Title: Idle Hands
Characters: Kakashi/Yamato. Genma, Hayate, Raido, Gai.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Summary: (Kakashi/Yamato. One-shot sprinkled with some crack.) Yamato once swore he'd never attend Genma's Bi-Weekly Monday Night poker game. But promises are for pansies.
This one-shot was written for the LJ community 30kisses. Prompt: # 24; good night.
Warning(s): Spoilers up to the recent manga chapters. Many, many vices: swearing, drinking, gambling and fornicating. If you are offended by man-on-man, I would suggest bypassing this story. Oh, and Hayate never died.
There had never been a time in Yamato's relatively young life where he had been more pestered than when Genma made attempts to drag him along to his bi-weekly Monday night poker games.
"Hey, you coming to the game tonight?"
I'm cornered. Crap. "No, I have paperwork to fill out. Lots and lots of paperwork."
"You know you want to come."
"Hatake'll be there."
"And why would that change my mind?"
"Eh. I thought…" He paused. "Never mind, man. If you change your mind you know where to find us."
Genma gave Yamato his trademark smug smirk and a curt wave goodbye and then disappeared into the busy river of people below.
Yamato pressed a palm to his cheek and leaned against the railing of the shinobi headquarters. Escaping Genma this time around had been exceptionally easy whereas nearly every week before this he practically had to get the man into a choke hold before he was left alone.
The prodding would usually begin on a Saturday evening and wouldn't end until a few hours before the "party" was set to start. In the beginning of Genma's crusade Yamato had been flashier with his refusals, but now he just tried to avoid the guy on Saturdays altogether.
Yamato pushed off from the railing and matched his pace with the flow of the city folk.
He didn't even know why Gemna was so adamant about him showing up. As much as it pained him to say it, Yamato knew he wasn't all that eccentric (or funny, really) of a guy. He got along with everyone well enough and if he didn't, well, those who bothered him learned quickly enough.
Normally he would've caved to Genma's constant pestering, since Genma and he went back several years and it had been a while since they had last spoken (he had continued on with ANBU while Genma retired to a more lax special jounin seat, the bastard). Spending some quality bonding time was always good for the soul.
But Yamato strapped on his face plate and viewed the constant hounding as an interrogation of poker player proportions. And there was no way he would jeopardize himself and country.
He may have been (okay, he was) blowing the entire issue out of proportion, but he had good reason to try and avoid Genma's apartment building.
One: it only took perhaps two days of being in the guy's acquaintance to be invited. That gave Yamato enough cause to be worried about the value of morality that the Monday night poker game attendees would have. Or not have, to be more precise. Because, yes, even he liked to delve into the art of being generally virtuous.
Second: Yamato had never really learned how to play a mean game of poker. Sure, the verses of How to throw that Kunai Right were still hammered into his brain enough for him to be able to acquire Anonymous ANBU of the Year three years running. The plaque came with a self-destruct tag and he could only gloat for perhaps a few minutes or so every December before it dissolved into ashes and dust.
Vital teachings and scripts had been pounded into his head all his life. He had undergone increasingly more difficult training as he climbed the rank ladder until, at his current level of expertise, he was allowed to pass his knowledge onto others. Not that he would ever want to take up a genin team of his own, though.
But no one had cared to mention that poker was also a vital subject to the art of ninja. Perhaps it was not vital to survival on the battlefield, but learning how to handle oneself during a poker game would mean the difference between being a social outcast and the life of the party.
While Yamato could always take the easy road and ask for someone to give him pointers on how to play the game, there was something unnerving about admitting a personal flaw like that, so he just didn't want to bring it up.
And he had better things do to with his time than consult a book for help. Like fill out mountains of paperwork he had managed to accumulate after taking over Kakashi's team in his stead.
Then again, the act of simply showing up and losing all his money was a viable option as well. Well, maybe "viable" wasn't the best way to put it, but it was certainly something he could do. And he did need to ask Genma about something or other. Besides, one game couldn't hurt as long as he folded before he dumped in his entire paycheck and kunai collection.
Did I just... talk myself into going?
He stopped walking, rather abruptly, in the middle of the street.
Poor vendor Goro had to wheel his cart full of tomatoes around him and a load of fresh, ripe tomatoes spilled over the cart's edge with a splat. Another man nearly hip checked an elderly woman buying vegetables in order to skirt around the wayward cart.
People smacked into each other. Food was tossed out of baskets and by the looks of it, two middle-aged women were about ready to rip the other's hair out.
Yamato cringed at the scene.
When the pandemonium died down the cries of the wronged began to fill the air, demanding to show whoever caused the scene a lesson or two in manners.
For the love of—
"Hey, you!" Vendor Goro gave him a suspicious look. "You're the one that—!"
"Uh…" I better get out of here.
It was well past his self-imposed curfew as he made his way down Genma's street.
The whole situation was embarrassing. Mainly on account of the fact that the guy happened to live on "Pleasure Drive" in one of the seediest residential areas known to Konoha. Yamato had only been down to Genma's apartment building once in his entire life. During that brief visit he had amended to never visit again.
But here he was, years later, promise broken, carefully plodding down the street and stepping over the drunken businessmen and their sake bottles.
Yamato could see Genma's shoddy building just several rows down the street. It was the only apartment on the block that had green festival lights hanging across the outside window as well as a lava lamp taped to the windowsill. It had very much the same décor outside that it had had when he had been here years ago.
All the signs screamed for him to turn around and never, ever look back. But a sort of morbid curiosity took hold of his limbs and dragged him closer and closer to the doorstep.
With each step he took the noise from the inside increased in increments until Yamato wondered why the neighbors didn't run out of their house screaming for silence. (Then again, they were probably used to it. Or they were so washed up from their cheap booze they didn't realize sounds were even being made.)
From the bottom of the steps Yamato looked up through the apartment window. He could see several silhouettes moving around inside the house. The voices were loud but muffled so he was unable to really put any faces to the voices. The only person he could hear clearly was Genma… but all he was doing was arguing about his cards.
Yamato shrugged and rang the doorbell. He saw one figure pause for a moment and then throw his hands up with a groan. Most likely Genma that one, Yamato thought with a light frown.
After what seemed like minutes of waiting the locks on the door began to click open. Yamato counted approximately five locks (Genma was certainly old school when it came to protecting his humble abode).
The door creaked open, showering his pupils with bright, glowing light.
"Nice to see you showing your ass around here." Genma grinned at him and leaned over to shout at his poker guests. "Hey everyone, Yamato's here!"
A chorus of drunken fools sounded from inside.
There was still time to save himself from a night of utter stupidity.
Genma grabbed him by the collar and hauled him into the apartment. "Man, we missed you around here—oh, check out this sweet rug. Totally shag."
Genma pointed to rather ugly-looking piece of rug. After a few seconds of contemplation Yamato noted that if he had something to drink, had his face dunked under water and was slapped around a little, the rug actually would contain some sort of appeal. (Yamato usually thought of shag carpet as embodying all the disgusting taste of a male with no female companion.)
Yamato tilted his head to the side as he watched Genma's lips move in some random anecdote about his acquisition of the rug. He prayed that Genma wouldn't force him to pet the damn thing.
"Um… it's a very nice rug." He said after realizing Genma had stopped talking.
Genma raised an eyebrow. "Right."
"So." Yamato crossed his arms over his chest.
"C'mon," Genma grinned, "let me show you the rest of the place."
If you have to…
To be honest, there wasn't very much to show. There was a short corridor that branched off into the living room and kitchen with one lone master bedroom and bathroom. It was a simple, inconspicuous apartment overall. But in its lack of looks it made up for in pure personality. How a house could even have personality Yamato didn't know, but for some reason Genma's place reeked of it.
Genma pushed him into the living room. "And our final destination: the party."
Yamato blinked. Surrounding an old poker table sat Raido, Hayate, Kakashi and Gai. He blinked again. And then stared.
Raido looked to have relieved himself of his shirt and kept only a fishnet shirt on. Hayate was devoid of his perpetual headband and he squirmed underneath the scrutiny. Gai was missing his orange legwarmers (and Yamato thanked his lucky stars nothing else was missing). Kakashi was still wearing his full Jounin-uniform—the only one out of the group to be doing so.
Still a loser, I see.
Raido smiled. "Long time no see, eh, Yamato?"
Hayate nodded his head in greeting.
"Yo." Kakashi lifted a hand in a wave.
Gai patted the empty chair next to him. "Seat yourself here."
Yamato shuffled over reluctantly and took the seat next to Gai. Yamato had nothing against the guy, but he had to admit he was just a tad afraid of the exuberant eccentricities he had witnessed before.
Once Yamato was properly settled in the chair he tugged at his shirt collar. With a frown he wondered if he had to take off his clothing to fit in with the boys. To be honest, shirtless was not exactly the way he wanted to spend his evening.
"So what have you guys been up to?" Yamato asked.
"Poker." Kakashi replied blandly.
Yamato rolled his eyes. "Really? I couldn't tell."
Raido pointed a finger at the two of them. "Play nice, you two."
Yamato scowled. "I will when Kakashi does."
Kakashi almost looked offended.
Hayate cradled his head in his hands. "This brings back so many bad memories."
Genma set down a tray of drinks beside the poker table with a clank. "How about we start a new game."
Raido scowled. "You were bitching about your cards just five seconds ago."
"As much as starting anew is encouraged, just because Yamato is here it doesn't mean we are in need of a new game." Gai nodded.
Genma threw his hands up. "There is just no pleasing you people."
"Let's just finish this round." Kakashi suggested with a grin.
"You only say that because you've won the last three games." Genma muttered.
Kakashi shrugged lazily. "Whatever you say."
Yamato leaned back against his seat and reached for the tray of liquor. He picked up a cold beer and popped the top of with his thumb. (It was a party trick he had learned years ago, when he had still thought smashing beer cans on his head would impress his peers.) He took a slow swig. For the longest time he had been unable to stomach beer, but thankfully he had overcome that problem before he ever had to drink among his friends.
While the rest of the group picked their cards back up and continued to play Yamato made sure to study their game. After the tomato cart incident he had gone to the library to pick up some light reading on poker. Between then and now he had managed to cover the basics. And now he was eager to see how everyone put the basics into practice.
Needless to say, the game was a rather open and shut case. Everyone ended up folding until it was only Kakashi and Raido facing off. Kakashi kept forcing the stakes higher and Raido kept stringing along until he only had a measly few chips left. He folded and Kakashi revealed his shit hand.
Genma had called for a brief intermission after that (he was most likely scouring his apartment for more items to pawn off in the money pot).
Yamato breathed through his nose and tried to avoid the grime of the kitchen counter as best he could while still leaning his hip against it. He took a drink (from his second beer) and looked around the room, assessing his opponents for the second round.
Gai had been the dealer and he made a very interesting one. He didn't have a very good stoic poker face, but the glint off his teeth made it hard to notice any other tells he probably had.
Genma had the bad habit of swishing his senbon a little when he had a bad hand—or downright saying he had bad luck. It took Yamato an extra ten minutes to observe Raido and Hayate's tells: a tendon in Raido's hand shifted whenever there was a bad move while Hayate's earlobe twitched.
The only one in the room that he just couldn't decipher was Kakashi. No matter what he did (like getting up to move around the room for a different angle or dropping the bottle cap under the table) he just didn't find any clues as to what the guy was thinking.
Yamato was slightly dumbfounded at first, then a little off-put when his attempts at reading Kakashi failed. And soon after his mood shifted to highly impressed, since he always expected Kakashi to be the best at what he did.
But it gave him a silent thrill, too. Soon he would be up against his respected colleague and he intended on giving the guy a run for his money. (Literally, figuratively… whatever.) He pushed off the kitchen counter and went over to the trash bin to dispose of his empty beer bottle.
"Stare much?" Kakashi said casually from his left. He also had an empty beer bottle in his hand. It probably wasn't his because Yamato had not seen him drink from it all night.
Yamato gave him a weary look. "Sorry?"
"During the game." Kakashi elaborated. "You stare."
"I'm not quite sure what you're getting at."
"You never do and you never will." Kakashi grinned.
Yamato scowled. "Sure."
Kakashi tapped his fingers against the kitchen counter the two of them were leaning against. "Enjoying yourself?"
"I'm surprised you care." Yamato replied. He sounded rude, but his tone was more curious than curt.
"Eh, it's the first time you showed up." Kakashi said. "I—"
Genma popped his head into the kitchen. "Come on, ladies. There is money to be had with the losers getting sad!"
Yamato raised an eyebrow. "Is he okay?"
"Have another beer and you won't even notice him."
The cogs in his brain had started turning the moment he took his seat between Gai and Kakashi. One thing was clear above all else: he wanted to win the game. Badly. (Partially to show up his favorite ex-ANBU captain and to sweep in the beautiful cash he so desperately desired; after training with Naruto a new shirt was to be had.)
Yamato had taken Kakashi up on the advice of another beer, but he hadn't actually taken another drink from the bottle yet. Five beers was his sober limit (and even then his mental capabilities were questionable). He wanted to put up a façade of pure drunken lunacy just to lure his opponents into a false sense of security.
It was a fool-proof plan.
"So—so I says to her…" He gripped Gai's shoulder and gave a small shake, feigning a deep slur for all it was worth. "I says to her 'you don't know the meaning of wood!'"
Gai chuckled briefly, obviously humoring him. "I can tell that that conversation was very refreshing."
"Totally." Yamato leaned back into his chair and picked at his cards. He had seen several men drunk during his lifetime and the friendly, fidgety kind were the easiest ones to portray.
"I'll open this game." Raido said, and tossed in a faded red chip.
Hayate cleared his throat. "I see your five and I'll match and double it." He stacked two chips together and placed them in the pot.
The game continued onwards in such a fashion with each player giving Yamato subtle hints as to what kind of cards they had. Genma was becoming increasingly aggressive in his playing style as the game progressed. Yamato assumed the host would be out of this round soon enough—he only had one more potted plant to bet until he was out of betting material.
When Gai dealt another card Genma let out a faint groan of disappointment. "I fold."
Yamato grinned a very stupid grin.
Turn by turn each player folded until Yamato and Kakashi were the only ones left holding their cards. Yamato was still grinning faintly, feigning a dazed glaze over his eyes.
Kakashi placed an elbow on the poker table and tapped his temple with his index finger.
He held his cards loosely together, but with such ease and boredom that Yamato wondered why they hadn't fallen out of his hands yet. Even with a certain tension crackling between them he still managed to exude complete boredom.
It was Kakashi's turn to place the final bet (which then Yamato would need to match, raise, or fold).
And the guy was taking his sweet time deciding on what to do.
(Hayate had snuck off to use the bathroom after he had folded and Raido was busy flipping through Genma's television. Every time Genma attempted to find out what the guy was watching, Raido replied that there was nothing on… but everyone knew he was watching Monday night soap operas.)
At the moment the world of poker revolved entirely around Kakashi and he. It was a strange, strange world. The glow of the lava lamp shone through the curtains, casting a faint orange glow across Kakashi's hair.
Yamato tapped the backs of his cards lightly, wondering if he should pull a ghoul face at a time like this. Staring down his former captain took him back a few years, reminding him that some things just don't change with the years.
Kakashi flipped a chip between his thumb and forefinger. "I'm all in."
When Kakashi pushed his entire stack of chips into the pot Yamato snapped out of his stupor.
He really hoped Kakashi was just bluffing to get him to fold. He bit the flesh inside his cheek and gave a light chomp; it was a small gesture that often helped him think in tense situations.
Gai looked at him quizzically. Kakashi kept a steady gaze trained right between his eyes—it was a scare tactic he had seen the guy use countless times in impromptu interrogations, but it had been years since he had been unnerved from that glance.
Yamato looked down at his hand, wondering what to do. His cards were pretty decent, but not what he deemed worthy of dumping his entire pot into the center of the table.
Kakashi grinned. "Tell you what. I'll make you a deal."
Yamato raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
"You can either go all in with your money—or your clothes."
Yamato nearly dropped his cards. "What?"
Kakashi appraised him silently. "I like your shirt."
"You want me… to bid my clothing?"
Gai coughed loudly. "I don't think clothes are proper bidding items."
"I was betting with plants!" Genma shouted from the living room.
Kakashi grinned. "It's okay if you don't want to see Yamato naked. I hear it is quite the horrible sight."
Yamato scowled. "Have I ever told you that you are a horrible human being?"
"Twice, I think."
"So you're telling me that you think your hand is so good that I might as well save my money." He said. "What if I want to fold?"
Kakashi grinned. "You don't."
"Mind-tricks like that won't work on me, Kakashi-sempai." Yamato sighed.
"Then why are you already reaching to take off your shirt?"
Yamato coughed violently, noticing that he was in fact (subconsciously, at least) going to take off his clothing. There were probably many reasons why he wanted to get rid of his shirt. And none of them involved the reason 'because Kakashi ordered him to do so.'
"Boxers are left on." Yamato said finally. He would barter for his undergarments to be left on at all costs.
Alcohol upped his comfort zone a notch. Even so, he had never really seen anything wrong with disrobing among friends. There were countless times when he found that nakedness often bred familiarity and friendship. (Take that however you will, but it was a tried and true method when he was attempting to meld a team together.)
Yamato shimmied out of his remaining clothing but left his boxers very much intact (and his little friend tucked in and away from prying eyes). He tried to place his clothing in the middle of the table in such a way that they would not knock over the chips. When he finally looked up he caught Kakashi's eye raking up and down his form. It wasn't the first time he had caught Kakashi looking at him that way and even after so many years he still remembered what it meant.
He felt a faint flush creep right up his neck and suddenly Kakashi's eye was trained dead-on with his.
Yamato swallowed slowly.
The moment between them was broken when Hayate shuffled into the room.
Gai opened his mouth to explain why Yamato was almost naked but Hayate shook his head.
"I don't want to know." He picked up his jacket from his abandoned chair. "I'm leaving."
"See you tomorrow!" Genma waved absently from his couch. Apparently Raido had managed to rope him into the world of soaps.
Gai clapped his hands together. "Show the cards, please."
Yamato laid down his cards, as did Kakashi. Much to Yamato's un-surprise, Kakashi had a full house of spades. He chuckled lightly, half-relieved he didn't waste his money and half-hoping Kakashi would let him keep his clothing anyway.
Gai unlocked the cashbox and handed Kakashi a wad of bills. "Congratulations, eternal rival. You win once again."
Kakashi tucked the money into the front pocket of his flak jacket and then folded Yamato's clothing underneath his arms. "I think I'll call it a night."
Raido snorted. "It's not like you're waking up early tomorrow."
"Do you mind if walk back with you, sempai?" Yamato asked, sliding his chair back as he stood up. Perhaps on the way home he would be able to finagle his clothing back into his possession.
For some reason, Kakashi's gaze seemed to linger on him a little longer than it should have. Yamato hoped his boxers were securely fastened.
"Afraid a drunkard will mug you?"
"Yes, that's exactly it." He muttered crossly and followed Kakashi out the front door. No one else seemed to notice or care that they were leaving.
Kakashi raised an eyebrow at him. "You were serious about walking back with me?"
"Apparently." Yamato said, hoping that he wouldn't meet any of his other, more respectable superiors half-naked.
Yamato folded his arms across his chest. It was a lot chillier outside than he remembered it being. It was probably because he had been wearing more layers on the way to Genma's than a flimsy piece of cloth over his loins on the way back, but details, details!
Kakashi chuckled beside him. "A little too cold for you, Tenzou?"
He better not be staring down there…
"Kakashi," his tone hinted at his annoyance, "how many times have I told you to call me Yamato?"
"Worried that the passed out citizens of the Red-light District will hear you?"
"Am I the only one that attended the Academy?"
"Is this entire exchange going to consist of questions?"
Yamato's eyebrow twitched. "You're insufferable."
"Not really. You're the one that broke the pattern we had going."
He was not going to say anymore and risk karate chopping the guy in the windpipe. Sometimes he and Kakashi got along well (usually when Kakashi wanted something from him) but oftentimes he found himself wanting to strangle the guy.
It was a strange relationship they had; one part of him enjoying the attention while the other half of him wanted to take a phone cord to the guy's neck in the middle of the night. (Not that he would sneak into Kakashi's apartment unwarranted. Really.)
"I believe this is your stop." Kakashi paused outside Yamato's building. (How the hell they had managed to get across town in such a short amount of time, Yamato'd never know.)
"Yeah." Yamato said, walking up his steps slowly. He turned around when he reached the door, noting that Kakashi was still standing there with an outfit tucked underneath his arm. "Would you mind giving me back my clothing?"
Kakashi looked him up and down. Yamato flushed; it had been a long time since someone had stared at him like that. "Feel like gambling some more?"
Yamato frowned. "I'm still not taking off my underwear."
"I had something else in mind." Then the guy had the gall to ascend the few steps casually, tap his chin lightly and then pull down his mask in a temptingly slow manner.
Every time Yamato had seen Kakashi's face unmasked a mixture of emotions seemed to run through him. It always started with jealously since no man should be able to be so handsome. But this envy eventually dissipated into a strange heat at his core; a slow throbbing deep inside that announced his arousal in a nearly embarrassing manner. Kakashi was always the one to instigate these reactions inside of him. Yamato never knew if it was just something Kakashi did on purpose or if it was simply some gift the man was born with.
Either way, Yamato hated it and craved it.
Kakashi leaned forwards and slid his lips over Yamato's while his gloved hand reached up to rest on Yamato's shoulder.
On the surface it was entirely an innocent kiss, but Yamato could feel the suppressed heat that had passed between them during that one instance after the poker game.
Yamato yanked his head back and reached for the doorknob. "Um…" A flush crept across his cheeks. "I don't see how that's gambling."
"Neither do I." Kakashi said, pulling his mask back up as if nothing had happened. "But be glad: you can have your clothing back."
A shirt and pant combo was thrust into Yamato's hands as he scrambled to regain his bearings.
"Good night, Tenzou."
Yamato couldn't sleep.
He shifted positions a few times, fluffed his pillow and wiggled around until he was duly frustrated. He sat upright and gave a small sigh.
Kakashi had kissed him and then walked off into the night. No explanation, no apologies, no "I'm sorry, but I tripped on your steps and happened to latch on to your face with my own." Of course, Yamato had been the one to pull away, but what else was he supposed to do? It wasn't every day (or recently, to be more precise) that he was accosted by the man.
And if Kakashi wanted to instigate something, then he might as well finish the job.
Putting the attraction he was feeling out of his head was a little more difficult than he had thought it would be. It was just a little kiss. It was completely platonic in a homoerotic kind of way.
Yamato blanched and whipped out a kunai from his nightstand.
"Hey, is that how you treat guests?" The shadowy silhouette of everyone's favorite Copy Ninja peaked out from the corner of his bedroom. Either Yamato was losing his grip or the guy had taken special care to not be seen or heard. He prayed it was the latter.
"When you're the guest, yes." He muttered, dropping the kunai to the ground with a clatter. He slumped against his bed, wondering when he had become comfortable with Kakashi simply waltzing into his room.
Probably the last time he had felt at ease was when the two of them were sort-of kind-of seeing one another. But those days were long forgotten and stored in his "never to be reopened" memory box.
Kakashi laughed. "Thinking about me?"
Yamato shifted against the mattress. Okay, maybe those long forgotten memories should have been renamed "to be reopened upon further notice."
Kakashi sighed. "Look, about the doorstep kiss…"
"Why'd you do it?"
Yamato picked at a loose string from on his boxers. "It's kind of strange all of a sudden. I mean… you know, different."
"The two guys kissing part?"
"No. The you kissing me part."
"It's not like we've never done that before." Kakashi seemed completely amused.
Yamato sighed. "Yeah. But that was a long, long time ago."
"So?" The space between them disappeared in one swift motion. Kakashi crawled up onto the mattress. He placed one knee between Yamato's thighs and one hand beside Yamato's hip to balance his weight. The aura he was giving off was entirely predatory. Kakashi tugged his mask down with a deft finger.
Yamato gulped. While one part of him wanted to know why Kakashi was taking interest in him again, those few weeks he had spent with Kakashi years prior reminded him exactly what was going on. A wave of nostalgia swept through him, reminding him of his youth and the weeks of being in some backwater country with his sempai.
"Still thinking of me?" Kakashi murmured, his voice an octave lower than normal. After spending "quality" time with the man before, Yamato realized Kakashi had a strange habit of lowering his voice when he was attempting to become a semblance of a seducer. Not that he was complaining.
Yamato sat up straight. "Yes and no."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Yes, I'm thinking of kicking your ass out my window. No, I'm not thinking of having sex with you."
Kakashi slid his hand behind Yamato's head and leaned forward to engage in another impromptu kiss. Although Yamato talked the talk, he had not the heart to deny himself the pleasure of making out with Kakashi.
He pressed himself into the lip lock, sitting up straight and winding a forearm around Kakashi's neck to pull them closer together. The kiss was a little awkward and a little rough, but there was enough blind horniness behind it to cover for their over-enthusiasm.
When they pulled back Kakashi leaned forward again and ran his tongue along the bottom of Yamato's lip.
"Still not thinking about having sex with me?"
A rather embarrassing shudder rippled across Yamato's skin. The more heated things got between them, the easier it was to get a reaction out of him. Kakashi knew that.
Kakashi pulled back a fraction of an inch and stared at him with a half-lidded gaze. Yamato wasn't exactly sure what it meant, but he had a pretty good idea that it had something to do with arousal and whatnot.
Yamato grabbed a fistful of Kakashi's hair and pulled the Copy Ninja towards him for another kiss. Kakashi parted his mouth and titled his head to the side and Yamato took the invitation to dip his tongue in. He ran his tongue along the front of Kakashi's teeth and then along his inner cheek. He could feel Kakashi reach around and tangle his fingers into his hair; the tug on his scalp sent a course of pleasure-pain down his spine and he ground his hip on Kakashi's.
A low moan escaped Kakashi's mouth and he ran a hand down Yamato's front. He was still wearing gloves and the coarse fabric rubbed against Yamato's skin the wrong way. At the end of its journey his hand rested low on Yamato's hipbone; a calloused thumb ran circular patterns across his taut abdomen and Yamato felt his cock harden with each tingle Kakashi's touch caused. As cheesy as it sounded (and it really did, he noted far in the back of his mind) but he never wanted those touches to stop.
Yamato pulled back for a moment. "Take more clothing off and we're golden."
"Someone is awfully eager now." Kakashi licked Yamato's cheek playfully. The action was a sharp contrast to the heady look that swam in his eyes.
Yamato nearly smacked Kakashi upside the head. "Not so eager that I won't escort you out."
Kakashi pulled his gloves off and shrugged out of his flak jacket. "Why Tenzou, I never knew you were an exhibitionist."
"I might've picked a few things up over the years." Yamato helped yank Kakashi's shirt over his head.
Kakashi untied his pants drawstrings and tilted his head back when Yamato licked at his nipple. "All this coming from a guy that would choke on his own spit when I would mention sucking him off… I'm impressed."
Yamato grinned. "Really?"
Once Kakashi's pants were sufficiently loosened around the waist, he wiggled them down to his knees. Yamato glanced down and coughed.
No underwear. Some things never change.
"Enjoying the view?"
Yamato wrapped his hand behind Kakashi's neck. "Should I be?"
Kakashi ran his tongue along Yamato's jaw line. "Mmhm."
Their kisses began to meld together until it was hard to tell when one began and one stopped. They only broke apart briefly for air and those stops were interspersed with open-mouthed kissed and rough touches. It was a game of push-pull; kiss, touch, pull away, breathe.
Kakashi kissed the corner of Yamato's mouth and slowly made his way down to his jaw line with soft lips. Yamato tilted his head back, giving the teeth and tongue that were so good better access to his sensitive flesh.
Teeth nipped at the skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder and Yamato tilted his head to the side just as his hands came up to grip Kakashi's shoulders. Ripples of pleasure ran along his heated skin and he gave half-assed attempts to reciprocate whatever Kakashi was doing.
Yamato felt like his eyes were closed even as they were peeled wide open. When Kakashi found a sensitive spot, Yamato groaned, still staring blankly at the dark canvas of the room. Kakashi laughed against his skin and pulled back, possibly sensing that Yamato was running on auto-pilot.
While giving him an intense stare-down, Kakashi's hand managed to sneak underneath Yamato's boxer shorts.
The cool touch of skin on skin made Yamato bite his lower lip and he lunged forward to press himself against Kakashi once more. A small struggle ensued between them, with Kakashi still trying to touch him and him trying to grind himself against Kakashi's thigh.
Kakashi pushed him back against the headboard of the bed and slid the boxer shorts down to grip Yamato's cock. Yamato twitched his hips forward, looking for the friction his body craved. He could see Kakashi's chest rising and falling more rapidly than usual, with a glean of sweat beginning to cover his chest. What caused a flash of heat in his abdomen was seeing Kakashi's cock as hard as his down.
Kakashi pumped him once, slowly. Yamato panted quietly, holding Kakashi's gaze with his own. It was ridiculous how easily he gave in to Kakashi's touch. Just the anticipation of being stroked was sending his synapses into overdrive.
Kakashi smirked and dipped down as if he was planning to run his tongue along Yamato's cock. But before his mouth reached its perceived destination, he pulled up and licked languorously at Yamato's cut line. Yamato shivered and undulated his hips forwards as Kakashi stroked him lightly with his thumb.
Kakashi's hand left the heat pooling between Yamato's thighs and was content drawing feather-light patterns across Yamato's abdomen. It was push and pull once again. Yamato's cock twitched and a sharp tingle jolted up from the base of his spine to the top of his neck. (He hadn't been touched in a long, long time.) Yamato gripped a handful of silver hair and pressed his mouth against Kakashi's roughly, trying to convey that he didn't want to play games.
Kakashi breathed against Yamato's jaw while his hand slipped down from Yamato's abdomen; he went back to stroking Yamato's hard cock. It wasn't exactly what Yamato had in mind when he thought about quickening the pace, but it was better than short kisses and light touches.
He let go of Kakashi and leaned back against his bed's headboard, noting that he had to hunch over to not drive the wood into his back. When he was trying to enjoy whatever touches he received he realized their positions were a little uncomfortable.
When Kakashi fisted him and all he felt like doing was shrugging, they both realized their current seats would not do.
"Sit forwards." Kakashi slid off the mattress and got on his knees in front of Yamato. Yamato shifted so that he was sitting right by the edge of the bed.
Oh my god. It was just like bad porn.
Yamato panted heavily and stared down at the shinobi he respected the most crouch between his bent legs.
He never thought they would be in this position again. They had promised to part ways when Kakashi had resigned from ANBU, after all. Yamato had had little hope that he would even see Kakashi regularly. But now here they were, falling back into their old routine.
Kakashi's hooked his fingers in the fabric of Yamato's boxer shorts and pulled it all the way down. It was a slight struggle since Yamato had to lift himself off the mattress to accommodate the shorts.
"I presume we're doing you first." Kakashi said mildly.
Yamato scowled. "Breaking the mood is your middle name, Hatake."
Kakashi smirked and then leaned forwards and licked a trail along the underside of Yamato's straining cock. Yamato's eyes rolled back into his head and he gripped his mattress so hard his knuckles turned white.
This was something he had to watch. While Kakashi teased him with his tongue, he jimmied the switch of lamp that was on his bedside table.
Kakashi pulled away with a smirk. "Like I said before: you're awfully eager tonight."
Yamato panted. "It's not every day you go down on me."
After their eyes adjusted to the faint glow of the lamp, Kakashi went back to licking and Yamato went back to clutching at his mattress.
At first, Kakashi's touches were tentative and slow and Yamato nearly had to grab a fistful of hair to get the motions going faster.
Then Kakashi took him into his mouth and Yamato really did grab at the back of Kakashi's head, lest he fall off the bed or something. He bit his lip and moaned low in his throat.
Kakashi grabbed the base of his cock, moving his hand in time with his mouth. Whenever Yamato protested, Kakashi hummed a short tune against him. A ripple of sensation spread through his limbs like a wildfire each time. He noted that that distinct high would soon be coming if they kept going the pace they were at presently.
He hunched over to better watch Kakashi work, panting and groaning with each stroke of Kakashi's mouth. When Kakashi swirled his tongue around the head while pumping Yamato's cock in his hands, a sharp gasp escaped Yamato's lips.
Completion was faster upon him than was generally considered dignified and he tried to yank on several strands of hair for warning. Kakashi kept moving his mouth against him, sucking, licking, pumping, and Yamato had to say that was probably the hottest image he had seen in many-a-year.
He clenched his eyes shut and panted as a shock of white flashed behind his eyelids; there was nothing left to do except for him to hold on to something and ride the sensations for all it was worth. With a groan he came harder than he had in months. His hips snapped upward against his own volition (a throat full of dick could not have been a pleasant thing) and he came in hot spurts in Kakashi's mouth.
When he came down from his high he was lying back on the mattress and his boxers were hanging loosely around his ankles. Kakashi was looking at him wryly as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
Yamato flexed his fingers slowly, trying to let some blood flow back into his digits. He looked down his front and saw Kakashi sitting back on his haunches, probably smirking at the image in front of him.
Yamato would have been lying if he said it wasn't just a little bit embarrassing, having his limp member hanging before someone that just sucked him off. He pulled himself back up into a sitting position and wiped a sticky substance off his thigh.
His body felt awfully lazy, but he managed to round up enough energy to stand up and pull his boxers back over his hips. He offered Kakashi a faint smile and a hand.
"I don't return blowjobs on hardwood floors."
Kakashi pulled himself up slowly and pressed his own cock against Yamato's thigh.
"Lucky me." He breathed against Yamato's cheek. "There's carpet in the living room."
Thanks go out to Shigeruhiko for the inspiration. Props also go out to the lovely Blakkmollie for doing a wonderful beta job.