you're made of my sin
AUTHOR: kasarin (
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kasarin/FANDOM: Naruto
RATING: Explicit
CHARACTERS: Tobirama, Obito
RELATIONSHIPS: Tobirama/Obito
TAGS: Consensual Sex/Kink, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Possessive Sex, Anal Sex, Power Play, Sadomasochism, Hair-pulling, Spanking, Humiliation, Insults, Dirty Talk, Biting, Heartbeat Kink, Scent Kink, Blood Kink, Enemy Lovers, Dom/sub, Possessive Behavior
SUMMARY:
This isn't the first time they've done this. But as Tobirama pulls Obito's hair, making his enemy arch and hiss beneath him, he tells himself it will be the last. He tells himself that he can't keep doing this. He tells himself that he doesn't want to do this.
Tobirama tells himself all sorts of lies. But he never truly believes them.
The distant sounds of battle have faded, the combatants either dead or outside Tobirama's sensory range. He could expand that range if he chose, picking out the chakra signatures of any survivors, identifying which of his clansmen lived long before seeing their blood-splattered faces. But he can't spare the attention for that. Not now, when the entirety of his focus is firmly on the enemy pinned face-down beneath him.
An enemy. That's what Uchiha Obito is. The fact is as inescapable as Obito's clan, "Uchiha" branded into body, chakra, and soul. Tobirama should despise Obito for what he is. That's what Tobirama's father would have wanted; that's what nearly every other Senju feels. At the very least, Tobirama should treat Obito with the same caution he treats every other Uchiha on the battlefield.
Instead, Tobirama tightens his grip on Obito's hair, keeping Obito's head turned away as he sinks his cock into Obito's hole.
This isn't the first time they've done this. It isn't the first time a purported fight to the death has ended with a clash of lips and tongues and teeth, hands abandoning weaving signs in favor of ripping off each other's clothing. This isn't the first time Tobirama has worked Obito open, exchanging insults and curses while privately marveling at how hot Obito is inside. This isn't the first time Tobirama has yanked Obito's hair, keeping those deadly Sharingan eyes averted while he fucks Obito into the dirt.
It isn't the first time. But as Tobirama pulls Obito's hair, making his enemy arch and hiss beneath him, he tells himself it will be the last. He tells himself that he can't keep doing this. He tells himself that he doesn't want to do this.
Tobirama tells himself all sorts of lies. But he never truly believes them.
"I knew you couldn't keep quiet," Tobirama sneers, his free hand gripping Obito's hip, fingers digging bruises into scarred flesh. He knows how sensitive those scars are; he has mapped the spots that make Obito jerk, cataloging every gasp Obito bites back, every shudder Obito tries to suppress. Sometimes, Tobirama dreams of touching those spots tenderly, kissing Obito slowly, sensually, earning soft moans from plump lips.
Instead, Tobirama drives his hips forward, pushing inside unremittingly, dragging a gravelly groan from Obito's throat.
"As if you can," Obito growls, his fingers digging in the soil, ripping up blades of grass. His hips are raised, spread knees supporting much of his weight. But his chest is pressed against the ground, chin scraping the dirt, face only held aloft by Tobirama's hand twisting in his hair.
"I can speak, Uchiha." Tobirama keeps his voice steady, keeps himself from uttering Obito's given name. "How long before you can't manage that?"
Obito squeezes around Tobirama's cock, muscles bearing down so hard that Tobirama flinches, his hand jerking in Obito's hair. Gritting his teeth, Tobirama reaches around Obito's body, gripping the base of that thick cock and squeezing in turn.
A moment passes in perfect stillness. Then Obito breathes out a low, suspiciously triumphant chuckle. "What a predicament."
"Indeed," Tobirama says, hoping Obito can't hear how tightly he's gritting his teeth. Gradually, he adjusts his grip, loosening it just enough to stroke Obito's cock—slow, frustratingly shallow movements intended to punish rather than pleasure.
Obito's hole quivers around him. Tobirama smirks, knowing that he'll win. Knowing that he always wins. Knowing that, if Obito ever stopped fighting for control—if he ever surrendered himself wantonly—Tobirama wouldn't be able to walk away.
"Your body is begging for it," Tobirama says, still stroking Obito's cock. "I can smell it on your skin. I can hear it in your heartbeat. You're aching for me to ruin you."
Slowly, Obito relaxes around him, an implicit invitation as brazen as they can give. "Those are bold words from someone dripping sweat on my back."
Tobirama pulls out a few inches, thrusting as he leans down, bringing his lips close to Obito's ear. "I'm not bold: I'm certain. I know how prettily you beg."
Obito snarls beneath him, a guttural, animalistic sound. Tobirama thrusts again, hips slamming forward, twisting that snarl into a moan—and isn't that fitting? Isn't it appropriate that Obito's outrage should precede more carnal pleasures?
No, there is nothing appropriate about this. There is nothing right, nothing proper. Once they're finished, there will be nothing but shame in Tobirama's heart, empty promises ringing in his head.
So he wraps his arm around Obito's middle in a faux-embrace, fucking into him hard, fast, relentless, showing his desire in the only way he can.
"You're a glutton for punishment," Tobirama says, his words punctuated by the steady smack of skin against skin. "That's why you come to me, Uchiha. Who else could fuck you like this?" The idea of another person touching Obito digs into him; he draws back from their half-embrace, laying an open-palmed slap on Obito's ass.
"Fuck!" Obito gasps, his body shuddering, back arching as he pushes against Tobirama, impaling himself on Tobirama's cock.
Tobirama stifles a moan, despising how much he loves that feeling. Despising how desperately he wants to wrap Obito in his arms and sheathe himself entirely, fucking Obito with small, steady rolls of his hips. Despising how much he wishes they were lying in a bedroom instead of a battlefield.
They'll never have anything like that. And for all Tobirama knows, Obito already has that with someone else.
So he spanks Obito again, relishing how it makes Obito writhe.
"Answer me," Tobirama commands. "Who else could fuck you like this? Who else knows what a needy whore you are?"
The rapid thump of Obito's heartbeat accelerates, mirroring the shiver that shakes Obito's shoulders. Tobirama tips his head slightly, listening, smelling, sensing everything he can about the sudden spike.
Then he smirks. "How interesting. You like it when I call you that, Uchiha. You like it when I call you a needy whore."
Another shudder wracks Obito's frame. "Shut up, Senju," he snaps, as though his hole isn't squeezing around Tobirama's cock, the scent of precum wafting through the air.
"It's what you are." Tobirama punctuates his words with another spank, smirk widening as he notes the heat beneath his palm. He hopes he leaves a mark; he hopes Obito's skin is tender for weeks. "You're a desperate little whore who craves my cock. You crawl on hands and knees for it. You would love the honor of gagging on it."
Obito tries to duck his head. Tobirama yanks his hair, dragging Obito's head back, ripping a keening moan from Obito's lips.
"Listen to you," he jeers, spanking Obito yet again, drinking in the sounds of Obito's harsh breaths and pounding heart. "You're a disgrace to your clan. They would be ashamed to see you like this."
Between panting breaths, Obito manages to speak. "Which one of us … are you talking to?"
Tobirama goes rigid, his body betraying his outrage, his fury that Obito sees straight through him. Snarling, he pulls Obito's hair again—hard—dragging his enemy upright, forcing Obito to flail and scramble for purchase. He brings Obito's back to his chest, his cock still buried inside—
And then he sinks his teeth into Obito's shoulder, biting until he tastes blood.
Obito cries out, high and loud, his body twisting against Tobirama's. One of Obito's hands reaches backward, nails scratching Tobirama's hip, doubtless leaving bright red lines along the markings tattooed there. The other hand tangles in Tobirama's hair, knocking his hitai-ate to the ground, the Senju symbol resting face-down in the dirt.
"Please," Obito begs, holding Tobirama's face against his shoulder. "Please, Tobirama, please—"
Someone could hear them. Someone could find them. Someone could witness their sin as they rut together, two enemies who ought to be tearing out each other's throats. But if someone did discover them, it wouldn't matter; Tobirama would strike them down instantly, preventing them from ever sharing this secret. Preventing them from ever even thinking about Obito's begging, pleading voice.
This is his. Just his.
Tobirama reaches around Obito's body, grasping that thick cock, stroking it from base to tip. He laves his tongue over Obito's shoulder, licking the blood drawn by his teeth, hoping he never smells more of Obito's blood than this. Then he whispers against bloody skin, voice just loud enough for his enemy to hear:
"My Uchiha whore."
Obito comes with Tobirama's name on his lips, seed splattering the dirt, soiling Tobirama's discarded hitai-ate. His body shudders violently, hands clawing at Tobirama, trying to drag him closer. For just an instant, Tobirama loosens his grip on Obito's hair; for just an instant, Obito turns his head, and their eyes meet.
Then Tobirama squeezes his eyes shut, burying his cock deep as he comes, marking Obito as his, his, his.
For a long, precious moment, there is nothing else in the world. There is no war, no blood feud, no divisions between them. There is only Obito, hot and perfect against him, around him, holding him tightly. There is only this; there is only them.
Then reality trickles back in, and Tobirama remembers himself. He is a shinobi; he is a Senju. He doesn't have the luxury of loving who he pleases—and Obito could never love him.
"You'll have to hide this," Tobirama murmurs, his lips barely brushing Obito's broken skin.
"I know."
Nodding, Tobirama pulls out, and they begin cleaning themselves up without a word.
⁂
Once they have put their clothing back in order, armor and fabric carefully concealing the marks left on each other's bodies, Tobirama breaks the tense silence.
"Don't cross my path again, Uchiha," he declares, wiping his hitai-ate clean while he watches Obito from the corner of his eyes. "I won't be so forgiving next time."
For a moment, Obito does nothing. Then he abruptly pivots toward Tobirama, striding forward with all the confidence of a man certain of victory. Tensing, Tobirama notes that Obito's gloved hands are still relaxed—meaning that whatever Obito is planning involves the Sharingan.
Obito reaches for Tobirama's chin, grabbing it and tilting his head up. Tobirama shuts his eyes, fists clenched, unable to meet that bloody gaze.
"… Say that to my face," Obito says, "and I might believe you."
Tobirama presses his lips together, hating how desperately he wants to meet Obito's eyes again. He can't; they both know he can't. So instead, he remains silent, body rigid with suppressed desire.
Obito leans in, his breath hot on Tobirama's cheek, lips soft against Tobirama's earlobe. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want me."
"Don't insult me," Tobirama hisses through gritted teeth.
A low, bitter laugh ghosts across Tobirama's skin. Then Obito licks a line over Tobirama's bare cheek, tracing one of his markings, claiming him.
Shuddering, Tobirama twists his head to the side, one hand grabbing the back of Obito's hair. Blindly, he shoves their mouths together, answering Obito with a biting, bruising kiss. Then he rips himself away, fleeing with unrivaled speed, leaving Obito and his cursed lips far behind.
He spares no thought to a backward glance. Whatever he may tell himself, he knows it won't be the last time they meet. As long as they're alive, he'll continue dragging Obito from the battlefield. As long as they're alive, he'll keep wanting to claim and be claimed by his enemy.
Schooling his expression back to practiced stoicism, Tobirama fixes his hitai-ate back into place, savoring the faint, lingering scent of Obito's cum.
Author's Notes:
crossposted to ao3 here. sequel here.