The first time they fuck, they're both drunk. Anko has vague memories of a dare, a strong memory of Iruka blushing, and a vivid memory of the way he'd moaned when he went down on her, like he was the one on the receiving end of all the attention. It...sticks with her, makes her notice Iruka. Before, he'd just been one of the chuunin instructors at the Academy and familiar face at the mission desk, kind of cute, especially when he lost his temper (it's the way his cheeks get so red; she apparently has a weakness for it), but not particularly memorable. Just a comforting background presence.
Or an annoying background presence. "This isn't filled out correctly." He thrusts her mission report back at her.
It had been a grueling mission. She's exhausted and in no mood for strict protocol. It's an acceptable mission report. She knows because Ebisu is a stickler for detail, and he's accepted similar reports from her. So she didn't initial sections D, F, and N. She's signed the damn thing. That's what matters.
"I'm not one of your Academy brats, Iruka-kun. Just take the form."
Iruka's cheeks turn faintly pink, but his reply is smooth, "As soon as you initial sections D, F, and N and completely fill out section S. I know for a fact you were not the only squad member to suffer minor injuries."
"Nara's scratch doesn't count as an injury!"
Iruka's blush deepens, but he keeps his temper. "He reported to the hospital under your orders. Something about your target favoring poisoned needles?"
She narrows her eyes. Iruka's are molten, and his jaw is clenched like she's really trying his patience, and it's tempting to needle him into a full-on tantrum. But she doesn't have the energy. And she remembers that fuck, and -- maybe it's because this is her sixth grueling mission in a row or the way she feels stretched so thin since...since the chuunin exam -- she'd like to have a go at him when they're both sober, see if it leaves her with a complete set of vivid memories.
"Fine." She snatches the report back from him. "But only because I want you to take this thing off my hands so I can go home and sleep."
"Of course, Anko-chan."
"You're pushing it."
He smirks. "You want to go home and sleep. What are you going to do?"
"Wait until tomorrow to take my revenge."
"I'll be sure to take extra precautions." His voice is still smooth, but the heat in his eyes, and the flush across his cheeks, deepens.
Extra precautions, in Iruka's lexicon, seems to be to layer a series of explosive tags outside Anko's door. She's still groggy the next morning when she leaves to go grocery shopping and steps on the first. It's a weak tag, designed for flash, not damage, but it still stings her toes, and she spends an undignified moment cursing and hopping around, which triggers the second tag. She avoids the third and finds Iruka's note taped on the wall across from her apartment's door.
You still skipped initialing section N. I only accepted it so you could go home and get some sleep, Anko-chan. Are you awake now?
Oh yes. She grins and shoves the note in her pocket. She's very awake. Grocery shopping can wait. She has a new mission: Operation Payback.
Operation Payback requires learning where Iruka lives. She runs through the list of people who can tell her, decides Ibiki is her best bet. He won't blab to Iruka, and while he may give her grief, he'll still help her out.
All Ibiki does is raise an eyebrow. "Umino Iruka? Seven thirty West Star Avenue. He's fond of an explosive tag and sulfur bomb combination if you're thinking of sneaking in."
"What's got you volunteering extra information?"
"It's not extra information if my goal is to give you the intelligence you need for a successful mission."
She eyes him.
Ibiki smirks. "Have fun, Anko-chan."
Great. So Iruka had gotten her address from Ibiki. Well, at least Ibiki isn't taking sides. And he's right about Iruka's defenses. Anko finds three explosive tag and sulfur bomb combos.
Iruka is still at the Academy, and apparently he's expecting her infiltration, because he'd dismantled a healthy chunk of his defenses. Anko finds the tags stacked neatly on his kitchen counter. Anko sets his note next to them, scrawls a quick message at the bottom: Taking flirtation tips from your students, sensei? If you were home, I'd have pulled your pigtail.
Then she resets his dismantled traps.
They spend the next three days infiltrating each other's apartments and trading the note back and forth. It's not a pigtail. And did you have to set one of my traps in my refrigerator? And: Yes. I notice you didn't answer my question. And: It wasn't worth dignifying with a response. But if you must know, I asked a mutual acquaintance for advice. And: Our mutual acquaintance should mind his own business.
She wakes the third night to the invasive feel of an intruder's chakra. She acts on instinct, throwing her needles before she's awake enough to remember her game with Iruka and recognize the chakra as his.
He yelps. "Our mutual acquaintance warned me it would be a bad idea to sneak in while you're sleeping."
Anko flips on the light. "Sorry about that."
Iruka looks sheepish. "I suppose I should have waited for an invitation. Or listened to our mutual acquaintance instead of passing on your message to to mind his own business." He pulls three of her needles from the front of his shoulder, grimacing a bit.
She's out of her bed and crossing the room to him before she can think about what she's doing. He's here in person, and that's his blood on her needles. His eyes widen a bit when she grabs his wrist and raises the hand holding her needles high enough for her to dip her head and lick them clean, but he doesn't pull away.
He pushes on, actually. "Does that mean you'll kiss my boo-boos?"
She grins and reaches out to unzip his flack vest. "Sure," she pushes it down his shoulders, and he hitches them so his vest slides off easily. There hadn't been much blood on her needles. She wants a better taste. "I'll kiss them all better."
He grins. He's still holding her needles, and she feels him slide that hand between them, the needles turned in against his thigh. "All of them?"
She grabs his wrist again. "Only the ones I inflict." Her smile feels jagged, but it doesn't seem to disturb him.
"Hmmm." He twists his wrist. It's a slick move, one that has him pressing her needles back into her hand. Then he twists out of her grip and steps back to remove his shirt.
His vest had slowed her needles, but they'd wormed in deep enough that fresh blood welled with the flex of his muscle. Anko presses close, laps at the beading blood. It's coppery and bright on her tongue. He moans when she probes at the wounds.
She steps back, trails one of the needles across his chest, over one of his nipples, puckered tight. It raises a thin red welt. He shudders under her when she dips her head to lick at it, gasps when she nips at his nipple and settles his hands on her hips, fingers digging tight.
"Anko," he breathes.
"I could make a mess of you," she says against his chest, scraping the nails of her empty hand over his abdomen. "What do you say, sensei? Up for a little bloodplay?"
"You did offer to kiss all the wounds you inflict better."
She draws back. His entire body is flushed, especially his cheeks, so the scar over the bridge of his nose is even more prominent. His eyes are dark, his breath shallow, and there's the faint imprint of his teeth around his nipple.
"Just remember to fill out section S of your mission report. And initial sections D, F, and N."
He snorts. "My mission reports are always perfect." He reaches for his pants and strips completely naked for her. He's...a very handsome man. Lithe and well proportioned, and she can see the cuts she wants to make superimposed over him, criss-crosses over his abdomen, graceful curves over his thighs, leading towards his cock.
"I bet." She taps her needles against her thigh. "You up for it?"
"I'm standing here naked. What more of an invitation do you need? For me to pull your pigtails?"
"Maybe. It's kind of cute the way your flirting is so childish."
He snorts. "And yours isn't?"
"Our mutual acquaintance would say like calls to like." She raises her needles, licks them, enjoys the way Iruka's eyes flare.
"Stop teasing." Iruka steps forward, grabs her wrist and kisses the inside of it, teeth scraping over her pulse point. "Make a mess of me. And then let me make one of you. I remember how you taste, Anko."
She licks her lips, takes a steadying breath. Iruka's moan from last time echos in her head. "You sober?"
"Good." That's what she wants. She lunges at him, and he lets her get him up against the wall, lets her make the shallow cuts she wants. He writhes under her, moaning shamelessly, but it's not quite the same as before, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't get him to make that sound again, not even when she's had her fill of his blood -- still coppery and bright on her tongue, sharp enough that she can taste his chakra, too -- and swallows his hard cock clear down to the base.
"Anko." He curls his hand around the back of her head.
She's got her hands on his hips, thumbs the line of his hipbones. He moans, lower than the others, but still not that one, the one she wants.
"Anko." He thrusts deeper, and his fingers tighten in her hair. "Please. I'm --" He comes, and Anko makes a frustrated sound low in her throat. She hasn't gotten that moan, and now he's done.
She leans back, one palm flat on the floor, and wipes her mouth with her other. Her jaw aches from being stretched so wide, and her lips feel tight. His come tastes similar to his blood, salty instead of coppery, but still bright with the sharp bite of his chakra.
His hand is on her temple now, palm warm, his fingers loose in her hair. He looks down at her through half-lidded eyes, his cheeks a deep red now. She has made a mess of him. His chest and thighs are slick with sweat and blood. It's her best work, and it wasn't enough. She glares at him.
"My turn." He kneels and forces her down onto her back. She's wet for him, flushed from her efforts, and his palms are still hot on her thighs as he forces them apart and leans in, taking a moment to inhale her scent. "Gods, Anko. I remember this." He loops his fingers under her panties and pulls them down.
She hitches her hips. Iruka leans in. His breath is warm on her thighs, cool on her cunt, and then he falls upon her, his tongue hot and demanding and so right. She moans, and Iruka moans, that moan, the one she tried so hard to wrestle from him. This is what it takes?
Fine. She tilts her head back and lets go for him.