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Fic: "Not About Love"
Title: Not About Love
Author: redbrunja
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: R
Characters: Kakashi/Sakura.
Summary: There are some lines Kakashi won't cross. He just isn't sure where exactly they are.
Actually, having his entire apartment building burned down for some reason both Sakura and the dead-eyed Rokudaime withheld wasn't that inconvenient.
Sure, it was rather rude to be attacked by masked shinobi right when he was at the climax of Icha Icha Treason but despite the flame jutsus that made his walls go up like tinder, he still had enough time in between attacks to toss the contents of his bookshelves into the middle of his bedspread, throw Mr. Ukki and his two team photos on top of the novels, jury-rig a bag out of his shurikan-printed quilt and walk out the window.
(His father's tantou was pulled from the ashes later, warped and cracked. Kakashi merely shrugged. It had been years since he'd been tempted to use it, anyway.)
No, what was really inconvenient was that he ended up sleeping on Sakura's couch.
Which meant that he came back from missions to a set of rooms that smelled like clean laundry and girl, that when Sakura cooked she made enough for him, that as long as he put her clothes in the wash with his she'd iron his shirts as well as hers.
Which meant that he knew which evenings she didn't sleep alone.
She never brought boys back to her apartment and Kakashi, staring at her empty bed, her whole room so very Sakura-like - medical scrolls on the desk, cream colored sheets, all of it the room of a girl with potential brimming in her blood - had the feeling she won't have brought boys back even if he hadn't been here.
The first time it had happened he'd almost... he still wasn't sure what he'd almost done, what he'd wanted to do when he woke from a light doze to smell Sakura and sex and some unfamiliar male as she crept silently across the living room floor, slipping into the bathroom.
While the shower ran, Kakashi brushed his thumb along his mouth, the scarred pad catching on the cotton of his mask. He wanted to kill something.
It wasn't hard to pick up on the pattern after that.
The fourth time it happened, he fled Sakura's apartment before the sound of her heels faded from the stair well.
Three minutes later, he was in front of the memorial stone with a bottle of whiskey.
When dawn stained the sky bloody, he wandered back towards Sakura's apartment. He'd been too leisurely drinking the alcohol; he was drunk and cold and the images of Sakura wouldn't leave his head.
Sakura, dancing too close to some nameless man, his hands running up and down her back, caressing her rear.
Sakura, skirt shoved to her waist, while he kissed her desperately and tugged her panties aside, fingering her pussy.
Sakura, panting and clutching the sheets while some worthless civilian thrust into her from behind.
Kakashi heard his teeth grinding together.
He stumbled through the door, jealous and too close to sober and turned on and headed for the bathroom.
He didn't hear the water running and he didn't knock, shoving the door open to find Sakura with a towel wrapped around her hips, chest bare and hair wet, staring into the mirror with dull eyes.
She froze.
In the mirror, Kakashi watched droplets of water cling to the line of her collarbone, caress her bud-like nipples as they slipped down her skin, and he almost walked away, had an flippant apology on the tip of his tongue when he saw it.
It was right at the curve of her shoulder, the bottom of her neck, the ugly broken blood vessels where some stupid boy had sucked at her neck, marked her, and Kakashi stepped forward, closed the door and slammed Sakura against it in one motion.
Out in the living room, a picture fell off the wall. He faintly heard the sound of breaking glass.
"Explain to me," Kakashi said, and his voice was dark, familiar, this is what he had sounded like for years in ANBU, after he'd lost Rin and Minato and realized that there was no longer anyone in Konoha for him to return to, "why you're letting them fuck you."
She was pinned to the door, limp, feet dangling above the floor, his grip hard on her arms. Kakashi could think of a dozen ways she could free herself and knew she could as well but she just hung there, even as a harsh light bloomed in her eyes.
"None of your business," she snapped, sounding flustered and familiar, not like a jaded kunoichi would had sex with boys Kakashi didn't know and then couldn't quite manage to scrub them off her skin.
He could faintly smell tonight's fuck; the flat, dull notes of his sweat screaming civilian, even buried beneath Sakura's soap and Sakura's skin.
God, it infuriated him, the smell, the sight of that mark on her neck.
He wanted it gone, all those reminders that she'd been with someone else tonight gone.
He pushed his thigh between hers, rubbed, and she gasped, pupils dilating, grinding herself against him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, grip weak.
He could smell her arousal, impossible to ignore, delicious and dark and female and almost enough calm him.
He shifted his grip on her, pulled his mask down, and didn't kiss her.
Instead he put his mouth over that mark on her neck and bit. He bit quick and hard, tasting blood beneath his teeth.
Sakura make this little gasping yelp, fingers digging into his hair and pressing his face closer against her skin.
He licked at the imprint of his teeth, soothingly, stroking the blood away.
Sakura was panting, shifting restlessly against him.
"Please," she moaned in his ear, and she sounded like Sakura, this was Sakura, she was part of his team, part of his family, she wasn't–
Lucidity returned like a dash of cold water across his face and he stumbled back, stopping when the sink hit the back of his thighs.
Kakashi could hear his breathing, loud in the small space.
Sakura was looking at him, confused. She'd fallen when he'd backed away, and she curled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around herself. She hadn't looked this young since he'd lied to her on top of the hospital.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were in here," Kakashi said, words sounding stiff. He carefully stepped to the side, opened the door (squishing Sakura between it and the wall as he did so) and stepped out of the bathroom.
He was definitely nowhere near as drunk as he needed to be tonight.
He looked around at Sakura's living room, his eye catching on every one of his scant belongings, standing out like bruises amidst Sakura's warm, friendly decor. His quilt folded over the arm of the cranberry-colored couch. His pictures next to her black and silver patterned lamp. His books piled on her coffee table.
Everything looked like it belonged and two steps behind Kakashi was Sakura, acres of pale skin and cotton-candy hair, wet and ready for him and -
~~~
"Of course you can stay here, sempai," Tenzo said stiffly, discreetly kicking a black dress under the couch.
Kakashi politely ignored the way one of Tenzo's coats removed itself from the coatrack behind him and then disappeared. He also ignored the scent of the soap a particular widow wore. As well as the door opening and closing all by itself.
"Please make yourself at home," Tenzo continued and before the words were out of his mouth Kakashi was locking himself in the bathroom.
Author: redbrunja
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: R
Characters: Kakashi/Sakura.
Summary: There are some lines Kakashi won't cross. He just isn't sure where exactly they are.
Actually, having his entire apartment building burned down for some reason both Sakura and the dead-eyed Rokudaime withheld wasn't that inconvenient.
Sure, it was rather rude to be attacked by masked shinobi right when he was at the climax of Icha Icha Treason but despite the flame jutsus that made his walls go up like tinder, he still had enough time in between attacks to toss the contents of his bookshelves into the middle of his bedspread, throw Mr. Ukki and his two team photos on top of the novels, jury-rig a bag out of his shurikan-printed quilt and walk out the window.
(His father's tantou was pulled from the ashes later, warped and cracked. Kakashi merely shrugged. It had been years since he'd been tempted to use it, anyway.)
No, what was really inconvenient was that he ended up sleeping on Sakura's couch.
Which meant that he came back from missions to a set of rooms that smelled like clean laundry and girl, that when Sakura cooked she made enough for him, that as long as he put her clothes in the wash with his she'd iron his shirts as well as hers.
Which meant that he knew which evenings she didn't sleep alone.
She never brought boys back to her apartment and Kakashi, staring at her empty bed, her whole room so very Sakura-like - medical scrolls on the desk, cream colored sheets, all of it the room of a girl with potential brimming in her blood - had the feeling she won't have brought boys back even if he hadn't been here.
The first time it had happened he'd almost... he still wasn't sure what he'd almost done, what he'd wanted to do when he woke from a light doze to smell Sakura and sex and some unfamiliar male as she crept silently across the living room floor, slipping into the bathroom.
While the shower ran, Kakashi brushed his thumb along his mouth, the scarred pad catching on the cotton of his mask. He wanted to kill something.
It wasn't hard to pick up on the pattern after that.
The fourth time it happened, he fled Sakura's apartment before the sound of her heels faded from the stair well.
Three minutes later, he was in front of the memorial stone with a bottle of whiskey.
When dawn stained the sky bloody, he wandered back towards Sakura's apartment. He'd been too leisurely drinking the alcohol; he was drunk and cold and the images of Sakura wouldn't leave his head.
Sakura, dancing too close to some nameless man, his hands running up and down her back, caressing her rear.
Sakura, skirt shoved to her waist, while he kissed her desperately and tugged her panties aside, fingering her pussy.
Sakura, panting and clutching the sheets while some worthless civilian thrust into her from behind.
Kakashi heard his teeth grinding together.
He stumbled through the door, jealous and too close to sober and turned on and headed for the bathroom.
He didn't hear the water running and he didn't knock, shoving the door open to find Sakura with a towel wrapped around her hips, chest bare and hair wet, staring into the mirror with dull eyes.
She froze.
In the mirror, Kakashi watched droplets of water cling to the line of her collarbone, caress her bud-like nipples as they slipped down her skin, and he almost walked away, had an flippant apology on the tip of his tongue when he saw it.
It was right at the curve of her shoulder, the bottom of her neck, the ugly broken blood vessels where some stupid boy had sucked at her neck, marked her, and Kakashi stepped forward, closed the door and slammed Sakura against it in one motion.
Out in the living room, a picture fell off the wall. He faintly heard the sound of breaking glass.
"Explain to me," Kakashi said, and his voice was dark, familiar, this is what he had sounded like for years in ANBU, after he'd lost Rin and Minato and realized that there was no longer anyone in Konoha for him to return to, "why you're letting them fuck you."
She was pinned to the door, limp, feet dangling above the floor, his grip hard on her arms. Kakashi could think of a dozen ways she could free herself and knew she could as well but she just hung there, even as a harsh light bloomed in her eyes.
"None of your business," she snapped, sounding flustered and familiar, not like a jaded kunoichi would had sex with boys Kakashi didn't know and then couldn't quite manage to scrub them off her skin.
He could faintly smell tonight's fuck; the flat, dull notes of his sweat screaming civilian, even buried beneath Sakura's soap and Sakura's skin.
God, it infuriated him, the smell, the sight of that mark on her neck.
He wanted it gone, all those reminders that she'd been with someone else tonight gone.
He pushed his thigh between hers, rubbed, and she gasped, pupils dilating, grinding herself against him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, grip weak.
He could smell her arousal, impossible to ignore, delicious and dark and female and almost enough calm him.
He shifted his grip on her, pulled his mask down, and didn't kiss her.
Instead he put his mouth over that mark on her neck and bit. He bit quick and hard, tasting blood beneath his teeth.
Sakura make this little gasping yelp, fingers digging into his hair and pressing his face closer against her skin.
He licked at the imprint of his teeth, soothingly, stroking the blood away.
Sakura was panting, shifting restlessly against him.
"Please," she moaned in his ear, and she sounded like Sakura, this was Sakura, she was part of his team, part of his family, she wasn't–
Lucidity returned like a dash of cold water across his face and he stumbled back, stopping when the sink hit the back of his thighs.
Kakashi could hear his breathing, loud in the small space.
Sakura was looking at him, confused. She'd fallen when he'd backed away, and she curled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around herself. She hadn't looked this young since he'd lied to her on top of the hospital.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were in here," Kakashi said, words sounding stiff. He carefully stepped to the side, opened the door (squishing Sakura between it and the wall as he did so) and stepped out of the bathroom.
He was definitely nowhere near as drunk as he needed to be tonight.
He looked around at Sakura's living room, his eye catching on every one of his scant belongings, standing out like bruises amidst Sakura's warm, friendly decor. His quilt folded over the arm of the cranberry-colored couch. His pictures next to her black and silver patterned lamp. His books piled on her coffee table.
Everything looked like it belonged and two steps behind Kakashi was Sakura, acres of pale skin and cotton-candy hair, wet and ready for him and -
~~~
"Of course you can stay here, sempai," Tenzo said stiffly, discreetly kicking a black dress under the couch.
Kakashi politely ignored the way one of Tenzo's coats removed itself from the coatrack behind him and then disappeared. He also ignored the scent of the soap a particular widow wore. As well as the door opening and closing all by itself.
"Please make yourself at home," Tenzo continued and before the words were out of his mouth Kakashi was locking himself in the bathroom.