Chapter Text
This mission had been a disaster from the very moment you had been called into Tsunade’s office. First off, the mission would be leading you into the Land of Iron and around this time of the year, blizzards were reigning over the entire country. No one with a sound mind wanted to travel there now, but hey. No shinobi ever had a sound mind.
Secondly, your team consisted only of two people, due to the shortage of shinobi available. Which was already sucky enough, because out of all the people, did it have to be Hatake?
Hatake, the ever-smug, always arrogant, immortal asshole. Of course, he had buried his nose in his dumb book while Tsunade gave you two the briefing (just the standard spying on the samurai, who had organized some military exercises at the closest border to the Fire Country) and didn’t seem to be that interested into the entire mission.
Of course, you couldn’t help but snap at him to pay attention. And of course, the boring douche recited the exact words Tsunade used to describe the political tension between the country of the samurai and the rest of the world. An absolute dickhead.
An hour later, you were on the road. Hatake always jumping first, yet taking up space on free branches and hindering your path and pace. After only ten more minutes of the same theatrics, you were sure he was deliberately getting in your way. To annoy you? Highly possible, measured at the few sneaky glances he thought he could throw at you whenever he believed you to be busy with something else.
Like this, the journey towards the Land of Iron continued. Hatake peppered in more and more insults to your skills, to your rank, to your very being as shinobi. Pushing himself in front of you whenever you were encountering some kind of trouble, belittling your strength and capability, doing everything on his own and never accepting help from you. He would accept help from other Konoha shinobi, why not from you?
Every evening, he would take the first and second shift in watching out. You could insist on your duty as much as you wanted, but Hatake would simply not unpack his bedroll, lean against a nearby tree and stare at you with his already unsettling, dark, bottomless eye. He didn’t even need his Sharingan to unnerve you.
Damned bastard. One night, you two had stayed up all night because you didn’t want to give in and just have him take all the responsibility of the night watch on his shoulders. The entire damned night, you sat there, mimicking him: Sitting cross-legged, leaning against a tree, arms crossed as well over your chest, with your anger fueling your insistence to stay away as long as necessary. Only sometimes, your eyes would stray, fall on the surrounding trees, bushes and grass… and occasionally, also on the insistent, stubborn jonin.
Slimy bag of egoism and arrogance, you thought to yourself, full of himself just because he made it to his position in the middle of the third war. Promoted by the fourth Hokage himself, my ass.
If he would be just a tiny bit less arrogant about it, that he’s superior to anyone around him…
Not everyone can be a fucking genius.
“Is something the matter?”
“No,” you growled at him and turned your head in the other direction. Then, the cogs inside your brain started to turn. “Wait, in fact, yes. There is something.”
Kakashi was again deeply engrossed in his book. The pages turned way too fast for him to really read every single word, but he probably knew every single page by heart. “Well, then.” Boredom had to be his middle name, showing in the way he didn’t even attempt to look into your direction. “Go for it.”
“Why do you not take me seriously?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.” Hissing, you dug your fingers deeper into your arms. The only thing keeping you from jumping at him. “You’re constantly in my way! Constantly right in front of me!”
“You’re just too slow.”
“I would overtake you if not for your meddling! And also,” you inhaled, “the bandits on the way? You didn’t even allow me to finish two bandits in a row!”
“Again.” Another page was turned and not a look at your face. “You’re just too slow. If you were faster, then—!”
“My fighting style isn’t fast, it’s steady! Not everybody can be a fucking lightning-user!”
“Not my fault, still.” Hatake shrugged, raised his hand towards his mouth, seemed to lick his thumb through the mask before turning to the next page. Such a strangely endearing… annoying gesture, for sure. “Anything else you want to complain about?”
“Yes! I will take the night watch from here on out.”
“No.”
“No?” you shrieked. “Don’t you trust me at all? Not an inch?”
“I do.”
“Then why don’t you let me do night watch? There’s literally no reason for you to always do it!”
Finally, Kakashi stayed silent. However, he chose the worst moment out of all moments he could’ve possibly picked to do so. Because you were already so agitated, you scrambled out of your cross-legged position and stomped over while furiously hissing at him. “There’s literally no reason but you disrespect me and disrespect my skills! I’m a jonin, just like you, and you don’t decide what I can or can’t do!”
Finally, fucking finally, Hatake looked into your eyes. With one finger securing the page, his one single visible eyebrow quirked, wisps of his silvery, ridiculously soft hair hanging into his forehead and in front of the forehead protector. He looked just like a wet dream for a person who never had the unfortunate pleasure of being introduced to the copy ninja, up close.
Just for a moment, you saw him; saw him with the eyes of such a person: bedazzled and enchanted by the promising sight—
The sight of a strong, muscled, unproportionally beautiful shinobi, with the extra sprinkle of mystery surrounding him due to the mask.
Fuck, even his silver hair seemed to have an extra sheen of sparkle and magic to it, shined upon by the starlight and the weak flickering of the small campfire. You were not close enough to the border yet to warrant the need for cold food or mere energy bars after all.
There was no denying that Kakashi was attractive. You couldn’t, which made his entire behavior even more infuriating—
All smug and arrogant and stupidly pretty.
“And?” Another meaningful look, only for the man to lower his eyes again to the pages of his smut-filled, badly-written book. “I still don’t see any correlation.”
“Let me do the night watch! Sleep, for fuck’s sake!”
“I’m an insomniac. Don’t feel like sleeping tonight.”
An asshole. Hatake was just an asshole. Insomniac, your ass. He slept just fine, if you were on a mission in a typical three-man-cell. He had no problem with another person doing the night watch, but you were clearly not “allowed” to watch over him or your comrades. Fuck Hatake.
A last growl, vibrating deep down in your chest, then you dropped back into your previous spot. Fuck Hatake. You would stay awake for the entire night and not sleep at all, if that was how he wanted to play this game, then fuck it. Fuck your sleep, but most importantly…
Fuck. Hatake.
To say you were irritated by Hatake over the duration of the entire mission due to his behavior and disrespect would be an understatement. Though, you didn’t allow your mood to hinder the mission. And oh, the mission went well enough in itself. It was a surprise to you, but despite your disagreements with him, you two worked well together, and knew each other’s shortcomings when it came to secrecy and spying. Unluckily, the samurai were way craftier in detecting shinobi than the intel originally stated.
Just your luck, getting caught in the middle of a snowstorm, trying to escape the wrath of the samurai. Snow whirled around your head, icy winds surrounded you, reduced your vision to a few meters and choked you with the full force of the storm. The pulse thundered in your ears as you ran, barely following the shadow right in front of you and yet, nearly invisible in the snow. You didn’t expect Kakashi to wait for you and he didn’t. Still, that he wasn’t even glancing over his shoulder from time to time to check on you…
By now, you were so used to him constantly hovering over you when you were out, it was almost ridiculous. Craving for his attention, now that you finally got rid of it. Truly ridiculous, and weak on top of that.
An arrow swished past you, landing somewhere ahead of you in the snow. No time to ponder. Running was more important.
With chakra, it was easier to walk on top of the thick icy crust, but the new snow made it harder yet again. Another arrow flew past, hissing through the air and cutting through the falling snowflakes. They realized they couldn’t catch up to you; samurai were better at close combat and endurance than shinobi, but would never be up to the sheer sprinting speed shinobi could display.
So, bow and arrow it was now.
Your thoughts were cut short. One heavy hit in your back. Tumbling forward, the world twirling and turning around you, everywhere was white. There were snow in your nose, snow in your hair, snow in your clothes, shoes, eyes and ears. There was no pain, but suddenly a hand clamped down on your upper arm. Only a flash of Kakashi’s silver hair, then he pulled you up and forward. Forward, forward, as fast as your legs would carry you. A hand drifted over your back and you were already turning to defend yourself, but it was just Kakashi. Kakashi, wide eyes set on you, his hand on your back while you were still running.
My backpack, you realized suddenly, it is gone…
Doesn’t matter. Run, you dumb fool.
For another split second, his hand lingered. Then, his speed picked up and he was again gone in the whirling snowflakes and icy winds. And yet. Yet, you could follow him easier now, your breath not as loud and your heart not beating as fast and hard anymore. Warmth seemed to spread through your body, and at the epicenter was the very spot where Kakashi’s hand had lingered.
Time had no meaning in a blizzard. There were only the steps ahead, the one right in front of you and the one after that, and nothing more. Only the next seconds counted, with nothing to orientate than the barely visible dark shadow in your vision.
A voice, just barely audible over the howling of the storm. His voice. Kakashi’s. You blinked just once and found him screaming into your face. Not angry, by no means. There was no anger in his eyes, one dark and the other red. The only thing being able to find you in all this snow.
“Just ahead! A hut! Can you make it?” His voice was so close. Quickly, you nodded. At least, you thought you could make it. You weren’t in pain, you didn’t bleed, didn’t twist an ankle. Was he just thinking you were too weak to survive the rest of the way to the safe house? Was that it?
Another look into his eyes. No. As far as you could tell, Kakashi was merely… worried. Worried and scared and shaken up. Why though? This was just a typical mission, nothing not to be expected. Even if you would find death today, you would accept it as part of the job. That was what you were here for, to be discarded if necessary. You didn’t have to like it, just accept that bitter truth as a fact and move forward.
But Kakashi… Hatake… He looked at you like he was worried for you. His eyebrows were knitted together, a crease in the dark mask where his mouth should be, the hint of a snarl in the sharp wrinkles of the mask.
“Can you walk?” His snarky hiss pulled you back. Damn, maybe you hit your head when you fell. You couldn’t remember ever being this out, feeling like your brain was rattling around in your skull, all loose and shaken up—that shaken up you accepted Hatake’s hand on your upper arm as he led you the last meters towards a little hill of snow.
No, not a hill. Only slowly, small details broke through the ongoing haze of confusion and snow. There, an almost hidden window, still intact. The remains of a fence, years and years of constant snowfall working at destroying even the last of the manmade structure. A slightly ajar door, being pried open by Hatake when he was close enough and sure you wouldn’t get lost on the last meters.
“Get in!” He was still screaming over the storm, and you were quick to follow his command. Squeezing your body into the tight space, you pushed back against the door, allowing the man to follow, before wrangling the door shut again. You were so close by his side that his arm bumped against your shoulder. To avoid any more contact, you lowered yourself ever so slowly to the cold ground. Unluckily though, Hatake had the same idea. Your breath hitched in your chest when he also slid down to the ground, back tightly pressed against the askew wooden door.
No word was exchanged. It wasn’t necessary. Talking would also be extremely dangerous. Talking with words, that is.
Quickly, your hands fluttered through the air, catching Hatake’s attention.
Can you sense them?
Just as fast, Hatake signed back.
No. Better be safe than sorry though.
With a low sigh, you let your head fall against the door. Great. Waiting it was, then. Waiting for the samurai to give up their search and hopefully not being found. Getting killed by a troop of samurai would be deeply embarrassing. A disgrace in every aspect. Time to close your eyes for a bit and—!
No. You shot up. Closing your eyes, with a possible head trauma after that fall—even though you didn’t feel anything at the moment—would be dangerous. You had to stay awake, otherwise you didn’t need to bother with waking up again. Another heavy sigh, and you looked over to Hatake.
He seemed as poised as ever. Not one strand of his hair was misplaced, still hung into his forehead, arms draped over his knees and feet placed on the ground. The forehead protector was again in place and not even his breathing seemed to be any heavier than usual. The perfect tool a shinobi could be, and you were only a bit jealous because of that.
Of course, it had to be you getting hit. Not him, who was actually in need of a little bit of humiliation. Preferably in front of you, so you could rub it into his face for eternity. Or for as long as you lived, which could be shorter than you hoped.
For hours, or so it seemed like, you sat there with bated breaths, trying not to fall asleep even though your head begged you to do just that. The entire time, Hatake was beside you, his fingers occasionally poking your side whenever your chin threatened to sink down a certain level; a necessity you were begrudgingly grateful for. Nothing could be heard from the outside; nothing but the howling of the storm and the occasional rattle of the surprisingly sturdy wooden construction around you.
“They stopped the search.” Finally, Hatake moved away, his warmth immediately missed by your side even when you tried to deny that fact for yourself. “But they are still on high alert.”
“Of course they are.” The snide tone in your voice couldn’t be suppressed any longer. However, you merely earned a glance, before Hatake settled his backpack onto the ground and started unpacking.
Not that interesting, considering he wouldn’t have packed something truly unique. Instead of watching him and his nimble hands too closely (Where were those thoughts coming from? These bewitching, stupid, tempting thoughts?), you started to look around the small room. Thankfully, you weren’t claustrophobic, otherwise you might’ve had a problem with the current arrangement. The roof hung in a concave manner as it curved inwards, battered and weighed by (most likely) the frequent snowstorms. Though weathered, it still looked structurally strong, reliably covering the entire building. Several supporting beams around the single room held the roof into position, and still, you definitely felt a little bit better when Hatake set up a few stabilizing seals, just for good measure. Otherwise, there wasn’t much left inside the hut. In the middle, someone set up an old-fashioned fireplace, still including the rusty, black hanger and pot. The thing was probably heavier than you overall, but would serve its purpose still. If you were allowed to start a fire, that is.
But with tons of snow weighing quite literally over your heads, it would be quite stupid to start a fire. Cold dinner it was, then. Not the best, but obviously, you liked having your life more than a hot meal for a mere second before getting buried beneath an avalanche.
An old, ratty bedframe with a just-as-ratty mattress stood in one corner right across the room. It looked sturdy and big enough to hold more than three people. Probably, a small family lived here at some point, but out of unknown reasons, they had to leave.
Some more cupboards, scattered around the place, holding nothing more than more discarded, long broken, destroyed items. Only little to salvage and only so little of use for you in your situation.
Ever so carefully, you hoisted yourself up again. Instantly, you sucked a harsh hasp of air in. Fuck. Fuck, your entire back felt like Mighty Gai kicked you with his Morning Peacock activated. Only now, you realized that one of the samurai must’ve hit you with an arrow, doing the same to the arrow what they usually did to their katana: infusing the weapon with their chakra to increase their penetrative strength, allowing the metal to pierce through both your protective vest and chainmail. You gritted your teeth. This wouldn’t be pretty. Every muscle in your back hurt; the worst the impact zone. One slight move, and your entire back was screaming, rupturing, searing.
“Fuck!” You couldn’t suppress the harsh curse. Together with the pain, the curse lingered on your tongue. It felt good. Felt good to release some of the tension, even though it could be dangerous.
Kakashi instantly threw a soft glare at you. A reprimand, nothing more, but there was also worry in his eyes you couldn’t explain. He reached over, his hand nearly touching your shoulder, low and heaving with every pained gasp you took.
“What’s wrong?”
“My fucking shit back,” you hissed, “help me out of my vest, please. I’m begging you…”
“You don’t have to.” No other words needed to be exchanged. Scooting closer, Kakashi’s cool hands were sheer bliss on your skin, soft and steady, firm yet pliable whenever another harsh, muffled cry tore through your body. First, he helped you out of your vest, folded the heavy cloth and set it aside. Next was the thin chainmail-shirt, sticking to your body like a second skin. He scooted over the ground, right into your blind spot in your back. But he hesitated, just for the shortest of moments. You noticed; noticed in the same way you noticed the worry in his eyes and voice.
“Please,” you begged him again, “tear it off. Don’t worry, please, just—”
The cool fingers returned. Right at your lower back, hooking underneath the rim of the shirt. Slowly, carefully, painfully tender Kakashi started to pull the chainmail off of you. Every revealed centimeter to the cool air was bliss. Relief washed over you when the pressure went away. So much relief your head fell forward, making it easier for the man to pull the shirt over your head.
You didn’t mind your half-naked state. When you lived long enough as a shinobi, some trivial things civilians cared about became meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Nudity was one of them, especially when one was wounded. Thus, you didn’t mind when Kakashi started to map out the bruise on your back, despite only wearing your pants and bra. His fingertips were slightly colder than his hands, drawing lines and the rough size of the colorful injury.
You couldn’t suppress another groan slipping past your lips. Fuck, the bruise must be the size of a goddamn watermelon. He drew the line near your flanks, your imagination running wild at the true extent. Kakashi’s touch wasn’t meant to hurt, but your skin was so sensitive you had to keep yourself from twitching away as he neared the center of the impact zone. When he touched it, the low hiss burning in your throat finally dropped.
“I can move,” you assured him right after, “and I have some healing ointment in my bag.”
“The bag you lost?”
“Fuck. Right.”
“No worries.” His touch remained tender, even though the small pressure at your spine sent more searing flashes through your muscles. You gritted your teeth, only barely keeping another string of curses in. “I have some more of my own in my bag. If you don’t mind the scent of mint too much?”
“I would take everything over this fucking pain.” His warm presence in your back vanished, only to return only a few seconds later. More coolness spread over your back, but this time the coldness lingered. Lingered and soothed the overall burning. Your back grew numb, caused by the weak narcotic-effect in the cream. The sigh you let out came from deep within your chest as the pain faded more and more, until nothing else but the numbness of your muscles remained.
This way, you could at least rest a little bit tonight. Another relieved sigh dropped from your mouth, only to turn your head to stare at the side of Kakashi’s masked face. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” There it was again, the casual dislike for you. Like he burned his fingertips, the lingering hand retreated, only to scoot away completely and out of reach. As if you would be reaching out for him.
In your dreams, yes. But never…
When you moved, stretched and reached for the folded up vest, you always expected the pain to strike again. However, nothing but a slight pull of your muscles and the overall encompassing numbness of your back happened. Thankfully.
The next actions were as clear as the blizzard outside to you. Preparing the safety net around the safe spot, recovering, waiting out the search of the perimeters until it would be safe to leave, eating, trying to rest. Nothing else to do.
But just as you were about to form the first signs for a silencing seal spanning over the snowed-in hut, Hatake stopped you yet again. He was on you in the matter of a split second, his hand closing over yours and stopping you from forming more than one sign.
“What?” In a challenge, you raised your eyebrows. “Are my seals now not good enough?”
Instead of continuing your usual routine of call and response, Hatake squeezed your folded hands, before letting go again. “You should rest. I will do everything.”
“This is not the protocol.”
“I don’t care about the protocol.”
“For fuck’s sake, Hatake! Let me do this—!”
“No.”
“I may be injured, but I’m not an invalid all of a sudden.” A sharp glance was thrown Hatake’s way. “Keep your hands to yourself and let me do my job.”
“Fine.” Only a hint of annoyance, nothing else. And yet, that little hint of a tone made you snap at the man for good.
“It’s the same shit again! Can’t you just trust in my skills one bit instead of constantly belittling me?”
“I’m not belittling you.”
“Really?” You rolled your eyes. “It does certainly feel like you do!”
“I’m not,” Kakashi answered just as calmly as before, which stoked your own irritation with him, “belittling you in any way. I respect your skills, as a shinobi and a human being.”
“Then why don’t you act like it?”
At that, he didn’t answer. Just a slow cock of his head to the left, making the single strands of silver hair fall into his covered eye. For a few more seconds, you waited. Waited for something; a little sign he understood some of your troubles in being forced to accept his help over and over again, even if you didn’t need it. Hell, if you needed help, you would ask!
With a huff, you turned away and started layering all the needed circles of protection over the little hut. A silencing perimeter and chakra suppressing lines, all the works to feel as safe and sound as possible smack dab in the middle of the enemy territory. This time, Hatake didn’t stop you. Thank the gods, otherwise you maybe would’ve snapped at him even more than you already did.
In icy silence, you two shared the duties for the first time on this mission. And as expected, there was no problem even though you were injured as you walked around to set up the perimeters and seals, inspecting the worn-down furniture one by one.
In the process though, you noticed one more pressing problem. With your bag gone, gone were also all of your belongings you usually brought with you. In itself it didn’t present that much of a problem, at first. When you spent more than two seconds thinking about it, though…
It was cold outside and even though you both were shinobi and learned to keep yourself warm with chakra, it wouldn’t be enough to get through the night; not when you were both spent from the right and running. Not in this unforgiving hellhole of a snowstorm. No, with Kakashi’s backpack the only thing left and not being able to cover yourself up, the necessary protocol to help each other as comrades would take place. No matter how awkward it would become.
That meant sharing body warmth. That meant shedding clothes. That meant getting into Kakashi’s bed roll together, as yours was either getting carried around by a samurai now or was long covered by a thick layer of snow.
Shit. Fucking shit, I don’t want to climb into one bed roll with him.
I don’t want to feel him naked against me.
I don’t want that. Not like…
Not like this.
Your own thoughts scared you. Fuck, what was going on? Quickly, you shook your head. No, absolutely not. You didn’t want Kakashi like this. You didn’t want to sleep in one bed roll with him, didn’t want his warmth so close to you, didn’t want his fingers on your back, your thighs, your legs, your… You closed your eyes and simply breathed. Gods, you didn’t want him.
Not like this. Unwilling, out of duty.
Willingly? Oh yes. Definitely, on the spot.
Who wouldn’t want him willingly? Who would be insane enough to push Kakashi Hatake away? The mystery with his mask, the silver hair, the scar, the promised danger, the obviously trained body of every deadly, skillful shinobi… Just in the physical sense, Hatake was a catch already.
However, that alone wasn’t enough. Couldn’t be enough. The sudden realization dawned on you with the force of the ocean, unstoppable and so big you couldn’t avoid it. The reason why his belittling hurt so much and made you so angry that you couldn’t stand the sight of him sometimes.
Fuck. The sudden drop in your stomach made you sick. Fucking, fuck, shit damned gods, fuck. You must’ve done something terrible in your old life, as you had no idea how this kind of torture would be warranted otherwise. To sleep so closely to someone you had… well, newly discovered, long dormant feelings for… Gods, you were blind. And deaf. Blind and deaf to your own emotions, it was incredible actually.
Screaming and shouting seemed like good options, but both impractical due to Hatake being in the same room. Saving it for after the mission would be great. Fantastic even. Instead, you breathed deeply in and out again, trying oh so desperately to keep the little panic attack in and not let Hatake know what you just found out about yourself.
Of course, he still noticed. Probably smelled it in the air like some kind of goddamned hound, always sniffing for blood or something to hunt down.
“Everything alright?” His voice was way too close way too sudden. Right behind you, just one, two steps away. “Does your back hurt again?”
“No.” You grunted. Abruptly, you turned away, fiddling with your fingers and trying not to panic even more. Were the walls closing in? Oh shit, they had to be. The roof must be coming down every second, the decade-old wood finally deciding to give in to years and years of snow piling up on top of it.
No, that was bullshit and you knew it. Just your mind panicking so much it tried to play tricks on you. Nothing else but your imagination to gain more oxygen, to make you breathe deeper. By giving it more oxygen you would calm down for sure.
So, you crouched down, put your head between the knees and simply breathed. Even though your back slightly hurt from the position, even though you could feel Hatake’s worried glances in your back, even though your mind was still reeling over the fact you apparently… had feelings for him.
Urgh. Emotions.
It seemed so unreasonable, so sudden, so stupid. Crushing over him like so many others? When everything he did infuriated you with his belittling and disrespect towards you? Your heart was apparently even stupider than your brain was, falling for a guy like Hatake. Falling for Hatake specifically. A stupid decision overall.
“Hey.” His hand landed on your shoulder, palm cool and still unbearably tender. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
A bitter laugh ripped itself from your lips. “Yeah. Everything is just alright. Fantastic even.”
“Any problems with the protocol?”
“No. Why should there be?”
“I mean,” his hand retreated and you found yourself missing the innocent touch, all warmth and soft pressure against your sensitive skin, “I wouldn’t hold it against you. If you’re really not comfortable, then I can just leave the bed roll to you. No problem.”
“Are you insane?” The answer was out before you could even think about it. “It’s ice cold in here. You can’t stay awake the whole night either.”
“I can.”
“That would be suicide and you know it.”
Again, Hatake couldn’t counter the truth. With a shrug, he pulled out the book he was infamous for in Konoha’s streets, pretending like you weren’t there and your words invalid.
Asshole. What an enormous, gigantic asshole.
He knew the protocol. Not the soulless shinobi rules, written down in a dusty handbook, learned word for word during the academy years and thrown out to preserve some rest of humanity right afterwards. No, over the decades, the Konoha shinobi created their own protocol when it came to life-threatening situations in the field.
Do whatever you need to do to stay alive. Help your comrades. If one of you died, bring his remains back with you. Such easy things; human things to remember. Hypothermia was not that difficult to deal with, especially with two people, a safe place and a remaining bed roll to share. Of course, you didn’t want to die. Of course, you didn’t want to freeze your toes off or lose a limb. And that meant that you had to cuddle with Hatake out of necessity, nothing else. Proposing anything else or declining the bed roll was close to suicide.
Without another word, you limped past him towards the bed roll. Again, his eyes laid on your back, you could feel them like his fingers. You didn’t look at him as you started undressing, the short, sharp motions betraying how tense and irritated you were. The vest dropped to the ground like a stone, pants shoved down your legs and the second undergarment to preserve heat just as quickly pulled down. Just in your underwear, you scowled for a moment at the offending bed roll before climbing into the promising warmth. A few more huffs, turning and rolling, until you found an almost-comfortable position on your side, one arm tucked beneath your head and facing Hatake with a definitely defiant glare. His scent enveloped you, emitting from the fabric like a tempting dream, but you ignored everything, merely stared at him in a silent challenge.
Hatake shrugged once more, but in the way he put away his book back into the pocket of his vest, you just knew he was shaken up by your defiant confidence. There was a certain stiffness in his steps as he walked closer, a little pause before he turned away to undress himself, just a tiny moment of hesitation as he dropped his own vest beside yours and carried on to push his own baggy pants down his legs.
You weren’t intentionally peeking at him. You weren’t. Though, you couldn’t help but sneak a little glance at him when Kakashi stepped around the bed roll. Obviously, he was fit. Through your lashes, you could make out some details; very important details in your emotion-riddled, addicted, begrudgingly fascinated mind.
First off, he wore tight briefs. Black tight briefs, basically painted to his pale alabaster skin. The sleeveless shirt with his trademark mask attached to the neck clung to his body in an almost sinful, definitely teasing way. Second, he was cautious enough to slip below the covers before you could see more of him than the quick glimpse of muscles and a tempting bulge in his underwear. And third, and maybe that was the most important, the moment he flushed himself to your back, your heart jumped into your throat, only to continue in a fast, unsteady rhythm.
Every ridge, every bump, every small scar was pressed against your back. Naked skin on naked skin, his body warmth enveloping you just as much as his scent. There was nothing else but the raw feeling of the man so close to you. The thrill of being so close to him, bare skin you never even saw before, sliding against your body and making you question your sanity.
Well, you were certainly warming up quickly. The question was, would you be able to cool down enough to actually go to sleep?
“Hey.” His breath ghosted over the back of your neck. Goose bumps followed every breathed word, more warm air brushing in sharp waves against the nape and even lower. “You’re awfully tense.”
“I’m not in the best condition,” you hissed back, “as you may have noticed.”
His throaty hum sent a flash of want down into your stomach. “Just a few minutes ago, you said you were fine. Fine enough to set up all the security seals.”
“I am.”
“Then why are you tensing up now?”
“Because.” You breathed in, steeled yourself for the undeniable teasing which would follow. “This situation is certainly a bit difficult.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t like each other that much and just work well together.”
“Do we not like each other?”
“Do we?”
A mere heartbeat of silence. “We do. At least, I like you.”
“You do not,” you protested weakly, even though your heart again jumped into your throat out of the hope blooming inside your chest, “you do not like me. You do not respect my skills and abilities one bit.”
This entire situation was like a weird dream. You were laying in one bed roll with Kakashi Hatake, him nearly spooning you, oh gods, having this strange discussion if you two liked each other—as friends and colleagues, only as that!—while you were trying not to die of embarrassment at feeling his naked body against yours.
“So.” Your stomach jumped as his hand suddenly came to a rest on the curve of your hip, squeezing the thinly-cladded spot as a little tease. "You truly think I don’t like you.”
“Yes.” A little whisper, squeezed out and panicking. What was he doing? Why was he doing this? His hand started to stroke up and down, and at the simple gesture, you thought you would combust on the spot. His fingers seemed to want to experience your body, dragging up to the very edge of your ribcage, halting there, only to redraw the exact same line back downwards, stopping only at the line of your panties.
Why? Why, why why? Why is he torturing me like this?
“You really think so.” Kakashi sounded amused, if not downright joking. “You really believe I don’t like you.”
“Yes,” you repeated. Fuck, your face must be as red as a strawberry. You felt all hot and antsy, tingles spreading all over your body, feeling every single spot where his hand touched you with an intensity never experienced before.
“Guess the books were wrong.” His hand suddenly flattened against your stomach. With one soft pull—just as tender before, just as tempting—he inched closer, pressing his hips flush to yours. At that, you choked nearly, breathing in and out in an attempt to stay calm and not freak out at the noticeable bulge nestled into your lower back.
“What the…”
“Sorry,” his groan brushing over your earshell sent shivers down your spine, “To do it this way… Never my intention. I didn’t…” His hips rocked forward, another groan trembling in his throat. “Fuck.”
Fuck, indeed.
Your heart pounded in your chest, even though you couldn’t deny the heat pooling in your lower stomach. Casual sex on missions was happening all the time; you heard more than one story during your years of active duty. Even got some offers yourself, but you just weren’t a fan of it. Now, receiving such an offer from Kakashi Hatake himself, the guy you had newly-discovered-yet-apparently-long-harbored feelings for, was kind of insulting. Yet tempting.
Very, very tempting.
Still, this wasn’t right. Didn’t feel right to you, so you shuffled around until the delicious weight in your lower back was gone and you were able to crane your neck to the point you could look into his overshadowed eyes.
“No.” You shook your head. “We won’t do this. Not like this.”
“Not like this?” Kakashi’s confused echo was way too close to be infuriating. “So, you really don’t like me?”
“No, I mean…” With an exasperated sigh, you wiggled fully around. “I… I guess… I wasn’t clear until now.”
“You guess?”
“Can you stop repeating what I say every time? This doesn’t get easier because of that.”
“Okay.” Like he was guided by some kind of perverted instinct, Kakashi inched even closer. His hands landed once more on the curve of your hips, more of a necessity for him than actual insult to you. “Sorry.”
“No, no.” Again, you shook your head, though the heat creeping onto your face told you more than enough of what was happening to you. “Don’t be sorry. This is… It’s just… unexpected.”
So close to his face, you could see the slow blink indicating confusion. “Why?”
“Because we’re constantly fighting! We’re constantly at each other’s throats! Hell, you don’t even take me seriously in a fight!”
“I do take you seriously.”
“No,” you hissed, “you do not. Constantly, you push yourself in front of me and steal my night watches! Because you don’t trust me!”
“That’s not true.”
“Then, what is your issue with me!?”
At that, Kakashi fell silent. The worst possible moment to fall silent, as you felt that you were so close to finally get the inkling of an idea why Kakashi was constantly breathing down your neck (more figuratively than literally). Not like right now, when his breath came in short waves, brushing ever so gently over your collarbones and down your front.
“Hey.” Out of instinct, you jerked your elbow backwards, right into his chest. “Don’t grow silent on me now, big guy. You’re not getting out of this without an answer.”
It took Kakashi several more moments to sigh heavily, and a few more to actually open his mouth and speak, his lower face still hidden behind a mask, unnervingly clinging to his body like a second skin. “I’m not… Damn.”
“You’re not? What ‘not’?”
“This isn’t some… some casual offer. It’s also not coming onto you, I just…” Another sigh. “I’m following the protocol.”
“And you also know that the unofficial protocol we’re following at the moment is more an assembly of common human decency, to put aside any fights between Konoha shinobi and to do what has to be done to survive dire situations. You know that just as well as I do. Nothing in there states that this." Following a mischievous instinct, you pressed your body into his, what earned you a low hiss. "Can’t happen. In fact, it happens a whole lot.”
“I know.”
“Shiranui brags about it quite a lot, too.”
“I know.”
“He tried me as well.”
At that, Kakashi’s head shot up. “He did?” The undertone, the sudden tension crackling in the air, the stern glare… It told you more and more; more than enough to break into a little grin.
“He did." You nodded. "But I declined. I think it’s tasteless to sleep with anyone as long as they have two legs.”
The tension in the air rose. Goosebumps peppered your arms up and down, and you shivered from the tips of your ears right down to your toes. Not from the coldness inside the cabin, but because of the raw intensity lying in Kakashi’s eye. Your breath hitched, your pulse spiked up, your heart was beating way too loudly in your chest to be considered healthy anymore. But it didn’t matter.
The man in front of you mattered. The man with his hand possessively holding onto your hip, the man who tried to say something deeply personal, the same man who got all tense and pissy when you were merely talking about the sexual offer of another. There was something going on in that little brain of his, and you were now deeply curious what exactly was going on.
Something big, and you weren’t talking about the hard-on still flush against your stomach.
“Tell me,” you demanded, “tell me what is going on here. Why do you constantly jump in front of me to do tasks I’m perfectly capable to do on my own? Why do you think I’m not strong enough to fight on my own? Why do you constantly take the night watch from me when I also want to do my part to protect my comrades?”
Like a child, Kakashi avoided looking at you. Instead, you were greeted by the sharp line of his jaw, his cheek and a few wisps of his hair.
Well, then you had to guess and measure at the clues you had in your hands, you would be able to guess in an educated, precise manner.
“Fine.” You narrowed your eyes. “Then I will talk for the both of us. Because from my point of view, you’re doing all these things to show me how inferior I am in comparison to you. The almighty, invincible, constantly injured Kakashi Hatake. Not trusting a single soul, always working on his own. Though, you trust people. The rumors are wrong.”
Still no answer. Thus, you continued, mercilessly and trying to gauge every reaction you could get. “You trust Mighty Gai. You trust your Team 7. You trust everyone else on your missions, but me. And originally, I thought it was because you thought I am too weak. Too weak to be a jonin. Too weak to protect you as a comrade. But that’s not the truth, right?”
Nothing. Only a weak tightening of his grip against your hip, nothing more.
“No one else but me. And you said you don’t think I'm weak. So, if that is the truth, then you have another reason to do all of that. And what if—stay with me there—what if you did all of that out of reasons I couldn’t even imagine being true, because I was dead set on believing you didn’t like me. What if, huh?”
“What if.” Finally, his eye met yours. All dark intensity, a hunger burning inside the iris you knew you never had seen before. Wait, you had seen it, but it always had been muted, hidden, held back. Now, the full force hit you, just like the growled words being breathed into your lips. “Gods, yes.”
He wanted you. Triumph burned a wide path through your chest as you leaned in. Your lips searched for his, masked or not, and found them. Found them and pressed forward, moaning when Kakashi returned the kiss just as fervently as you started it.
His hand on your hip pulled; pulled and tugged your body closer until you were once more flushed against him. Merely your flimsy under clothes were in the way as the kiss continued. Lips moving, biting, nipping at slick fabric and moaning at the feeling of hands roaming. Your head swirled, reeled, stumbled. The air was thick, moans and muffled curses echoing faintly in the room. Nothing like a kiss burning through your veins, the lust and passion of returned attraction.
Another moan was rumbling in your chest as you nipped at his masked lips. Kakashi whined; a lovely, ridiculous, needy whine as you retreated, his one eye hazy and unfocused.
“This,” you smiled at him, “explains a lot.”
Kakashi nodded weakly. His chest was heaving, trembling with every breath he took in. One of your hands was adventurous enough to wander over the still covered skin. You watched how your fingertips gently trailed the small wrinkles in the skin-tight lycra, from collarbone to collarbone. There was a rumble from deep within his chest. You felt it; felt it rumble right beneath your fingertips as they danced lower, down to his sternum exploring the plane of his chest muscles.
“A whole lot,” you breathed, your smile turning devilish, “indeed. Such a lovely insight.”
Your fingers danced again over his chest, discovering the unknown territory. New land, never before seen by you or even thought about and yet, his chest and the beat you could feel right beneath through the skin, flesh and bones was everything you could focus on. A fast, unsteady rhythm, telling you so much more than any words could.
With every stroke, you dared to reach new skin. With every new stroke, Kakashi melted more and more, humming under his breath as he allowed you to explore him and his body. The hand on your hip was again relaxed, to the point it already felt natural to be touched like this. Touched by him.
His stomach trembled ever so faintly as your finger circled his belly button. Reacting to the careful, feather-light touches, the muscles moving right below the skin and fabric.
“Can I touch you?” you asked, voice breathless. Your eyes were fixed on Kakashi’s face, watching out for every little move. “Can I…?”
His nod came immediately.
Thank the gods. Your fingers slipped beneath the shirt, finally touching the warmed-up, rough skin directly. Again, Kakashi’s eye fluttered shut, while his invisible mouth parted for a soft groan of rapture. Now, you could feel everything, all the power you had over him in the palm of your hands, right beneath your fingertips. So close. You just had to reach out for it.
Thus, it came to a surprise when his hand propped upon your hip moved as well. Burning against the dip of your waist as he slipped upwards, up to the barrier of the bra you were still wearing.
A delicious shiver wandered down your spine. Oh yes, this was it. This was the moment.
However, Kakashi seemed to disagree. A sly smile flashed over his face—you could see it, in the way his eye crinkled and the mask wrinkled up and down—only to wrap his arm around your back and roll you on top of him.
A short gasp dropped from your mouth. “Kakashi, wha—!”
“Ssssh.” He was still smiling, innocent and yet looking like a handsome devil, up into your face. “Putting any pressure on your back would be a bad idea, even though you don’t feel the pain right now.”
He was right. Of course he was. Despite everything happening right now, he was still Kakashi. An undeniable bastard whenever he got the chance to be one. And of course, he had to be right now also.
“I hate it when you’re right,” you grumbled, “you’re just too smug about it.”
“Believe me, I’m not smug because I’m right currently.”
“Why then?”
“Because I finally have you where I wanted you for months now.” The hint of possessiveness in his voice was softened by his hands cupping your face. Curling around your cheeks like he was holding precious porcelain, his eye raking over your features, taking them in and burning them into his memory. His body beneath yours moved ever so slightly, muscles coiling and relaxing at your hips being pressed against his lower stomach.
Delicious friction. Another shiver wrecked your body, feeling the hard dick beneath his thin boxers and through your own underwear. It felt good, almost too good to be true. A moan crawled up your throat, but you buried it behind clenched teeth.
No time for this.
“Help me,” you demanded as you took one of his hands into yours, “help me with this.” Leading his hand upwards, you continued to stare into his eye, right until the fingertips hooked into the small opening between bra and skin; without a doubt already colored into the most painful blue and purple.
The invisible smile underneath the mask must be even wider than before. “Are you sure now I can lend you a hand?”
“Yes, I am!”
“Then,” his fingers didn’t need more than three seconds to single-handedly open your bra, “let me be the hand you need.”
Still caring for the bruise in your back, the man allowed his hands to wander while slipping the straps of the bra of your shoulders. Up to the back of your neck, feeling the sharp edges of the bones underneath your skin, flesh and muscle. One hand sliding up your upper arm, the ANBU tattoo almost burning on your skin as he followed the blood-red lines, the other wandering down to the middle of your back. Always tender, his fingertips scratching the bruised skin in the least painful way possible. The little flashes still made you gasp and close your eyes, leaving only the sensation of the pleasurable pain blooming on your back, and Kakashi’s dark chuckle.
“Yeah, that’s it. Even though it pains me to see you injured, this… Seeing you like this, I…”
“Shut up.”
And for the first time, Kakashi heeded your demand. Instantly, his mouth fell shut, the mask straightening and hands stopping, close to your shoulders yet again. But… But there was the tension still in the air, no defenses up, and the dick pressing against your stomach wasn’t letting up; even twitched full of unbridled interest.
“You like this,” you growled, “you like running your mouth off, hearing yourself talk. Well, I don’t want you to talk right now, got it?”
Hastily, he nodded.
“Good.” A rock of your hips, him closing his eye and muffling a moan in his own mouth. “Finally, you’re shutting up.”
Another roll of your hips. You bumped against the bulge and scooted closer, until your own hot core pressed down onto the erection with every breath you took. Kakashi grunted, threw his head back at the sudden touch, but didn’t utter a single word of complaint. For the first time ever, it felt like he took your words seriously, and you were immensely pleased by that.
“You need someone to counter your blubbering sometimes, huh?” you growled, rolling your hips back and forth to the rhythm of your own heartbeat, all the while watching how Kakashi grew more and more desperate, “Need someone to give you a bit of contra. Isn’t that right?”
“Fuuuuuuck, (Y/N), I—!”
“You need this.” You shoved your hips forward, feeling the dick throbbing between your bodies. “You need to be knocked down a peg or two. Maybe three, if I’m in the mood for it.”
“(Y/N), please, oh gods—!” Kakashi whined. A beautiful keen of sheer, raw, wanton abandon. His hands hurt as they tensed around your waist, but the pleasure of his hips jerking into yours in an unsteady, fervent rhythm overrode any kind of discomfort.
Not now. Head hazy with the power, you forced him to lay still. Your thighs flexed as you raised yourself off of him, away from the tempting seat in his lap, only to hover in a triumphant arc above Kakashi. His eye fluttered open, trying to just look straight into your face, but distracted by your hard nipples, rising at the cold air of the hut all around you.
A sight to see, you were sure. Of course, your body had its faults, but you never had been shy about it with the few people who had seen you naked and intimately. You were sure you were beautiful, but seeing the darkening of Kakashi’s eye and even the appreciative shine in them made you smile as a little bit of relief bloomed inside your chest.
It is also enough for him.
His fingers dug into your flesh. With every second you waited, the man beneath you grew more and more anxious, so captured by his own lust he didn’t see how much you liked to see him like that: trembling in his need for you.
“Don’t,” you warned him as you could feel his fingers flex once more, “don’t you dare end this fun for me. You’re following my lead now, got it?”
Another whine, but Kakashi stayed still and silent. Perfectly obedient, which made you coo as you bend down. It was your turn to let your breath ghost over his earshell, enjoying the mighty shiver running through his entire body.
“Perfect,” you whispered into his ear, “absolutely perfect.”
You bit your lip as you started again to roll your hips in a slow, steady rhythm. A tease, wave after wave washing onto his shore. And Kakashi answered. With low groans, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, hands gently laying on the curve of your waist, he allowed you to take more and more agency. His hands slipped lower again, his fingers were relaxed against your body as he mindlessly caressed your hips. Though, his tender fingers became more urgent in their ministrations as you watched how Kakashi spiralled deeper and deeper with you.
“I might be slower than you in battle, but this…” A kiss mouthed over the nape of his neck. “This is better enjoyed slowly. What do you think?”
“Oh gods…”
“Or I could speed it up? If you would like that…?”
His needy whine already betrayed what option he was hoping for, and at this point you had to agree with him. Slow was definitely better in this case; slow and languish, relishing in every little gasp, moan and throaty praise.
“Slow, it is,” you murmured as you peppered more kisses along his neck, “Alright. I got you.”
Thus, the slow rhythm continued. The delicious pressure against your clit made your own lust grow, but you kept your eagerness in check. Went on to roll your hips in a languid pace, forward and backward in a torturous pendulum. Slow and steady, even though the pleasure coiled deep in your guts. Soon. Soon, but you needed more.
“Come here,” you moaned out, more shivers running up and down your spine, “come to me.”
He didn’t need more than that. Instantly, his mouth caught yours and you moaned again in utter surprise when you felt his bare lips. His mask! He pulled down his mask and in your haste, you didn’t notice nor see anything!
Then, the experience of really kissing Kakashi simply overwhelmed your mind and you gave in. Gave in to the emotions and knowing now he carried the same emotions you had carried for him. With a low hum in the back of your throat and eyes fluttering shut, you kissed back, enjoying the sensations of his bare lips and his tongue, while the desire to learn about his unmasked features faded into the back of your mind.
His hands all over your back, barely trickling around the edges. Still tender, still soft, still careful with your injury as his lips ravaged you. His hips bucked up into yours, rubbing his clothed dick against your clothed core, messy in the execution and yet so powerful in his thrusts it made your skin tingle. A last flick of your tongue, then you pulled back, gasping when his hands squeezed your waist with subconscious strength.
“Fuck, Kakashi!” Hot breath crashed into your face, harsh wave after harsh wave. You sped up, your legs flexing as you pushed yourself off the ground, dragging your hot middle against his erection. A shudder, his grip tightening, a hitch in his breath, moans filling the air. It didn’t matter who was moaning. The only thing which mattered was the fact that he was here, with you, just like this.
Surprisingly, one hand on your waist wandered between you. There was only so much space he could play with, but just enough to rub your clit through the wet panties while his dark eye studied your features with an intensity you could feel dragging over your face.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned out, shuddered, went pliant against his body, “oh fuck, yes. Right there, there, don’t stop…”
Kakashi’s warm chuckle made your own pleasure spike up, so close to the desired peak you worked so hard for. Nothing else, no word from him. Just like you ordered him to do. Nothing but the hushed breaths drifted through the air as you continued your steady, quickly accelerating rhythm, while Kakashi’s fingers rubbed, teased and dug into your sensitive spot to bring you more pleasure.
It was unfair, that even though you seemed to hold the reins, it was so easy for him to overturn everything about the situation. Just with a few flicks of his ridiculously talented fingers, he managed to make you moan helplessly while your body twitched in the incoming onslaught of sensations he awakened in you.
Though, ever so suddenly, Kakashi stopped. Stopped completely, not a single move of his fingers, his face, his body. Only his dick still twitched, caged between your bodies and confined in his boxers.
“Why?” you whined. “Don’t stop now, I’m so close…”
It was so dark inside the hut you could only make out the shadow of his face; a sharp jawline here, a cheekbone there, the wing of his nose. Not that it was important, but the specks of his face you could see for the first time you saved deep within in your mind to puzzle them together when the right time had come.
“Should I,” he mumbled, the words caressing your lips in a mean tease, “now keep my hands to myself?”
“Shut up,” you moaned as his teasing, devilish fingers pressed down, “shut up and make me come!”
Thankfully, you didn’t have to order him twice. Another warm chuckle, only for his lips to search for your neck, while his fingers again did their dirty work. Pinching lightly, then rubbing in short, sharp circles around the damp patch of cloth. You gasped as the tension coiled further and further inside your lower stomach.
Nearly there. So close, so close and yet so far. In your despair to come, you writhed against him, moaning and gasping, only to inhale sharply when Kakashi allowed you to come with a wonderfully evil pinch of his fingers. A warm wave washing over your mind, the satisfaction and pleasure ebbing back and forth inside your head as you continued to sluggishly move your hips, still breathing in shallow breaths and riding out the last wonderful waves.
After a few more moments, in which you regained your mind from the tingly warm feeling inside your chest, you noticed the big predicament Kakashi was in. He didn’t come yet, but waited without uttering a single complaint for you to come down from your cloud he sent you up to.
Wordlessly, you fumbled with the tented front of his pants. Not even a moment later, his fingers closed around your wrist.
“Don’t worry. I always repay my favors.” Instead of being as grumpy and grumbly as you intended, the words came out all soft and hazy around the edges. The typical post-orgasm feeling lingering in your mind made you a soft mess; too soft to retain some of your bristly behavior.
Another moment passed by, then Kakashi released you finger for finger and allowed you to pull down the waistband of his boxers. When the hard dick was finally released and was enclosed by your eager fingers, he couldn’t suppress a little groan, deep down in his throat. A wonderful sound; one you wouldn’t mind hearing over and over, intermixed with growled curses and desperate groans of your name. Seeing Kakashi struggling beneath you, half mad with lust and lost to the sensations, begging for you to touch him…
That would be an option for later. Much later, back in the safety of the village, behind his bedroom door or your own, silenced by more than the silencing seals. Now, you wanted him to come, to experience the same hazy warmth you were living in at the moment.
When you closed your fingers around the part of his dick peeking out from his boxers, another shudder rummaged through his entire body. Though, no sound came from him, so you dared to go further. Sliding your hand downwards, feeling the gooey slickness coating his dick already, feeling the heat oozing off of him, feeling the veins and strange texture laying in your palm, together with the occasional twitch caused by your motions.
Another kiss breathed to his parted lips, then you started to move your hand. Ever so gentle, just as gentle as him when he spread the ointment all over your back. The slick noises were unbearably loud in the silence, only disturbed by your harsh, shared breaths. Up, to allow him to get used to your touch. Down, the skin moving beneath your hands. Up, faster than before, down at the same speed. A stable, steady rhythm; made to catch him from the previous high and slowly lift him up again.
Your other hand steadied you at his shoulder, his own arms bent backwards to shore himself from falling over. His chest was heaving, swallowing breaths before they would spill out and tell more about his state than he wanted to show.
“Don’t worry,” you whispered, “I got you.”
For you, it was more than a simple reassurance he also would get to come. For you, it was more than that. For you, it was all you could give to him at the moment. The unspoken promise to stand by him, to be with him, to argue and bicker and fight just like before, but with the chance for personal reconciliation afterwards. To act on your feelings, knowing he answered them, and being on the same page.
You hoped Kakashi understood that as well. For now, you weren’t brave enough to voice your emotions directly, thus you had to be satisfied with the way he jerked into your grip, hips bucking and hissing as you sped up gradually. With every stroke, you picked up, watching out for any sign of him being uncomfortable. But no, Kakashi only moaned, and you worked with what you had to make him feel good.
His peak came unexpected and silent, just like the man himself. One moment you were stroking him, still listening to his sharp breath, the next his dick twitched hard and spurted ribbons of white, sticky cum over your fingers. Three, four times, as you continued to pump your hand. His hoarse moan was music to your ears, so you didn’t let up until the last spurt dribbled over your hands and cooled between your bodies before letting go.
Kakashi was still breathing hard. Shoulders tense, arms behind and stopping him from falling backwards, head hanging low and hair hiding his face. There was nothing to say as you loosened your grip around his slowly softening dick, sticky liquid squelching between your fingers.
“Thanks,” you whispered, “this was…”
“Nice.” His hoarse voice broke the silence. “Yes, it was.”
A bit awkward. But fine, you understood that. Without leaving the protective cocon of the bed roll too much, you leaned over to the nearby backpack and searched for an already dirty cloth at which you could wipe off the excess cum. Quickly, you cleaned off your fingers and even dared to clean up his dick, still so sensitive a hiss escaped him as the rough cloth touched him. You could feel his eyes on you as you did so, but when you were finished and leaned back into his body, his mask was up again and his eye closed.
“Tired?” you asked.
Kakashi nodded slowly. Still, nothing else but that. Maybe he was just like that after sex: a bit distant, a bit standoff-ish. Maybe. For another moment, you waited for a word from him, but he merely nodded again, so you dropped the unspoken topic.
“Alright.” You slid down to Kakashi’s right side and tried to get comfortable. On your flank, the faint waves of pain wouldn’t bother you too much during the night, at least you hoped so. Though, you were still surprised to feel the man dropping his arm over your waist and one leg pressing from behind between yours. A loving embrace, spooning you from behind, protecting your blind spot and leaving his own wide open.
A cuddler. You grinned to yourself as you closed your eyes. Kakashi Hatake, the mighty Copy Ninja, Sharingan wielder and user of a 1000 Jutsu, was a cuddler. What an unexpected revelation, but certainly a welcome one.
Safe, secure and most importantly warm, you fell asleep, with the arms of the man you surprisingly had fallen in love with over banter and fighting around you.
~ X ~
Waking up wasn’t a graduate change for you. One second you were asleep, the next your eyes were wide open, your mind slightly hazy, but awake. Blinking rapidly, you looked around, as you didn’t feel Kakashi in your back anymore.
There, crouching over his backpack. The man was already dressed in a fresh set of clothes, but he was still rummaging through the depths of the bag. One weak cough from you made him look over his shoulder and raise one hand in a little wave.
“Morning.”
“Morning.” Curling up inside the bed roll felt great as it still smelled like Kakashi, so you indulged yourself for a short moment. “Did you check the parameters already?”
“Yeah. No samurai in close proximity. We are good to go.”
“Any energy bars left?”
“Yeah.” With a casual flick of his wrist, he slid a bar over the ground. It came to a halt right before the roll, like he calculated the exact amount of strength he needed to show off once more. “Eat quickly, I want to leave before the next blizzard hits.”
“Alright.” You were already unwrapping the flavorless bar, but his flat tone worried you more than anything. While you were eating, you continued to watch him as the worry grew more and more inside your head like a quickly brewing storm. This wasn’t like anything you expected. This was even worse than before! Shouldn’t his attitude be better? Shouldn’t it be better and not like this? Kakashi acted cold, literally giving you the cold shoulder by not even looking at you as you crawled out of the bed roll and into the direction of your hazardly discarded pile of clothes. As you were dressing yourself, the sore muscles in your back were faintly screaming, but the ointment still suppressed the pain to the point you could act without any hindrance in your movements.
You pulled your shirt over your back, with your pants still lying on the ground and vest right beside when Kakashi coughed himself to catch your attention.
“Yes?” You turned your head over your shoulder. “What is it?”
“About what…” Kakashi sighed; actually sighed. “About what happened yesterday. I’m sorry.”
Sorry. He was sorry about what happened. As you tried to comprehend what was happening, yesterday’s love-pink curtain over your mind rapidly lifting, Kakashi marched on, pulling at the strings to lift said curtain. “This wasn’t right from me. Not in this situation. I used you to… scratch an itch, so to speak. I shouldn’t have done that, considering we work well together and destroying this bond out of selfish reasons was… I should’ve put the mission first.”
The mission. The word echoed in your ears, mockery and cruel reality. The mission should’ve been first instead of Kakashi’s itch. You scratched an itch for him, while you thought… while you thought something beautiful was happening between the two of you. Something more, something bigger, something… lovely.
That wasn’t true, apparently. Through the pounding of your heart drowning your own thoughts, Kakashi’s words cut like a hot knife through ice, crystal clear and almost… bored, bored by the whole ordeal. “Although, yesterday was also… satisfying. I wouldn’t be opposed to repeat that experience, if you are up for it. I think we both could benefit from this.”
Such cool, calculated words. Well-thought and well-delivered, almost casual in the lightness of his voice. And yet, the words destroyed the little dream you built last night more thoroughly than any jutsu could. Kakashi didn’t love you, he just loved to fuck with you or fuck you, depending on his mood, and yesterday he did both at the same time.
You misunderstood. Misunderstood everything, interpreted when you just needed to look straight ahead and look at the man without the love-filled glasses tainting the vision. He never said anything about love, didn’t say much overall. The surest you could be was the physical attraction he harbored for you and nothing else, and that was it. The entire truth, laid out bluntly in front of you and you decided to make up something to satisfy your own childish need for romance.
A dry laugh rose in your chest, but you pushed it back down. Squashed the need to cry out as you stood up and started to pull on your pants, not noticing the coldness or the pebbles on your arms, or the pull in your back as you stared at the ground.
“Sure,” you heard yourself say, “Sure. Yeah, it was nice. We can do it again, yes.”
You didn’t hear his relieved sigh, didn’t notice the weak nod, didn’t see the shadow in his eye. You were too busy shielding yourself from the hurt waiting already around the corner, in the near future, when Kakashi would inevitably ask for another round.