byahoooo | (no subject)

(no subject)

[ All right, that didn't go well.

Kakashi can feel the heated stares of dozens of unhappy council members as he leads Byakuran out the door of the chambers, through the hallway, and out of building entirely. It's bright outside, with the sun shining in a cloudless blue sky high above their heads, and he has his hand pressed lightly against Byakuran's back, guiding him along as they move.

The council never seems to be very happy with him these days, and Kakashi really -- can't bring himself to care. In the end, it's his word over theirs, especially when it comes to this particular matter, and though they have a tremendous amount of authority over him, there's still . . . not a lot they can do to make him cooperate.

He plays by his own rules. They already know that.

He lifts his free hand to block the sun from his eyes, fingers curling in against a gloved palm as he glances down at Byakuran. ]

Are you all right?

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You're always thanking me. It's embarrassing.

[ He laughs quietly at that - at how he says this, at the desire that coils within Byakuran when he says it. He gently takes the glass away when the glass is drained and waits, fingers moving over Kakashi's.

He's closer now, the tiny sips he had of the wine spread on his tongue, just barely enough evidence that he had been drinking as well. Knocking the empty glass over, he twines his fingers with his uncle's, pale mischief in soft lavender eyes.

He's moving, now - closing in his silken web, wrapping around Kakashi so sweetly that he can never leave. ] It's because I have something to confess to you.

Mmn? To me?

To you. [ He agrees playfully, moving in further to press his nose against his in a lazily affectionate manner, before pressing his lips lightly against Kakashi's in a brief, barely there kiss.

He's laughing again then - pulling away a little. ] I'm in love with you, uncle.

Byakuran.

[ He's reckless, pursuing him, gently pushing his hands side and pressing soft kisses against his palm, catlike in his affections. He notes the unnatural response, the fact that the alcohol is doing its job, and he darts in a little further, lapping a little at Kakashi's lips.

Hands cradling Kakashi's face, he kisses his uncle again - a tad clumsily, humming - ] I can taste the wine on your tongue.

[ Another kiss, searching, exploring. He doesn't intend to let the other man go now, not when he's tasted something this good, this unique and intoxicating that it threatens to take his breath away. He'd always imagined what it'd be like, and now, now that he's doing it, kissing his mother's brother - it feels like the best thing in the world. ]

Do you love me, uncle? I love you.

I -- ? Of course I do. But --

Shh... [ He kisses him again, softly now - coaxing and tempting, seducing in the best way he knows how. When he moves his head back, his lips brush barely against his jawline, leaning against him.

Wine laces his breath - and that's important, that's what should Kakashi should remember tomorrow, when all is said is done - and he doesn't resist his hold. ]

...you're dreaming, you know.

[ A soft nuzzle, sensuous in its movement, the way his cheek presses against Kakashi's jawline, the way his lips brush over the older man's neck. He wonders. Wonders. Does Kakashi dream of him, too? ]

I think I need to lie down.

[ He lets him go, feeling the pressure against his pulse, and knowing full well that in this state, Kakashi's fully capable of killing him if he had put his mind to it. But it doesn't deter him in the least - no. The fact that he is a highly dangerous man only adds to the excitement, to the thrill.

He doesn't move away. In fact, he presses his lips against the juncture of his throat, soft white spikes pressed up against Kakashi's chin as a result. His breath is warm, and he speaks quietly. ]

But you promised you wouldn't leave me. [ A soft murmur, and a hand on his chest. ]

Uncle, you promised...

Byakuran.

Do you ever wonder... [ There. There it is, the proverbial Achilles' heel. Byakuran presses his lips against it further, then tongue, warm and tempting. He feels the tingles, the static that comes from such rapidly dissipating electric impulses.

He's entranced, but stubborn, strong-willed and child-like in his want of this man. He wants to have him, he wants it, and he nips so very gently, a hand warm on his chest. His breath is warm, still, and he deftly undoes the vest. ]

...how I would feel under your fingers? [A soft, lazy kiss. ] Do you think I would break? Or maybe...

You're just a --

Edited 2010-04-19 15:06 (UTC)

I'm not a child. [ Byakuran tells him, low and soft in the dim light, watching the uncertainty, the way he clings so tightly to what is right, to what is true and what society dictates. How admirable, that he would be able to resist something like this, that he would say no.

An honorable man - and Byakuran's never seen the likes of that ever before. He's quiet for a moment, before he moves, as well, towards him, reaching for a small paring knife from the nearest counter, nicking his own arm and letting the blood ooze, gradually, slowly, marring white skin. ] I haven't been, for a while now.

Look, uncle. What we have in common - [ He makes sure that Kakashi is looking at him, makes sure that he has his attention. ] - is only blood.

Byakuran. What are you doing?

[ He lets it go, looks down at the wound before he looks back at him - easing his arm out of Kakashi's grip with a lazy smile. He's had much worse, and really, as far as things went, it isn't all that much, even if it stings like hell.

He slips closer to him, then, their faces barely inches apart as he says quietly - ] It's just blood. [ His fingers grasp Kakashi's chin again, lavender blue eyes almost pleading, gentle in its sweet machinations, completely masking the intoxicating manipulations that lie behind it.

His voice is sweet then - soft. ] Don't let me hurt myself again...

Please stop.

[ Something's wrong - something's always wrong in all of this, and maybe it's never really been all right. Byakuran doesn't move when he's pressed against him, warm and solid and there, and he draws in a breath, eyes lidding.

His scent is familiar, unintrusive, and Byakuran finally moves to rest his chin against his shoulder, arms moving to wrap around him tightly. It's an intimate thing, a familiar thing, and he pushes gently.

Pushes again, intent to break that limit, that taboo that Byakuran's never paid too much mind to. There's a delicious sense of forbidden pleasure still, and he's intent to let the other man taste it. His lips is against the copy ninja's ear now, warm and soft, and he continues, quiet. ] Don't let me go.

[ A soft sigh. ] I need you.

[ It's enough for him, because he gently presses his advantage, knows that he has the upper hand here. It's slow, not intended to scare him into anything else, and he tips his face, just a little to the side to kiss him again - pressing his lips over that soft mouth, taking in the face that everyone in Konoha would pay money just to see.

It's slow, inviting, but not enough to startle the older man, no matter how much Byakuran wants to feel him give into the sheer temptation of it. There, that's right.

See? If it's that bad, it shouldn't be feeling nearly this good. ]

[ Byakuran coughs, having not expected that as he blinks at the man who is his only family in the world. He can feel it, the way he gives in to him so deliciously, and he knows that if he pushes hard enough, he can do it again, and again.

With a small, small smile, Byakuran moves - quicker than he's ever done before, cornering the other man against the shelf, eyes darkened with an unmistakable want. He's not going to let him go, because he's tasted it, hasn't he?

And he smiles briefly, leaning up to kiss his cheek, a hand wrapping around Kakashi's. His words are a warm, delicate whisper. ] Please don't say no.

[ There.

There it is, the violence that's always simmered beneath Kakashi's skin, held in check by an indomitable willpower and strength that Byakuran could never have afforded to underestimate. It is here, now, that he realizes how dangerous the other man can be, and it thrills him. It's exciting, the display of it, and it takes his breath away.

Shoved up against the wall, exhaling in surprise, before he draws in a breath, eyes lidding - he barely has time to enjoy the way the other's solid form felt pressed up against him, the way his own reacts and wants more. He clings, draped against him, releasing a quiet whimper (more to bait, to encourage the other than anything). He feels so very good against his mouth, and he savors the pain desperately, seeking him out. The teen pushes recklessly, returns the kiss with a clumsy grace - ] Mmmph.