| [May. 17th, 2009|05:41 am] |
Kakashi arched back, a keening, ragged whine spilling out of his throat. He choked it off, drowned it in a shaken inhale, but it was there, burning in the air between them. Genma's teeth grazed his skin--not nearly hard enough. His grip tightened, bright with chakra, drowning Kakashi in the kind of pressure that was good-good-good--
Wrong.
Genma hadn't snapped, hadn't lost his control. He'd gotten worse. His hands were gentle, almost caressing. His breath flushed warm down the side of Kakashi's bare neck. His scent curled through with something like an artic chill, building solid calm out of arousal-anger-fear. Something like mission-focus.
Kakashi had none.
He shuddered, grabbed Genma's wrist--and jerked his own hand away, slamming his open palm against the wall. Pressed back instead, spine to Genma's chest, back to belly, ass to groin. Genma's hand tightened; Kakashi groaned.
"I don't--" He scrambled for words, ribcage heaving. "Don't want your hands." He didn't want to get off first. Didn't want Genma to get him off. He just wanted-- "Genma." |
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