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The woman undulates under his lips, her eyelids fluttering, drawing him in with her dreams. Inviting him, with glimpses of her memory of him, at the pier in the afternoon mixing with her imagination of what could be. Desiring and unwitting. A moan escapes her lips and he smirks, drawing his tongue over her nipple.
Her scent changes slightly and he inhales deeply, the energy so close to being released.
His fingers speed up slightly, phantom touches within her and on her and around her, and it coils, and he groans, opening his mouth and the razor-sharp teeth unfold, glinting, and she wakes, but it is too late, he is there now, riding her orgasm and he sinks into her body, with a sigh.
The woman screams in the throes of his passion, the freezing lust that invites her to stay on the high, in the high, to take him, to warm his icy body, her lust heating his very core.
His mask drops and he bites at her soul, tearing, and she screams again, somehow knowing of the loss while inviting him further with her dreams and body, somehow knowing of the devastating void he leaves behind despite the lust searing her soul, while her body continues to shudder on his thrusts, unable to discern between dream and reality.
Her heart thunders and stutters and he growls, his teeth elongating, twisting his visage horrifyingly in the shadow of her neck.
He feels the heat reach his core and he buries himself deep, his teeth reaching through her body to clamp around her heart.
Life pulses against his teeth, as his seed spills into her.
Maybe something will come of this.
Maybe it won’t.
Half-breeds come and go all the time.
Most of them are mere mortals, with no more supernatural powers than a fly.
Ecstasy rushes through him and he rears up, leaving her tousled bed and fading through the ceiling to bathe in the night sky, leaving no trace behind except the aftershocks viciously wrecking her still, and her life, unknowingly diminished by a decade.
He smiles at the moon, and wipes his mouth.
She will wake tomorrow, spent and tired and sated.
He will be free until tomorrow‘s night falls, when the hunger will be back.
Best to enjoy himself until then.
*******
He eats ice-cream and watches the sun in the blue, his body warm.
He smiles at people milling about, sends little invitations into their subconscious, his teeth hidden carefully behind an illusionary mask.
His chosen physical body is attractive, he knows that.
He uses it to press a finger to the button on a CD player, and turns himself to the soft cadence of his favorite fugue.
*******
Another night, another bar, and his body hungers, the tendrils of the abyss he fights to stay on earth reaching for him with the devastating coldness of space. Promising to feed him, forever.
He knows it to be an empty promise though, the only heat there for the unfortunate ones.
The man is brimming with life, drunk on liquor, and falling into his mouth with the stupid ferociousness of uncaring recklessness, his closed eyes flitting back and forth, while he tries to climb into his lap.
He bites through the man’s soul, tearing.
The man intensifies his humping, bending him back, the dream binding him now, locking him in and around his cold body.
He reaches up, twists his slowly warming fingers in brown hair and snakes his cold, cold tongue into the welcoming heat.
Life, powering up into his victim.
Life, pouring down his throat, bitten out of the soul in big chunks by teeth that defy reason.
His eyelids flutter in sheer divine pleasure as he releases the man, lets him sleep in the dark corner of the seedy bar, while gliding out into the night once more, the physical world only dreaming his existence.
Something blue catches his eye, for just a moment, but he is already floating away, warmth taking all his care.
*******
He goes for a swim in the morning, because he longs for blue.
He doesn’t doubt the impulse, his long life a sheer series of them anyways.
He takes care of his financial status, carefully collected of over time. A physical body needs clothing in this world, which in turn needs storage, and so he spends a some time cleaning his rather small apartment, washing and airing out his clothes.
Warm water that trickles down onto his skin. It is heavenly, especially since it is afternoon and the skin is cooling again, tightening the need.
With it comes the roiling pang of hunger.
*******
Life, life, drawing him in, like the sun.
And blue, and he wants to drown in it.
He groans, gliding through the molecules of reality, shivering with the returning need.
An orange, burning ball of energy, hidden within a body, beautiful and young.
A feast, in every sense of the word.
A young man, dancing to the music. Flirting, too.
He knows he will choose him tonight, will be able to feed without restraint.
He sends the impulse to return home alone to him and play, watches as the golden skin blushes in anticipation.
He follows the energy home, watches as the young man gets ready for bed.
The barely adult body is always ready for sex, wanting it, needing it, and he watches in fascination as the young man now plays with himself, uses toys, as suggested.
The blanket has come off and he can see, unrestricted.
He wonders for a moment how it would be to truly manifest for feeding.
How it would be to press himself fully into the heat, to make a space for himself.
How it would feel to be touched.
He watches the lust crest, watches as the young man lazily cleans himself and then drop into sleep, exuding waves and waves of warmth.
He reaches for the last tendrils of orgasm, plays with them. Flicks his intent at them.
The blonde head on the pillow sighs, shifting his hips, his cock filling out once more.
He smiles sharply and lets his cold fingers glide down the hot body, watches the shivers break out. Legs spread as phantom shapes rise in a dream and he smiles, lets his fingers wander over the still damp opening.
He rolls the balls and he reaches, finds and the moan is heaven in his ears. His hidden teeth worry carefully at a nipple and the golden boy undulates under them, wanting more.
The throat is so temptingly close.
No, not yet.
He lays himself over the body, lets the heat soak into him a bit before gliding in and the young man moans harshly, his lips so wet and he bites into those lips, licking into heat.
The rhythm is fast and perfect, the body around him easily adapting, and his fingers coming up to hold the pretty face gently, suckling on tongue and soul.
Sweet, so sweet.
Devastatingly sweet, and tart somehow, making him want more.
Legs come up and around his hips and he moans into the wet heat, feeling himself heat up, feeling himself coil.
He groans into the addictive mouth, wanting more, needing more, the energy tempting but it’s too soon, isn’t it, too soon for this kind of feast.
Wait.
Make it worth it for him, at least.
The arms around his shoulders tighten, and he’s enveloped in warmth and he sighs, refusing to unfold his teeth, not yet, energy seeping into his very pore, dripping down his throat.
A groan reverberates through the powerful body locked around him, and into him and he tilts his head to get more of the taste, of the energy, his skin prickling and then he cannot hold it back anymore, cannot help himself, the hunger snapping its jaws and he bites down, with his blunt mask-teeth, tasting copper.
The young man growls, low in his throat and then bites back, with endearingly sharp teeth.
His own, hidden teeth unfold as he drops the mask, the subterfuge, tearing out the chunk of life that rises with the scream and he swallows it, his thrusts vicious now, aiming relentlessly and the body around him jerks, and he releases himself, into tight heat, and sticky warmth touches his skin, in pulses.
Belatedly, the sensation, the realization reaches his brain.
Touching his skin….
He rears up, gaze wild, mouth bloody and body almost scorching and throws himself out through the ceiling.
There is a moment as the man beneath him tries to reach for him, blindly, a too long fingernail catching on his brow, and fire travels down his face and across his left eye, burning all sense.
Glass shatters, as his physical body breaks the roof window.
The night sky is cold and he shivers, gasping, his arms wrapped around his torso while falling into a crouch on the cold ground, a mile down the road.
This has not happened before.
Never.
Never in thousands, and thousands of years.
His heart thunders in his chest, and there’s a scratch of a nail on his face.
And scratches down his back.
NOT healing immediately.
He tries to breathe, tries to think.
His physical body was… manifesting. And then… hurt? Even if only in the slightest way?
He shivers, something like terror rushing through him.
What happens if I… die?? Can I die?
The question had simply never presented itself before.
He swallows, deeply unsettled.
This must not happen again.
*******
He tries to stay away.
He does try.
He visits others for 9 nights.
But. Their taste is stale, their heat insufficient.
And… there are glimpses of gold, wherever he goes.
The early morning sun of the 10th day finds him staring down at him.
Blue eyes blink open lazily, pupils wide, blown wide by lust, as soon as they see him.
The energy given off is unprecedented.
His teeth ache with the pulse of need.
He flees again, cursing viciously.
*******
The wound on his face scabs over, scars.
He could heal it if he wanted to, but somehow… without really daring to analyze the impulse, he does not.
He heals the ones on his back though.
Keep the face scar, keep it, this sign of things actually changing for once. This sign of someone touching you, reaching for you.
This sign that for just a moment… you weren’t alone.
He’s glad he is one of the last here, in this physical realm.
Though he’s sure he’ll never hear the end of it if and when he finally has to leave.
Still.
It’s a relief not to have to justify himself now, now when he feels so unmoored himself.
The water plays with pebbles on the river bank.
Something makes him look up, and the blond man smiles at him, softly.
His throat is dry.
He blinks and is gone, leaving the physical world behind.
Coward.
*******
His presence is like the tickling of a feather, on the skin at his neck.
Pinpointing his position.
With increasing intensity.
Calling to him.
It’s disconcerting.
And he just cannot get rid of it, the young man finding him again and again.
Which is a feat in and by itself, and one he doesn’t dare to analyze further.
Golden hair blows in the wind, the eyes catching the color of the daytime sky.
Staying away and vanishing is exhausting.
And feeding is becoming more and more… unsatisfying.
The pang of need is vicious now, and hours early.
He hisses in annoyance, tapping his foot.
A tanned hand enters his vision, reaches for his shoulder, clasps it. The beautiful face with those curious fine lines across the cheeks tilts down to look at him, the blue eyes sparkling. The voice is tinged with sadness and humor and apology, mixing enticingly. “Please don’t run again.” A smile taking the sting out of it. “I apologize for hurting you the other day. Please come and visit me again?”
He looks up, his unneeded breath shallow, his manifested heart beating rapidly. He swallows, his throat clicking, using a voice he hasn’t used in centuries. “You didn’t hurt me, not really.” I allowed myself to get hurt. “But I… I would only hurt you.”
Peeling laughter, carried on sun. “You would give me the best time ever, you mean.”
He snorts, shaking his head once, shrugging. “Practice makes perfect?”
A sharp smile, directed at him. “What is your name?”
He blinks, looking up at the blue burning at him. Giving out his demon name is forbidden, but maybe… he looks at the fields, at the lone shape in it, warding off crows. “Kakashi.”
A quick smile again, and teeth glinting behind red lips. Shaping his name. “Kakashi.” A tongue, licking those lips and he wants to taste it, so bad. “Call me Naruto.”
He blurts out, already knowing. “Is that your real name?”
Another smile, sharp again, with a quirk of an eyebrow. “Is yours?”
He smiles, gently. Kakashi and Naruto then.
He scolds himself for liking it.
The shadow looming over him shifts, sitting down next to him.
Scorching warmth, rushing into him through his left side.
He twitches, torn between vanishing and leaning in.
His voice is a whisper. "Don’t run, please.“
Kakashi swallows, with a sigh. His voice is raw, carried on harsh wisdom. Repeating. Warning. "I will only hurt you.“
Naruto hums softly, leaning in for a split-second. "I can take it.“
No you cannot. Kakashi rubs his face, feels the invisible facemask that hides his real teeth.
He grimaces, pressing the words out. "If I come to you I will hurt you. I might kill you, even.“
Naruto weighs his head. "For now only I have hurt you.“
Kakashi snorts softly. "A memory to mark time‘s passing.“
Naruto quirks an eyebrow. "Do you wish to keep it?“
Kakashi shrugs, looking away for a moment.
He feels Naruto lean in. "You’re devilish handsome with it.“
Kakashi swallows, ‘devilish‘ surprisingly close to what he is after all. He shrugs again, trying to deflect. "If you say so.“
Naruto leans in even more, inhaling deeply, his voice low. "Come to my bed tonight.“
Kakashi freezes, his eyes squeezed shut. "I cannot.“
"Why?“
The question ghosts over Kakashi’s temple, making him shiver and he berates himself for letting Naruto this close, but instead of moving away he leans in, feels the heat of lips.
Needs that heat.
He snarls quietly, more annoyed at himself than anything else. "As I said, I would hurt you.“
Naruto hums again, his left hand dropping rather brazenly to Kakashi‘s groin. "Hurt me then.“ He squeezes-and Kakashi grunts, closing his eyes. Naruto continues, his voice breathless. "Your cold cock was like fire within me, better than anything I ever felt before.“ He tilts his head, his lips over Kakashi’s. "Your body heating up within me made me scream and I have since come to the memory alone sooo often.“ The last words are carried on a moan and Kakashi exhales shudderingly, the hand on his cock scorching.
He leans into the heat, unable to help himself, arching slightly to push into the touch. "I am not human.“ His eyes open, locking onto Naruto’s from short distance. "You know that, don’t you.“
You have seen me disappear more than once.
Naruto’s eyes are almost black, his breath tickling Kakashi’s masked lips. "Yessss, and it’s driving me insane.“
Kakashi swallows, keeping his hands at his side with an effort. "You should be afraid.“
Naruto cackles, filling Kakashi’s whole vision now. "Maybe…“ He tilts his head. "So why have you been running from me then?“
Kakashi cannot help himself, he snorts. A thumb strokes him through the cloth and Naruto smiles at him, his small fangs glinting and a shiver runs down Kakashi’s spine. Weren’t they bigger that night?
Naruto’s voice is a whisper, the tip of his tongue touching Kakashi’s jaw. "Promise me you‘ll come.“
Kakashi whispers as well, brokenly. "I shouldn’t.“
I‘ll kill you. I know I won’t be able to stop if I get another taste. And if… when I do that… I‘ll have to return.
The prospect of having to return to his fellow demons is daunting, to say the least.
But unfortunately not as sobering as it probably should be.
Naruto smiles broadly, drawing his hot breath over Kakashi‘s masked cheek, the hidden teeth beneath aching to taste. "But you will.“
Kakashi swallows, unable to answer.
The hand cupping him squeezes softly. "Promise me.“
Kakashi groans, something in him breaking. He leans into heat and surrenders, with a sigh. "I promise.“
*******
It takes a lot of willpower to stay when Naruto leaves to run some errants, to not take him right there, in the afternoon sun in the middle of the street.
With a lone scarecrow watching from lifeless eyes.
Kakashi shivers, feeling colder than he has ever been, and hungrier, too. And older.
He summons his familiar with the snap of a finger, the low-grade dog-demon looking up to him silently when he materializes. The dark eyes with red glimmering deep in them are cold, with a veneer of fake kindness. "Boss.“
Kakashi folds his hands, looks up at the sun, for a moment. "How is home these days?“
The lower demon snorts, carried on a barking laugh. "Cold as you very well know. Lucifer is still stuck in the ice where he fell, still raging, and the same rules apply. Yadda yadda. Same old, same old.“ The little demon tilts his head. "Why?“
Kakashi smiles, painfully, but also sharply, his mouth watering. "I might return soon.“
I might not be able to help myself.
The demon called Pakkun narrows his eyes. "About time, too. You’re one of the oldest out here… and you’re only able to stay by bending to their rules after all. “
Kakashi hums, noting the disgust with which the familiar addresses the rules employed by the… angels, his white fingers playing with the rays of sun.
Pakkun yawns, scratching his ear. "So what changed?“
Kakashi smirks wryly. "I guess I found my cryptonite.“
Pakkun stares. "Your what.“
Kakashi sighs, glumly realizing he will miss many things indeed, should he descend again. And be forced to feed on those damned.
He won‘t go hungry, ever.
He won‘t be warm either, never again.
Still, the pull to feed on Naruto feels irresistible, his insides churning.
Pakkun looks up at him, his eyes dark and kind and cruel. "You only hurt yourself by letting yourself get close to a mortal, you know that.“
Kakashi sighs. "I know.“
Pakkun shrugs, somewhat indifferently. "If it’s any consolation, he‘ll be waiting for you if you really kill him. ‘Fornications with a demon‘, willingly, if I understand that correctly. That’s the second circle.“ The familiar snickers.
Kakashi swallows down bile. "So you do know. Am I being watched?“
Pakkun stretches lazily. "You’re one of the last Incubi up here. Of course you’re being watched.“
Kakashi hides his face in trembling hands for a moment. His voice is scratchy, raw. "Will they interfere?“
Pakkun weighs his head. "Not sure. They have a lot of fun running their mouths right now.“
Kakashi snorts, bitterly.
He swallows, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "I should descend now, spare him the eternal damnation.“
Pakkun scoffs. "For this statement alone, they will have your hide… you’re an Incubus, you’re supposed to bring souls to hell. But you’re always skirting the edge of judgment by only feeding in their dreams.“ The familiar grins. "Until now at least.“
Kakashi reopens his eyes, unseeing.
Either way… He looks down at the little demon. "See you soon.“
Pakkun grins and vanishes, in a puff of smoke.
Kakashi vanishes through the fabric of reality, following the lure of Naruto’s bright soul.
********
The smile itself is bright enough to illuminate the whole world. Naruto simply beams at him, there on the threshold.
Kakashi shifts from one foot to another, borrowing the line from many a movie, feeling quite similar to the fictional characters he quotes. Cold and potentially deadly. Likely deadly. "May I come in?“
Naruto‘s voice is slightly husky. "Please.“
Kakashi locks their gazes, feeling torn every other way. "Last chance.“ To save your soul.
Naruto smiles, and reaches for him, puts his hot fingers on Kakashi’s cold neck.
And pulls.
Desire and lust and hunger jolt through him.
Kakashi gives up.
Gives in.
It’s my nature after all.
Naruto’s grunt carries surprise as Kakashi throws him against the wall, rolling his hips into him, his mouth pressing Naruto’s open.
He groans, his hands locked around Naruto’s wrists and shifts them so he can clutch them in his left-hand fingers, his right hand dropping to rip Naruto’s clothes off.
He lets his own drop by fading and re-materializing in a rolling motion, never taking off his fingers, never breaking the biting kiss.
Naruto moans sharply when the icy skin touches his, and Kakashi growls, feeling Naruto’s tongue glide through his masked teeth.
The hunger sharpens, by leagues.
Instinct begs, fighting to be released.
Restraint breaks, with the freeing relief of millennia erased.
Kakashi lets go of Naruto’s hands, turns him bodily.
Notes distantly that Naruto has prepared himself.
The smile that is on his lips is vicious.
He presses into Naruto, hears the vicious and surprised cry, and he gasps, feeling the heat envelop him, his teeth aching.
Naruto undulates and pushes back, lowering his stance a bit and Kakashi takes him, harshly, pushes his cold cock deep into the tight heat.
Naruto convulses and gasps, and then laughs and Kakashi growls again, pulling him up and walking him over to the bed, pressing him down on all fours.
He uses his weight to press Naruto’s shoulders down, listens to the almost pained moans, broken by little moaned laughs, and giggled curses, the body under his hands heating up even more with every stroke.
The energy calling to him pulses with ecstasy and Kakashi grunts, the mask dropping and his teeth unfold, and he falls over Naruto’s back, grinding into him now, his body unclenching with warmth, the skin below him burning, slick with sweat.
He inhales deeply, his nose in gold, and he hisses, fighting to make this worth it, somehow, worth the eternal hell waiting for them both.
Naruto screams with a wailing undertone when Kakashi forces another orgasm from him, still fighting the need, still wanting more. He groans deeply, undulating under Kakashi’s unrelenting thrusts, his voice unrecognizable. "More. Give me more. Take me.“
Kakashi roars, his teeth unfolding, his body warm and smooth and alive, the hunger vicious now, demanding its turn.
His teeth find the energy, the soul, and bite down.
Naruto screams, shudders beneath him, in abject pleasure-pain.
Kakashi swallows, his fingers clenching on the hot flesh, reopening his jaws to bite down again.
And again. Again.
Feeding more deeply than he has ever dared.
His seed seals their fate.
The world tilts, and he crashes into the wall, disoriented.
Naruto pushes himself up, his eyes red and slitted, his teeth sharp, come dripping down his legs. Coating his stomach.
His cock still stands proudly, and his expression is exhilarated, mixed with glee.
Kakashi blinks, momentarily stunned and absolutely not understanding.
Naruto giggles, and the lowers himself and crawls over to him, licking his lips. He halts, a foot away, sitting back on his haunches.
Naruto leans forward a bit and raises an elongated fingernail, trails it down the scar on Kakashi’s face. His voice is too soft, too sweet. "The scratches on your back are gone, aren’t they?“
Kakashi gulps, pushing himself into a proper seating position slowly. His long and jagged teeth are out still, unmasked, but Naruto does not seem to mind the gaping maw that is his real mouth, looking at them with … hunger.
What the hell is happening.
Kakashi clears his throat, answering somewhat belatedly. "I heal at will.“
Naruto hums, his eyes glittering. He bites his lips, tilting his head in a decidedly coquettish way. “Could I… actually kill you?“
Kakashi blinks, and then shakes his head, once, eyes riveted to red eyes. "I doubt it.“ Not if I don’t let you. Not if I know.
Naruto smiles at him, sharply. "Good.“
Kakashi cackles. "Good?“
Naruto leans in, licking along Kakashi’s extended teeth. "I need to feed, too.“
Kakashi shudders, his mouth opening and he snarls. "You… lured me? As food?“
Naruto giggles, his fangs growing, tone teasing. "What a novel concept, isn’t it.“ He giggles once more at Kakashi’s flabbergasted expression and then he licks his lips, his gaze dropping down to Kakashi’s chest. He crouches, drawing his lowered head along it, inhaling deeply. “I saw you in the bar, with that guy. I… need to feed on the flesh of man, and your physical body is close enough to smell good to me.” He withdraws a bit, and the jaw is elongated now, just slightly, the eyes tilted, giving him a vague fox-like appearance. His voice drops to a whisper, a hand coming up to touch the corner of Kakashi’s half-open mouth. “We could feed on each other, for all eternity.” He chuckles. “Of course I need to actually try out if you… sate me first.”
Kakashi blinks and then exhales, shudderingly, his gaze riveted to the being in front of him. He blurts out, beyond bewildered. “Who are you.”
Naruto shifts slightly, his muscles rippling. “A half-blood of a punisher demon if I understand that correctly, cursed with too much supernatural powers and the hunger for flesh - and the gift of longevity. I have walked the earth for centuries now, always moving, because my hunger…” He leans close, inhaling against Kakashi’s throat. “My hunger is vicious and cruel. I never wanted this but I am… Imagine my delight when you came to me that night, feeding on my energy.”
“Your soul.” Kakashi’s voice is gruff. “I’m feeding on your soul. If I swallow it all or you die you will go to hell.” And so will I.
Naruto clicks his tongue. “You’re feeding on my energy, my life source, yes. But… I regenerate.” He grins at Kakashi, reaching forward to pull Kakashi in, gently. “Why don’t you take another bite and see for yourself.”
Kakashi groans, shivering with something akin to worship, his senses on overload with warmth and smell and the prospect of eternal food, and heat.
With him.
He lets himself be pulled forward, nuzzles into the juncture of Naruto’s throat and shoulder with a sigh, his exposed teeth touching the hot skin. Naruto shivers against him, with a sigh.
Kakashi opens his jagged teeth wide, and bites down through the material manifestation of skin and bone and tissue, down into the light that is at the core, the light that calls to him, begs him to take a chance, to look, to try, to feed.
Pleasure slams through him, and he gulps another part of the light down, almost frantically, the energy shivering through him, into every cell.
Oh yes, please, more.
The light dims and then flares back up, complete and pure again and he wants to weep, clutching now, rapidly swallowing.
And he is warm, so warm.
Oh heaven and hell, this warmth….
And then he is pulled back by his hair, and Naruto laughs at him, gutturally, and then bends and bites into his chest, tearing at the flesh.
Kakashi screams and his blood pours out and it’s so warm too and he feels Naruto push his snout in, moaning, and the pain is bliss, pure and beautifully terrible, unadulterated and blinding, and Naruto bites down again and the heat intensifies, and Kakashi gurgles, clutching the blond head closer, feels the swallows.
His light pushes him down on the floor, pushes its snout into him and he offers his flesh in exchange for absolution, holding on and basking in the feeling of giving, for once.
He wonders if a demon like he is can feel… devotion.
This need to submit himself to this … purpose.
But then he does not have any other word for what he feels right now.
Any other feeling.
Bliss.
He knows he’s not supposed to feel like this.
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Naruto takes him, eventually, still feeding, gliding into him and mixing the feeling of his feeding bites with pleasure, a horrifically perfect mixture of sensations and Kakashi throws his head back and lets him.
Healing himself to offer more.
The morning comes with the presence of time, reshaping itself. For them.
Kakashi watches the shadows reform, watches the first tendrils of light catch the gold and Naruto tightens his arms, with a sigh.
Kakashi blinks, dimly realizing that this would be the latest he had ever vanished.
He tightens his own arms and nuzzles into the gold and falls asleep instead, dreaming of light, burning his own… soul.
Giving him a soul.
He wakes up, weeping softly.
Naruto is there, kissing the tears away, his eyes brimming with understanding and … love… his blood-smeared face glowing with happiness and delight.
He kisses Kakashi’s masked lips, and Kakashi cannot help but kiss back, the soft remaining thrums and pains of the night’s activities a tether to reality.
Naruto reaches up and brushes a wisp off hair off of Kakashi’s forehead, his smile too pure, too kind. Too gentle for all the red on it. His voice echoes between them. “See? If we feed on each other…” He trails off, and Kakashi swallows, dimly remembering the orgy of flesh and pain and pleasure of the previous night, already seeming so remote.
He blinks, raising his own hand, to brush along a fine eyebrow. “If that is what you want, I’m yours.”
How could I not be.
Naruto chuckles at him, bending down to kiss him once more, his whisper more felt than heard. “Keep the face scar.”
Kakashi receives his kiss like benediction, the corners of his mouth twitching in gentle amusement.
As you wish.
… Guess I won’t go to hell after all.
And… neither will you.
For as long as we can hold onto each other.
Eternity’s beckon changes, and Kakashi tightens his grip and tumbles them over, to the carefree laughter of another … being.
One, very different, and just like him.
And his soul burns.