Once is Enough
by: Virgo


Rar. Sorry for the long wait, but my phone line decided to give out on me so I couldn't get on-line for damn near a week. Then I moved which put my internet cruising back another week. And, two weeks after, I still can't get on-line because of all this stupid shit that AT&T is putting me through. Stupid barracks.

Anyway, here's the final part (second part, whatever). Hope you all enjoy and I'll sit here, arguing with my computer^^;;

~*~*~

Iruka sat with a huff on his bed. He hadn't seen Kakashi all day. Not meaning that the jounin was avoiding him, but he had generally managed to pop by at least once a day. Except today. It made Iruka hurt to think about it. It hurt not seeing him, but he couldn't face the fact that he wasn't looking so hard for him merely to return his book. And it wasn't... /entirely/ because of the dream, either. Maybe because he felt too much? Whatever sense /that/ makes.

"Hmm..." he flopped backwards, arms and legs askew. "Where were you today, Kakashi?"

He had noticed the title had a habit of sticking to his tongue, not following the rest of his words and each time he heard himself say it- or rather, not say it -or watch someone raise a brow at his informality, he couldn't help but feel the rust of emotions.

"G'ah!" He flipped over to bury his face in the blankets. "Stop that! Don't be so stupid!"

He felt like- or as stereotypically similar to -a school girl with a crush on her instructor. Granted, he /was/ an instructor and most assuredly a /he/, but that didn't mean that Iruka wanted to feel the same way.

With a groan, he looked up and saw the hard, worn cover of Icha Icha Paradise snuggled comfortably in the folds of the blanket. An insane urge grappled with his modesty and sensibility and Iruka watched the insinuating cover. The simple title enticing him with their long, firm lines and sharp angles, fitting so well together.

His fingers sought out the book, fumbling with the tattered, dog-eared pages, softened by the love of tender fingers. Iruka scowled at himself for the thought- Kakashi would've laughed at him, jut like he did before. Iruka had taken an experimental sip from the same cup as Kakashi, surprised when he tried to give the drink back, the elder man cupped his hand over Iruka's own. "Isn't that an indirect kiss?" He had teased, chuckling when Iruka's face grew red, just as it was doing now.

"Hmph!" Picking out the marked page where Kakashi had last stopped reading, he opened the book. "I'm not some little girl. As an adult, I shouldn't be so shy about such things."

That said, he opened his eyes and read:

---

'She gasped as his hands traveled down her body, setting aflame her already burning skin. Sweat-slicked, his tongue arched lazily around her breast, making her quiver as the peak was eventually consumed in the moist cavern of his mouth. She begged, she cried desperately, wanting those fingers deep inside to thrust faster, harder, wanting him to fill her completely with his-'

---

The book clattered against the far wall, Iruka curled in the blankets, shivering. It wasn't so much what he read that made him feel... odd, but the sensations it invoked, the... memories. He could remember the voice in his ears, lips sliding down his body, fingers molding his body in writhing fire. It didn't so much as scare him as it did tempt him, a temptation that- right now -he didn't have the courage to deal with.

He wondered, watching the stoic book without seeing it, what Kakashi felt when he read those books. Does he feel the same temptations? Does he imagine those words caressing him like a real person would? Would he ever imagine that it was-

"Stop that." He told himself sternly. "Regardless what he does, you're just being stupid and letting your imagination get away with you. Were it anyone else in that dream, you'd probably be feeling the same thing."

If that were so, he thought, then why have you always felt more for Kakashi-sensei than anyone else? You think more of him than anyone before.

In his musing, he picked up the book again. "I'm not going to read it. I'll just put it aside and take it with me to tomorrow in case I see him again." But the words had already wrapped themselves around him, twirling him in an erotic play.

---

'Her kiss stole his breath away and he suddenly couldn't breathe without her lips on his. He held her tightly; supple breasts that slid against his bare chest and he couldn't take it. Watching her from afar, dreaming of her before he even realized it... He cupped her back, slender hips, grinding against his, feeding off her scent like some sort of animal. His world was solely her and he couldn't get enough of it, to surrender himself completely, to join with her, to forever be a part of her was something he could have only wished for. But here, now, she was real, pushing against him, bare skin against his, chest alive with each sweet kiss she dropped on him.'

---

Iruka knew the story from there. He knew the moans, knew the feelings. His chest felt too tight, the room too hot. He needed a release and behind his closed eyes, he could see that hidden face looming over him hungrily, clothed in darkness, even in his imagination. He may be sexually younger than most men his age, but he knew the need and knew how to deal with it as a hand slipped over his chest, pulsating with his rapid breathing that thrummed across his abdomen. Iruka leaned back, clasp to his pants undone, a triangle of sweat shone skin so enticing.

He couldn't take it anymore.

Iruka jerked in surprise at the tight hand around him, eager mouth on his. In a moment his eyes focused on the person- man, far too broad and angular to be female -whose breath mingled with his as they parted.

"Ka... Kakashi..."

"You don't know how hard it is," the older man growled between their lips, "to watch you touch yourself and not take you at that moment."

He didn't listen to a word said to him, just drowning in the fell and smell of Kakashi, the presence his existence was crying for.

Suddenly, Iruka pulled back. "N-No, wait..!"

He let out a frustrated sound. "Wait? For what?"

"I can't- I can't keep dreaming like this..."

"Dream? You think- Does /this/ feel like a dream?" He asked, cupping Iruka's-

"Stop that!" He pushed the wrist away. "How could you, after only once!"

With a lazy smile hidden in the dark, Kakashi said, "Once is enough."

"Enough for what?"

"Enough for me to know who I want to spend all my nights with." And he kissed him with such tenderness nothing else made sense to Iruka. He cried as Kakashi filled him, their bodies in perfect rhythm of thrust and pull, the perfect balance of tension, speed, heaven in the arms of another.

Kakashi kissed away the pleasurable-painful tears from Iruka's sleeping face, brushing lips against his cheek. He pulled back from the bed, slowly recollecting his clothes and redressing himself. It was hard trying to convince himself that leaving was for the best, that he couldn't stay to watch day break over Iruka's lovely face.

On the floor, Kakashi spied his book and reached for it. Then stopped. It was still there even when Kakashi no longer was.

Well, he figured, it'll give me an excuse to come by tomorrow night.