Kakashi had seen Ryouma twist himself out of will-fire and certainty onto unstable ground before, but this was the first time he’d done it on Kakashi’s behalf and not taken Kakashi with him. This was the first time, now Kakashi thought about it, that he’d ever been certain about Ryouma.

He abandoned his shirt, crossed the floor, and backed Ryouma up against the door. Something flickered a little warily behind dark eyes, if Ryouma wasn’t sure whether he was about to be hit or kissed, but he let Kakashi box him in.

Kakashi tapped his fingertips gently against the deepening bite-bruise on one broad shoulder.

“You should bring back pie,” he said. “I don’t have anything sweet in the fridge.”

Some of the uncertainty left Ryouma’s scent. “Would you try it, if I brought it?” he asked testingly.

The thought of blood-sweet cooked sugar wasn’t the most appealing thing, but Kakashi was a ninja; he could eat skunk if necessary.

“On one condition,” he said.

Ryouma lifted his eyebrows.

“Don’t blame me for being late.” He pressed a kiss to Ryouma’s cracked, surprised mouth, wrapped his hands around the too-sharp angles of Ryouma’s hips, and slid down to his knees. Ryouma’s breath hitched raggedly. They’d only ever done this once, an even trade of mouths and challenges and chakra in the aftermath wreck of the mission that had left Ryouma with that bite mark on his throat, and Kakashi with a blade scar in the same place. He still didn’t have a full memory of the fight that had put it there.

But the last time, Kakashi hadn’t been kneeling.

Ryouma’s sheet was pinned between his back and the door, gaping open at his leg, almost kimono-like. Kakashi pulled it aside, stripped his mask back down, and couldn’t resist grazing his teeth over the bloody dagger tattoo inked into Ryouma’s right hip. Lean stomach muscles tightened; Ryouma’s breath hissed between his teeth.

His hand slid around the back of Kakashi’s neck, tangling in his hair. “Can you do that chakra trick again?” he asked, rough-voiced.

Kakashi grinned, inhaled and breathed a shatter of blue-white chakra sparks across Ryouma’s lower belly. Ryouma twitched, ticklish, grip tightening. There had already been plenty of interest, despite the interruption, but now raw thunder rolled through his scent, bringing a tide of heat and want and nothing like uncertainty.

Kakashi let sparks dance between his fingers, tasted them on his teeth; he breathed in against Ryouma's skin, traced a close-mouthed kiss to the side of the thick scar ridging down Ryouma's belly, and ducked his head.

Closed his eye, relaxed his throat, and set about proving that Ryouma was wanted, and he damn well had things to stay for.