he who fights with monsters (kissing_off) wrote in copycock,
he who fights with monsters
kissing_off
copycock

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I bring fanfiction. Be awed.

Hello all, consider this my introductory post.

Being a fellow KakaSasu fan I’ve had this stagnating in my mind for a while. The dialogue is a bit limited because I don’t think I am able to capture their voices completely just yet. There is action though… if you get my drift.

Title: The In-Between
Author: kissing_off
Warning: Spoilers for everything leading up to 290 and AU afterward. NOT WORKSAFE.
(Er… also un-betaed. Please excuse any rogue grammar and such.)


Sasuke stands in the doorway as Kakashi sets out the spar futon across the small room from his own.

At first there isn't much of a change since the three years he's been away at Oto but Kakashi is beginning to pick up the subtle clues. Sasuke at fifteen isn't the same stoic boy he trained, there's a slight hunch to his figure and Kakashi knows it's not his posture; his eyes are still dark and fingernails still painted something close in shade. He's lost the bow, but the clothes are all too familiar.

"How long?" Sasuke still hasn't stepped into the threshold but a pale hand lingers on the doorway.
"Until the controversy blows over," he says and tries to remember where and if there are any spare blankets. "I don't really know, Sasuke."

They must be in storage somewhere. Ah. Closet. He moves accordingly and Sasuke takes a step inside, surveying the room.

"You," he says slowly, guarded. "You offered?"

"Yup." The blankets were in another box; he hopes, out of hospitality, that they aren't musty, and the answer is used loosely. Tsunade wasn't against crushing him into the floor of her office. Maybe through it, too.

Sasuke is still silent and wavers like a child at the doorway, watching Kakashi.

"You know the conditions don't you?" Kakashi asked, turning, and tossing two decent blankets onto the mattress. "No leaving, no public appearances without someone chuunin level, and the same thing with training."

"I know," Sasuke says darkly and Kakashi can tell by tone Tsunade's already covered this. The mission. His mission was to reintegrate the boy -- keep him safe, keep him sane.

"Where's Naruto?"

Kakashi looks up interested, his eye smiles. "On a mission. It seems, for now, we've both been replaced."

Sasuke stays silent but begins to spread the blankets about until the corners are pulled tight and rounded by the futon's form. Kakashi sets the supplies back into the closet and watches with the corner of his eye.

"I don't suppose you have anything to wear," he says when Sasuke straightens up. "You can borrow something of mine."
And he hopes that there is something Sasuke can fit because the boy is still as lithe as he was years ago. His hair is longer but it's cut in its usual style and it doesn't have the gravity defiance of the years past. His shoulders are wider by inches and Kakashi thinks the lines under his eyes are beginning to cross along his cheeks. He still looks a year or two under His age, though.

Sasuke stays silent and surveys his work. "Fine."

"Good."

Kakashi makes his way out of the bedroom and into the slightly larger room with a couch and book shelf lined with scrolls and distinctly colored novels. It's drab and barren, not god for entertaining guests, but there's enough room when the couch is pushed apart, to spar lightly. Kakashi has seen Sasuke's old apartment and he knows it was only a little more elaborate so there is no shame in his.

Behind him Sasuke is like a shadow.

They enter the kitchen and Sasuke pauses at the doorway again. It's habitual, Kakashi notes as his former student takes a step inside. "Go ahead and take a seat," he says, lest Sasuke dawdle about like in the bedroom while he scavenges the cupboards for something edible.

It was nonperishable like most everything else, but Kakashi thought it might taste a little better than the other junk. He set the three cans down and found the dust frying pan above the tub of rice.

“I don’t have much fresh food,” Kakashi says after the awkwardly silent twenty minutes and pushes a plate of rice and stir-fried greens under the boy’s nose. “I’ll get something tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sasuke says and accepts the plate.

Kakashi sits across the table from him and waits a minute watching Sasuke’s reaction for anything, any clue. There is nothing solid by the time he begins to pick at the peas and rice. Kakashi pulls his mask under his chin and catches the curious glance before Sasuke almost childishly ducks his head.

“I’ve never see you without you mask,” Sasuke says as if to justify himself.

“I’ve never seen you without yours, either, Sasuke.” And the dinner becomes silent again save for the chopsticks and a rumpling of clothing.

When dinner is over, Kakashi suggests Sasuke shower and promises some new clothing. As the Uchiha disappears in the direction of the bathroom, Kakashi clears off the table and throws the uneaten pieces on Sasuke’s plate into the disposal bin, washes the dishes, dries them, and puts them away; all in time to hear water rushing through pipes toward the bathroom.

The clothing will be too big for Sasuke because Kakashi is still much taller than him. He sets the pile outside the door and knocks, letting him know they’re outside. No steam rises from under the doorway.
So, Kakashi reads on the couch until Sasuke comes out. His hair is wet and coarse looking, some strands still sticking to his face. Kakashi smiles when he looks up from the novel. The clothes are too big, but he’s rolled the cuffs and the sleeves.

“Well,” Kakashi says and rises, placing the novel back in its spot. He catches Sasuke’s gaze on the books. “You can read a few if you want.”

The boy glares openly at him before turning away. “Why would I want to do that?”

Kakashi shrugs as he makes his way out of the room. “You just might.”

And he showers, the same way he does for the next few days. He doesn’t go out much and Sasuke doesn’t seem to mind because they play Go, or read, or simply sleep the day away without interruption. Kakashi can pick up information this way, slowly, putting the clues together as Sasuke moves the tiles. And as he watches this way, he thinks he can’t lose the boy, again; he can’t be late -- it’s been three years.

He’s trying to put the pieces together again when the moonlight is high and streaming through the blinds. Sasuke isn’t asleep, but neither is he, and they both know it. It would have (should have) stayed that way but the rustling and falling of sheets makes him reach back, between the wall and the futon, and grasp the kunai.

"Sasuke, what --"

But Sasuke is drowsy and drops on his knees near the edge of the mattress, working the blankets apart with clumsy fingers. And with the same sleepy, drunken moonlit grace he’s under them and next to him.

Kakashi’s hand is tense around a kunai. The hand stays and the teen shamelessly moves closer so that his back presses against Kakashi's chest. He is trapped between the wall and a hard, cold place.

"What are you doing?"

Sasuke doesn't look at him; instead his eyes focus on the pillow. "I need this."

Kakashi muses and keeps his grip on the kunai. It was among many of the darker jokes he's heard and he has thought, maybe, once or twice that it was possible. He knew the Sasuke that woke to nightmares only to turn around in his sleeping bag and force his eyes shut -- maybe for sleep, maybe to hid the tears. He knew the Sasuke that slept alone, far from the others, because he wasn't like them.

"This a normal practice of yours now?" Kakashi asks and feels the body tense.
"I need this, Kakashi," Sasuke says again, his voice faint. It was there, almost, begging. Please?
"I don't think either of us do, Sasuke. Go back to your bed."

Sasuke turned around, messing the blankets at their sides. Dark eyes focus on him in the in the lightlessness, there was no definition between the pupil and retina and Kakashi wondered if there was in the light, either. "I'm not asking for sex," Sasuke said evenly. "I just need this. To be here."

It’s hard to argue against that. The kunai is released and he waits for his student to plunge his own into his chest. Sasuke is still and his neck is oddly delicate in the moonlight. Kakashi can see the seal and remember his own. Failed. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to know, because, really, it’s eating at his insides, but he doesn’t say anything except, “Pull up the blankets.”

Sasuke might have smirked at that but his back is turned. Kakashi thinks it’s better that way and the decided not to think. The puzzle is only a piece now.

He doesn’t realize he’s asleep until he feels it move under his arm. Then he’s awake, bleary and ready. Awake. And Sasuke is looking at his from a sitting position with the blanket at his waist and the too long cuffs to close to Kakashi’s face. But that’s not what’s catching his attention, Sasuke’s hair is down and messy and the lines seem more prominent as the sun rises behind him.

“Good morning,” Kakashi greets and sits up himself, ignoring the fact that he’s bedded with a student, fifteen and partially insane.

Sasuke watches him with those hard eyes that don’t say anything; because Kakashi hasn’t found his window yet, the shutters are all closed. “You’re not going to…?”

“Why would I,” Kakashi says and pushes past his student. Time to shower; time to wake up from the dream. “What is there to tell?”

Sasuke agrees in silence and Kakashi is up, striding toward the washroom, trying not to be to eager to leave the room, trying not the be to slow and feeling the eyes on his back the entire time.

The water is good and cool, but not frigid, and he can’t keep the black seal, hair, and eyes set on pale skin from his head. He does nothing and steps under the shower’s rays.


He hopes it doesn’t, but it happens again and again, Sasuke slipping under the blankets at an obscene hour and pressing his back against his chest. At first he says nothing; then he insists he needs the warmth? Comfort? Presence? Kakashi is willing to provide as long as he can see the seal and know that it’s next to him. A safe place to be.
It happen on the fourth night and Kakashi can’t say he wasn’t expecting it because it was like the stories he read. He’s on his back and Sasuke is opening the blankets again, fingers nimble this time and his body is under them and over him.

“You won’t tell if there isn’t anything to tell, will you?” Sasuke asks in a breath before reaching to touch him -- his lips, maybe because he mask is off and they’re new, something he hasn’t seen. Sasuke’s hair hangs over his shoulders and his other hand has caught Kakashi’s wrist, keeping it away from the wall.

“No,” Kakashi swallows and tries not to shift because Sasuke’s legs are straddling his. “Not unless you make anything.”
The hand stops and the thumb runs off his lips along his jaw and under it, pushing abusively at the flesh and hidden pain point. Sasuke lowers himself so that their chests meet and his head rests half on Kakashi’s shoulder. Exhales run like shivers along his neck as Sasuke lives.

“Naruto hasn’t come back yet,” Sasuke says into his neck.

“No”, Kakashi answers in the same bland tone, counting the paneling illuminated on the ceiling. “No, he hasn’t.”

It’s not like the books, Sasuke is far heavier and the weight of another’s body on top of him is uncomfortable. When Kakashi has had enough and Sasuke hasn’t moved, he rolls and dumps the boy off him. Atleast, that was his intention, because Sasuke hangs onto his neck and stays under him.

And now the situation is becoming more awkward that Kakashi could have hoped. Kakashi braces himself over the boy, looking down into those pale eyes, they eyes of a traitor, a killer, and his student. His hand is at Sasuke’s waist and Sasuke still has an arm around his neck from earlier.

“You’re not a replacement,” Sasuke says before he forces his body against Kakashi, and kisses him with precision.
It’s long and hot because Kakashi doesn’t stop and reacts and lays him down against the futon before using his tongue. He’d given up questioning the sensuality of tongues fucking into each other long before they met and embraces the boy, kissing harder, deeper, suffocating him, because love is violent.

Hands are working at his waistband and he catches the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, breaking the kiss and then working on Sasuke’s. Sasuke’s breathing hard, but Kakashi knows he can’t be winded yet and tossed the shirt off the futon.

He’s conscious that he’s laying kisses across the neck of his student and he’s conscious enough to pull away, draw back, and just stop if anything is wrong, but Sasuke’s responding in whimpers, biting his lips to keep from making anything more than a frantic whisper. His hands are clinging to Kakashi’s back and he thinks momentary that the darkly painted nails will hurt when it gets harder.

He makes it past the waistband, tracing Sasuke’s outline against the material before plunging under the elastic waistband and finding a comfortable grip. By now Sasuke’s dropped one of the arms on his back and shifted the other so it hangs somewhat loosely to his left shoulder. And Sasuke jerks against him, gasping a small breath, as his thumb runs along the underside of his penis. Teasing. Kakashi grips him, working out a steady pattern as the precome begins to aid in the movement.

Sasuke twitches with the strokes and Kakashi wishes the boy would cry out, just once, instead of muffling his noise; but he is surprised by the pressure against his left shoulder as Sasuke pushes himself up and kisses the side of his mouth. Kakashi turns, focusing on both tasks, letting Sasuke reach his mouth and savoring the feeling of a lover because it has been too long since the last.

Sasuke comes in mid kiss and the moan, guttural, is placed against Kakashi’s lips as Sasuke lets himself fall back into the mattress. Kakashi takes the distraction and wipes his hand on the edge of the sheet, noting to wash them in the morning. His hand lingers on a pale inner thigh before he moves, watching for any sigh of resistance and hoping there won’t be. And he can see the beads of sweat collecting like a headdress across Sasuke’s forehead and breathing hasn’t yet slowed. Dark eyes are half lidded and he looks like he might die a beautiful death soon. He strokes the soft flesh twice, knowing it will be the same color as any the part of the boy, pale, like moonlight.

“Do you want this?” Kakashi breathes finally because it only seemed right to ask. His hand travels past Sasuke’s scrotum and farther and Sasuke takes a new breath, his eyes finally meeting, and he hugs Kakashi closer, his words lost in Kakashi’s shoulder as two finger run soft circles before permeating the tightness.

From what he can feel he knows it will be painful, and dry, but Sasuke is sure. He pushes himself off the boy and Sasuke’s response is a contemplative whine until Kakashi kisses his jaw and slips his own pants down far enough to work himself.

It’s not long but long enough and his own precome is smeared across his erection. Kakashi shifts so that Sasuke splays his legs around his waist and he’s open. Sasuke’s already anticipating and hugs himself tight against Kakashi, eyes closed, ready. Kakashi maneuvers himself into the boy, thrusting once to break though, enough to shock Sasuke’s eyes and mouth open.

Sasuke is moaning underneath him, forgetting to hide the sounds every time he moves. It’s almost painful but Kakashi closed his own eyes, enjoying the tightness around him and the voice and friction. Thrust, alternate, fast, slow, hard, deep and then again, and Sasuke’s body shakes again.

It last long enough because Sasuke’s hug is loosening, his chin is thrown back, and when he looks dark eyes are glazed over with some post orgasmic shine. He thrusts hard one last time and comes as Sasuke’s body arches and settles back into the cloth.

Kakashi realizes he can heard the sound of the night over both their breathing and settles to the said of the boy, watching him with attentive eyes because there are still things he wishes to pick up and put together. Sasuke rolls over and faces him. He draws in; resting his forehead in Kakashi’s chest and Kakashi draws an arm around him, stroking his hair, keeping him close.

They stay like that. Just like that. Kakashi can’t help but feel it’s all right -- not completely right, but not wrong either. Just a moment somewhere in the in-between.

.owari.


crossposted to pseudonyme
Tags: content: fanfic
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