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“Holy shit”, Kankuro says, standing totally expressionless at Suna's main gate. “What kind of pathetic excuse for a political envoy are you?”
Kiba grins, showing off his sharp canines. “Please, you know it's just a formality at this point. Temari has practically moved in with Shikamaru.”
“Still. You?” Kankuro grunts, starting to move without looking back.
Kiba easily falls into step, adjusting the straps of his travel bag. “Fuck off! I like to see the world,” he replies, because he doesn’t want to say there was no one else, and they fall silent the rest of the way to the administrative district.
Akamaru trots cheerfully behind, despite how much he'd been complaining about the hot sand on the way to Suna.
“I will assume you already know the itinerary,” Kankuro says. “There’s some stuff for you at reception. Be here ‘til you’re done.”
After signing some documents Kiba probably should have read a bit more carefully, they leave the main building for the one next to it, and Kankuro shows Kiba the room he’ll be staying in. He’s there only for a couple of days at most. After the war, it’s in everyone’s mutual interest to stay best friends with Suna, so they have frequent shinobi exchanges and political visits.
The room is fine. A bed, a table, a bathroom. Someone must have hired an interior designer in the last ten years, since there’s even a carpet and a potted plant.
Kankuro leaves Kiba and Akamaru to their own devices without a word. There’s a small part of Kiba that deflates at the cool reception; it was news to him that he even noticed or cared.
After a quick shower, he leaves his stuff and locks the door, walking around with Akamaru in the rapidly-cooling air.
As the sun sets, he makes his way to one of Suna’s fancy restaurants where Kiba is expected to attend some sort of dinner and talk—not exactly politics, since they wouldn’t have sent him if there was anything big at stake, it’s way above his pay grade—just talk. About infrastructure, maybe. Are the kids learning at school? Is the water clean? How many missions have we completed together? That sort of thing. It’s a show of good relations and Kiba was just useless enough at the moment to be sent to attend it.
Even though it isn’t the super serious kind of politics, Kiba still got a stern talking-to before he left, from both Shikamaru and Hinata, of all people. So he lets Akamaru sit outside with some water and sits himself at the edge of the table, way before anyone else has even arrived. He’s trying to convince himself it’s going to be fun to have to constantly think about using his indoor voice for the entirety of the evening.
To his surprise, it’s Kankuro that arrives next with Gaara in tow. Kiba shakes Gaara’s hand and grins, Gaara nods with a slight quirk to his lips, the formalities ensue. Kankuro is still fucking expressionless. He says nothing to Kiba as they both sit on the other side of the table. More people arrive; guests of all sorts, political or otherwise.
The night passes quickly—Kiba is roped into a conversation about Akamaru, and about the school curriculum, of fucking course, but it’s fine because he gets to talk about how integrating classes with animals can help shinobi with survival in the wild—and at some point he notices Kankuro giving him an odd stare that goes away whenever Kiba looks too hard.
Kiba’s given sake, some spicy thing to eat, it’s good—but his face is red and the flush doesn’t seem to be going away. He’s getting rambunctious, and the people around him either feed off the energy or scoot slightly away. At the end, Gaara gives a tiny speech about how Suna’s been experiencing an economic boom recently, and Kiba raises his glass when he thinks it’s appropriate, people following suit. Gaara seems pleased, and Kankuro is still looking at him in that weird, intense way. He’s too heavily painted for Kiba to notice if Kankuro’s drunk enough to get flushed, too.
When it finally ends, and everyone quickly disperses back to their respective lodgings, Kiba exits the restaurant and sighs into the night. Akamaru yips excitedly at seeing Kiba, and together they take off into a run. A few paces in, Kiba notices they’re being followed. The alcohol seems to drain from his veins as the adrenaline gets him battle-ready.
“Akamaru?” he asks, but before he gets any answer, Kankuro suddenly materializes in front of him, and Kiba skids to a stop.
His heart’s beating a bit too fast now; there was no need for Kankuro to give him that kind of shock. Maybe that’s where the slight shift in his mood comes from, as he squints at the black shape in front of him. “Huh?” he says. “Did I forget something?”
“No,” Kankuro grunts. “Gaara just told me I need to see you off. Don’t want anyone to kidnap the pretty Konoha envoy,” he says, and starts walking in the direction of Kiba’s room.
Pretty? Kiba thinks, a bit indignantly. “I’m rugged,” he huffs as he follows, staring at Kankuro’s back the second time that day. His buff frame seems about the same as Kiba remembers, though smaller somehow. Kiba’s built a lot of muscle in the past few years, so it must be a skewed perspective, since Kankuro’s far from being small himself.
“Not with that blush you aren’t,” Kankuro says. What the fuck? This wasn’t part of Shikamaru and Hinata’s lecture. Is this Kankuro’s freaky way of flirting?
They arrive at the door. Kiba unlocks it, pushing it open with his foot. He stares at Kankuro, Kankuro stares back. They’re silent. Akamaru looks at them questioningly, and then decides to leave on his own, probably noticing the weird mood. Akamaru’s always been smart like that. He’ll come back later.
“So?” Kiba asks. He’s getting frustrated with Kankuro’s extended silences and stares. There’s something wrong, or maybe not—wrong, but different, and it leaves Kiba’s hairs standing on end.
Kankuro just elbows his way inside.
“Did Gaara tell you to keep watch at my bedside too?” Kiba growls, stalking behind Kankuro and shutting the door behind him. Some weird feeling tells him to see where this goes. While he’s locking it, Kankuro disappears into the bathroom but leaves the door open. It’s so weird that Kiba's frozen in place. He can see him using a towel to wipe off the purple paint from his face, and when he comes out his face is so… bare. There’s a dusting of pink on Kankuro’s cheeks and some purple left on his lips and the corners of his eyes.
It seems a bit too vulnerable. Kiba feels like someone just turned up the thermostat.
“I think you’re off your rocker,” is all Kiba says in response to this unexpected behavior.
“It’s just not comfortable for that long,” Kankuro explains, glossing over the fact that he just invited himself into Kiba’s room and removed his makeup for absolutely no discernible reason. Even though they’re barely acquaintances. But maybe he thinks staring at Kiba during dinner counts as conversation.
“So why don’t you go and be comfortable at your own place?” Kiba finally moves, throwing his jacket on the chair and pulling a bit at his collar.
“Bit drunk,” Kankuro says.
“So?!” Kiba exclaims, exasperated. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?”
“Don’t know.”
Kiba gets fed up. He makes his way over to Kankuro and grabs at his collar, attempting to tug him towards the bed so they can sit and talk. Kankuro doesn’t tense against the tug at all, so Kiba misjudges his strength and almost throws Kankuro onto it. Kankuro stares up at him in shock, and his bare face is suddenly way too easy to read. Something odd happens to Kiba’s insides, and before he has any time to think he pushes on top of Kankuro, arms coming to rest on either side of Kankuro's head. Kiba kicks his own shoes off in the process.
Kankuro gives a shove at Kiba’s chest, scowling. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I asked you why you’re here. You said you don’t know. Just taking matters into my own hands,” Kiba grins. Turns out the alcohol didn’t entirely drain from his veins. He’s over here ruining the diplomatic visit, but who can blame him. Kankuro started it.
“Get off me, Kiba!” Kankuro growls, pushing at Kiba a bit harder.
“No fucking way,” Kiba laughs. “Not until you tell me why you’re here.”
Kankuro growls, starting to thrash around with his legs. He pushes at Kiba’s stomach with his boot, and Kiba lets his body drop to the side as he grabs onto Kankuro’s arm. With as much finesse as he can muster, because he doesn’t want to actually hurt the brother of the Kazekage on a fucking political visit, he tugs at Kankuro and flips him over so that he can no longer kick at him from below. Since when did this guy become so uncoordinated? Either he’s really drunk or he’s now letting Kiba manhandle him with barely any complaint.
“Come on, Kankuro, I know you can do better. What's gotten into you?” Kiba says, leaning down to huff in Kankuro’s ear. He can hear Kankuro’s breath hitch and he gives one last, half-hearted shove upwards before he settles down under Kiba’s grip. His face is getting redder by the second.
Kiba doesn’t blame himself for what happens next, because Kankuro has gone sweet and pliant under his arms, despite the fact that Kiba can feel the definition of Kankuro’s toned bicep under his hands. Kiba straddles the other man with his leg, hitching it over both of Kankuro’s and caging him in further, feet lodging themselves under Kankuro’s calves and effectively trapping him. His front rests against Kankuro’s ass, and when he lowers so that he’s laying down on top of Kankuro, he hears something like a gasp that morphs into a grunt halfway through.
“Are you gonna tell me now?”
Kankuro presses his face into the mattress. He makes no move otherwise.
“Was this an elaborate plot?” Kiba asks, pausing for thought. One of his arms shifts higher so he can sort-of knead at Kankuro’s shoulder. He pulls a bit, coaxing Kankuro to look at him. Kankuro’s frowning and his face is beet red, but still. He doesn’t fucking move. Maybe this really is an elaborate plot… but the reason eludes Kiba. Kankuro was beating around the bush so hard he missed the bush entirely. Or something. Kiba massages Kankuro's shoulder in what he hopes is a soothing gesture to the other, trying to coax at least some kind of explanation out of him.
Kankuro's gaze is intense and roving over Kiba's face. It lingers on Kiba's chest and arms, and Kankuro bites his lip a bit. His brow furrows as he glowers from underneath his lashes up at Kiba from his position. Pretty, Kiba inadvertently thinks. Then Kankuro gulps and finally speaks, the words barely making it past his lips as if through a strainer.
“...Want you.”
A world of possibilities opens itself up with that simple utterance. Kiba feels like his heart’s about to beat a hole out of his chest.
“You could have just pushed me against the wall. Plenty of opportunities. And yet you chose this ?” he asks, a bit breathless. To punctuate his words, Kiba grinds down onto Kankuro's ass. His dick's already half-hard from the short scuffle and fills up further as he presses down. He knows Kankuro can feel it through the linen of his pants.
To Kiba's endless astonishment, since Kankuro seems determined to do the weirdest things today, he suddenly pushes his ass up into Kiba, grinding against Kiba's dick. It's plump yet firm and exactly like Kiba imagined Kankuro's whole body must feel like. Instead of more words, Kankuro makes a sort-of keening noise, and that's when Kiba loses it. All the blood goes to his dick as this hunk of a man offers himself up to Kiba, so unexpected and so, so fucking up Kiba's alley.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Kiba growls, and pulls back so he can rip Kankuro's pants halfway down. He lets go of Kankuro so he can knead at his ass, pushing the cheeks together against his hard cock, the muscle flexing under his hands. The material of Kankuro's boxers is soft, but Kiba can't wait to get skin to skin. It's kind of terrifying how quickly he became alright with this idea.
He retreats, giving Kankuro enough space to shimmy the rest of the way out of his pants. Kiba helps, pulling them all the way down and they pool at Kankuro's feet. Taking Kankuro's boots off would be too much effort so Kiba just leaves them there as he shrugs out of his bottoms and immediately goes back on top of Kankuro. There's no fucking way he's letting Kankuro go anywhere now. He realizes he's been growling softly when he nears Kankuro's ear and the man looks up at him with a slightly muddled gaze.
“I'm gonna fuck you so good, Kankuro”, Kiba says, the words out of his mouth before his brain can interfere.
Kankuro groans and shifts a bit, one arm going under him as he adjusts his cock downwards. Its outline peeks out from under his balls where it's pressed into the mattress, and the wet patch of precum at the tip is the hottest thing Kiba has ever seen. Kankuro then brings his hand back to its original position, as if inviting Kiba to hold him down again. Immediately, Kiba boxes him in, going back to press them together. With one hand he tugs the waistband of his boxers down, and his dick springs free, tip reddened and glistening. He pokes at Kankuro's ass and then lower, until his own dick rests atop Kankuro's, and with his free hand Kiba puts pressure on both of them.
Kankuro jerks up at the contact as Kiba starts rubbing their dicks together. The position is weird but Kiba wants to make sure Kankuro's really enjoying this. By the looks of it, he seems to be, as he starts rocking up and down, rubbing his thick cock onto the mattress in tandem with Kiba's motion.
This is insane. He's gonna murder me after, Kiba thinks as he watches Kankuro slowly but surely lose control over his facial expressions. There's no way to know what possessed Kankuro to suddenly act like a bitch in heat and Kiba's cock is the only thing that could save him, but you won't hear Kiba complaining about it.
Kiba pulls back, focusing on massaging Kankuro's balls as Kankuro grinds down on the mattress. His thumb dips in the fabric between Kankuro's cheeks and he drags it upwards, pressing into Kankuro's perineum. Kankuro gives a whine for Kiba's efforts. Seriously. He's in heat.
“What do you want, huh?” Kiba asks, his tone a bit violent.
Kankuro tries to move his arm, possibly to pull his boxers down, but Kiba quickly pounces and pins it back in place.
“Hell no,” he growls, and drags his teeth on the skin in the crook of Kankuro's neck. “You sit pretty and tell me what you want me to do to you, and I'll see if I want to do it.”
Kankuro doesn't moan, but it's a close thing. He pushes his ass up towards Kiba, searching for friction, and Kiba gives it to him. The slow drag of cotton on his dick pulls at his foreskin, and Kiba grunts at the sensation. He's not gonna give in until Kankuro begs for it, though.
“Off,” Kankuro manages, and yeah, that's enough—Kiba pulls back again and rips the boxers down, exposing brown planes of skin and toned muscle. Kankuro's dick gets trapped in the fabric underneath, and Kiba leaves it like that. As he spreads Kankuro's cheeks, exposing his asshole, a thumb skirts lower until it's putting gentle pressure on the ring of muscles.
“Yes, yes,” Kankuro says. He's closed his eyes, and his face is entirely red. Kiba's never seen a prettier sight.
“You want this?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Kankuro keeps repeating, eyes tightly shut as if to shield himself from the reality of his desire.
Kiba presses against Kankuro’s asshole harder, until Kankuro takes a deep breath and the tip of Kiba’s thumb slips inside at the same time as he squeezes Kankuro’s ass. He leans down and hitches Kankuro’s undershirt upwards, trailing kisses on Kankuro’s feverishly hot skin. A broken-up sigh leaves Kankuro’s lips, and Kiba pulls back entirely.
“Since it seems like this was at least somewhat planned, did you happen to have any… lube?” Kiba asks sheepishly.
Kankuro grunts and goes to move his arm, but then aborts the motion as he remembers their unspoken agreement. “Upper left pocket.” He nods his head towards the pool of fabric at his ankles, and then stills once again.
Kiba laughs indulgently. “I take it you don't carry lube around with you for just anyone, yeah?”
Kankuro just buries his head back into the safety of the mattress. Guess they're done talking—Kiba leans down and rummages through the contents of the pocket, finding an unassuming bottle amongst some sealing scrolls. He uncaps it and drizzles some directly on Kankuro's asshole without preamble. A hot wave of satisfaction rushes over him as he watches Kankuro twitch, and then Kiba grins as he squirts some of the thick liquid onto his fingers before using his middle one to breach Kankuro's hole.
He gets up to the second knuckle before Kankuro lets out a shuddering breath, and Kiba pauses, giving him time to compose himself. Once it seems like he can go further, Kiba starts fingering Kankuro in earnest, pushing his middle finger in and out and watching Kankuro start coming apart at the seams. Soon enough, a second finger joins in, and Kiba finds himself entranced by Kankuro's sudden twitchiness, his labored breaths, his stubborn unwillingness to let go entirely as he grips the sheets in his fist.
“More?” Kiba asks, almost a request. He's dripping precum from his untouched cock, and he'll almost start fucking the air for how turned on he is.
“Unh,” Kankuro says, and then, “Oh!” as Kiba unceremoniously shoves a third finger in after scissoring the first two. “F–” the beginning of a word, before Kankuro cuts himself off.
“If you didn't want me to hear you, you should have brought a gag,” Kiba says jokingly, though his gaze darkens at the idea. Maybe next time?
He pulls his fingers back, assessing. Kankuro twitches against nothing and pushes his ass a bit more in the air, which drags his boxers a bit further down and exposes his dick entirely. Kiba gulps as he considers the thickness of it, how it might feel stretching him. Fuck the gag, next time he wants Kankuro buried deep inside while Kiba moans his name—but he shouldn't be getting ahead of himself. Kankuro's finally gonna get what he—in the least obvious fashion possible—asked for. Before moving on, Kiba tugs a little at Kankuro's cock, and smiles at how Kankuro almost-moans at the sensation.
Instead of asking, Kiba burrows inside Kankuro's pocket and is happy to find his assumption was correct; a pack of condoms is there as well, and he leans down to kiss Kankuro down his back, peppering kisses along his spine to his tailbone, where he stops to bite down on the globes of Kankuro's ass.
Kiba busies himself with putting on the condom, and when he looks back up he finds Kankuro staring again with obvious desire in his eyes. He feels a bit heady; it's one thing to assume his way into Kankuro's pants, another thing entirely to see the naked want dripping from Kankuro's gaze, the way his lips are red from how hard he'd been biting them just to stay quiet under Kiba's patient preparation.
“Ready?” Kiba whispers, pretenses of aggression forgotten. Though it's hot to be rough, he somehow doesn't want this first time between them to be so uncaring. He leans in closer, rubbing his dick between Kankuro's cheeks before pressing the head against the entrance.
A mutual intake of breath; and Kankuro nods. Instead of turning away like Kiba half-expected, Kankuro stays looking directly into Kiba's eyes as Kiba finally starts pushing in, agonizingly slowly.
Kiba can see Kankuro's jaw going slack at the feeling, and Kiba's dick twitches even as he's only halfway in.
“So fucking tight,” Kiba moans, closing his eyes tightly shut and trying not to cum then and there.
After a few beats of his frenzied heart, Kiba continues pushing in, leaning down a bit and grabbing onto Kankuro's hips. Kankuro's still staring but his gaze is becoming unfocused, and Kiba's definitely looking forward to making Kankuro lose it entirely. For that noble reason, he takes a deep breath and steadies himself, willing his dick not to explode prematurely against his wishes before bottoming out inside of Kankuro.
Finally, finally, Kankuro moans—it's low and drawn out, and his fists flex once before relaxing. Kiba sees red at the sound, pulling back and thrusting back in, starting a slow rhythm that breaks up Kankuro's moan into shorter sounds as his breath hitches.
“Oh my–fuck, you're so tight, Kankuro,” Kiba finds himself saying, unable to control his running mouth. “Your ass is the best thing that's ever happened to me,” and he'll definitely be embarrassed by that one come morning, but right now it seems like Kiba's ridiculous dirty talk is working for Kankuro. He lifts up one arm and shoves it backwards at Kiba, and Kiba, to his credit, immediately understands.
One hand grabs onto Kankuro's ass, the other firmly holding Kankuro's outstretched arm at the elbow, pulling him back so Kankuro's lifted up from the bed a little, still looking directly at Kiba with his mouth forming a perfect little 'o', lidded gaze and furrowed brows.
Kiba finds a rhythm, fucking into Kankuro almost wildly, the sound of his balls slapping against Kankuro's skin and their shared grunts filling the space of Kiba's room. Kiba barely spares a questioning thought for the soundproofing of the room before his attention is once again taken up by the incredible tight heat enveloping his dick.
If he lets himself, he could cum in three seconds flat, but Kankuro still seems to be holding onto his faculties and Kiba won't have that. Letting go of Kankuro's ass, Kiba changes his position a bit so that he's propped up on his foot, the other bent at the knee on the bed. He reaches out and grabs onto Kankuro's short, dark locks, pulling at them so that Kankuro throws his head back and bares his throat. At this, Kankuro makes a choking sound, and Kiba, inspired by it, moves his hand down so that it can wrap around Kankuro's throat. He doesn't squeeze, not exactly; but their angle is enough to subtly put pressure on Kankuro's windpipe.
Kankuro moans again, and Kiba can actually feel the drops of precum gushing from Kankuro's dick where they land on his leg as it bounces in time with Kiba's thrusts.
“God, you're taking it so well,” Kiba groans. “Do you wanna cum, huh? Are you gonna lose your mind on my dick, baby?”
Kankuro has started frantically gripping anything within reach with his free hand; the sheets, Kiba's pillow, Kiba's leg as much as he can reach it. He almost goes to grab at his dick but Kiba notices and slaps Kankuro's ass for his efforts. Now Kiba lets go of Kankuro's throat and arm in favor of holding onto his hips, bruisingly hard.
“I'm not letting you cum 'til you beg for it, and I want you to look me in the eye when you do so,” Kiba growls, the animal in him just underneath his skin now that he's so close to cumming.
The backs of Kankuro's thighs shake; he's been moaning continuously since Kiba slapped him, and he doesn't seem to register Kiba's words fully. Kiba leans in to growl in Kankuro's ear again.
“Beg for it, Kan–ku–ro,” he says, punctuating each syllable with a thrust.
“Fuck–me–please,” Kankuro gets out, each word a breath. “Make me–cum– Kiba,” Kankuro keens. Kiba's name on Kankuro's lips is like the sweetest song.
“How?” Kiba knows he's being a bit cruel, but he can't help it.
“Your dick,” Kankuro almost-yells, desperate now. “Please, I want to cum on your dick, I need it so bad, fuck, please!” Kankuro's half-sobbing at this point, having strung together the longest sentence of the night, and Kiba decides to reward him for his efforts.
Kiba pulls out, and Kankuro gasps, but he doesn't go far. Instead, he just flips Kankuro over until the other man is lying on his back, and Kiba pushes at his legs until they're in the air. He rips Kankuro’s boots off somehow and then his pants in quick succession, pushing Kankuro’s legs apart and exposing his weeping cock. Then Kiba grabs onto Kankuro's thighs and pushes easily back in, and this position is so much more rewarding, because he can see the entirety of Kankuro's face, playing out a movie's worth of emotions, his half-lidded gaze glued onto Kiba’s own. He seems entranced, hanging onto Kiba like a lifeline. It’s a heady feeling, to be the one responsible for such a reaction.
Kankuro grabs onto Kiba, one hand on his bicep, the other wrapping around Kiba’s neck, and finds it in himself to surprise Kiba yet again— pulling Kiba towards him in a searing, open-mouthed kiss. It’s kind of disgusting, since Kiba has been drooling like a rabid dog the entire time, his saliva thin and watery from how turned on he is. But the way Kankuro thrusts his tongue inside Kiba’s mouth like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality is insanely hot, so the slobbering barely registers.
Kiba moans into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Kankuro’s torso, crushing their chests together until they’re wrapped around each other, Kankuro’s dick trapped between them and rubbing against their stomachs. Kankuro throws his head back, baring his neck, and Kiba immediately latches on. His thrusts, now erratic, betray how close he is, and by the way Kankuro has gone incoherent once again, he’s not far behind.
One of Kiba’s hands lets go and snakes between them, grabbing onto Kankuro’s dick. He tugs at it haphazardly, quickly. He pulls back to look when Kankuro tightens around him, his orgasm imminent.
“Come on,” Kiba pants, fisting Kankuro relentlessly, faster than his own thrusts now. “Cum for me, babe,” he urges.
Kankuro’s brow furrows, and he draws his legs further apart, pushing down onto Kiba and tightening impossibly as his orgasm finally washes over him. He keeps his gaze on Kiba, just like Kiba ordered him earlier; there’s something like desperation in it, almost unhinged as he claws his way through an earth-shattering feeling.
“Kiba,” Kankuro keens, as his cum shoots out in thick spurts between the two of them, and that look, that fucking look, sends Kiba over the edge.
He lets out a wild sound, almost a howl, and he holds on tight onto Kankuro as he empties his load inside, thankful for the presence of mind Kankuro had to bring a condom. They both ride out their orgasms, shuddering almost in time with each other.
Kiba slumps, spent from the activity, his extremities buzzing, heat traveling from his head to the tips of his toes. He nuzzles into Kankuro’s neck, and it’s a while before he remembers he has a solid body—not an amalgamation of sensations—only when Kankuro groans, a bit impatiently, at Kiba’s softening dick still inside of him.
Kiba pulls out, careful to hold the condom so it doesn’t spill over, before tying it into a knot and tossing it towards the trash-can. He misses.
“Oh man,” he groans, leaning back in and deciding he’ll deal with it later. He hears the rumble of Kankuro’s chest as the man chuckles, and when he looks up he’s met with Kankuro’s flushed face, his mouth set into a soft, amused smile. It’s…different. Kind of nice, honestly. Kiba is seized by the sudden impulse to take Kankuro out on a date, after they just had some pretty rough sex. Usually it’s the other way around…
“So…” he drawls, and Kankuro rolls his eyes, letting his head thump back on the pillow.
“Nope,” Kankuro says, covering his eyes with one of his arms. “We’re not gonna talk about it.”
Kiba grins, trying to remove that barrier. “What the hell, man? We so are . I’m serious. You couldn’t have approached me like a normal person?”
“Nope. No way. I’m not a normal person, and neither are you.”
“So what, the tough act at the beginning was just for show? Or,” Kiba starts laughing, fondness washing over him, “were you being shy?” He cackles, flopping down onto the bed next to Kankuro but keeping an arm wrapped around his middle. He pulls Kankuro closer, until he can wrap his leg around him too.
Kankuro squirms as if to get away, but settles down quickly after. He turns a bit so that he can drape his own arm against Kiba. Kiba goes to grab Kankuro’s chin and give him a quick kiss—but it quickly turns deeper. It’s not as frantic as the one before, but still just as intense. They move slower now, Kiba taking the time to notice just how soft Kankuro’s lips are, his hand on Kankuro’s angular jaw, and Kankuro moves his own hand to grab at Kiba’s hair.
They pull back, and Kiba almost dives back in for more, but Kankuro shifts.
“I mean, you’re right,” he says, looking at a spot on the wall. “I didn’t even know what I wanted, exactly.”
“Since when?” Kiba asks, curious despite himself.
“Not that long. Since the last time I came to Konoha.”
“Not that long?! Kankuro, that was a year ago!”
“Ugh. Whatever.”
“Hey, hey, tell me! Did you see me walking around shirtless, is that it? Were you charmed by my extremely attractive muscles?” Kiba cackles.
“Pretty much. It sure wasn’t your dashing personality,” Kankuro grins.
“Well… do you wanna… maybe, uhm,” Kiba flounders.
Kankuro goes red, but to his credit, doesn’t look away. “Yeah. Maybe. We’ll see.”
That’s when Akamaru starts barking wildly at the door. Kiba groans, goes to open it, and is met with Akamaru’s angry stare. He doesn’t seem surprised to see Kankuro in Kiba’s bed, just mad that he got locked out for so long. Kiba grins sheepishly and gives him a pat on the head, rummaging through his bag for a treat. Once that’s done, he leans down to throw the condom into the trash and notices Kankuro staring at his ass with a hungry expression on his face.
“Oh no,” Kiba grins, coming back to the bed. “Maybe after we go on an actual date, huh?”
Kankuro grumbles.
“What was that? Didn’t hear you.”
“Alright,” Kankuro huffs. “But don’t go sweet on me now.”
“Too bad!” Kiba says as he settles in, Akamaru jumping onto the foot of the bed, effectively trapping Kankuro. “You’re stuck with me now.”
Kankuro rolls his eyes, but he stays the night—and keeps his arms tightly wrapped around Kiba the entire time.