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Kakashi and Naruto are in the Land of Iron, carrying a message from Tsunade to her counterpart in Kumo, when the Iwa ambush finds them.
The battle is intense, but it doesn’t take long to turn the tide in their favor; the Stone jounin are skilled, but the two of them are on another level, kage in everything but name, and any advantage numbers might have given to their enemy is immediately forfeit by Naruto’s use of shadow clones. Kakashi doesn't know how Iwa was able to find them - how they even knew to look - but that's a problem for later. For now, the thrill of battle sings through him, sharpening his reflexes, pushing him harder and faster. This diversion won't slow them down for long.
The moment that everything changes is so swift, so sudden, that Kakashi almost misses it. Chidori is screaming around his fist, the chirping of chakra echoing off the walls of the snowy ravine they’re cornered in, when Naruto gasps. It’s not the pain that catches Kakashi’s attention, that makes him hold his breath even as he puts his fist through a warm-beating heart, but the silence. After a decade of fighting alongside him, it’s instinct for Kakashi to listen for the faint pop of dispulsion that follows every injury, the quiet confirmation that Naruto himself is fine, if down another clone.
Kakashi waits. And waits. The pop doesn’t come. At the enemy nin’s feet, blood stains the snow.
A deafening crack finally splits the air, smoke hazing the ravine as Naruto’s clones vanish all at once, his control over his technique gone.
The world bleeds scarlet.
Kakashi has never been one to lose control of himself on the battlefield. When he kills every last nin wearing Iwa’s symbol and leaves their bodies steaming in the biting air, it is intentional, calculated, deliberate. He has never been more in control of himself than he is when he cuts through the man that had struck Naruto down.
It’s only once he’s surrounded by corpses, chest heaving, his breath clouding around him in a foggy mist, that that perfect control cracks. He shudders, hands knotted into fists, blood dripping from his knuckles to carve trails through the snow.
Naruto. He needs to help Naruto.
Kakashi doesn’t have to search for him in the pile of bodies - he already knows where he is. He always knows exactly where Naruto is, a sixth sense developed for a troublemaking twelve-year-old and honed by a hot-headed young man determined to take the world’s suffering upon himself. He’s older now, steadier, but even if he no longer needs the protection, Kakashi hasn’t been able to bring himself to put distance between them. He always finds some excuse to stay close; he wishes this one hadn’t served itself up on a silver platter.
Naruto isn’t moving when Kakashi drops to his knees beside him. He’s splayed out on his back, eyes closed, blood and slushy snow smeared over his cheek and darkening the sunlight glow of his hair, and even to the Sharingan he’s too still, his chakra fading into the ambient energy of the world around him.
Emergency aid should be second nature to someone who has spent his entire life in battle, but Kakashi’s mind is blank. His hands are shaking. He squeezes his eyes shut, grits his teeth, reaches for the iron will that has seen him claw his way out of every bloody hole and dark place he’s ever been forced into, that has kept him moving through loss and grief that have shattered his world time and time again. He blows out a slow breath when he finds it, ignores how brittle it feels.
His first priority is to stop the bleeding. Naruto’s jounin vest is a mess, stained scarlet and sticky by his heartsblood, and Kakashi rips it open without fanfare. He'll be annoyed that it's ruined, but they can always get him a new one. Hell, Kakashi will give him his own so long as he wakes up to complain about it. The shirt underneath is in even worse shape, but when he cuts it apart he doesn’t immediately find any wound. His fingers slip through blood as he skims them over Naruto’s heart, searching, but he can’t find any sign that the short, cursed knife the Iwa nin had been wielding had found its mark. His skin is burning hot and whole, as unmarred as it’s always been.
How? Naruto heals fast but even the Kyuubi shouldn’t be capable of fixing a knife to the heart so quickly and - and he’s still so still.
Kakashi’s eyes fly up to his face, pale and snow-dusted, but this time he finds what he’d missed in the unfamiliar clamor of his panic: delicate orange pigment, blooming over Naruto’s eyes. Sage Mode. Naruto is healing himself.
Kakashi slumps over him, relief severing the strings keeping him upright. Of course he is, of course he wouldn’t let some second rate Stone shinobi get in the way of his dream, but in the panic of the moment the only thing Kakashi had been able to register was his silence. He’d lost control.
He never loses control.
“Maa,” he sighs quietly, tone careless, hands trembling over Naruto’s heart. He still feels like he’s going to shake right out of his skin. “If you wanted me to do all the work, you could have said. This is dramatic, even for you.”
“You woulda said no.” A shudder of surprise and relief works its way up Kakashi’s spine when Naruto speaks, one sly yellow eye cracking open. His voice is a weak rasp, and Kakashi almost wants to ask - almost wants to know - how close they’d come to too close, but every shinobi knows that some information only serves to hurt and Kakashi’s been trying to get away from self-flagellation, lately. “Prob’ly woulda left me to do it all as a teaching moment or somethin’.”
“Mm. That doesn’t sound like me.”
The husk of Naruto’s laugh vibrates through the fingertips still resting on his skin, stirring an echoing thrum in Kakashi’s heart. “Gimme a minute,” he says, eye slipping shut again. “‘m almost ready to move.”
“No rush,” Kakashi tells him, placid. It’s more effort than it should be to take his hands off of him, to drape them casually over his knees. He’s glad that Naruto can’t see the tremor in him, the unsteadiness where he has always been steel. “It will only cost us our lives and Konoha’s tentative standing with the other countries if we’re caught here.”
Naruto makes an irritated noise and tenses like he’s going to sit up, and maybe he should let him, should hurry him along and get them far away from here before Mifune can catch wind of shinobi business being conducted in the Land of Iron, but the younger man’s lips are tinged blue from cold and blood loss and Kakashi still doesn’t feel like himself, strangely brittle.
“It’s fine. I’ll deal with the bodies, and then we can backtrack to the inn we passed before. Taking the night to recover isn’t going to change anything.”
It’s not meant to be a lie, but he can’t shake the feeling that maybe everything’s already changed.
-
He can hear Naruto moving around their shared room before he reaches the door and he pauses in the hallway, heart thrumming in his throat, listening to the rustle of fabric and the gentle slosh of water as the younger man cleans himself up. It’s always striking, how quiet Naruto can be when he’s alone.
Kakashi has no secrets from himself. He’s known for a long time that his feelings for Naruto - his affection, his interest - extend well beyond what’s acceptable for his position in Naruto’s life as his friend and mentor, and he’d resolved years ago that he would never act on them. His reasons are many and varied, but what they all boil down to is that Kakashi is a relic of a painful past that is finally, rightfully, fading, and Naruto is the future, bright and strong. He’s proud just to stand behind him, protecting and guiding him. He doesn’t need anything else.
He can be content with this, can make himself be content with this.
What he should do here is obvious. He should turn around, exit the inn, and stand watch. He should let the cold air clear his head and cool his blood, and turn him back into the man he was when he woke this morning. That man had watched the dawn break across the gentle contours of Naruto’s sleep-soft face and had resisted the urge to reach out for him the way a tree resists a summer breeze; warmed by the sensation but unable to bend to it.
He’s bending now, splitting down the middle. He can almost hear the crack of wood.
He doesn’t leave. Naruto is standing near the window when he slides back the door, shirtless and glowing in the low light, drawing a damp cloth up the sculpted planes of his belly and over the swell of his pec, wiping away blood.
The moisture makes his skin shine. Kakashi’s teeth ache.
“Sensei?” Naruto asks, lifting his head to look at Kakashi, frozen in the doorway. His voice is the same husky rasp it always is but like this, in this setting, all darkness and bare skin and candlelight, with Kakashi’s fingertips still burning with the memory of touching him, it works its way down Kakashi’s spine in a sultry drag. The sensation makes him shudder, makes his heart beat heavy.
He doesn’t know if he makes the decision to cross the room or if his body does it for him, but one moment he can’t move and the next he’s catching Naruto’s wrist, stilling his movement, stepping into his space. Naruto’s hitai-ate is missing and his unbound hair is soft around his upturned face. He blinks up at Kakashi with a puzzled little scrunch between his brows.
“Kakashi?” he says this time, and Kakashi swallows, feeling the flex of tendons under his hand. Naruto’s body is loose and relaxed, comfortable and trusting even with Kakashi so much nearer to him than they ever are, and Kakashi should pull away but he steps closer instead. The heat of Naruto is insane, like standing next to an open flame, like a close call with a fire jutsu: like Kakashi is one wrong move from being consumed.
In the end, he makes that move himself, touching Naruto’s face. Naruto’s jaw fits into the palm of his hand; his lips part at the press of Kakashi’s thumb. He gasps, breath warm and wet over his skin, and reaches up to grip Kakashi’s wrist in return, and they stand there like that, bodies close, clutching one another, neither of them moving as time slows to stillness around them.
Of the two of them, Naruto has always been far more brave. He proves it now, fingers tightening, pressing firmly over Kakashi’s pulse, and he must feel the way it trips over itself, the clumsy rush of it, because he laughs, a pleased little ‘heh’ Kakashi’s heard a hundred times before, and lifts Kakashi’s hand higher, nuzzling into his calloused palm.
“Huh,” he says. His lips drag over Kakashi’s skin when he continues, “I didn’t know you wanted this.”
“You don’t want this,” Kakashi replies, and he means for it to be a statement, a warning, but he can tell from the gleam in blue eyes that Naruto can hear the question in it.
“Says who?” The curl of his smug smile into Kakashi’s palm is distracting, but he doesn’t miss the way the younger man moves that little bit closer until his elbow bumps Naruto’s chest. Every sense he has screams in awareness at their proximity.
Kakashi wants, so badly, to be unaffected by this, by him. A better man would be. A better man wouldn’t dishonor his sensei’s memory by longing for his son.
“Everyone would know it if you did.” He keeps his tone light but it’s pointless, a useless attempt at nonchalance when Naruto can feel his frantic heart, can see the heat in his gaze. Naruto’s smile widens further, a fox’s grin. He knows Kakashi is caught.
“Why, ‘cause everyone knows everything about me? Is that it?” Naruto releases Kakashi’s wrist to reach for his face, fingertips toying with the seam where the thin fabric of his mask meets the arch of his cheekbone, and heat swoops through his belly, swift and sudden, a matchstrike to the desire he’s been swallowing down for years. “Don’t you know me better than that, Sensei?”
The truth of Kakashi is this: he wants Naruto far more than he has ever wanted to be a better man. This is his breaking point.
He releases Naruto’s wrist, wrapping his arm around his waist to pull him flush against him, and tilts the younger man's head back with his other hand, holding him in place, making him meet Kakashi’s eye. “Say it plainly, Naruto. Tell me you want this.”
Naruto’s gaze is steady, full of the unshakable faith in himself and in Kakashi that has always been his most defining trait, no trace of doubt anywhere to be found. If there were no signs that he’d been interested before, they’re impossible to miss now: the dark interest in his eyes and the flush in his cheeks, the stirring Kakashi can feel against his hip. When had Kakashi stopped looking underneath the underneath? There’s always been more to Naruto than the heart on his sleeve.
Well. That willful blindness is over now. Naruto drives the final nail into its coffin when he squares his jaw and says, “I want you, Kakashi-sensei,” like a challenge. There’s a familiar fire in his gaze. “In every way. If we do this tonight, you better be ready to give me everything, ‘cause I’m not gonna settle for just this.”
Kakashi leans down, pressing their foreheads together and drawing a deep breath in, grounding himself - in the moment, in Naruto. “Then you’ll get everything, Naruto,” he promises, voice dark. “And you’ll give me everything in return.” He feels the other man’s shudder, the way it works its way through his body, pressed all along the front of him, a quake that sends shockwaves through Kakashi’s limbs and the caged beast of his heart.
For the first time in his life, Kakashi lets go.
He pulls Naruto more firmly against himself, palm pressed to the small of his back. Naruto arches beautifully, spine curving, offering himself up to him. The new angle presses the swell of his clothed erection against him and Kakashi grinds forward, rutting against it, eager for Naruto’s reaction. He doesn’t disappoint, groaning loudly, his head falling back and hips rolling, seeking more friction.
“Kakashi,” he pants, and somehow Kakashi isn’t ready to hear his name in that voice, broken in the middle by a gasp as he finds just the right angle to rub him off. Kakashi’s been struck by lightning before; it shouldn’t surprise him that Naruto has the same effect - his heart stills, his body tenses, his mind goes blank. He would swear that his ears are ringing, but he thinks that maybe that’s just the echo of half a decade’s worth of fantasies, finally come true.
“Again,” he demands, and growls when Naruto doesn’t immediately obey, too busy grinding his hard cock over Kakashi’s, thickening rapidly in his pants. “Naruto.”
His name gets his attention at least, and he opens blue eyes, finding Kakashi’s almost immediately. He looks half-gone already, lost in it, his scarred cheeks flushed scarlet, sweat catching the ends of his hair at his temples. His lips are parted, breath gusting over Kakashi’s masked mouth, and Kakashi can’t resist sliding his thumb up the hard plane of his jaw, hooking it behind his teeth. Naruto accepts him easily, tongue curling over his skin, and the way blond lashes flutter at the taste of him makes Kakashi’s blood boil.
“Say my name again.” Say my name and I’m yours, is what he means, but Kakashi has never liked to repeat himself. He’s already promised Naruto everything.
“Kakashi,” Naruto slurs around his finger, the word molten, dripping with arousal and something else, something bigger that catches at Kakashi’s heart and digs in deep. The shudder that wracks him is almost violent and when he drops to his knees, body dragging down Naruto’s with enough friction to start a fire, it isn’t entirely on purpose.
If Naruto realizes how weak he can make Kakashi with so little effort, he’ll never know peace again. Secretly, he thinks that maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
Naruto makes no attempt to hide his own reactions, body jolting and hips jerking in shock and arousal at suddenly having his sensei on his knees for him. He eagerly buries his hands in Kakashi’s wild hair, the muscles in his abdomen twitching under Kakashi’s hand as he spreads it over Naruto’s bare belly, thumb toying with the fastening of his pants.
“Mm, is this okay?” Kakashi asks, smiling when Naruto curses and jumps at the hot wash of his breath over sensitive skin.
“Asshole,” Naruto growls in response, hips chasing the sensation, fingers tightening in Kakashi’s hair, and Kakashi is rapidly losing interest in teasing him. This close, the smell of him is intoxicating, salt and want and musk, and he’s already long past his breaking point.
He doesn’t waste any more time getting Naruto’s pants open, peeling the dark fabric down his hips and the sturdy lengths of his legs. The material is damp with sweat and snowmelt, heavy with Naruto’s scent, and Kakashi’s head spins as he steps out of them and his boxers together, baring himself to him. He’s gorgeous, all gold and velvet skin, plush along the insides of his thighs. Kakashi fully intends to leave his mark on him, to paint that hidden softness purple and red from his mouth, his teeth, but right now it’s hard to think about anything that isn’t Naruto’s cock, flushed pink and tempting, thick enough to make his mouth water.
Kakashi leans in, pressing his covered nose to the underside of him and taking a deep breath. He parts his lips to curl his tongue against the fabric of his mask and groans, driven wild by the way he can almost taste him, the salt and metal of masculine arousal. He feels drunk on desire, slow to react when Naruto tightens the fingers in his hair and rocks his hips forward, his hands coming up too late to stop the younger man from grinding himself against Kakashi’s face.
“Fuck, Sensei,” he growls, and Kakashi peeks his eye open to look up at him, at his wide eyes and the hungry slant to his panting mouth. He flexes his hips, testing the strength of Kakashi’s hold, and a shudder visibly rolls through him when there’s no give, when Kakashi’s shoulders bulk and his fingers sear bruises into the thin skin over his hipbones. His cock twitches under Kakashi’s lips and he mouths at it, exploring the shape of it with his lips and his tongue until the barrier of his mask becomes unbearable and he has to hook his thumb in the fabric and peel it down, Naruto’s cock falling heavy over his bared face, sticky on his skin.
It would be a lie to say he’s never imagined finally showing Naruto his face like this, down on his knees, mouth framing his pretty pink cock. A thrill races through him and he nudges his hitai-ate up, struck by the urge to remember this encounter forever, every last detail. Naruto goes very still for a very long moment, and then his dick jerks sharply, thickening against Kakashi’s lips, his foreskin drawing tighter as a fat bead of precome wells from his slit.
“Shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, Kakashi.” His voice pitches higher when Kakashi grins up at him, flashing teeth, drawing out his name in a way that makes Kakashi feel dangerous, feel powerful, and he opens his mouth wide, making a show of dragging his tongue up the length of Naruto’s dick to catch the trembling pearl of fluid before it can fall.
Kakashi doesn’t know which is better: the taste of Naruto’s pleasure or the sound he makes, the way he can feel his stomach clench as the noise is wrenched up out of him. He seals his lips around his twitching cockhead, rolling his tongue over him, intent on getting more of both.
It’s been a long time since he’s done this - since he’s had more than a passing interest in anyone when their most defining characteristic is that they’re not Naruto - but it’s easy enough to set up a steady rhythm, laving him with his tongue on every pass until his spit drips down past his lips in shiny stands, easing the way for Kakashi to take more of him.
He’s thick enough to make his jaw ache, to make it a struggle to keep his teeth from getting involved, heavy and hot on his tongue, and Kakashi’s already addicted to this, to the taste of Naruto and the sounds he’s making, pants and groans and choked-out attempts at Kakashi’s name. He’ll never get enough of the way Naruto’s thighs jump and the muscles in his belly twitch, or how he tightens his grip on Kakashi, holding him in place as he pushes himself deeper, opening Kakashi wider for him until he gags around the fat head of his cock, until Naruto is giving him everything, just like he’d promised.
Naruto shouts at the feeling and Kakashi’s eyes sting. He can’t swallow his groan around the girth of Naruto’s cock; doesn’t even try. Naruto whines his name and curls over him as his voice vibrates through him, and Kakashi’s long been revered as one of the most dangerous men alive but nothing has ever made him feel quite as powerful as this.
“Sensei,” Naruto says, begging already, and Kakashi rolls his eyes up to watch him, greedily drinking in the dazed, awestruck expression on his flushed face as he hollows his cheeks and drags back off his cock, slow, until he can open his mouth wide and show him his head resting on his tongue, scarlet and dripping, framed by too-big teeth. Naruto shudders, staring at him like he’s caught in a dream, trapped in a genjutsu he has no desire to break, and Kakashi grins, digging his tongue into his sensitive frenulum until he sobs before he wraps his lips back around him and starts to blow him in earnest.
It’s messy. Kakashi has thought of this more often than he can bring himself to admit - his guiltiest secret, a desire so deep, so strong, that it has overwhelmed his control time and again in the dark privacy of his bed - and while he’d always known that Naruto would be overeager, excited and vocal, his fevered imagination had fallen short of reality. He’s so responsive, shaking under Kakashi’s hands and mouth, gasping and whining and rocking against his hold. Beads of sweat drip down the sculpted valleys of his torso and his cock is so wet, leaking and leaking no matter how many times Kakashi swallows him down, precome thick on his tongue and smeared across the backs of his teeth. It’s so sexy it makes him feel insane, like he’s going to burn right through his skin, every nerve alight, and he sucks at Naruto greedily, wet dripping down his chin and matting the sparse gold hair framing the base of his cock.
Kakashi’s never known himself to be the type to get cockdrunk but here he is, kneeling at Naruto’s feet with his mouth stuffed full, and every hazy half-thought is about Naruto, every sense overwhelmed by him, his taste and the salt-sharp smell of him, arousal and blood. Naruto is making these pained, desperate little noises, spilling out of his slack mouth like he just can’t help it, but Kakashi can barely hear him over the sounds his own mouth is making, sloppy and obscene and so wet, getting louder as his control fragments and his rhythm falls apart.
The muscles in Naruto’s abdomen are tense, clenching hard under Kakashi’s hands, and he’s getting thicker, cock pulsing harshly. He’s about to come, Kakashi can smellfeelheartaste how close he is, and he wants it, is suddenly starving for it, thinks maybe he’ll die if Naruto doesn’t give him his come, and now. He releases his hip to cup his sac, sticky with their mess, his balls so full and so tender, swollen with everything that he has to give him, with everything Kakashi needs, and that’s the last thing, the last push Naruto needed, because he seizes Kakashi’s hair and shoves himself into his mouth to the root, coming down his throat with a cry that can probably be heard in Konoha.
Naruto never does anything by halves, and this is no exception - he comes and comes and comes. Kakashi swallows what he can and then he wrenches off of his spurting cock and lets it spill off of his tongue and out of his open mouth, dripping down his chin to paint strings of filth across the front of his flak vest. The scent of it isn’t going to wash off easily; Kakashi is going to reek of their sex for weeks to anyone with the nose to pick up on it. The idea makes something in him howl in triumph, makes his dick give a demanding throb where it’s still trapped in his pants.
He’s sated one hunger, but now his own arousal comes roaring to the forefront and Kakashi shudders, fumbling at the fastening of his pants, made clumsy by the force of his overwhelming need. He gets as far as freeing himself, hissing at the chill of cold air against wet, too-sensitive skin, when the world spins and he finds himself laid out on his back, Naruto a sturdy weight on top of him.
“Sensei, fuck…so hot,” he’s muttering feverishly, ripping at Kakashi’s vest, and then he leans in close and drags his tongue, velvet-hot, over Kakashi’s chin, licking up his own spilled come. “Knew you’d be good but fuck, fuck, Sensei -”
He digs a hand between them, gets it wrapped around them both, the length of his cock stickywet, slick over Kakashi’s. He hasn’t gone soft, youth and the stamina of a jinchuuriki working in their favor, but he’s clearly sensitive, whining into the hollow under Kakashi’s jaw as he strokes them together.
“Naruto,” Kakashi growls, wild with want. He’s already on edge just from sucking Naruto’s cock, just from swallowing his come, and his body is in control now, mind just along for the ride. He doesn’t know he’s going to kiss Naruto until his hand is curved around the side of his neck, thumb pushed up under his jaw to raise his head, and the sight of him, ruined by desire, all dark eyes and a bitten mouth made messy by his own smeared spend, slots something into place inside of Kakashi. Something protective; something possessive.
Their first kiss is more gentle than anything they’ve done ‘til now, a sweet press of lips that makes Kakashi’s heart ache in his chest, affection a warm undercurrent to the animal need that drives him to fuck into Naruto’s grip and has his free hand mapping his powerful body, eagerly laying claim to him. That sweetness doesn’t - can’t - last. It isn’t long before the hunger becomes too much and Kakashi has to lick into Naruto’s mouth, has to claim him here, too.
Naruto moans around his tongue, sucking at it, and Kakashi snarls when he realizes that Naruto is tasting himself, chasing the flavor of his own pleasure in Kakashi’s bruised mouth. He knots his fingers into blond hair and hauls Naruto’s head back, saliva stringing between their open mouths.
“Filthy,” he growls, admiring the perfect, debauched ruin he’s reduced Naruto to, the way he shudders at the sound of Kakashi’s voice, cock spitting more wet into the squelching mess between them. He drags his tongue up the vulnerable line of his throat, tasting his pulse, mouthing kisses into tender skin. “Beautiful.”
He must find a sensitive spot, because a long shiver wracks its way down Naruto’s spine and he gasps, grabbing at Kakashi’s shoulder, his hair, with his free hand, holding him in place. Kakashi is more than happy to oblige him, digging in with his teeth, and Naruto spasms, fingers catching at his hitai-ate and knocking it to the floor.
“Fuck,” he gasps, hips rocking over Kakashi’s, the strokes of his hand turned erratic. Kakashi bites him again and he curses, pulling at his hair. “Sensei, shit, wait - I want -” He cuts himself off on a whine, mouth open, flush spilling down his chest and over his heart. “Fuck me.”
Arousal lances down Kakashi’s spine with all of the violence of a thunderbolt. He surges upward, rolling them over, pressing Naruto’s back to the tatami floor and pinning him there with a fierce thrust of his hips.
“Yeah,” Naruto chokes out, tearing at Kakashi’s clothes as Kakashi’s mouth finds his neck again. “Want it, wanted it for so long.”
Kakashi shudders, a vicious, full-bodied quake that prickles his scalp and curls his toes and vibrates in his teeth, and he sits back on his haunches, Naruto still trapped between his thighs, to shrug out of his vest and rip his shirt over his head. The mesh goes next, and Naruto’s hands are quick to find newly-bared skin, clever fingers mapping the sensitive stretches between silvery scars.
The pleasure of his touch is a shock and Kakashi gasps, leaning bodily into him, rutting his cock alongside Naruto’s, slipping through the slickwet mess of him, a groan rippling up his throat. It’s not like him to be so vocal, but he’s long since given up being surprised by all the ways Naruto surprises him. Of course things are different with Naruto - he’s always been special.
“Tell me you have something,” he demands, clawing at the wrappings binding his legs, and Naruto blinks up at him blankly, visibly struggling to keep his eyes off of Kakashi’s cock, his chest - his mouth. Kakashi can’t help but roll his shoulders back, letting him look. The appreciation has lightning sizzling over his skin and warmth pooling in his chest.
“What?” Naruto asks, and then gives his head a little shake. “Yeah. Right. Yes.” He fumbles for Kakashi’s discarded vest, snagging the heavy material and dragging it closer. “A good shinobi's always prepared.”
Kakashi pauses with his hips lifted, his pants pushed halfway down his thighs, watching in consternation as the younger man unzips his pack and rifles through his mission kit.
“Maa, what do you think you’re going to find in there?” Even as he says it, he remembers the small bottle of lubricant he keeps with his basic supplies. Sometimes violence isn’t the only way to get information - although in this case Kakashi has only ever used the lubricant to get one of his dog’s heads out of a discarded can. “Ah. Should I ask how you knew about that?”
Naruto shoots him a cocky grin, unearthing the lube from the mess of Kakashi’s mission kit he's spilled across the floor. “A good shinobi’s always prepared,” he says again. “Kaka-sensei is the best.”
His tactics are questionable but, as always, Kakashi can’t argue with his results. He shrugs and takes the lube from him, leaning back down to taste that self-satisfied smile, to bite punishingly at swollen lips. Naruto moans, licking eagerly at his teeth. He wraps his arms around him and Kakashi lets himself be pulled down until their chests knock together, Naruto’s heart beating fast and strong against his own.
They kiss, and Kakashi loses himself in it a little, in the slick, messy slide of their tongues and the way it feels to be given something he’d never, never thought he’d be allowed to have. He isn’t entirely sure how he got here - how he’d ever managed to pay enough penance for his past to get a shot at this kind of future - but Kakashi has never been one to waste an opening. Now that he knows he can have this, he isn’t going to let it go. Let Naruto go.
“Sensei,” Naruto growls, tearing his mouth away. He shoves Kakashi’s pants further down his legs and Kakashi obligingly kicks them off, blanketing Naruto’s naked body with his own and grinding their hips together, rough and dirty. “Shit,” he curses. “Quit makin’ me wait.”
There’s a flippant response on the tip of his tongue but Naruto spreads his legs for him, wide, and the force of Kakashi’s desire slams into him, a headrush that leaves him reeling. He pops the cap on the lube and dumps it over his fingers, rolling off of Naruto to stretch out along his side, then smooths his hand up a golden thigh, admiring the way heavy muscles jump under his touch.
Naruto arches, tilting his hips up in invitation, and Kakashi doesn’t waste time easing him into it, just presses his fingertips to the spit-slick swell of his perineum and drags them down to his twitching hole. He strokes over his rim in sloppy circles before easing into his body with the tips of two fingers, too impatient to take his time. Tension snaps down Naruto’s spine and he bares his teeth, and Kakashi dips his head to smear messy kisses up the arch of his throat as he gradually relaxes.
He’s less thorough, less gentle, than he should be, but Naruto doesn’t complain, sturdy enough to take the sting of Kakashi’s fingers working him open and impatient enough to demand more. Kakashi gives him what he’s asking for, pressing deeper. He’s just as eager as the younger man - maybe even more so. Naruto’s body is burning hot and tight, taking Kakashi greedily, and just the idea of all of that pressure around his dick makes him feel lightheaded, pulse hammering and stomach squirming with the need to get inside.
It isn’t long before Naruto is kicking at him, clawing at his shoulders and arm and demanding that he, “Fuck me already!” Kakashi bites one last kiss to the hinge of his jaw before he rolls back over him, pulling his fingers from his ass to catch the back of his thigh and push his leg up and out, opening his body wide. Naruto looks wild, chest heaving and face red, his tongue a tantalizing flash of pink in his panting mouth.
He’s beautiful. He’s Kakashi’s. Kakashi has to take him.
The first press of his cock to that loose rim has them both shuddering together. Kakashi thrusts forward, shoving himself inside, and Naruto shouts, head falling back against the floor with an audible thump. Kakashi’s body moves on its own, wracked by pleasure and an animal's need, rolling his hips away just to drive back in. He gets deeper this time, forcing Naruto’s body open, forcing it to take him, and Naruto curses and yanks at his hair until he gets the hint and leans down to press kisses to his chin, the shape of his jaw, his lips. It quickly devolves into a smearing of open mouths when the third fuck in gets more than half of his cock buried in him, and Naruto cries out, body surging up against Kakashi, who snarls and does it again, taking him, pinning him in place.
Sharp nails drag over his shoulders, his back, and the bite of pain narrows his focus, sharpens his senses, brings with it the intensity of the battlefield. Everything dials up to eleven: the smell of sweat and sex, the taste of Naruto on his teeth, the clutch of his body wringing at the base of him as he finally bottoms out.
It’s ridiculous to say something like it’s a perfect fit, but that’s what it feels like, like they’re matching pieces clicking into place, becoming one. Naruto is tight around him, hotter than the sun and even more bright, and Kakashi mouths fervent kisses down the tense line of his jaw, overwhelmed by the feeling. There is fire burning in his bones and lightning under his skin, and when Naruto growls his name he has to respond, has to draw his hips back just to drive in again, setting up a fierce pace to match the frantic racing of his heart.
Naruto quickly finds Kakashi’s rhythm, rolling his hips up to match each stroke so that he’s buried to the hilt every time. The meeting of their skin is sharp and loud, and still barely audible over the noises Naruto is making - the noises Kakashi is making, ripped up out of him every time he bottoms out. Naruto’s hole is greedy, clinging when he draws back, clutching at the head of him so that he can never pull all the way out before Naruto’s leg is tightening, shoving him back in.
“Sensei, Sensei, fuck, fuck me,” Naruto is babbling, so loud, drowning out every other thought, any other distraction, and Kakashi does, pinning the knee he’s holding to his flushed chest and humping into him again and again, trying to get deeper, to get so far inside of him that he’ll never be able to leave.
“Naruto,” he rumbles, and Naruto trembles beneath him, staring at him from under heavy lids, his lashes fans of gold shading the darkened skies of his eyes. “You feel so good. Fuck -”
He chokes on the word when Naruto seizes around him, body straining, cock blurting wet between them, slicking the slide of their bellies. His ears ring, spine turned to static, and he clutches bruises into Naruto’s leg, clinging to the precipice of his orgasm with everything he has while Naruto comes on his cock, sudden and vicious. It’s a near thing; Naruto’s body is doing everything it can to wring him dry, clenching over and over around him, tight enough to spark stars in his vision.
“Just from that?” he asks, breathless, head spinning. Fuck. He’s never been so aroused in his life. He tries to ease the pace, aware that Naruto’s probably oversensitive after this second orgasm, but the younger man snarls at him, baring sharp teeth, and Kakashi’s hips jerk, letting loose a mean streak of thrusts that has them both crying out. Kakashi’s arm seizes and he drops forward onto his elbow, fingers blanching white against the woven floor, still fucking in and in and in, helpless against his own need while Naruto shudders beneath him, shaking hard enough to come undone.
Kakashi buries his face in the curve of his neck, dragging his hanging tongue over thin skin to taste his pulse, to feel the drum of his heart in his mouth, around his cock, against his own. He bites again because he has to, because his teeth are buzzing, electric, and his mind is just haze. He bites because he needs to leave his mark on this man, to claim him in every way.
Naruto’s body writhes under his, thrashing in his hold, but he’s not strong enough in this moment to unseat him, made weak by Kakashi’s mouth and cock. Satisfaction roars through him and the animal in him resolves to keep Naruto like this for as long and as often as he can. He doesn’t need his strength when Kakashi is here to take care of him.
“Kakashi,” Naruto groans, voice broken around his name as Kakashi spears him open again. Between them, his dick is still hard and dripping. “Come inside me. Wanna feel you.”
Another truth about Kakashi: he’s never really gotten the hang of telling Naruto no. He’s never been able to deny him what he wants, and if he wants Kakashi’s come, well, Kakashi will give it to him - a flood of it.
He rears back, ignoring Naruto’s growled-out protest and the drag of claws down his sides, and pries Naruto’s leg from around his waist, draping it instead over his shoulder. When he drops back down, both of Naruto’s knees are pushed to his chest and his body is bent, folded in half and opened up wide, hips curled up in an offering Kakashi wastes no time taking advantage of. He shoves his cock back into his sloppy, used hole, bottoming out in one fierce thrust, and the new angle has Naruto howling as Kakashi gets him just right, wet spitting out of his twitching dick.
Kakashi snarls, eyes squeezed shut, hand fisted in Naruto’s hair just to anchor himself while his hips jerk over and over in mindless, digging thrusts, chasing his own pleasure and bullying Naruto’s prostate again and again until he’s sobbing. The younger man thrashes, overstimulated and overwhelmed, and Kakashi just keeps humping into him, fucking him like a dog.
It’s good, it’s so fucking good, and Kakashi can’t remember, now, why he denied himself for so long. Certainly not for Naruto’s sake: the boy is ruined by pleasure, sweaty and undone, his mouth bitten and his eyes glassy, lost in this, in the two of them together. The arch of his throat is a portrait of purple and the impression of Kakashi’s teeth, and with every fuck in more come drips from his swollen head, forced out of him in a steady stream by Kakashi’s merciless cock. He won’t come again, but that’s okay - Kakashi is taking what he wants anyway.
And still, in spite of everything, it’s Naruto who has all of the power, who reaches up to touch his face, trembling fingers catching on his panting mouth, the mole on his chin, and whispers, “Please.”
The precipice Kakashi has been clinging to dissolves right out from under him and he comes, white-light fire igniting in his gut to sear, blinding, up his spine. Sparks spray across his skin, setting every nerve ending alight, and his hips surge as wet heat spurts from his cock in fat, splattery streams, painting Naruto in his pleasure.
Kakashi drops his head, digging his teeth into Naruto’s shoulder until his mouth floods with the taste of copper, conduction for the electricity zapping up and down his spine, and his eyes roll back, teeth buried deep, holding Naruto in place, forcing him to take it as Kakashi fucks his come into his ass, too deep to wash away.
He can't stop even when the lightning-strike intensity of his orgasm quiets into sensitivity, when it spikes back up into the sharp-hurt shudders of overstimulation. He just keeps rutting into him, until his strength gives out and he's barely able to roll his hips, grinding his softening cock into the ruined mess of Naruto’s hole while his own hot spend floods out around him.
“Kakashi,” Naruto rasps when he can catch his breath, clinging to him, a hand cupped around the back of his head to keep him in place. “That was… whoa.”
Kakashi hums around his mouthful, slumping over Naruto as his hips finally still, the animal in him sated. He’s careful when he pulls his teeth from his skin, watching, quietly disappointed, as the bloody ring begins to close almost immediately. “Eloquent as always, Naruto.”
Naruto huffs then pushes weakly at his shoulder. “Dunno what that means,” he grumbles. “Git ‘ff. Yer heavy.”
“Maa, fucked the words right out of you, mm? I'll have to remember this trick.” Kakashi lets Naruto shove at him a little more before rolling onto his back, groaning in complaint. Naruto wastes no time in following him, plastering himself along his side. Their skin slides together, slick with sweat. “I'm getting too old for this.”
“Sure didn't fuck like an old man,” Naruto says, irreverent as ever but blatantly appreciative. Kakashi rolls his head down to look at him and finds blue eyes already fixed on his face. “Don't look like one either,” he adds with a sunny smile.
There's no trace of doubt or regret to be found in him, no unease in his expression or in the loose, easy sprawl of his body. If anything, he looks happier than Kakashi has seen him in a long time, and he can't help but wonder, a little regretfully, how long he's been making him wait for this.
Well, that's over now. If Naruto wants it to be.
“Next time,” he says carefully, feeling the way Naruto tenses, tentative hope in his eyes, “let's at least aim for a bed. Do my knees a favor.”
Naruto brightens like the sunrise, like daylight after darkness, and Kakashi’s pulse stutters, affection a fist around his heart. He doesn't think to keep it off of his face, unused to being laid bare the way he is now, but he can't bring himself to regret whatever expression he's making when Naruto’s eyes shine and his mouth softens with an adoration so deep and so full it almost hurts to look at him.
He's never seen Naruto make that expression, not for anyone or anything, and it signs the death warrant on any remaining doubts lingering in the shadows of Kakashi’s heart. This is so clearly what Naruto wants, and Kakashi will never be a good enough man to deny him. He would never want to be.
“We coulda fucked on the futon if you weren't so impatient.” Naruto’s smug smile curves wicked, grows more teeth. “I'll lay it out for the next go.”
Kakashi absolutely, positively, should not be considering a second round. His back is screaming and his knee feels hot and tender and that's not even starting to address the ache in his cock and the mess between them. On top of all of that, they need to leave before dawn brings questions about the dead Iwa-nin in the ravine or, worse, another squad out for their blood.
But Naruto is smiling up at him, heart thumping joyfully alongside his own, and Kakashi is done with denying him - with denying them both.
“Mmm. Think there's a soldier pill in that kit?” He wheezes when Naruto lunges off his chest, instantly scrambling through the scattered contents of Kakashi’s supplies. “Maa, I didn't mean now.”
He sits up, watching Naruto fist pump the air when he finds the pills. He's so enthusiastic, as shamelessly earnest in this as he is in everything, and Kakashi makes a show of sighing without any attempt at hiding his fond smile. Naruto’s body is beautiful, and when he kneels Kakashi can't miss the fat globs of his come dripping down the inside of his thigh.
Ah, well. If they start now there will be plenty of time to clean up before they have to leave. Maybe.
He gets to his feet, rolling the tension out of his spine and flexing the stiffness from his shoulders, and freezes when strong arms wrap around his waist. He turns slowly in the circle of them, meeting Naruto’s gaze, breath catching at the intensity in those eyes.
He's seen this look before, has seen the unstoppable determination that always follows close behind it. “We're gonna be happy, ya know,” Naruto says, with the same conviction that has shaken their world time and again.
“Is that a promise?” Kakashi asks, smiling, and Naruto laughs at him.
“You know it!” And, well. The final truth about Kakashi is this: he believes in Naruto. And he always will.