Genre: angst, smut
Rating: NC -17
Summary: 'Neither of them is ever naked in front of the other. Sasuke thinks that’s probably the only reason they are still together.'
Kakashi can love Sasuke, but only through shields.
Mouths can move only through masks and layers of cloth, damp and dark and smelling of sweat against Sasuke’s lips. Fingers can only fumble clumsily through shirts and pants and vests, brushing against the barriers of zippers and buttons, clasps and ties twisted into stay-fast knots.
Kakashi has sharp edges to him. Sasuke discovers this when he slices open a knuckle on a hidden senbon in Kakashi’s sleeve. He sticks the finger in his mouth and sucks the blood off with a sigh. No drug on the needle, which means that Kakashi doesn't pause in sliding his hands inside the waistband of Sasuke's pants. There are braces of kunai on Sasuke’s thighs and Kakashi skirts these delicately. He knows Sasuke has his edges too.
Sasuke has rules about fucking. He wants it fast and firm and a little bit rough— something where fingers don’t have time to linger, to caress. Sometimes Sasuke can persuade Kakashi to take him from behind and he likes that best because he doesn’t have to watch and Kakashi needs his hands to hold Sasuke steady, not move gently over Sasuke’s body, or tease his tightening skin.
If Kakashi has rules, Sasuke doesn’t know them.
The first time is an accident that Sasuke doesn’t remember much of. Part of that is because at the time Sasuke had been drunk and upset and part of it is because he thinks Kakashi used the sharingan to try and make him forget, only Sasuke has the sharingan too and it doesn't work that way.
What Sasuke does remember seems strange and slightly wrong, like a dream about a memory where things are just skewed enough that you have to stop and wonder what’s real. He remembers feeling sick and dizzy, stumbling out into the street, into the legs of his old teacher. He remembers saying something vaguely childish and Kakashi’s hand on his back as he heaved into the bushes. He remembers fireflies and the moon and pounding his fists blindly into Kakashi’s chest in a sudden fit of rage because why hadn’t anyone told him it would be like this? Why hadn’t they told him?
He doesn’t remember what Kakashi said to him, but he remembers the tone of the words, how calm they were and full of something painful and Sasuke remembers clearly pressing his lips to Kakashi’s in order to stop them.
He doesn’t remember the walk to Kakashi’s apartment and he thinks this is because Kakashi carried him.
He remembers a pressure on his groin and the little shocks of pleasure when Kakashi put his hand there and rubbed. He remembers that his fingers never once touched Kakashi’s skin, and that he really didn’t care, because as long as Kakashi was moving inside him he didn't feel so empty, and as long as it hurt a little bit he didn't hate himself for wanting it.
Sasuke remembers coming--loud and hard and stickily on the sheets, with his pants shoved half-way down his thighs, his shirt bunching around the gloved hand that Kakashi was pressing down on his chest carefully, like he wanted to make sure Sasuke's heart was still beating.
He doesn’t remember if Kakashi came that night or not.
Sasuke can love Kakashi, but only through shields.
When they touch, he closes his eyes and keeps them closed. He imagines Kakashi is doing the same, but he doesn’t risk finding out. He’s glad that Kakashi insists on the masks, on the extra layers between them. If they suffocate in the heat and smell of blood and soiled clothing it’s still better than the alternative.
Neither of them is ever naked in front of the other. Sasuke thinks that’s probably the only reason they are still together.
The morning after the first night, Sasuke had woken up late and crawled out of bed while Kakashi was still in the shower, hoping to find some painkillers in the kitchen drawer for his throbbing head.
The world tilted sickly as he moved and he’d ended up sitting on the couch, knees drawn up to his chest, shivering in all his clothes.
He remembers waiting until Kakashi was dried and dressed before fitting his arms around his teacher’s waist and pressing his cheek into Kakashi’s back.
He had whispered something that sounded like Please and Kakashi had sighed and told him to close his eyes. They stumbled back into the bedroom together, as if they were both blind.
Sasuke still wonders if Kakashi knew he’d only have to say please to Sasuke once.
Kakashi still wonders if Sasuke knew what he was asking.
Kakashi has a rule about fucking. He breaks it every time he presses Sasuke into the mattress.
He was never good at following instructions, and Sasuke never belonged to him in the first place.