Title: Most Wanted Jutsu (2/2)
Characters: Hagane Kotetsu, Kamizuki Izumo, Gekkou Hayate, Shiranui Genma
Warnings: Expletives, referenced sex.
Notes: Still pure crack, now with extra GenHaya.
Disclaimer: Naruto is not our toy, although sometimes we wish it was. Everyone you meet here belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, we just borrow them, occasionally, with the exception of Dana, who belongs to Sweetbriar.
Authors’ Note:(Penbrydd and Sweetbriar) This fic is clearly a sign that we have spent way too much time reading ffrants, over on livejournal. During some late-night conversation or other, we realised that certain bad!fic clichés probably were perfectly possible in the Narutoverse. And so, without further ado, we give you the most wanted jutsu!
This fic takes place (more or less) in the Cut-Glass Heart continuity, during the beginning of the timeskip. The continuity has careened off into an AU in which Hayate (just barely) survived his encounter with Baki.
Warnings: Yaoi, expletives, pure crack. (KoIzu, GenHaya)
Kotetsu leaned on the buzzer for Genma’s apartment, using it for balance as the world spun again. Chakra burn, he was learning, was an entirely world-changing experience. He and Izumo had seriously overdone it over the last two days, and it was a testament to the resilience of youth that either of them could stand at all, nevermind actually walk as far as Genma’s apartment. They’d finally gotten it right, though. At least they thought they’d gotten it right — it would take a little more experimentation once they’d both actually recovered from the hellish amount of damage they’d done to themselves and each other.
A wave of nausea rolled over Kotetsu as the door swung open, changing the air pressure on the stoop, ever so slightly. Genma was staring at him as though he were quite mad, at which point Kotetsu realised he was still leaning on the buzzer. He moved his hand to the doorframe with a sheepish grin. "Man, you are never going to believe what we just figured out how to do."
"Do I want to know? You look like hammered shit, Ko. I hope that’s from failed attempts at whatever the fuck you were trying to do." Genma shook his head and stood aside. "Can you two actually climb the stairs, or do you just want to stand here?"
Izumo blanched slightly at the mere suggestion of climbing the four flights of stairs up to Genma’s apartment, but he seemed to consider it anyway. "Ko?" He glanced at Kotetsu, coughing to clear his throat — still a little raw, it seemed. "Think it’s worth seeing the look on the Gekkou kid’s face?"
"If he even just laughs at us, it’s probably worth it. Happy fucking birthday, Genma. We’re here to make your boyfriend smile." He wrapped an arm around Izumo’s waist and staggered toward the stairs, gesturing for Izumo to precede him.
Genma just shook his head, closed the door and followed the two up. As he walked into the apartment, he called out to Hayate, who was still in bed, buried up to his neck in blankets and generally displeased with the world. "Hey, love? Our pet magpies are here. They say they’ve got something to show us."
The only response at first was a long series of nasty, rheumy-sounding coughs, followed by some grotesque hacking and spitting. Izumo cringed slightly, exchanging a glance with Kotetsu. They didn’t spend too much time around Hayate, but that sounded nasty, no matter who it was.
"Okay," came the croaking voice, strangely subdued.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers, Genma offered the two chuunin an apologetic look before leading them into the bedroom. "Do you want me to get you some more tea?" he asked the wretchedly sick creature whose various bodily fluids decorated his pillowcase. Hayate had lost a lot of weight in the last year, and he didn’t have much to spare, to begin with. There were whispers that he was going to be forced into retirement, in light of the crippling results of his near-death experience. Genma was terrified every time he left on a mission that Hayate would die before he got back — just slip away like the ghost he almost was, these days. Hayate just shook his head, sniffling nasally, and reached out to Genma with a bone-thin hand, beckoning the older man to join him on the bed.
Kotetsu squeezed Izumo’s hand and looked away as his throat tightened. Every time he’d seen Hayate since the exams, he’d been forced to wonder if he’d be able to handle something like that with as much grace and apparent serenity as Genma was taking it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Izumo ever came back to him split open like Hayate had been. "Hey, kid," he choked out. "We brought you something."
At twenty-four, Hayate was hardly a kid anymore — especially not by shinobi standards — hell, he wasn’t much of anything anymore, even if he was too damned stubborn to ever admit to it. He still insisted, even if it was only ever to Genma, Dana, and Raidou, and in between wet coughs and bouts of vomiting up yesterday’s lunch, that he was going to get better, and he was going to be in the field again. Some days, it looked like it could happen — but then there were other days, days like today, when it looked like he was just lucky to be alive.
He was still and always would be ‘kid’ to all of them, though, the baby of the group. And gods forbid he passed, Kotetsu thought fervently, because if he did, then that’d leave Izumo the baby of the group, and — his heart skipped a nervous beat as his mind again tried to draw a line between Izumo and Hayate, himself and Genma, before he crammed that thought into the back of his head and tried to smile along with Izumo at Hayate.
It was encouraging, at least, to see the way the kid’s face lit up dimly at Kotetsu’s words. He seemed to be resignedly used to the way that even his closest friends looked at him now — or sometimes, didn’t look, as was the case with Kotetsu. He was just glad to see them, now. "What do you mean?" he asked, his unsettlingly subdued voice now tinged with curiosity — the same kind of bland curiosity that had made him the quietly inquisitive person he was. The same curiosity that had, in its own twisted way, nearly cost him his life.
Izumo glanced at Kotetsu, clearing his throat a little. "We’ve been, you know — well, we’re us," he said, quite naturally — he was so much better than Kotetsu at controlling the tone of his voice, and for that he was thankful. He even managed to bring a little bit of the mischievous smirk back onto his face. "Kotetsu and I worked out this neat little trick with healing chakra — I’m sure it’ll help spice up you and Genma’s lives a little…"
Kotetsu grinned wickedly. "When we’re done teaching this one to Genma, you might even make it out of bed twice in a week." He wobbled, grabbing Genma’s shoulder for balance. "Testing was a little rough, but we think we’ve got it down to a fine art, now."
"You know, Ko, I’ve seen your definition of art. I think I’m even more concerned now than when you showed up looking like you’d been trampled by an invasion force." Genma wrapped an arm around Kotetsu’s waist, supporting him.
"Thanks. I was on the wrong end of the first attempt. I’m still pretty burnt." Kotetsu sniffed, relaxing as he slumped against Genma. "But it’s safe, now. I think we’ve worked out all the bugs."
"Wrong end my ass," Izumo snorted, finding it a little easier to act natural now. The atmosphere was lightening, and a discreet glance back at Hayate showed that the kid was at least trying to go along with it, looking faintly amused even in his state. "You enjoyed it — you even told me so. Graphically." He grinned at Genma as Kotetsu groaned and buried his face in Genma’s shoulder. "You ever learn to channel healing chakra?"
"I live with who?" Genma stared at Izumo as though the chuunin were completely stupid. "Yeah, I can do it. Not medic-nin levels of it, but I can hold him together long enough to get a medic. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything. Absolutely everything," Kotetsu laughed. "Holy fuck, it’s incredible what that man can do with his —" he stopped suddenly and smirked. Hayate’s ashen face was tinted wtih a bit of colour — embarrassment, even if he did seem to still be amused. For once, Izumo didn’t reach out and slap Kotetsu.
"You really should try it, Genma," Izumo advised, grinning widely. "Feels fucking incredible on both ends. Seriously — it makes the chakra burn all worthwhile. I’ve never had a better fuck in all my life."
"What the fuck are you two —" It suddenly sank in. "Oh, fuck no. You didn’t…" Genma turned his stunned and slightly horrified face toward Izumo as Kotetsu began to snicker against his shoulder. Izumo just kept on grinning.
"Oh, we did. Several times."
Hayate was coughing now, but quietly — he seemed to be choking on his own breath out of sheer shock and embarrassment. But after a few moments, it became apparent that that wasn’t the case — because after a few moments, his laughter, however hoarse and mingled with rheumy coughs, became clearly audible. He was laughing — the kid was laughing. Not just a little dry, quiet chuckle, either — he was shaking slightly with each wheezed-out laugh, his face lit up like it had used to, before the incident. It was the first time he’d really laughed in — well — months, at least. Maybe even longer. Izumo did well to hide his pleasant surprise and just kept on grinning at Genma, even as Hayate doubled over and started really coughing amidst the laughter, though he hardly seemed to mind this time.
Genma left Kotetsu sitting on the edge of the dresser as he moved to sit by Hayate’s side. "Hey, don’t die laughing. I’d be pissed." He grabbed a handful of tissues from the bedside table and handed them to the kid. Rubbing Hayate’s back, all he could think was how incredibly lucky he was to have heard that laugh again. The kid had never laughed much, but the last several months had been especially hard on both of them. "And you two think you can teach me to do this so that I don’t end up like him?" He pointed at Kotetsu.
"Probably. I’m not much for healing so it took me few tries to get it anything like right." Kotetsu laughed and grinned. "It’s why Izumo always gets to scrape my ass off the ground." It’s also why I take most of the hits intended for him. Don’t lose the only medic you have, even if he’s not really a medic. Of course, now… The grin was stuck quite firmly in place as the lechery began to leak into it. Izumo snickered quietly, though he was carefully watching Hayate now as the kid’s coughing began to subside, and he spat into the wad of tissues.
"I’m okay," he wheezed insistently at Genma, the tired smile stuck on his face, though he still rested heavily against the older tokujou while he caught his breath. Hayate honestly seemed happy right then, like they’d actually done a fair bit to brighten up his day — hell, his week. Izumo smiled at Kotetsu, something softer there. They’d actually done it.
"It just takes practice," Izumo offered, nodding at Genma. "Though I’d suggest, you know, jerking it a couple of times to test it before you turn it on the kid. No fair to make him your guinea pig, right?"
"I was going to ask to borrow one of you two for testing purposes — possibly both of you. You’ve already done this. You know how it’s supposed to work. I’m a little afraid of killing him if I only test it on myself — I’m looking at the two of you, and while I don’t figure I’m going to do that to myself, that’s probably only because there’s instant feedback on exactly what’s going on." Genma looked completely honest — sincerely worried, instead of making an excuse to fuck someone who wasn’t going to push him off and start coughing up a lung in the middle of the act.
Kotetsu looked sharply at Izumo before he got control of himself and forced a smug look onto his face. "I told you it would happen eventually. The great Shiranui Genma has been reduced to begging us for sex." He held out his hand to Izumo and sniffed. "I win. You owe me." Izumo snorted, swatting his hand away, but his eyes were fixed on Genma and Hayate.
As far as they knew, Genma hadn’t screwed around in years — hadn’t stuck his dick in anything but Hayate since the war with Kusa. Well, there were those few months a couple years ago, but the two of them had had a falling out that had resulted in Hayate running off with that ANBU girl, and Genma had run himself to exhaustion, fucking everything that breathed, between missions. That had been an ugly time, and Kotetsu could remember having carried Genma back home a few times, drunk and bloody. Raidou had never been upset at being roused from his sleep to take care of his best friend. He just looked sad and tired and occasionally grim.
This time, though, Genma seemed to be motivated by genuine concern for Hayate. It still didn’t sit quite right with him, but he had to admit that Genma had an excellent point. It would be Hayate’s decision. Hayate was the one with something to lose. Kotetsu had never had anyone but Izumo, but if it would keep Hayate alive — truly living instead of just sinking through survival toward the grave — he was willing to break that streak. Besides, it was Genma. He had to admit he’d always been at least a little curious.
Izumo just watched Genma and Hayate — observed keenly as the peaky smile faded away into something uncomfortable, almost frightened. Hayate swallowed a mouthful of spit and phlegm, staring back at Izumo and Kotetsu. What Genma had suggested was obviously striking him in a weak spot — a quiet insecurity that had slowly gnawed a hole in him since the incident. It was true that, with the exception of the time during Hayate’s short-lived affair with Yuugao, Genma hadn’t slept with anyone but him — because he’d been satisfied with Hayate. He hadn’t needed anyone else. But ever since Hayate had so narrowly evaded death that night, things had changed vastly. It seemed that Hayate had lived, since then, in quiet, hidden fear that Genma would leave him, now that he was little more than an invalid, and that fear was only coming to light now.
He turned his gaze on Genma, his dark eyes fixated on the older tokujou’s face. He was hesitant — afraid, even — and even as he sunk lower beneath the blankets into the bed, his eyes never left Genma’s face, as if seeking some reassurance. Genma slipped his arms around Hayate, holding him carefully.
"Look at them, love. They’re serious. They’ve done it." He kissed Hayate’s cheek. "I’m just terrified that if I don’t get it right —" He pointed to Kotetsu. "Are you going to try to tell me that you’d survive that?"
"It’s fantastic if it’s done right — shit, it’s fantastic if it’s done wrong — but he does make a good point about you living through it if it’s done wrong. If he gets it right, though… Seriously, I don’t think I’d be standing up if we hadn’t gotten it right, eventually." Kotetsu shrugged. "Decision’s yours, Hayate. I love my Izumo, but if fucking Genma a few times is what it takes to get him to stay in bed with you all day, then I’ll do it. You look like hell."
Hayate stared at him helplessly, then back at Genma. Izumo fought to keep his face neutral as he watched Hayate leaned in close to Genma, whispering something quietly, apprehensively, in his ear — words that were obviously not meant for Kotetsu or Izumo.
Genma reflexively pulled him closer and kissed him warmly. Regardless of what he thought of the way Hayate tasted, Genma was sure that here was no better reassurance of one’s love than to willingly and gladly plunge one’s tongue into a mouthful of phlegm for a passionate kiss. As he finally drew his lips away, he stroked Hayate’s face and murmured into his ear. Hayate’s face tinged slightly with a dull pink, but he looked significantly less discomfited, now — relieved, even. Shifting on the bed next to Genma, he turned over onto his side and wrapped his thin arms tightly around Genma’s shoulders. He buried his face in the crook of Genma’s neck, breathing deeply, if a little wheezily. Izumo’s brow furrowed slightly as he watched the quiet exchange, catching Genma’s eye. Everything okay here?
Genma smiled serenely at Izumo as he adjusted the blankets, pulling up a corner to wrap around Hayate’s back. Kotetsu kept his eyes on Izumo, as well. Whatever was happening between Genma and Hayate was not meant to be seen — at least not by him, even if it did seem to be in response to something he had said. He just kept his eyes on Izumo, studying every line of his best friend’s face and body as he had so many times before. If anything ever happened to Izumo… Stop that. Stop that right now. You can think those things when you’re alone, but don’t think them here.
Izumo turned away from the silent scene before him and leaned over, as if to say something to Kotetsu, but kissed him on the cheek instead. Hayate stayed clinging to Genma for a long while, before he pulled back, as if suddenly remembering the other two people in the room. He coughed wetly, turning his face away from Genma, and blinked at them apologetically. "Um — sorry," he mumbled; Genma never had been able to break him of his constant apology habit. "I, um…all right. It’s all right. …With me." It was a horribly awkward and vague answer, but the message was clear enough. The look on Hayate’s face was nigh unreadable as he regarded Kotetsu and Izumo — something along the lines of awkward thanks, a deep well of feeling still tinged with stale fear that lingered there, unwanted. And then, finally, he smiled at them, weakly, and dropped back against Genma.
Kotetsu wrapped an arm around Izumo’s waist. "So, now that I’ve offered my ass for unthinkable purposes, I guess I should make sure you’re not going to kill me in my sleep over it. Are you okay with this? I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do it without you." He nuzzled Izumo and looked back at Genma. "No offence, Genma, but if you’re expecting me to show you how it’s done, I’m going to need Izumo. I just don’t think I can get it up for you, man."
Genma just laughed — laughed at all of it. The entire situation was ridiculous, from the concept of the healing cock to the prospect of testing it out on Kotetsu. In some ways, he envied the chuunin — the simplicity of knowing from the start that there was only one person who would ever do it for him and the years of unquestionable love. Kotetsu was putting a lot on the line for him, and if this went well, Genma would owe him for years to come.
Izumo just shook his head, giving Kotetsu a light shove. "He’s picky," he told Genma, half-smirking at Kotetsu. "If I’d had a problem with you offering your ass to Genma, I think I’d have punched your teeth in about fifteen minutes ago." He cracked his knuckles, just to prove his point. "But, I trust you, and if it means the poor kid can finally get a decent dicking…"
Hayate coughed pointedly, looking embarrassed and slightly sulky as he sank into the bed against Genma. Izumo laughed a little. "Sorry, Hayate. No offence meant, there."
The fact that Genma didn’t protest said a great deal. He was notoriously defensive of his abilities in the mind-blowing sex department, but now he just held Hayate, quietly, petting him idly.
Kotetsu looked slightly uncomfortable and sniffed, nudging Izumo’s shoulder with his forehead. "I’m serious about you helping. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to need you to talk me through the whole thing." He grinned up at Izumo. "That and I just love listening to you talk dirty."
Izumo smacked Kotetsu lightly on the shoulder, but more out of principle than anything. "Of course I’ll help. You don’t think I’d just stand there while you and Genma get it on, do you?" He grinned, though a bit softly, at Hayate. "See what we’re doing for you, kid? I hope you appreciate it. And I hope you enjoy the fruits of our labours, after."
Hayate just buried his face in Genma’s shoulder, squirming limply on the bed, but he was so thin and bony that it looked more like a brief twitching. "Thanks," he muttered awkwardly.
As he glanced around the room, Kotetsu was struck with sudden inspiration. "Hey, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. You want a piece of this party, Hayate? Give Genma something he wants to look at while he does this instead of my sorry and significantly less white ass?" He grinned, and Genma choked, looking almost appalled by the idea. It was almost a good idea, but he couldn’t see Hayate taking it well — the kid had always been a little insecure and a lot of jealous. And sure enough, Hayate looked patently horrified, even as subdued as he was.
Izumo turned and delivered a heavy smack upside Kotetsu’s head, glaring at him in disbelief. "The fuck? What are you, fucking channelling Aoba or something? If that’s it, then stop, man!"
"Ow! I’m just trying to be polite! I wouldn’t dare do this without you in the room, even if I could!" Kotetsu rubbed his head and looked mildly annoyed.
"He’s not me," Izumo pointed out tartly, and offered an apologetic look to Hayate. "Sorry, kiddo. He didn’t mean anything by it."
"Um…it’s all right." Hayate managed a faint smile before he pulled away from Genma, leaning over the edge of the bed to spit a mouthful of whatever unspeakably disgusting substance he’d managed to hack up this time into the trash can. Izumo suppressed a mild shudder just listening to him and glanced at Kotetsu.
"Looks like the kid needs a little more rest," he said, though a little quietly — it was hard to tell when Hayate was going to react badly to a comment like that. "And I’m pretty sure Shizune-san’s drowning in paperwork by now. We ought to hit our afternoon shift soon." I think they need some time alone, was the silent suggestion. Give Hayate a little more time to think about this — maybe a little more to smile about.
"I think you’re right." Kotetsu slid off the edge of the dresser and considered his ability to stay vertical. "And I think if Shizune’s up to her eyeballs, she won’t notice if we take a few extra minutes in the file room." He rubbed his palm against Izumo’s crotch before grinning over his shoulder at Genma. "You stay in bed. I know enough to lock your door on our way out."
Genma shook his head as Izumo sharply slapped Kotetsu’s hand away, leaving a mild red mark behind. "Yeah, don’t let me hear that you’ve fucked yourself to death. Who am I supposed to learn from then?"
"Too right. You can wait till the end of the shift, Kotetsu. Besides, you can barely move as it is." Izumo shook his head, slinging an arm about Kotetsu’s shoulders. "We’ll see you guys around, you know? Take care."
Genma lay on his back, hazy and panting, with Hayate collapsed on top of him, fingers still gripping his shoulders bruisingly hard. A slightly shaking Hayate relaxed his grip slightly, feeling his fingers ache — hell, all of him ached, but pleasantly, at least — and he tried to catch his breath, wheezing and rattling on top of Genma. They were both sweat-soaked and satisfied, and Genma’s hand slipped between their bodies so that he could dip his fingers into the white smear across his belly. As he licked his fingers clean, noting that Hayate really did taste sicker than he had before, he found himself extremely grateful to Kotetsu and Izumo. "So was this as good as they said it would be, love?"
Hayate couldn’t quite move, still just struggling to breathe — for a long moment, the only sounds that came from him were thin, wheezy gasps and stuttered coughs against Genma’s shoulder. Finally he spoke, without lifting his head, if only because he had no energy to do so.
"I need you to get me some water, please," he rasped, voice a barely audible croak. "And then you have to come back to bed." A wheezy cough interrupted him, but only momentarily. "And then you’re not allowed to leave."
Genma moaned, loudly, clutching Hayate to him, tightly. "I’m going to go make a pot of tea. Two pots of tea, maybe. And then I’m going to put it all on the nightstand, so that however much you drink, I won’t have to get back up until you tell me to." He kissed Hayate and carefully rolled the little swordsman off of him. "Maybe I should get a bucket, too, and then you won’t have to get up, either." Sliding swiftly out of the bed, he pulled the blankets up over Hayate’s bone-thin body. I’ve missed you, love. With a thoroughly lascivious grin, he headed off to the kitchen, humming quietly to himself. This was warming up to be the best day he’d had in years.