There were no words, from either man: Itachi chose his silence, but Kakashi had been forced, clenching his teeth to hold back whimpers for the sake of his pride (and wasn't that just laughable for such a fool), to fight off the sensation, greedily pushing out from where Itachi works, through his gut and beyond. He'd be overwhelmed, devoured by it, because Kakashi remained human, and he wanted to succumb to the pleasure on the basest of levels.
But even amid all that, pushed so close to the brink that it hurt, the shock still registered as he felt Itachi's mouth on his own. Why, again why? The thoughts could only be half-formed, however, questions falling second to tongue and teeth, to what Kakashi convinced himself counted as a struggle against that invasion. The sense of rebellion remained, yes, losing but lingering, always that hypocritical pride he held as a ninja. Even as he red flooded his sightless eyes, as his blood pounded in his ears, so long as he had thought, Kakashi clung to the smallest scraps of pride.
His fall was far from gentle, however, Kakashi's hips moving in arhythmic thrusts, desperate, betraying every good intention for that promised moment. He couldn't scream his want, his pleasure and his pain all swallowed by Itachi's kiss. Such a different agony from what had shattered his soul in the Tsukyomi, a beautiful, addictive bliss that provided Kakashi something like what he'd been seeing. In that moment when he finally came, cock throbbing into Itachi's palm, there existed nothing beyond that amazing sense. No guilt or self-loathing, no failure of friends.
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winterfish
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Date: Thursday, 7 October 2010 12:02 am (UTC)But even amid all that, pushed so close to the brink that it hurt, the shock still registered as he felt Itachi's mouth on his own. Why, again why? The thoughts could only be half-formed, however, questions falling second to tongue and teeth, to what Kakashi convinced himself counted as a struggle against that invasion. The sense of rebellion remained, yes, losing but lingering, always that hypocritical pride he held as a ninja. Even as he red flooded his sightless eyes, as his blood pounded in his ears, so long as he had thought, Kakashi clung to the smallest scraps of pride.
His fall was far from gentle, however, Kakashi's hips moving in arhythmic thrusts, desperate, betraying every good intention for that promised moment. He couldn't scream his want, his pleasure and his pain all swallowed by Itachi's kiss. Such a different agony from what had shattered his soul in the Tsukyomi, a beautiful, addictive bliss that provided Kakashi something like what he'd been seeing. In that moment when he finally came, cock throbbing into Itachi's palm, there existed nothing beyond that amazing sense. No guilt or self-loathing, no failure of friends.
Sweet release indeed.