Disclaimer: Naruto is not my toy, although sometimes I wish it was. Everyone you meet here belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, I just borrow them, occasionally.
Author's Note: Yes, kids, I'm finally done with the theoretically three part story... in five parts... In case you hadn't noticed, the internet is for porn, and herein I provide it in abundance.
Warnings: Expletives, yaoi, nosebleeds
Genma very nearly died in that instant, as he recognised the brilliance of the idea and his absolute inability to perform as requested. He was extremely good at dirty -- quick and dirty, for those who liked their pleasures short and to the point, and lengthy and dirty, for those who preferred to ensure that he didn't sleep. Here he was with the only man he'd ever loved, and no idea how to translate that into some sort of sexual act. He decided to stall for time. Maybe if Hayate got impatient, he'd take the lead.
"You know, I think you've managed a first, there," Genma purred, temptingly. "Who would have imagined that you could name something I'd never before been asked to do?"
"Dammit, Genma, stop teasing me." Hayate shoved him back, hard, slamming him into the tree. "I should have known it was stupid to even try to get you to --" He was suddenly distracted by the mouthful of tongue as Genma realised that stalling wasn't going to work. As usual, Genma's kiss was passionate and forceful, but Hayate was surprised to find it slowing down as his lover's warm hands smoothed over his back, caressing gently rather than grabbing or teasing. Genma's fingers worked over Hayate's back, much as they had already, today, drawing out the tension that had settled in, since.
Drawn into the slow kiss, Hayate found himself darting his own tongue into Genma's mouth, just to gain that contact more quickly. It was amazing the effect the assassin's fingers and tongue inevitably had on him -- shy, quiet, sickly Hayate, suddenly kissing with passion, back arched, begging to be taken. It didn't take much to get him there, and he hoped that Genma would be able to figure out how to keep him just shy of that line for a while... It wasn't that he didn't want Genma to fuck him (until his nose bled from the incredible strain it put on his body, if he was lucky) it was just that he wanted so much more, first, but he'd never been able to contain himself long enough to get it. Even now, his hips began to rock gently against Genma's thighs.
Genma leaned back from the kiss, pulling Hayate away from his lips. "No, this is all wrong." He gestured with one hand. "Lie back and let me touch all of you."
Hayate nearly bit through his lip at the suggestion, but did as he was told, smiling expectantly as Genma lay down beside him.
Rolling onto his side, head propped on one hand, Genma let his fingers play over Hayate's chest, tracing rings around the nipples before sliding his palm down Hayate's body with obvious restraint. "Have I mentioned, recently, that I adore you?" Hayate blinked owlishly up at Genma, who smiled at his confusion and continued to ramble. "I love your skin -- the way it's so pale I can see through it." He traced his fingers across Hayate's belly, following the lines of the blood vessels just beneath the surface. "I can sit and watch your pulse flicker like most people would watch a pond of koi." His fingers danced across the pulse points in time to the rhythm of Hayate's heart. "This is why they all think you're made of glass, of porcelain, of some frail and fragile thing. You look so delicate in the afternoon sun." Genma caressed his lover's hip, gently. "But, I know better than that." Pressing his tongue to the side of Hayate's neck, Genma followed the blue lines down his body, pausing at a few important points before slowing to a halt, many long minutes later, with his tongue resting on the back of his lover's knee. Gazing into Hayate's lust-clouded eyes, he smiled seductively, and Hayate felt the world melt out from under him.
Hayate clutched at the grass as Genma lay between his legs, rhapsodising and intermittently lapping at his cock and balls. He would never, he decided, make a request like this again. It was wholly infuriating, if distressingly sweet and loving in that utterly baffling way of which only Genma seemed capable.
"And the smell of you is just intoxicating --"
Hayate cut off Genma's rhapsodic monologue. "I smell like a festering sore, you stupid bastard!"
"No, you don't, love. You taste like a festering sore. Not that I particularly mind. There's a certain peace in coming to terms with systemic decay -- especially when the source of that decay kisses back like you do." Genma grinned lasciviously, and Hayate kneed him in the side of the head.
"Incorrigible bastard."
"More often than not!" With a bright and thoroughly impolite smile, Genma lowered his head and began to gently suck at Hayate's balls, and the thin swordsman slumped back to the ground, largely incoherent.
"...hate you..." he muttered as his hips twisted of their own accord to better present his flesh to Genma's talented tongue. The assassin, of course, took gleeful advantage of the sudden offer, burying his face in the swordsman's crotch and bathing every inch between his lover's navel and knees in spit. Hayate writhed and scrabbled at Genma's back with his toes, tearing out grass as his hands tore at the ground. "Hate you in the best way possible..."
Genma purred and rolled onto his back, resting his head against Hayate's hip and stretching his hand up to the swordsman's face. "Mmm, yes, I think you do... Always in the best way possible." He laughed as Hayate nipped at his fingers, and then gasped when the nipping dissolved into sucking. Sliding his fingers in and out of his lover's mouth, Genma turned his head to the side to resume where he'd left off sucking. Hayate's foot slid down Genma's chest, and the assassin moaned as he felt the toes come into contact with his still half-hard cock. The two lovers fell into a rhythm with each other, of hands and feet and tongues, and each left the other moaning and squirming.
Hayate was the first to surrender, pushing Genma's fingers out of his mouth in order to voice his pleas. "Please, Genma..." There was a rest of the sentence, but it didn't make it out of the swordsman's mouth the first time. "Please, come up here and kiss me." That wasn't the sentence he wanted, either, but at least he could give that one voice.
After one final slow, hard suck, Genma complied, rolling over and dragging himself across Hayate's body before finally claiming the swordsman's thin, cold lips. Hayate's arms wrapped around his back, and they lay a long while on the grass, together, trading tongues and breath. Slowly, Hayate brought up one leg and then the other, hooking his knees over Genma's hips, crossing his ankles on the tall tokujou's back.
"Fingers again." Genma held them up to Hayate's mouth and the little swordsman sucked and licked them lustily, slathering them with spit until Genma pulled his hand away and reached between them, careful not to bump into skin and waste the precious liquid. He rubbed against Hayate's entrance with his fingertips, teasing but not entering, nipping his lover's lips with every playful push.
Hayate's teeth chattered. His eyes rolled back in his head as he stuttered out small noises of pure frustration. Finally, Genma pushed forward, swiftly and seriously, driving his fingers into his lover's thin body, and Hayate arched and writhed beneath him. As the swordsman settled, panting, to the ground, the assassin stilled his hand and gazed lovingly down at him. Genma opened his mouth to speak, but Hayate pressed his fingers to the tall tokujou's lips and shook his head. There were no words that would not be redundant. As Hayate pulled him into a deep and vibrant kiss, Genma began to work his hand against his lover's flesh, again, thrusting and stretching. Hayate moaned nearly continuously into the kiss as he rubbed his body against Genma's warm skin -- in fact, the assassin began to wonder if his lover breathed at all.
Eventually, Hayate wormed a hand down and grabbed at Genma's wrist, pushing his hand away. "More. Now. Please." Retrieving his fingers, Genma switched hands, putting his weight on the dirtied one and bringing the other up to his mouth to fill his palm with spit. He gazed down at the pale swordsman with a combination of love and lust that bordered on quiet but fanatical worship, but the edge of madness might just have been his own control wearing away as he slicked his own flesh with the spit.
An eyebrow raised by the assassin, a head shake from the swordsman, and skin on skin, flesh into flesh, their bodies came together. Groaning and gasping, they tore at each other, desperate for sensation and blinded with pleasure. Genma finally forced himself to slow down, panting as he pried his teeth out of Hayate's shoulder. "Sorry... It's just you. Only you." He was still amazed at the way that Hayate drove him wild -- there was something about the thin, frail, innocent young man with the brutal, powerful, and demanding dragon lurking just below the surface, just barely leaking through the occasional crack in his public face, but wholly in control in his own home.
The little swordsman's only reply was to tighten a few muscles and roll his hips. In the blink of an eye, what little control Genma had regained over his body was gone, and he ravished his lover -- thrusting, biting, licking, squeezing, moaning, and snarling. Hayate held tight to the beautiful assassin, coughing and gasping as each deep, hard thrust shook his body. He panted, struggling to breathe, and dug his ragged nails into Genma's shoulderblades as the world began to waver and his nose began to bleed down his throat. Tighter and tighter his body clenched, joints locking, back arching. Genma's breath began to stutter as Hayate's muscles began to roll in a shuddering swift pattern, and the two lovers found each other's lips, stifling screams of pleasure with each other's tongues as they came together.
Genma lay still for a long time, waiting for the world to stop spinning. His chin rested on Hayate's shoulder, and the little swordsman closed his eyes to avoid staring into the afternoon sun. "Only you," Genma whispered, "Only you can make me just let go."
Hayate smiled, even though Genma couldn't see his face, and settled his arms more comfortably around the tall assassin as he tried, mostly in vain, to swallow the blood clot in his throat. Such, he figured, was the price one paid to have the best of everything at one's disposal.