To Possess

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: Kamijyo-sensei owns them. If I do, Yukimura will probably be the most shameless sex god in history.

Note: because I’m distracted and people need to have more of them making out, yes.

There were only two conditions that could stop Yukimura from running after a woman. The first was when he was being too drunk to notice his surrounding, which he often did when the Sanada Head knew he was in capable hands. In other words, he allowed himself to be drunk when the Jyuuyushi was around. That way his safety was guaranteed. If anything, this proved to be one of the most troublesome problems that would give Saizou the world’s most annoying headache and prematurely aged him faster, but his devotion made Saizou never able to say ‘no’ to Yukimura.

The second was, however, when he was being too mortally wounded.

Just like now.

Sasuke snickered sarcastically from his place on the windowpane, knowing that his master was fully awake even if it was dark in Yukimura’s room.

Yukimura tried to raise his head from the cushion but found himself unable to. The tight bandage around his torso and neck that Kosuke had tied before efficiently prevented him from doing so. “Ah, Sasuke. Come here?”

Sasuke hopped down from his place to Yukimura’s side. The purplish notch on the older man’s left arm had disappeared perfectly by now, but a scar marked the area where a poisonous arrow had penetrated the skin. It was ugly. Sasuke hated it. Yukimura was supposed to be beautiful, and beauty did not deserve such a blemish. “Admit it; you’re flawed.”

“I’m flawed.”

He blinked and blinked and then scowled. Sitting near Yukimura’s head, he scowled some more. “Now you say that. Is it easier to say it when you’ve had a nearly death experience?”

“No easier than asking for your forgiveness.” A faint smile grazed Yukimura lips. He then chuckled lightly. “Ow.” He winced as the chuckle rippled the sore muscles in his torso. “Sorry. I’m sorry—ow.”

“You’d better be.” Sasuke turned his head, not wanting to look at Yukimura’s face then lower his wall so easily.

“Hey,” Yukimura called softly, his healthy arm rose to take a hold of Sasuke’s chin. “I’m here. Don’t look away.”

He could not help asking, “Why?”

The smile turned into a grin, a bit forced but still had the same amount of affection and gentle teasing that made Yukimura Yukimura. “Because I feel lonely when I can’t see your face.”

Something inside Sasuke snapped. Its multiple pulls coiled away from the base of his stomach only to crawl all over his body, reaching his throat up there and his groin down there. It first began as a warm, welcome spiral of emotion, like the spiral of leaves coming to sight when he performed one of his jutsus, but then it turned into something burning, demanding and hungry. A myriad of luscious emotions, tantalizing and beckoning, danced in Sasuke’s eyes. He did not want this alien hunger mixed with anger and a little bit of loneliness, but he welcomed it nonetheless simply because he did not know where to go to find any hold right now.

Shut up, he cursed the pull silently. Shut up.

Languidly he moved to put both of his palms on both sides of Yukimura’s head, bracing himself above the Sanada Head.

“It’s your own fault,” he whispered, his voice rough and tight. “Your fault that you’re hurt.”

“My fault,” Yukimura paraphrased smoothly, this time smiling once again. Sasuke knew that his master was quite familiar with this, and he wanted to believe that Yukimura could handle this. After all, Yukimura was the one who advocated this kind of game first, only at that time it was him lying dormant, wounded, and Yukimura the healthy one.

“Says a man who almost lost his head stupidly during a raid.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll bring me with you next time.”

“I—” Yukimura hesitated, then, “I promise I’ll be more careful next time.”

Swallowing a low growl, Sasuke brought his head lower, his lips ghosting over Yukimura’s. The image of his master, barely conscious, in Jinpachi’s arms two days ago flashed in his mind. It was enough. During the fight with Chin Mei, Yukimura had sternly admonished him for not listening to the older man, and he had tried to behave himself ever since. But it was enough now, indeed. Yukimura too would have to listen to him from now on. No more endangering his own life unnecessarily just because of his duty to the clan or to the heavy name he bore. To hell with the clan, Sasuke cursed. The clan would not perish—Yukimura’s brother Nobuyuki would make sure there would be a Sanada even if the ones in Mount Kudo vanished, but Sasuke surely would not survive without his master, his beautiful master. Not in physical sense simply; it was deeper.

He was still shaken by the event two days ago. He knew and accepted the fact that all living being would die, but he did not want Yukimura to die alone. He did not want Yukimura to just go like that, all quiet and unknown to those who loved him.

“You will not leave me,” he whispered against Yukimura’s lips, his own quivering with the intensity of being this close once again, this raw simplicity of being with his World, his Universe, his Everything.

Yukimura inhaled a breath from Sasuke’s mouth, lips parting to give the tip of his tongue a way to meet Sasuke’s still closed lips.

Sasuke leaned aback only to nuzzle Yukimura’s neck, that graceful column he would never be bored to explore. Sighing, Yukimura turned his head aside to give more room for Sasuke. Being in control, Sasuke took a hold of Yukimura’s healthy arm, entangling their fingers, letting his fingers slide down his master’s palm to the wrist and back to the palm again, clutching firmly. He could feel Yukimura clutch back as his thumb moved in slow strokes at the back of said hand.

“You will not leave me,” he repeated again, lips trailing down towards the dip between Yukimura’s collarbones, his tongue following behind. “I will not be abandoned.”

Chin. In his younger days, he was used to having his master jumping him in childlike fashion, Yukimura resting his chin on the crown of his head then. Jaw. He remembered and knew well the Sanada Head’s feature, his smooth curve, his firmness. Cheek. The one part of Yukimura that he—and Nobuyuki—inherited from the late Masayuki; high-boned and elegant. The muscles in said cheek tightened as Yukimura’s breath got hitched in his throat when Sasuke’s lips adored the soft skin there. Oh how he could adore Yukimura’s facial feature alone for hours.

Sasuke hardly knew much about the art of kissing until Yukimura came into his life. It took times for him to understand how personal a kiss really was. Humans can have sex as much as they want, but it’s hard to kiss someone they don’t love, Yukimura had once told him. It was the first time Sasuke knew the feel of someone’s lips on his own. How he craved to have that taste again at that time, to be made a man by his Everything. He had been accustomed to that kind of craving, but not the one like he had right now. It was different; it was more intense in every sense. Yes. Today’s kiss was not a simple kiss of passion or want.

Propping himself on one elbow, Sasuke drew closer and closer. The tip of his tongue touched one corner of Yukimura’s mouth. Yukimura turned to meet his mouth better, but Sasuke wanted this man to understand this, to tell him what he did not know. He pressed a thumb against Yukimura’s chin, forcing his master’s mouth to open. His other hand let go of Yukimura’s hand, creeping toward the base of Yukimura’s skull, fingers curling tightly around a fistful of soft hair on the older man’s nape.

“Breathe.” He did not simply say the word; he breathed it into Yukimura’s mouth. He wanted to remind the older man of his taste, of how important he was to him. If needed, he wanted Yukimura to take his breath, to inhale the life off of him. His life did not matter; Yukimura’s did.

Eyes fluttering close, Sasuke sealed the gap between their mouths.

His tongue touched Yukimura’s, inviting, demanding, twirling around to probe and taste. The hand on Yukimura’s chin left to delve knowing fingers in the soft, black hair on the side of Yukimura’s cheek, strands of hair slipping through his fingers, yielding to stray wildly against Yukimura’s cheek. Sasuke flattened his palm to cover Yukimura’s ear. “Breathe,” he said again, panting a little, nibbling at Yukimura’s lower lip.

“Sasuke.”

“Say it again,” he growled. “Say my name.”

“Sasuke,” Yukimura whispered low in his throat. “Sasuke...”

Only this man could make his name sound that beautiful, that perfect, making it much more bearable, if not likeable, for Sasuke who once happened to hate his own name.

Forcing down a growl again, Sasuke used the hand on Yukimura’s nape to yank his master’s head backward. Yukimura’s hand brought his head down to follow, deepening their kiss. Sasuke silenced another gasp coming from the older man by pulling Yukimura’s tongue into his mouth, sucking eagerly, inhaling Yukimura’s breath this time, wanting and needing more. He was careful not to put any pressure on Yukimura’s bandaged limb thus worsen the injuries, but he did need to feel more of Yukimura’s heart beating against his chest as they pressed close to each other, of the luscious mouth devouring his, of the blood thrumming in Yukimura’s veins and of the desire ringing in his ears, to assure him that Yukimura was alive, there with him.

A half-disappointed moan ensued from his master as he pulled away, panting loudly. The hand on the back of his head gently pushed him to rest his forehead on the joint between Yukimura’s shoulder and neck. Ignoring the faint wince when Yukimura struggled as he weighed the older man down, Sasuke released his hold on Yukimura’s hair. “I will not let you go,” he hissed onto the damp skin, lips tasting everywhere they could reach. “I don’t want you to let me go either.”

He could feel a smile formed upon Yukimura’s well-kissed lips on his temple. “Why the possessiveness now, Sasuke?”

Sasuke frowned. So that’s it; the name to this sudden hunger.

He understood just now.

“Only kissing tonight?” his smiling master teased. “More?”

“No.” He lifted his head, staring into Yukimura’s eyes, fingertips dancing gently on Yukimura’s cheek, brow and the bridge of his nose. Beautiful. His. His. His. “Not until you get better.”

“Now that’s unfair, you know.”

“Don’t be greedy.”

“Says a man who’s busy swallowing my tongue just ago,” Yukimura retaliated back easily using Sasuke previous words, the teasing mood gleaming in his eyes. “It’s not that—ow—ow...”

The ninja quickly pulled himself a distance, this time checking his master’s wound more closely. Fortunately, none had reopened. Sasuke almost slapped himself hard for throwing all common sense aside only to satisfy his need, but Yukimura knew better—like ever. Before Sasuke could do anything, he reached to take one of Sasuke’s hands in his.

“Don’t, Sasuke.” Despite the hurt, that certain smile also returned. Sasuke could almost hear the unspoken ‘Don’t blame yourself for all of these.’ “I like it,” Yukimura said. “I like this. I like it when you’re,” Yukimura’s smile turned slyer, “honest.”

It’s only because I’m selfish, Sasuke thought dryly. I’m selfish and can’t get enough of you. He flipped his hand quickly, bringing Yukimura’s hand to his lips. He kissed it once, twice, then lapping his tongue on its palm before kissing its fingertips one by one.

Yukimura cringed again as he laughed.

“Serve you right,” Sasuke grumbled. He decided to leave, or else he would not know whether his sanity could hold. Stopping on the windowpane, he looked behind. “Rest. I’ll be guarding outside.”

“Sasuke?”

He waited.

“You’ve said what I always want to say,” Yukimura said softly, whole-heartedly.

Oh.

“I will not let you go. I don’t want you to let me go either.”

A tender smile appeared on his lips as he disappeared onto the rooftop.