[ Distract me, she says, and Kakashi's gaze drifts over to her, studying Ginia for a long, quiet moment.
There is no equivocation about what she's asking for here, and Kakashi understands it far too well, the need to let yourself go by letting someone else in.
There were times in Konoha when he thought night would ever end, when he'd forget what it meant to even be human or if he even was; and when the shadows drew so long he could no longer separate them from himself, the only thing that could ever bring him back from the edge and into himself was to be reminded in the most visceral, physical way that he could still feel anything at all.
Anything real.
Even if it meant being carved up on the inside, bruises blooming on his knees and hips and around his throat, fucked so hard, all he could feel was what slammed into him and the raw, hungry pleasure that overwhelmed the feeling of blood on his hands, the taste of it in his mouth.
He never really did consider it a distraction, so much as it was a process of decompressing, rearranging the parts of himself he could no longer recognize into something that vaguely resembled the shape of a man.
He doesn't know what it was that they did to Ginia that she needs this, too. But the times he's offered himself up to comrades in this way had always been in the aftermath of something terrible. Unspeakable.
(So they spoke with their bodies, instead.)
Reaching out, Kakashi grazes his knuckles against Ginia's cheekbone before his fingers turn and cup her face, tilting her chin up as his mouth comes down in a kiss that is immediately insistent and demanding. Equal parts tender and rough. ]
no subject
There is no equivocation about what she's asking for here, and Kakashi understands it far too well, the need to let yourself go by letting someone else in.
There were times in Konoha when he thought night would ever end, when he'd forget what it meant to even be human or if he even was; and when the shadows drew so long he could no longer separate them from himself, the only thing that could ever bring him back from the edge and into himself was to be reminded in the most visceral, physical way that he could still feel anything at all.
Anything real.
Even if it meant being carved up on the inside, bruises blooming on his knees and hips and around his throat, fucked so hard, all he could feel was what slammed into him and the raw, hungry pleasure that overwhelmed the feeling of blood on his hands, the taste of it in his mouth.
He never really did consider it a distraction, so much as it was a process of decompressing, rearranging the parts of himself he could no longer recognize into something that vaguely resembled the shape of a man.
He doesn't know what it was that they did to Ginia that she needs this, too. But the times he's offered himself up to comrades in this way had always been in the aftermath of something terrible. Unspeakable.
(So they spoke with their bodies, instead.)
Reaching out, Kakashi grazes his knuckles against Ginia's cheekbone before his fingers turn and cup her face, tilting her chin up as his mouth comes down in a kiss that is immediately insistent and demanding. Equal parts tender and rough. ]