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At The Intersection of Gauche and Obtuse	By : Sushi4Brains Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2102 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters and no profit is made from this work of fan fiction.

Chapter List
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Intersection (scientific): The point or set of points where one line, surface, or solid crosses another.
Better pace myself, he thought.
But not ten minutes in, his limbs were like molten lead and not in a good way. The last chapter of the Icha Icha series ended with the hero fighting for the honor of his one true love. The newest installment began with the hero left for dead in the forest. A kindly hunter scooped him up, delivering the battered man to a small hospital where four nubile nurses took turns attending him.
Yeah… that’s a good place to start.
Pages 38-39 unfold before his mind’s eye where the nurses meet up, each hoping to give the protagonist a hot sponge bath. Their discussion devolves into debate and debate gives way to a foot stomping, hair pulling, uniform ripping scuffle. Check.
Page 41: A few curt words from the rest broken man in the hospital bed ends their fight and the four scantily clad young women line up at his bedside for a lecture. Shamefaced and blushing prettily, their dainty hands failing to conceal their bounteous charms. Check.
Pages 42-43: The most senior of the group, twenty-five years old if she was a day, tall, brunette, with pale violet eyes leans down and whispers:
‘Please sir, the charge nurse is very strict. She’s from the old school… carries around a thin hickory paddle to reward misdeeds on the spot.’
Pushing aside the others, the shorter, more excitable of the quartet added, ‘We beg of you, kind sir … do not report our deviation from protocol. It would be doubly shameful if she punished us in front of you.’
Page 44, beginning with paragraph two -- one of his favorites, wherein a four-part harmony of eager promises falls from their pouting lips -
‘We’ll do whatever you ask of us sir,’ they say.
Through the eyes of the central character, Kakashi watches the curvaceous vixens - who coincidentally, are bisexual nymphomaniacs, lovingly tend the wounds inflicted on their fellow healers. He licks at his lips as their ministrations switch from professional medical attention to hot and heavy caresses and kisses.
Check, check and oh my god … check!
Suddenly, not four but six chakra signatures ping back against his and the pungent smell of disinfectant wafts around him. This irritation he gladly ignored, looking forward to the miscellany of sexual mischief which soon will spread itself before his hungry eyes. At the same time as the half-naked ladies are peeling off the hero’s underpants in the book, Kakashi felt a familiar rush of blood draining from the crown of his head, rising from the soles of his feet and settling in his loins.
Now that's what I call descriptive writing!
The cooled air of the room blows softly over his forehead and chest as he thought to inch one hand toward the waistband of his sleep pants and the other to his mask. However, the moment he attempted either action, his arms were oddly unresponsive, in fact, all his limbs were uncooperative, as if someone had purposely tied --
Don’t remember reading this part before.
No matter, he smirked. Bondage … kinky.
Turns out he was trussed up rather well … too well for his liking; bindings so tight, every breath singed his lungs and every heartbeat sounded like a kettledrum inside his head. He lay motionless until a soft warm hand caressed his wrist.
Curiosity, the undoing of many a great ninja got the better of him. Slowly his eyelid fluttered open.
The first thing he saw was an otherwise unremarkable water stained ceiling above him.
Okay … either my imagination is getting better or I really am in a hospital. Nah … that’s impossible.
Familiar chakra signatures oscillate in friendly intent nearby - bright overhead lights have him squinting as he tries to assign faces to the fuzzily wavering images. Out of nowhere, a mountainous blob of green blocks his view.
Oh, dear god no! It can’t be--
“Kakashi,” shouts the indistinguishable mass. “Kakashi! Can you hear me?”
Damn it Gai!
You had one job. ‘Take me home,’ I said.
How could you do this to me?
As his vision slowly improves, the quartet of lovelies he’d seen minutes before, morphs into a quintet; Neji, Tenten, Rock Lee, Sakura and Naruto – each of them staring back at him with hopeful smiles. As for the comely nurse caressing his wrist, turns out, she was a stern faced, sweaty palmed, male medic checking his pulse and recording his vital signs.
Crap!
“Thank goodness,” bellowed Gai. “You’ve awakened at last!”
Yeah ... whoop de freakin’ do! Wouldn’t be the first time his well-meaning rival brought an Icha Icha interlude to a screeching halt; he’d deal with him later. How to hide or explain away a waking hard on to the observant Sakura or the embarrassed Tenten was the greater question. Mercifully, Gai turned himself about, diverting attention from Kakashi’s rapidly deflating ‘condition’ as he boasted,
“Did I not say my Noble and Most Esteemed Rival would rouse himself at the sound of my voice?”
Kakashi cast a churlish glare at the other man’s back as he stood triumphant, his fists at his hips and flak vest pushed to either side, basking in the imaginary glory of his team.
“Please, my youthful compatriots ... do not gawk at my rival with eyes of pity. His recuperative powers are no match for my own, that is true, but Hatake Kakashi is still worthy of your admiration.”
It was irrational, yes, but once more he cursed that damned photographic memory, his friendship with Gai and ultimately Jiraiya's writings ... though he quickly recanted that last one. As the mountain of green blathered on, he had to laugh, for from the corner of his eye he saw Tenten mouthing the words:
“Sorry, Kakashi sensei . . . you know what he’s like.”
Meanwhile, Neji was inching closer to the exit, as Rock Lee, rooted to his spot, his mouth and eyes wide open, drank in Gai’s every word. When the bombastic beast swiveled about again, his meaty hand landed on the bed’s headboard with enough force to splinter the plastic.
“Be of good cheer Kakashi,” he said, “for I, Konoha’s Green Beast of Prey shall remain at your side, night and day, encouraging you back to health.”
Rolling his eye at such a declaration of unwavering and unwanted companionship required finer motor skills than he possessed; instead from his throat dry and scratchy, issued forth a gravelly grunt.
If he could have, he would’ve cheered as the door to the room slid open and in breezed the Hokage.
“An act of supreme recklessness … that’s what I wrote in your medical chart,” she snapped. “What the hell were you thinking, Kakashi?”
The intention of sitting up, flatly denied by the contrary whims of his body. “Well, ma’am,” he huffed, “you see . . . I was--”
“Yes, yes, protecting your comrades … I heard all about it.” In one swift motion, she leaned down and pulled the covers up to his chin. “Sorry about those ... you were combative when Gai brought you in.” Even as she fussed, a thread of her chakra loosened the restraints about his chest and legs. “Overuse of that new Mangekyo Sharingan weakened your chakra pathways. If Gai hadn’t rushed you here when he did ... well - hold still now.” Her cool palm rested across his forehead as soothing chakra coursed through his body. “He saved your life … again,” she whispered. “Now I have to save what’s left of your sanity.” Turning about she said, “The good news is, he’ll be fine after a week of bed rest. Unfortunately, that means no visitors allowed.”
“Of course, Lady Tsunade ... but your medics, skilled as they are, do not know how to motivate my rival that he might spring from his bed of affliction to--”
“Somehow, I think we’ll manage Gai. Everyone, thank you for your hard work, take a few days rest and--”
“But … Tsunade-sama,” the crestfallen Gai insisted, “My rival needs--”
“What he needs is undisturbed rest. Shizune…explain the meaning of ‘no visitors allowed’ as you escort Gai and everyone else to the exit.”
Turning back to Kakashi, her finger rested atop his parted lips. “Yes, you owe me big time and before you ask ... the answer is no. I won’t discharge you before the week is out, so save your breath.”
All in all, he thought as the door slid closed behind them, this is a sentence I can live with. A week of quiet with nothing to do but sleep and eat, ranked a close second to relaxing with one of Jiraiya's books – all right, maybe a distant second.
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At The Intersection of Gauche and Obtuse