"I can smell when you lie," Kakashi growled, the faintest touch of desperation winding through his voice. A scarred hand tightened around his wrist; Kakashi's grip tightened in return, fingers stopping just shy of inflicting pain. Genma's scent twisted, bright and raw, almost aching.

What was wrong with him? Why didn't he just take--

Water pounded down on them, plastering Genma's long brown hair to slippery skin, flattening Kakashi's own silver spikes down, half-covering his already masked face. The air was thick with steam, though Genma's shower was colder than Kakashi's had been. His heart hammered in his chest, demanding movement.

Screaming tension, run through with hate and adrenaline and the need to stop thinking, the quaking desire to just feel something (painful, hot and hurting, please god), drove his mouth to the side of Genma's throat. He almost bit down, teeth scraping skin through his mask, but stopped himself.

A please broke itself apart before it ever reached air.

"C'mon, bastard. I'm giving it to you free." His jaw clenched, chakra rippled through. "Just fuck me like you hate me."