The rest of the ANBU had already filed their reports and left for home, but it only took a moment for Iruka to realize that Ibiki was still back in the showers. Concerned for his friend, Iruka got up to go investigate what was taking the torture specialist so long.
Iruka came to find Ibiki standing with his back to him in the showers, head hung forward, shoulders hunched with pain. The water steamed off of his body, and his skin was bright red with the heat of the shower. Iruka winced – that, combined with the cuts, scrapes, bruises and stitched gashes all along Ibiki, it looked like it hurt.
Then Ibiki's shoulders shook, and a strange noise escaped the otherwise stalk-still man. Iruka moved closer, careful not to surprise him, only to find that Ibiki's face was screwed up in pain, his muscles tight with tension.
"Oh, Ibiki..." Iruka sighed. Not caring about getting his clothes wet, Iruka stepped into the stream of water, hugging the larger man to him. Ibiki, silent, clung to the smaller ninja like his life depended on it. His arms wrapped around Iruka's back, tightly, as if the man was all that kept Ibiki's feet on the ground. His chest pressed against Iruka's face, and the smaller man reached over, turning off the water that was burning Ibiki's bare, scarred skin.
Iruka's hand, softly rubbed circles on Ibiki's back, whispering soft, comforting words. "I'm here, Ibiki. I'm here. You're okay. Everything's going to be okay."
Ibiki moved to pull away, realizing how weak he'd been acting, ashamed of himself. "Sorry, Iruka..." He muttered, taking in the wet clothing on Iruka.
Iruka shook his head, smiling up at Ibiki. "No, you needed a hug. Don't be ashamed of that." Iruka's fingers slipped through Ibiki's large, rough hands, and held it tightly. "Everyone needs someone to lean on, Ibiki. Even you." Iruka let go of Ibiki's hand, and Ibiki found himself missing the soft, comforting contact. Iruka grabbed a towel off the rack, and gently started drying off Ibiki. Ibiki closed his eyes, standing perfectly still and relaxing into the sensation. But he couldn't really relax. His muscles were always tight, tension taught throughout his body and mind, constantly alert. Even in his own bed, he could never really let go.
As he toweled him off, Iruka spoke. "Once you get dressed, I'll clock out. We'll go to my apartment, and I'll make you some nice and warm home-made ramen."
"No, I've got to go file my-" Ibiki said, moving to reject the offer. He really didn't need to do anything, but he was going to break down. He didn't want to do that in front of Iruka.
"No, you don't." Iruka cut him off sharply, then continued in a much gentler tone, "Let me take care of you, Ibiki. Let me help." He said, hanging up the wet towel.
Iruka walked over to the cubbies, pulling out Ibiki's clothes, and helped him get dressed. Ibiki let him, enjoying the sensation of being cared for. He hadn't felt like this since he was eight years old, when he'd become a genin.
"There is nothing weak about letting someone take care of you when you need it," Iruka said softly, putting the hitai-ate back in the cubby. Ibiki moved to object, he needed his gear in case there was an attack, but Iruka put a finger on his lips, having to get on tip toes to do so. "No, you can't always be a shinobi. Tonight, you're just Ibiki."
Any thought of arguing was cut off as Iruka gently pressed his lips to Ibiki's, and all thought and coherency left Ibiki's mind instantly. Iruka pulled back, and walked out of the showers. Ibiki followed behind, silently.
The door to the mission offices closed silently behind them, and Iruka took his hand in his. And as they walked away, hand in hand, Ibiki felt oddly like he was leaving the rest of his life behind him, like he was walking from the shinobi way, and walking into life. It was a scary, but also freeing thought. And he didn't resist, letting the peace wash over him as he left behind all of his responsibilities for just one night.
Once at Iruka's apartment, Iruka let go of his hand. Ibiki fought the urge to take up the contact again as Iruka unlocked the apartment and let him in. The door shut silently behind him. "Make yourself at home. I'll make dinner." Iruka said, dropping his keys on the counter as he walked into the kitchen, putting a tea kettle on the stove. Ibiki took a seat on one of the bar stools at the counter, watching Iruka cook.
The tea was done in moments, and Iruka poured two cups of green tea, handing one to Ibiki. "Drink up. The chamomile will help you relax." Ibiki obeyed, watching Iruka over the edge of the tea cup, unable to tear his eyes away from his gold-tanned savior.
Iruka, while waiting for the noodles to boil and the miso-pork to fry, stripped off his chunin vest, the hitai-ate, the kunai bag on his thigh, and the pony tail constraining his hair. He dropped it all unceremoniously into a pile on the counter, and walked away from it. For someone reason, Ibiki found that action surprising. Iruka looked so relaxed, so at peace. As if he could simply seperate himself from his responsibilities as a shinobi by simply taking off his clothes.
"How do you do it?" Ibiki asked, voice coarse with pain. The tea soothed his throat, but his chest still ached. All of the missions, all of the interrogations and assasinations weighed so heavily on him. He could never move away from them.
Iruka seemed to understand what he was asking about. "It's just a symbolism – taking off the gear. But I've had practice. You just need to seperate yourself from it. Keep your personal life seperate. Have things outside of the shinobi life that make you happy. Me, I like to cook. I like to walk around the forest at night, breathing in the cold air. What do you do off the job, Ibiki?"
Iruka fell into silence, as if he didn't expect Ibiki to actually answer that, as he continued to prepare the ramen. Ibiki thought about it. When was the last time he did anything other than missions, drinking and fucking?
He couldn't remember.
And it dawned on him, that he'd slowly let the job consume him, take over him. Eat him alive. It had crept up on him, managed to take him down. But somehow, Iruka had managed to escape it.
Ibiki looked at the chunin with a new kind of pride and respect, awed and humbled at what the young, sexy man had accomplished.
Ibiki watched as Iruka cooked, now, mesmerized by him. His muscles rippled and flexed underneath the skin tight net shirt, his hair falling around his shoulders, making soft rustling noises as he turned his head to and fro. His lips were set in a calm, contented smile as hummed to himself, occasionally smiling peacefully up at Ibiki. The mans peace with himself was astounding, and arrousing.
Ibiki found himself suddenly taken over by the urge to see if those lips were really as soft as they looked. He fought back the thoughts, grateful he had enough self control not to blush as Iruka set down two bowls of delicious, steaming home-made ramen. Iruka slid into the seat beside Ibiki, and they ate in silence. Ibiki couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Iruka, mesmerized, watching as Iruka slurped up the soup, lips moving carefully to avoid being burned, eyes closed in pure delight.
The warm soup and tea helped Ibiki relax, slowly but surely his muscles unknotting and the tension in his mind easing away.
After they were done eating, Iruka cleared up the dishes, leaving them in the sink, and then gently took Ibiki's hand, pulling him off the stool. It took Ibiki a few surprised seconds to realize that Iruka was leading him to his bedroom.
Ibiki grinned to himself, glad the chunin walking in front of him couldn't see. Oh, he could definitely relax this way.
Iruka shut the bedroom door behind him, and catching Ibiki off guard, wrapped his arms around Ibiki's neck, pulling him down for a slow, sensual kiss. Once Ibiki got over the shock of the shy Iruka suddenly taking the lead like this, Ibiki's hands wrapped around the younger mans waist, pulling him flush against him. He moaned into the kiss, and moved to deepen it, but Iruka pulled away, licking along Ibiki's lips before smiling. He stepped out of Ibiki's arms, pulling him by the hand to the bed, and pushed Ibiki down onto the soft matress. Ibiki looked up at him, once again caught off guard and not sure what to do. Usually by now he would already have Iruka flat on his back and screaming.
He wasn't sure how to handle such a slow pace.
His mind let go of all doubts when Iruka gave him a soft, sexual look and said, "Look, but no touching." And slowly began to peel his shirt off, just inches away from Ibiki. Ibiki found the order not to touch suddenly very hard to resist, and fisted his hands in the silk sheets. Iruka's skin looked so soft, so smooth as the shirt fell to the ground, and then Iruka slowly started peeling off his pants, never breaking eye contact with Ibiki.
This pace was driving him insane. But Ibiki didn't move, locked in place by the sheer intoxication of shy little Iruka stripping for him.
Ibiki growled low in his throat, voicing his enjoyment for the show when Iruka finally stood before him, totally naked, gold flesh glowing in the low light.
Iruka moved closer, starting to take off Ibiki's clothes. Ibiki was pulled out of his revery, and moved to run his hands through Iruka's hair, to see if it was as silky as it looked. But Iruka, gently but firmly. Took hold of his wrist and pressed it back against the bed. Another low purr came from deep inside Ibiki's chest, incredibly turned on by the dominance in the other man.
Soon, all of Ibiki's clothes had been removed. And Iruka knelt down in front of him, face nuzzling the inside of Ibiki's thigh. Ibiki's head tipped back, another soft, slow moan dragged out of his throat, the sight of Iruka between his legs too erotic to resist. Once again, he reached for the chunin, but Iruka stopped him, pushing him back down against the bed, pinning his wrists above him. With his other hand, Iruka snapped, and the lights went off.
"No, don't touch. Just feel. Let go, and luxuriate in the sensation," Iruka whispered huskily, licking the shell of Ibiki's ear. Ibiki was only too happy to comply, arching his hips, his member already growing painfully hard. Who knew Iruka could make him feel like this?
Iruka's hand trailed softly over Ibiki's roughened skin, his finger tips soft, barely grazing him. Ibiki gave another broken moan, finding it harder than he would have expected not to just pounce on Iruka and fuck his brains out.
Iruka's lips trailed across after his fingers, nibbling gently on Ibiki's throat, his pulse, sucking and biting and licking the hollow in his collar bone, moving down his chest to his nipples, sucking till they were hard. Ibiki was already panting, arching his back, groaning in pleasure, his wrists still pinned above him. "G-God, Iruuuukaaaa...!" Ibiki growled out, eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed by the sensations. God, he'd never felt like this before.
Iruka smiled against Ibiki's skin, his mouth at the dip in the pelvis just above Ibiki's groin. And then, without any warning, took Ibiki entirely in his mouth. Ibiki gave a broken scream, barely stopping himself from bucking his hips into Iruka's throat. Iruka sucked, slowly pulling his mouth back off of Ibiki, stopping to swirl his tongue around his tip, sucking gently but firmly. Ibiki gave another shout, hips twitching. Iruka used one hand to press against Ibiki's hips, loving the sounds the special jounin was making.
And finally, Ibiki gave in, completely letting go, abandoning himself to the sensation. And that seemed to almost intensify the pleasure, so much so that Ibiki whimpered, his breathing hard and heavy.
It didn't take long, Ibiki already painfully hard, before he came into Iruka's mouth, screaming his pleasure so loud that Iruka was absolutely positive the entire apartment complex had heard, and Iruka swallowed it all, pulling back so that he knelt between Ibiki's legs, smiling in content.
"Now you can touch," he said softly, once Ibiki had come out of the haze of the most mind-blowing orgasm he had ever had. Ibiki didn't hesitate, shoving Iruka down onto the matress, and proceeded with his urge to fuck the chunin's brains out.
Afterwords, the two lay panting, snuggled together underneath the sheets, Ibiki kissing Iruka gently and repeatedly across the throat, Iruka mumbling his delight at the soft ministrations.
"Oh God, Iruka," Ibiki grumbled. "Who in the hell taught you that?" Ibiki asked, wrapping his arms tighter around his waist, resting his face against Iruka's shoulder and neck.
Iruka blushed, not that Ibiki could see it in the dark, and said, his voice shaky with embaressment, "U-Um, Jiraiya, actually..."
Ibiki looked down at Iruka in shock, before cracking up in laughter.
I must say, I enjoyed that ending very much. Haha... Poor Ibiki, ah well. He enjoyed Iruka's little torture. So what do you think? Have my smutt skills improved?
Read and review, my sexy ponies.