Author: Carcinya (Isolde on Fanfiction(dot)net)
Author E-mail: carcinya(at)aol(dot)com
Category: Angst/Romance
Keywords: Naruto Iruka Kakashi
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None.
Summary: It was a lost battle from the start. Drabble, IruKaka
Disclaimer: This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by Masashi Kishimoto, various publishers including but not limited to TV Tokyo. The song and the plot are mine. No money is being made and no copyright infringement intended.

Now, now, people. If Naruto was mine, do you really think I'd be sitting at my computer, sipping bad coffee, and writing bad fanfiction? Honestly.

Author's notes: I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistake there might be in this story. I am French, and still only learning the beautiful language that is English. Any comments are welcome, but obviously flames will be used to roast marshmallows. Or flamers.

I just had to write it. Sorry. Am still working on TSB8, of course, and my long-overdue Xmas one-shot.

"Everything", the sequel, is on its merry way.

Oh, and... It's IruKaka, by the way. My not-so-secret kink! grins wickedly

"Anything" - Kakashi (358 words)

It was a lost battle from the start.

One day, staring into defiant, endless brown eyes, you understood.

You are Jounin, and Jounin know these things. There would be no escape; that was it. What you had dreaded, what you had yearned -- yes, that was it.

You love him and you hate him.

He is nothing -- a clanless, low-level Chuunin --but you cannot ignore him.

You are the famed, feared Copy Ninja -- you could break that frail, smooth neck with but a careless flick of the wrist. But instead, as you hand him your long-overdue mission report, you cannot help but imagine that very body above yours, pleasuring and filling you, his breathing labored; his hands roaming on warm, sweaty skin and yours tangled in his long, dark hair; and his mouth...

He makes you feel helpless, and you hate it, and you crave it.

Would you cling to his back shamelessly, whimpering and moaning without restraint? Would you beg him to fuck you? Would you drown into his eyes as he thrust forcefully inside of you?

You cannot prevent a light moan from escaping your lips and your thoughts.

He looks away.

You know he will never spare a glance at you. But if he ever did ... If he but asked, you would lie on the floor readily, spread your legs and let him take you, take you like you have taken so many others.

You would do anything.

You have a feeling he knows this. Which is probably why he does not look you in the eye -- never. You could pursue him, seduce him, but you won't.

You want him to claim you.

You have fought all your life, and you are tired of it. You think it's only fair. You would give him what you have given no one else -- yourself. It is not much, but it is all you have.

If he would just ask, you would do anything.

But he never will.

And sometimes, you think perhaps it is better this way.

Some battles, after all, are not meant to be won.

This one was lost from the start, really.

-- end --