Kiba is soaked. His hair is unusually flat from the river water, body shivering violently, blood staining his coat as the red leaks from his stab wounds.
Drowned dog, Kankuro thinks.
Kiba cradles a mutt to his chest, eyes closed with a weak smile. His lips are turned upwards at the corners, revealing sharp canines that Kankuro suddenly wants to feel. Feral, wild, untameable. The words send jolts of want down Kankuro's spine, and he walks towards Kiba, slumped helplessly against a tree. He crouches down so he sits on his ankles, peering up into Kiba's face. He then reaches out a confident hand, tilting Kiba's chin up so he can inspect the red triangles more carefully.
Tattoos, Kankuro realises.
Kiba opens his eyes, and he smiles wider. He opens his mouth, and croaks,
"What do you want?" He pauses, and then adds, "Fag."
Kankuro snorts and his fingers touch those triangles, brushing thumbs over cheekbones, trying to smear the red into skin. He then lets his hands trail down Kiba's face, so he eventually touches neck, feeling tendons and muted strength.
"I'm collecting my dues." Kankuro says.
"Just try it." Kiba challenges.
As Kankuro leans forward, he doesn't flinch at all when he catches Kiba's fist in an open palm. The punch is weak, half hearted, and Kankuro realises that it's because Kiba's stronger right hand is still cradling the mutt. He leans forward, still, and catches Kiba's closed lips in a kiss.
They stare at each other,
...and reluctantly, Kiba opens his mouth.
"Better," Kankuro murmurs, not expecting it to be this easy. And then the kiss becomes more deep throated – Kankuro shoves a tongue into the warm mouth, tasting blood, and fear, and weariness.
Kiba then begins to cough, a splattering of blood erupting from his throat. It stains Kankuro's mouth red, makes its way onto his clothes, and Kankuro withdraws hastily. He looks at the pathetic figure, and knows instinctively that Kiba is trying to hold onto the remains of his dignity. And heedless, Kankuro picks Kiba up; cradling his head like Kiba is doing to his dog, and in the process, smearing more blood and saliva onto skin and clothing.
He makes his way to the meeting point, carrying Kiba, wondering if he will be the first one there. He hopes so, wanting this to last longer, because Gaara's cutting remarks will ask about the blood, and Temari's sharp eyes will realise why.