Work Hazard: Chapter 5
The next morning, it's a shadow-eyed, uncommunicative and cold Sasuke that makes his way to school with Neji following his every move. He's wearing a turtleneck that hugs his throat too tightly and he keeps thinking of the men that came to do the 'clean-up' during the night. At least the boy-whore will understand that he was left alive only to suffer even more.
Sasuke knows that in the world the slut lives in, failure is not an option. If the lawmen working for Itachi don't kill him, his fellow inmates will.
Kisame's body was dragged away on a stretcher and Sasuke barely had the time to tug away the man's ring before the hired hands started cleaning. When they were done, the only hint of Kisame's existence was the ring that Sasuke still clutched tightly.
Neji has been acting like an overzealous mother-hen since then. Not overtly of course, but everywhere Sasuke goes, Neji follows not a step behind. It seems that just to follow along with Neji, Naruto has started to do the same thing, shadowing Sasuke with suspicious skill.
The first two classes are just a blur to the Uchiha. Even his fangirls have been keeping their distance from him. It might have to do with the positively murderous aura coming from him, or his two newly acquired shadows. At this point, Sasuke doesn't give a shit.
Instead of listening to the teacher, Sasuke fiddles with Kisame's too-big ring around his thumb. He spent three years with the man. Kisame was one of the few people that Itachi trusted enough to leave Sasuke with. Three years is a long time. A long time of trying not to give a shit about the big man. A long time of pretending that the shark-grin, the odd eating habits (Kisame has... had never touched a vegetable in his life), the trash talk and strange words of wisdom meant nothing at all.
“Kid, life's like a brawl, yeah? A struggle. No matter what, y'just hold your head up high an' pretend you don't give a shit. That'll get you through pretty much anything.”
“You are kind of stupid, aren't you?”
“Maybe, but I ain't the one having a throwing a huge pity party over m'self, now am I?”
That was on Christmas the first year. The first Christmas that Sasuke spent apart from Itachi. The big man had always had a way to make Sasuke not miss his brother so much. A way of making him forget the sight of his parent's burning corpses.
A sigh escapes Sasuke and he feels his eyes burning with unwanted tears. Shutting his lids firmly, Sasuke leans his head against his desk and takes deep breaths. He should be used to this. People have been dying around him since he was a child.
“Are you alright, Sasuke-san?” The teacher sounds so concerned, so kind and Sasuke just wants to yell at her to get the fuck away from him.
“Sasuke-san?” Her voice is drawing the attention of the whole class and right now that's the last thing Sasuke needs.
“I'm fine, sensei.” His tone is low, but neutral enough.
“You don't sound fine... Do you need to be excused from class?”
That almost makes Sasuke laugh darkly. He's probably the only student in the entire school who goes to his classes by choice, because none of the teachers would object if he left mid-class. This time though, he feels Neji's gaze on him, can hear Naruto's oncoming rant about taking care of oneself to make a better rival, and he just can't deal with it.
So he nods quietly and stands. The teacher grabs his arm before he gets out of the room and Sasuke tenses up as her fingers press directly into the wound near his shoulder. She notices and immediately lets go, then whispers to him firmly, “Go by the infirmary first, clear?” She hands him a pass which he needlessly pockets. It's not like anyone would question him. They'd just assume he had a good reason to be skipping classes.
He nods, more to get rid of her than anything else, but she lets him go willingly enough. Once in the corridor, finally freed from Neji and Naruto's watch, Sasuke begins to aimlessly walk through the school. He's going to have to stay at Neji's place for a while so he can't leave without the boy, but that doesn't mean he has to be subjected to his presence every goddamn minute of the day.
Sasuke makes his way outside and climbs the fire escape ladder to reach the roof. It's a cold, gray winter day and it suits Sasuke's mood perfectly. He's not wearing a coat, but at this point he couldn't care less.
Slumping down in the snow, Sasuke looks up at the sky. His clothes are getting drenched with icy cold water, but Sasuke doesn't mind. He tries to look for some sort of light within all that gray up there.
“Kisame, do you...”
“Do I what, kid?”
“Do you love Itachi?”
“Just 'yeah'? No explanation? No 'this isn't what you think'?”
“Itachi cares about only one thing in this world, kid, and that's you. So yeah. Who gives a shit what I feel?”
“That's... sort of sad.”
“You think so, kiddo?”
“I think... yeah. I think I might give a little bit of a shit though. A very little bit.”
“Now who's being an idiot?”
“Hmph. You are, as per usual.”
Sasuke can't feel his fingers anymore. He figures he should probably get up before his body grows too numb to climb down. As he painfully makes his way upright, he thinks it's a little too late for that. His limbs respond a second later than they should and Sasuke's body is shivering almost uncontrollably.
Grabbing onto the railing, Sasuke shifts his body weight over the edge of the roof and starts the climb down. It comes as absolutely no surprise that he misses the second step. His fingers aren't fast enough to hold onto the ladder so he plummets down toward the ground.
Closing his eyes, Sasuke forces his body to relax and waits for the impact. If he tenses up, the damage will be much worse.
He's surprised to find himself caught and held in a strong hold instead of harshly meeting the ground. Before he even opens his eyes, he's swept into a princess hold and tugged close to warmth, a coat draped over him.
Sasuke knows who caught him before he sees the man. He can feel it in his gut. It's this same connection he's felt before.
Kakashi doesn't say a word. He has yet to explain his own actions to himself, so he prefers to think on that rather than make idle talk with the teen. Besides it's fucking cold out here. So Kakashi holds the boy close and carries him to the infirmary. That child is freezing, but Kakashi can't blame that for the shiver that goes through his body as he feels the kid's breath on his neck.
Why are you taking care of him? You know what you're going to have to do.
Yet Kakashi doesn't heed that inner voice. He lies the boy down on one of the spare beds and tugs his head up to look at his pupils. The boy's gaze focuses on his and there's just something in there that Kakashi can't escape. It's not the kid's need, not his pain or his anger. It's that glint of spirit, the mute part of him that tells Kakashi he can't leave, can't refuse to be drawn to the boy.
Staring into the boy's eyes, Kakashi finds that he's leaning in before he can reign himself in and his lips touch the cold ones of the boy beneath him. From that moment, there's no stopping himself. He thoroughly kisses the boy, mapping and claiming his mouth with each swipe of the tongue.
This isn't you, Kakashi. You don't take advantage of sick children. For fuck's sake, man, get a hold of yourself.
With difficulty, Kakashi pulls himself away from Sasuke's lips. The boy gives a hint of a smirk, like he just proved something just by lying there and looking delectably molestable. Kakashi notices the increased shivering in Sasuke's frame and he immediately tugs the boy to a sitting position, pulling the wet shirt over his head.
He does not picture something else entirely as he proceeds to undress the boy. He most definitely does not feel a stirring in his pants at the sight of Sasuke's smooth, unmarred skin, his perfectly fit body.
Since he's not shivering with lust and temptation, he doesn't speed through the process of covering up the boy with blanket after blanket. Of course not.
By the end of it, Sasuke still hasn't said a word. Kakashi sits behind him and tugs the boy backwards to share some warmth with him.
“Aren't you going to thank me?”
“Aren't you going to shoot me?”
Kakashi smirks. So the boy knows who he is. “Not if you thank me.”
“For such a deadly hitman, you sure are childish.”
“Look who's talking.”
That has Kakashi blink in mid-surprise. He hadn't expected the Uchiha to give in so easily. The boy is smarter than he'd thought.
Kakashi doesn't ask why he was out on the roof trying to freeze himself to death. He doesn't mention the bandages he glimpsed around the boy's neck, on his arm. He supposes it's none of his business.
It would be so easy to take the boy now. Use the syringe, drug him and take him back to Orochimaru and never think about him again. He could easily do that right here and now and fuck Uchiha Itachi.
“How many people do you think mourned the ones you shot?” The question is asked as Sasuke turns to press his cold nose into the crook of Kakashi's neck, a position that Kakashi instinctively readjusts to guard his throat from the boy's teeth.
“Thirty-eight.” The boy's smell is intoxicating. Even just having him this close is pushing Kakashi's limits in self-control.
“Do you think I'm a child?”
Kakashi remains silent, pondering the question and its meaning.
“I'm probably too old for you, really.”
That gets a snort from Kakashi. “How'd you figure that one, hmm?” Kakashi's fingers instinctively start rubbing circles on the boy's side.
“'Clarity of mind is clarity of passion.' Do you know who said that?”
Blaise Pascal. Born in France in 1623, died in 1662 of a tumor at 39 years old in a hospital of Paris. The information files into Kakashi's mind automatically, but he only responds, “Enlighten me.”
“A mathematician and theologian. Man of church and man of science.” The boy shifts in his arms and kneels up on the bed to lock eyes with Kakashi. “Clarity of mind is clarity of passion. It means a smart man knows his passions. It means denial is a dumb fucking idea.”
And so speaking, the boy leans in closer, barely touching their lips together. He whispers there, caressing Kakashi's lips with his words, “I am no child.”
Kakashi can see the naked expanse of flesh under the blankets covering the boy, can see his too-perfect features, the long lashes, wide black eyes, can smell his breath, feel his tempting lips. Kakashi's left hand fists into the boy's hair and pulls him in for a true kiss. The wanton way Sasuke presses himself against Kakashi has the man working to control his impulses. It wouldn't do to take the boy in the middle of the infirmary.
But hot damn it's going to be hard. Kakashi's free hand grabs onto the boy's naked waist and the contact is electric. From there, there's no stopping it. They're lying in bed with Kakashi half sitting up, Sasuke turned to him and suddenly, the boy properly straddles Kakashi's lap, legs wrapping around the man's waist. Kakashi's right hand is still buried in the soft strands of black hair while his left curls around Sasuke's back, fingers caressing from there and to the boy's ass, cupping the firm cheeks and pulling him closer.
They're still kissing and the quiet breaths and moans coming from the boy make Kakashi delve in deeper, harder, bent on drawing more sounds, more of that desperate grip the boy keeps on his shoulder, more of his taste, more everything.
The shrill sound of the bell announcing the end of the class snaps the both of them apart and Sasuke smirks that infuriatingly smug grin. “Well Mister Hitman, I never knew you were interested in helpless little boys.”
Kakashi smacks the back of Sasuke's head without even thinking about how affectionate the gesture becomes halfway through, “Brat.”
The boy moves away from Kakashi, nearly groaning at the loss of contact. He nonetheless reclaims his wet clothing and dresses. Kakashi watches him go, something in his gut telling him he's never going to bring the boy to Orochimaru now.
At the door, Sasuke pauses and looks at Kakashi. His eyes are serious as he warns, “Itachi will be here soon. It would be best if you disappeared before he kills you.” Then he's gone.
Kakashi can't quite believe that he let any of this happen. He caught the kid, warmed him, kissed him, spoke to him. Bad, bad, bad idea. You don't get close to the target.
But those kiss-bruised lips look so fucking tempting... the soft black hair, the smart mouth, provocative character... No. You're not falling for this kid. You're an adult, a hitman, you are not falling for this kid.
“Clarity of passion, huh?” Kakashi shakes his head to himself. Well fuck.