashi watched him go and wondered what was going on in that pretty head. Pretty head? He winced, sliding his fingers under his hitai-ate to rub both eyes. Gods, but he had it bad.
There were flashes now of the boy-Obito he'd known. Friends had said they'd noticed them, and the more time Kakashi spent in Obito's presence the more he saw them himself. When he'd been young--and stupid--he'd seen that passion, that quickness of emotion, as a weakness. Now he could see it as simply Obito, weathered harshly, but alive.
Suddenly, Kakashi was glad the man had been captured so young. He was *alive.* Not killed by a war, the Kyuubi, or enemy ninja. Not slaughtered by Itachi. Alive.
Kakashi's head snapped around as he heard a bang and a curse, followed by easy laughter. Obito's face flushed bright red as he fumbled with cane and glasses, snarling under his breath. Kakashi smiled slowly, watching movements that were just shy of graceful, hampered by scars. Gods, but he *liked* Obito. He had no idea what he was going to about it.
"It's not funny, Izumo," Obito grouched, which only made the man at the bar laugh more. "Shut up! It's not funny!"
Kakashi hid his smile, sliding off his barstool, sake gone. Obito didn't really want him around--tentative friendships aside--and he didn't want to spend the evening agonizing over whether or not he should attempt anything further than friendship, when friendship was uncertain on its own. He should be happy with that, all things considered.
He was shifting toward the door when Obito snapped, "Where are *you* going?"
Kakashi blinked, giving himself time to formulate an answer. "Home. I just wanted to see your bar--"
Obito turned pink again. "Sit your ass down. Stupid idiot genuises, think they know everything," he muttered in an undertone, then louder, added, "You came by to hang out, so hang out!" He sounded almost belligerent. 'Make something of it,' the tilt of his chin screamed. He refilled Kakashi's sake cup.
Interesting. Kakashi edged back up onto the barstool and watched Obito attempt to ignore him. Except that if the Copy Ninja paid attention--and he always did--Obito flushed every time he glanced over.
Izumo left after a bit. Raidou came in, waved to Kurenai and Genma, leaned on the bar and ordered a beer.
"How'd the Mist mission go?" the fire-scarred Jounin asked Kurenai, weight on the elbow resting against the counter.
Kurenai shrugged. "Wet."
Raidou snorted, taking the beer Obito, who was studiously not looking at Kakashi, handed to him. Raidou glanced over, Obito's not-looking was so intense, then smiled slightly and leaned close to the Uchiha to say something.
Obito turned bright red. "Knock it off, dick-head," he snapped, and banged away with his cane. There was nothing quite like someone stomping off while using either a cane or crutches; it certainly made a racket.
"'Bito-kun, another tequila?" one of the other two ninja at the bar slurred. Kakashi eyed him, recognizing ANBU. This one had been up on negligence charges a week before, and they still hadn't put him back on active duty. There were rumors that Ibiki was going to demote him entirely.
Obito set a glass of water down in front of the ninja.
"That's not tequila," the ANBU said, peering at the liquid suspiciously.
Kakashi sipped his drink, keeping an eye on things.
"No. Drink water, then tequila," Obito said, stomping toward the back of the bar.
"But, 'Bito-kun--"
"I'm not your Obito-kun," the Uchiha said haughtily. "Now drink."
The ANBU laughed and drank the water, then slapped his friend's arm. They both rose and left, leaving only Kakashi and Raidou at the bar.
"You want me to drag them back to pay their tab?" Raidou asked conversationally.
"Nah," Obito said with an awkward shrug. "They'll be back tomorrow. If they don't come back, I'll tell Ibiki." He grinned, a flash of something a little wicked in his spinning red eye.
Kakashi chuckled and drank again. He *did* like Obito, liked the way the man joked with Raidou, took care of his customers, the quick flashes of emotion that he'd never learned to hide. And if Obito had asked him to stay . . . well, maybe there was hope. He finished his sake.
"Here," Obito said a moment later, caning toward Kakashi and pouring him another cup of sake. He refused to look up, staring resolutely at the clear liquid.
"Thank you," Kakashi said, smiling and slightly confused. Obito couldn't hate him. This was more than just Anko insisting they talk. This was, if he was reading it right, Obito trying to make friends without totally swallowing his pride.
Kakashi could feel Raidou's eyes on them, considering something and not even bothering to hide it. When Obito stomped back over to Raidou, the man leaned over the bar and whispered.
They both looked at Kakashi. Obito looked away quickly, flushing, and Raidou's eyebrows shot up. Kakashi had never been as tempted to eavesdrop on a conversation as he was then, but the jutsu would be too obvious. Still, he wasn't *stupid*. About him, that much was clear, and it made Obito blush. Heck, so much as looking at Kakashi seemed to make Obito blush.
When Raidou got up he detoured to put a hand on Kakashi's shoulder and murmured, "Good luck. Kid's got it bad." Kakashi paused, hoping that that meant what he thought it meant. Raidou didn't play with people, but maybe he was just saying that Obito was still badly angry.
That sounded pathetic even to Kakashi's ears. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Raidou sat down with Kurenai and Genma, leaving only Kakashi and Obito at the bar.
Obito busied himself at the other end, wiping up a perfectly clean section of countertop. Kakashi watched him for a long time, debating his options. He'd never been one to leave anything unclear, though, and three cups of sake had given him artificial courage. Besides, he was sure he was right. He could smell frustration and arousal in the air, if he paid attention, and Obito wasn't good enough at hiding vague embarrassment every time he looked Kakashi's way. It was like watching a teenager goad himself into talking to a love interest.
"Obito?" Kakashi called quietly.
The man's face nearly flamed. "What? I'm busy." He started wiping another perfectly clean section of bar, narrow shoulders hunched.
"Hm. Nothing," Kakashi said finally. He wasn't going to shout questions across the room. He toyed with a few ideas, then finally pulled out a pen and Icha Icha Paradise. He carefully tore free the title page and wrote, 'Do you like me? Circle yes or no.' If Obito was going to act like a child, he could work with that.
Three cups of sake probably didn't hurt, either.
Kakashi folded the note into a bird and arced it gracefully toward the small man in the corner. It bounced off the back of Obito's neck.
Obito jumped and twisted, then, scowling, lowered himself carefully to the floor and picked it up. He read the note, went red, glanced at Kakashi, glanced away, and tucked the paper in his pocket.
No answer. Kakashi considered that. Then he tore free the back author bio and wrote, 'I think you stink.' He sent that flying toward Obito, too.
Obito caught it out of midair this time, read it, and looked at Kakashi with vague disdain. He caned over. "What are you, twelve?"
"I was just wondering the same thing," Kakashi said blandly.
"You were wondering if you were twelve?"
Kakashi frowned. "No, I was wondering if *you*--" He stopped, eyes narrowed. "You're twisting my words."
Obito smirked and poured more sake.
"Are you going to give me some idea of what's going on in your head?" Kakashi asked almost plaintively.
Obito flushed again, refusing to look up. Bells chimed, and his gaze slid over Kakashi's shoulder gratefully. "Hey, Aoba. Vodka martini?" He shifted away from Kakashi, going for glasses and alcohol.
Kakashi's eyes narrowed. That was fine. He could wait.
**
Kakashi watched as Aoba staggered out of the bar, the last to go, leaving only Kakashi and Obito. The Uchiha puttered around behind the counter, muttering to himself occasionally, sliding furtive looks toward Kakashi's barstool.
Kakashi sipped water--he'd had way too much sake, thanks to Obito constantly refilling his cup--and watched.
"So. Uh." Obito flushed pink.
"Come sit down," Kakashi suggested, pushing a stool out with his foot. Obito hesitated, then gathered up cloths and silver and shuffled around the end of the bar, finally struggling up onto a stool. He didn't look at Kakashi, his ivory skin still carrying spots of red on each high cheekbone.
Kakashi waited.
Obito fussed with wiping the already-clean silver off, propping his elbows on the counter and letting his shoulders arc up to his ears. His hair fell in his face, not as effective a curtain as it had been when long, but effective enough.
Kakashi scratched at a mark on the counter. He watched Obito's hands, the nearest one unscarred, the scarred one angrily red. "What did you do?" Kakashi asked, pointing.
Obito looked at it, turning his hand palm up, and frowned at the raw spots on his flesh. "Blisters. From the cane. I figure it'll toughen up eventually . . ."
"You could try a glove," Kakashi suggested, already unwrapping a bandage from around his leg.
Obito shrugged.
"Let me see."
Obito shot him a vaguely suspicious look, then slowly turned to face Kakashi and stretched his hand out.
Kakashi pulled antiseptic painkiller from a pocket and dabbed it on Obito's palm. With one hand he circled the man's slim wrist, thumb and forefinger meeting over the thin blue veins threading under pale skin. He could feel the flutter of a heartbeat pulsing through chakra, the softness of flesh that had never needed to callus. With his other hand he carefully spread the antiseptic evenly across Obito's palm, light touches of his fingertips over sensitive skin. He felt Obito's heartbeat speed, smelled the spike of arousal in the air. A quick look upward showed Obito's gaze riveted on Kakashi's hands, the pink spots bright flags on his cheeks.
Kakashi stopped, wrapping the bandage around Obito's palm, between thumb and forefinger and around again. He tied the cloth off deftly, a small knot over the back of the man's hand. Then he held onto the slim wrist, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the soft, pale skin just below Obito's palm.
Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the sake, but things didn't seem as confusing as they'd been before. He could smell Obito's interest, and the man wasn't running anymore. He was there, and warm, Sharingan eye spinning slowly, hair falling in his face. A light hummed quietly. Someone laughed outside. Black hair draped over Obito's eyepatch, tickling at fair skin.
"Obito," Kakashi murmured, and let the word trail off, the rest of his sentence lost in quiet and alcohol. He reached out with his free hand, brushing hair out of Obito's face, tucking it back behind the shell of an ear. It fell forward again, sliding like silk over Kakashi's fingers as they grazed the delicate hairs at Obito's temple.
Obito swallowed, eye still focused on the thumb tracing circles on the inside of his wrist. He hadn't pulled away from the hand at his face, didn't pull away when Kakashi let his fingers graze down along his narrow jaw. Kakashi could feel Obito's skin heat, chakra warming, heartbeat picking up. It seemed easy enough to slide off the barstool, closing the slight distance between them. Standing, he was as tall as Obito was on the stool. His fingers slid into the hair at the back of Obito's neck, leaning in and tugging him closer. At the last minute Obito looked away from his hand, red eye fading to gray and then black, meeting Kakashi's gaze.
"This could be a bad idea," Kakashi murmured, lips moving against Obito's. He felt Obito's swift inhalation, then a whispery, shuddery exhale. Silken hair slid over his fingers, muscles shifting beneath skin at the nape of Obito's neck. He moved closer, brushing their lips in a soft kiss, pulling back and doing it again when Obito didn't protest. The man's mouth moved under his, kissing back, leaning in. Kakashi tipped his head slightly, tracing the lower line of the man's bottom lip with his tongue, feeling the way he reacted, the shiver that worked up his spine. He put his free hand on Obito's knee, sliding up the thigh, feeling scars under cloth. Obito pulled back slightly, chin tipping down, tongue appearing to wet his lips and vanish again.
Kakashi waited, half expecting the man to tell him to bug off. But Obito didn't say anything, and after a minute Kakashi realized he was looking at the Copy Ninja's hand on his leg. Thinking Obito might be uncomfortable about that, Kakashi slid it back down to his knee, cupping the back of the joint. Then he leaned, nudging with his nose until Obito looked up again and he could kiss the man once more, enjoying the taste of sweet and warm that was the Uchiha. He pulled back after a moment, letting them both breathe, and was thrilled when Obito shifted on his barstool to move closer. Kakashi traced the narrow jawline with his thumb. Obito tipped his head into it, eye closed, then lashes opened and he shifted on his barstool, closer, arching up the little bit he needed to kiss Kakashi back.
Kakashi happily obliged, then nibbled gently on the shell of Obito's ear, almost feeling the whimper caught in the other man's throat. He used his tongue to softly trace folds and hollows, leaning closer still and wrapping long-fingered hands around Obito's ribs, supporting him when he shivered again.
"Ah--do that--" Obito gasped, hands closing on Kakashi's forearms.
Kakashi kissed him open mouthed, wet and warm, left a trail of kisses down Obito's neck, nuzzling under his ear and feeling the pulse point in his throat. Steady, fast, alive. He caught the earlobe in his mouth, sucked, flicked his tongue behind it, and shifted to catch Obito's partially open mouth in another kiss.
Obito reacted to everything, little shivers, heartbeat speeding, the tiniest noises that he stopped in his throat.
Kakashi sucked the man's lower lip into his mouth, careful of teeth, and slowly released it. "Okay?" he murmured against Obito's lips.
Obito nodded, eye closed, breath shivery.
"You're not mad at me?"
"For this?" Obito breathed. "No. I--no." He blushed furiously. "No."
Kakashi kissed him again, wishing he could kiss away whatever was causing the embarrassment--or at least keep it from affecting his former teammate. "Good," he said quietly. "I like you a lot. I don't want you mad at me."
Obito swallowed. "I'm not mad."
Kakashi brushed his lips against Obito's, feeling them slightly rough under his, a little damp. He licked the top one, telling himself they should stop now, that he was too inebriated--not drunk, but definitely buzzed--to start something like this. He was bound to misread a reaction. He kissed Obito softly again, his hands sliding down to the man's knees and resting quietly. One last kiss. He leaned in, caught thin lips under his own, keeping things chaste because he really didn't need the extra temptation. Eventually, he pulled away. Kissed Obito's jaw. His neck. Collarbones. Grazed his nose back up pale skin and sucked gently on the earlobe, feeling the shiver than ran almost continuously through Obito's body.
Oh, gods. He had to stop. Really. Kakashi pulled away, cupping Obito's face in his hands. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
Obito nodded wordlessly, single eye dark.
Kakashi kissed him once more. "Good," he said against the other man's mouth. "Very good."
**
Obito sat on his bed, fingers grazing his mouth. It hadn't felt like Anko. Anko moved fiercely, pliable curves masked by sheer forcefulness. Kakashi was all angles and sharp planes, but so careful he seemed softer, somehow.
Obito licked his lower lip, tasting Kakashi--mint and sake and something a tad spicy. His mouth felt tender; not bruised, but sensitive. He dragged his teeth over his lower lip carefully. The ninja had left shortly after they'd stopped kissing. Obito hoped he really did come back the next night. He sighed and curled up under his blanket, doubting he'd actually sleep. Man oh man. He'd never meant to like *Kakashi.* Life was strange.
**************