you tear down my reason
AUTHOR: kasarin (
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kasarin/FANDOM: Naruto
RATING: Explicit
CHARACTERS: Senju Tobirama, Uchiha Obito
RELATIONSHIPS: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Obito
TAGS: Consensual Sex/Kink, Kink Discovery, Enemy Lovers, Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Clothed Sex, Possessive Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Power Play, Hair-pulling, Dirty Talk, Name-Calling, Scent Kink, Voice Kink, Come Swallowing, Come Eating, Internal Conflict, Misuse of Jutsu, Warring States Period
SUMMARY:
Night has fallen on the Uchiha encampment, leaving large swaths bathed in darkness, the uniformity of night broken by torchlight. Sentries patrol the perimeter, their Sharingan gleaming, promising death to any who dare approach. But Tobirama's shadow clone needn't worry; he infiltrated the encampment days ago.
Besides, an Uchiha has already discovered him.
(a sequel to you're made of my sin)
Night has fallen on the Uchiha encampment, leaving large swaths bathed in darkness, the uniformity of night broken by strategically placed torchlight. Sentries patrol the perimeter, their Sharingan gleaming, promising death to any who dare approach. But the sentries' attention is focused outward, so Tobirama's shadow clone needn't worry. After all, he infiltrated the encampment days ago.
And besides, an Uchiha has already discovered him.
Obito kneels in a woodshed in front of Tobirama, black hair in disarray, gloved hands gripping Tobirama's bare hips. Obito's cheeks are flushed, the torchlight illuminating a thin sheen of saliva on his scarred lips. But his eyes are still dark, staring up at Tobirama with a wide-eyed intensity that might undo a lesser man.
It's the first time Tobirama has looked into an Uchiha's eyes without trepidation. And he can only do so because he isn't really Tobirama: he's just a clone. Even so, he shivers under that gaze, fingers twitching and breath coming too quickly. He doesn't know what to think about those eyes. He doesn't know how to reconcile how good they feel on his skin.
So Tobirama tightens his grip on black hair, pulling Obito closer until that cute nose presses against his skin, spit-slick lips brushing the red line tattooed between Tobirama's navel and cock.
"Come on," Tobirama grunts, careful to keep his voice quiet. They can't risk someone overhearing. Technically speaking, they never can. But this isn't like all the times they've dragged each other from the heat of battle, finding some secluded spot in the woods to fuck. Those were foolish acts of lust, but this? This is pure idiocy. This would get them both killed—Obito immediately, Tobirama once the rumor trickled back to his clan.
So Tobirama keeps his voice quiet, even as he holds Obito's nose against his tattoo, his enemy's warm breath stirring wiry silver hair.
Obito presses his tongue to Tobirama's skin, licking a hot, wet trail along the tattoo, ending just above the base of Tobirama's cock. It's already hard, each heartbeat pounding along its length, condemning Tobirama with every traitorous twitch. He wants nothing more than to push it between Obito's lips, sliding into that too-hot mouth until Obito gags.
But unfortunately, Obito takes his time, slowly licking his way down Tobirama's shaft, the tip of his tongue tracing a vein. Tobirama releases a quiet breath, trying to keep his expression under control. Trying not to show how unsettled he is by the intimacy of this slow, deliberate pace. Trying not to show how desperate he is to be inside his enemy again.
Then Obito speaks, his raspy voice little more than a murmur. "Why do you have these tattoos?"
Tobirama stares. "What?"
"Why do you have these?" Obito repeats, gloved fingers running along Tobirama's hips, tracing the red lines tattooed there.
Scowling, Tobirama jerks Obito's hair, forcing his enemy's head back. "You're not on your knees to talk. You're there because you're my Uchiha whore—or have you forgotten?"
Obito's eyes widen, fingers digging into Tobirama's hips, a flare of raw want flashing across his face. Tobirama watches, fascinated despite himself. Does Obito always wear such expressions? Is this what Tobirama misses when he fucks his enemy from behind, careful to keep those deadly eyes turned away?
Refusing to fall into a reverie, Tobirama uses his free hand to grab Obito's face, his palm on Obito's chin, his fingers and thumb splayed on Obito's cheeks. Squeezing, he forces Obito's jaw open, plush lips parting with a quiet gasp.
"That's better," Tobirama says, staring into still-dark eyes. "Now, remove your gloves."
There's a moment of perfect stillness. Then Obito obeys, tugging off his gloves and setting them aside, leaving his scarred hands bare.
"Good." Tobirama would like to see Obito completely naked, but he's all too aware of their situation, the proximity of every Uchiha a tiny flame in his mind. "Open wider."
Obito does so, his tongue peeking forward to wet his lips, inadvertently brushing Tobirama's palm. Obito's mouth is hot, just like the rest of him. Do all of the Uchiha burn inside, or is it just Obito?
"There's a good whore," Tobirama murmurs, watching as Obito's shoulders relax, a bizarrely blissful look in his eyes. Then Tobirama releases Obito's cheeks, using his freed hand to line up his cock, brushing the tip against wet lips. As if on instinct, Obito licks Tobirama's slit, a move all the more filthy for how demure it appears.
Biting back a curse, Tobirama pushes forward into that hot, wet heat. Obito's tongue presses against him, massaging the underside of his cock, drawing a hissed curse from his lips. "Just like that," he whispers, pushing deeper, shivering as Obito's lips seal tight around him.
Part of Tobirama is wary, warning that Obito is submitting too readily. (Didn't Obito mock him the last time they coupled? Didn't it end with Obito grabbing his face and licking his cheek, all while knowing Tobirama couldn't open his eyes?) But the rest of Tobirama crows in triumph, delighted by this turn of events. In all their times together, he's never experienced Obito's mouth around his cock. He's never felt Obito's scarred lips sliding down his shaft, adding to an already incredible sensation. He's never seen Obito's eyes gazing up at him, wide and wanting, so deep and dark that a man could get lost in their depths.
"Such a good whore," he says, and Obito hums around his cock, hands rising to touch Tobirama's hips. Callused fingers trace his tattoos, following the lines toward his ass, shamelessly groping him. Then Obito abandons the tattoos, one hand sliding to the base of Tobirama's cock, the other slipping down to cup his balls—both touches eager, confident.
This isn't Obito's first time doing this. The realization hits Tobirama all at once, accompanied by a hot, irrational pang of jealousy. Who else has felt Obito's mouth? Who else has seen Obito on his knees? His hand tightens in Obito's hair, pulling his enemy forward, pushing further inside.
Then Obito's eyes widen, surprise flashing across his face as he coughs around Tobirama's cock. Blinking, Tobirama withdraws a few centimeters, only belatedly realizing he must have neared the back of Obito's throat.
… And Obito was surprised.
Immediately, Tobirama revises his earlier assumption.
"Easy," he says, ignoring the implications of soothing his enemy. "Wrap your hand around the base—a little higher. Like that, good. That will keep it from going too deep. If you want to take more, you need to ease into it. Let your throat adjust to the intrusion. Controlling your gag reflex doesn't happen instantaneously."
Obito stares up at him, his wide eyes attentive. Tobirama cuts himself off, feeling foolish. Since when does he care about an Uchiha's comfort?
But then Obito begins to move, head slowly bobbing, sucking and licking Tobirama's cock. His scarred hand remains wrapped around Tobirama's shaft, stroking what he can't take. And it feels—
"Good. That's good," Tobirama says, bringing his other hand to Obito's hair, fingers carding through dark strands. Then, testing a hypothesis, he adds, "You're so pretty with your mouth full."
Obito hums again, his tongue eagerly stroking the underside of Tobirama's cock, cheeks hollowing as he sucks. His free hand resumes its exploration of Tobirama's balls, caressing and teasing them, his touch gentler than Tobirama imagined possible. It would be unsettling if it didn't feel so good, each caress stoking Tobirama's arousal, making him ache to push deeper into Obito's throat.
And why shouldn't he? Why should he care if Obito gags and chokes? Obito was the one who put himself down there, dropping to his knees like he couldn't wait to taste Tobirama's cock. So why shouldn't he fuck Obito's face until his enemy cries?
Tobirama rests his hands on the back of Obito's head, fingertips unconsciously massaging Obito's scalp. They're not lovers; they can't be. They're only enemies using each other for sex. So why does it matter how Obito feels? Why should he care that Obito likes being praised?
And why the hell did Obito ask about his tattoos…?!
"Look how eager you are," Tobirama says, trying to distract himself. "You've been craving this. You didn't even think of alerting anyone. You couldn't resist the opportunity to taste me."
Slowly, he starts flexing his hips, pressing into Obito's mouth with shallow, rolling thrusts. Obito adapts quickly, just as expected, matching the pace Tobirama sets.
"You're lucky we're enemies, Uchiha," he says, trying to keep the breathlessness from his voice. "If you were a Senju, I'd fuck you every day."
Obito makes a noise deep in his throat, though whether it's one of protest or desire, Tobirama can't be sure. But Obito keeps sucking, pushing forward to take more into his mouth, breath coming harshly through his nose.
"You would love getting fucked that often," Tobirama continues, fingers mindlessly combing through Obito's hair. "You would love warming my bed. I would wake you up with my tongue on your neck, my hand on your cock. My beautiful whore."
Obito's moan vibrates around Tobirama's cock, drawing a hissed curse from his lips. Shuddering, Tobirama bites his lower lip, stifling his answering groan.
And then he tenses, head jerking to the side, peering toward the edge of the Uchiha encampment. Something changed. Someone is moving, breaking the regular patrol pattern. Where are they going? Tobirama narrows his eyes, hands moving to the sides of Obito's head, holding his enemy still as he concentrates. The person's chakra signature is familiar, though not as familiar as Obito's. Strong, though not as strong as Madara's. Who is it?
Obito's bare hands move to Tobirama's hips, resting on his tattoos. Tobirama pays it as little attention as possible, simply pleased that Obito has stopped sucking. If Obito were disobedient now, Tobirama would have to cut his losses and vanish.
Then the chakra signature clicks into place, and Tobirama realizes he may have to vanish, anyway. It's Izuna: Madara's little brother and Obito's first cousin. Tobirama frowns, his mind whirling, rapidly reviewing his gathered intel. Izuna should be away on a mission for another two days. Why is he here? Did the mission fail? Did he complete it faster than expected? And why is he moving toward them?
Under different circumstances, Tobirama could reposition himself with minimal chance of detection. But as it is, he can't risk it. So Tobirama raises a hand, starting to make the seal to release his shadow clone jutsu.
Obito's nails dig into his hips, grabbing him, sending bright sparks of pain shooting through Tobirama's body. Grimacing, Tobirama looks down, ready to snap a reprimand before vanishing.
Blood-red eyes glare up at him, shining impossibly bright in the night.
Tobirama sucks in a breath, a spike of panic interlaced with an utterly incongruous thought. (Obito's eyes are beautiful.) Instinctively, he slams his eyes shut, forgetting that the Sharingan can't hurt him. Forgetting that he's only a clone, forgetting that this is the one time he can safely look into Obito's eyes.
Obito's fingers twitch on Tobirama's hips. Then he loosens his hold, fingertips stroking where nails bit in, soothing him. A low hum vibrates around Tobirama's cock, the sound suspiciously placating.
Gathering his wits, Tobirama pries his eyes open, trying not to flinch as he spots gleaming scarlet again. Every ounce of his training screams for him to avert his gaze; every reasonable impulse insists that he complete his hand seal and disappear. Instead, he finds himself staring into Obito's eyes, wanting nothing more than to uncover all their secrets.
Slowly, Tobirama moves his hand to his lips, dropping all but one finger. Shh, he says without a word, warning Obito to stay utterly silent. Obito gives a tiny nod, fingers stroking Tobirama's tattoos again. For a long moment, Tobirama remains focused on Izuna, waiting until the other man changes course. Then Tobirama begins moving his hips, rolling them in tiny, controlled thrusts, gently fucking Obito's mouth.
Maybe it's the Sharingan that does it, hot and heavy on Tobirama's skin, the intensity filling his senses and singeing his flesh. Or maybe it's the heightened sense of danger, Izuna's presence in the encampment like a blade tickling his spine, Tobirama's mind constantly tracking the other man's location. Whatever the case, it doesn't take long before Tobirama nears his peak, his breathing turning shallow, his steady thrusts more erratic.
"I'm close," Tobirama finally whispers, the warning a courtesy he gives without thought.
Obito squeezes Tobirama's hips, Sharingan still bright, lips firmly sealed around Tobirama's cock. He sucks harder, his tongue teasing and massaging, drawing Tobirama closer and closer to the edge. And when Tobirama hits his peak, biting his lip as he spills himself in Obito's mouth, all he can think is how good Obito looks with his lips stretched wide, scarlet eyes flashing with triumph as Tobirama's cum strikes his tongue.
Humming again, Obito gives Tobirama's cock a long, languid suck, making Tobirama jerk and shiver. Then Obito draws away, tipping his head back to show a flash of creamy cum before he closes his mouth, gulping it down.
"Fuck," Tobirama hisses, fingers trembling in Obito's hair.
Obito smirks, leaning in to lick the skin above Tobirama's softening cock, tongue tracing a vein before finding his tattoo. "You're welcome."
Without thinking, Tobirama grabs Obito's shoulders, hauling his enemy to his feet. Then he pushes Obito against the wall of the woodshed, shoving a thigh between Obito's legs as he claims those pretty lips.
Obito sucks in a breath, lips parting in a moan. Tobirama seizes the opportunity, tongue sweeping into Obito's mouth, tasting his own cum. His hands drop to Obito's waistband, fingers making quick work of the ties. Then he pushes a hand into Obito's trousers, grabbing hold of that gorgeous, thick cock, palm smearing precum down the shaft.
Obito's hips jerk, thrusting into Tobirama's grip, his legs squeezing around Tobirama's thigh. Smirking, Tobirama breaks their kiss, whispering against Obito's lips:
"Already so hard," he says, unable to mask the lust permeating his tone. He works his hand over Obito's cock, thigh flexing on each upstroke, mimicking the sensation of his body thrusting between Obito's legs. "And you weren't even touching yourself. You love sucking my cock this much." He kisses his way over Obito's scarred cheek, teeth catching his enemy's earlobe. "You're so fucking hot."
Obito's hands claw Tobirama's back, dragging him closer, panting against the side of Tobirama's neck. "Keep talking," he insists. "Just keep talking."
Tobirama nips Obito's earlobe again, lips brushing it as he murmurs, "I knew you liked my voice. You're so responsive. So attentive. You drink it up, just like you swallowed my cum." He licks the shell of Obito's ear, then twists his grip on the upstroke, delighted by Obito's moan. "You sound so sexy when you're needy. My gorgeous Uchiha whore."
Quivering, Obito buries his face against Tobirama's shoulder. But that doesn't prevent Tobirama from hearing Obito's voice, a muffled "Tobirama" moaned into his shirt.
"You're mine," he says, basking in the heat radiating from Obito's body. "Mine to fight. Mine to fuck. Mine." He inhales deeply, listening to Obito's racing heart. "You're almost there; I can smell it. Come on, let me feel it. Let me taste it." Ducking his head, he licks the side of Obito's neck, the tip of his tongue tracing scars.
Obito shudders, his nails digging deep into Tobirama's back, words lost in a groan. Then his seed splatters Tobirama's hand and wrist, warm and sticky and perfect. Satisfied, Tobirama slows his strokes, milking the last drops from Obito while pressing kisses to his scars.
"So good," he murmurs. "You're perfect. My perfect whore."
A quiet sound escapes Obito. Then he turns his head, lips finding Tobirama's, kissing the words from his mouth.
Have they ever kissed like this? Has it ever felt so relaxed? So natural? Has it ever felt as though they could be lovers instead of enemies?
Shivering, Tobirama breaks the kiss, drawing back as far as Obito will allow—which isn't far. Then he brings his soiled hand to his lips, licking up a stripe of Obito's cum.
"Shit," Obito whispers, his scarlet eyes wide, gaze locked on Tobirama's lips.
Tobirama smirks, inordinately pleased. Then Obito's eyes find his again, and Tobirama's smirk falls.
When did he stop flinching away from those eyes?
Unnerved, Tobirama parts his lips to say something, but nothing comes. He tries to shift his focus, concentrating on anything except Obito. But how can he focus on anything when those eyes won't stop staring at him? How can he speak when he can feel Obito's every exhale against his lips? How can he hear when the air is filled with a thousand unspoken words?
Cursing himself, Tobirama leans forward, lips brushing Obito's in a kiss so soft it's practically a caress. "Clean yourself up, Obito," he says into their shared air, the name he has never spoken aloud leaving his lips like a benediction. Then he pulls away, meeting Obito's stunned gaze for one second before he releases the clone jutsu, vanishing into nothing.
⁂
Far away, the real Tobirama jerks awake, the memories from his clone slamming into him all at once. He stares into space, wide-eyed, struggling to process his new experiences. Struggling not to curl in on himself, the lack of Obito's warmth like a block of ice in his chest. Struggling not to despise himself for how far he's fallen.
Slowly, he drags himself from bed, pushing a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. Then he begins moving around his room, putting himself in order, making himself presentable. He mustn't show his emotions. He mustn't show anything.
Habit and routine kick in, and by the time he checks his appearance in his hand mirror, he appears every inch an honorable Senju. Even so, when he pads to Hashirama's room and wakes his brother, the first thing Hashirama says is:
"What's wrong? You look terrible!"
"Nothing," Tobirama lies. "My shadow clone completed its mission. The influx of information is substantial. You know that, Anija."
Then he brushes the rest of Hashirama's concerned inquiries aside, launching into a report almost detailed enough to distract even himself.
Almost.
Author's Notes:
crossposted to ao3 here. sequel here.