To Catch a Ghost

Chapter 1


“Knocking the door too much trouble for you?”

Kakashi ignored the question, letting his normal eye scan the room from where he perched on the windowsill. The place was hardly comfortable, almost inhabitable for his standard. But apparently, the Copy-Nin concluded, this was enough for Nara Shikamaru.

“You actually live in this dump?” he asked absentmindedly, focusing on the man leaning against the wall to catch the slightest change of expression.

There wasn’t any.

“It’s enough,” Shikamaru answered easily, as if taking the words right out of Kakashi’s mind.

Studying the room again, Kakashi frowned at the lack of furniture. There were books cluttering one corner, a small refrigerator, cupboard, microwave and water heater on another corner, a shougi set, and nothing else. He could see a standard Konoha flak vest hanging by the door and a pair of standard shinobi sandals on the floor right under it. Talk about minimalist.

He took his sandals off and held them in one hand as he jumped in, asking, “You at least have a futon, right?”

Shikamaru let Kakashi walked right past him towards the door, not minding the way the older man made himself at home by putting his sandals on the floor right next to his and taking off his vest before hanging them on the door beside its lone companion without asking for permission. The Nara went to his closet, took out his rolled futon and went to an empty corner to spread it.

“You should really get another place,” Kakashi said as he approached. “One where you don’t have to share the bathroom with the whole floor.”

Not reacting to the way Kakashi suddenly appeared inside his personal space and proceeded to lay on his futon, Shikamaru shrugged. “Cleaning your own bathroom is troublesome.”

“Lazy ass.”

“This won’t fit both of us,” the Nara referred to the futon, ignoring the jibe. “I don’t usually have sleepovers.”

Kakashi pulled Shikamaru on top of him. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

Now face to face and chest to chest, Shikamaru studied the man beneath him. He noticed that the infamous mask was no longer present, as well as the hitai-ate that was supposed to cover that blood-red eye, and he vaguely wondered when those items had come off before finally letting his ever-present pout slip into an amused smirk.

“So you’re telling me,” he chuckled, “that you took all that trouble of following me home and climbing to my window… for a fuck?”

“Yeah, well,” Kakashi smiled wickedly, “After what happened in that client’s onsen a while back, I figured you owe me one.”

Shikamaru sat up and pulled off his black turtle-neck shirt. “I never pegged you as the stingy type.”

“I’m not,” the Hatake responded, reaching up and pulling off the other man’s hair tie. “I’m the choosy type.”

“Should I be flattered?” Shikamaru chuckled again, hands slipping slowly under Kakashi’s blue, standard shinobi shirt in a silent request.

“Do you need to be, to fuck me well and good before the night’s over?” Kakashi asked back as he took off his shirt obligingly.

One hand supporting himself beside Kakashi’s chest and the other running slowly down a lean, muscled, cloth-covered thigh, Shikamaru positioned himself more firmly between the older man’s legs. Liking the way their groins settled against one another, the Nara answered breathily, “No. I’m not into dirty talk.”

Suddenly assaulted by memories of how their erections met that night in the bath, Kakashi bit back a moan. “I figured as much.”

Shikamaru smirked as he leaned down, hips grinding slowly as he initiated a long, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue roamed the insides of Kakashi’s mouth freely, the older jounin giving no resistance as he got himself reacquainted with the contours and that unique taste he remembered as divine. He kept his movements unrushed, his lower half grounding firmly downward in an unhurried rhythm, creating beautifully stretched frictions between two clothed erections as the man beneath him returned the gesture.

The slow buildup was surprising, but Kakashi had no complaint. That first time, they only had minutes, rushed by their errant hormones and need. Now, they were relaxed, they had all night, and the Hatake couldn’t agree more with the way Shikamaru chose to do this. He let his tongue join in on the fun, making their joined mouths a playground of their wet, tangling appendages. Their relaxed grinding hadn’t stopped and everything felt unbelievably good -- too good. When Shikamaru sucked on his tongue gently, he felt like the fire in his center coiled and blazed, spreading heat throughout his whole being, making him arch his back and moan into the other man’s mouth.

Breaking the kiss but not entirely so, Kakashi bit Shikamaru’s low lip slightly before nibbling on it. His hands roamed the lithe body on top of him, relearning every curve of lean muscles hidden beneath golden skin. His lips started to move down to that long, slender yet sturdy neck, licking and sucking as leisurely as the rhythm of their grinding. He remembered then how much he liked the taste of Shikamaru’s skin and sweat, the feel of Shikamaru’s pulse on his lips. When the younger man slowly straightened up, Kakashi followed, pushing himself up and latching their lips together again.

To his surprise, Shikamaru grabbed him firmly, a shocking contrast to their previous touches, and he could feel himself being pulled upward as the younger jounin sat straight on folded legs. Kakashi didn’t break the kiss as he made himself comfortable on Shikamaru’s lap, legs spread and arms around the other man. When their lips parted, their movements stopped entirely and they locked eyes, and Kakashi knew Shikamaru was waiting for him to make the next move.

Playing bottom without submitting, playing top without dominating. Kakashi was once again reminded of their first time, the way they seemed to be dancing together without either of them leading, and he remembered why this particular young man had left an overwhelming impression on him; why he couldn’t help but study and sought after the man called Nara Shikamaru these past few days.

Without a word, Kakashi held on tighter to Shikamaru and started to rock his hips again, the rhythm still slow and deliberate. The younger man sighed quietly in appreciation and started to move in synch, grinding his hips upward as he began kissing and biting the pale neck presented to him in gentle, precise manner. Kakashi felt one of the hands on his back moved lower, into his pants and kneading his ass lightly. He pulled himself closer to Shikamaru, wanting to feel their upper bodies grazing as they rocked together. The bites then became a bit more vicious, and Kakashi almost involuntarily moved a hand to the back of Shikamaru’s head, burying his fingers in thick locks of dark hair and pressing that head firmer against his skin, silently demanding for more. And the young jounin obliged him, thankfully, suckling harder on his throat without caring about leaving marks.

After another few moments of grinding in that position, without any cue or signal, Kakashi let go of his partner the same time Shikamaru pushed down the waistband of his pants. He laid back down once those hands reached his thighs, pulling down his pants and boxer with them, and then he took over so the other man could take off his own pants, looming over him.

Both now naked, slightly sweating and breathing heavily, Kakashi lying on his back and Shikamaru kneeling between the older man’s legs, each shinobi took a couple of seconds to study the other. They had seen each other in this state before, although only once and in the middle of adrenaline rush, but still, the way one made the other transfixed was uncanny. Shikamaru once again felt the odd sensation of his brain shutting down, cell by cell, as it processed the view -- that pale skin, the sheen of sweat gleaming with each ripple of lean, perfectly toned muscles; that amazingly handsome face, accented by a single, prominent scar and mismatched eyes. Kakashi was also riveted for the second time, and he wondered if he would ever get used to seeing this bizarre transformation from lazy bum to beautiful, sexy, golden-skinned walking wet dream.

A tube of lube appeared, seemingly conjured out of thin air, in Shikamaru’s right hand, and Kakashi spread his legs wider. One finger… two fingers… damn it, but the Nara was way too skillful for his age. Kakashi was panting already, his prostate teased and his anus stretched in the most pleasing method. Three fingers… and the Copy-Nin grabbed the ignored tube near his head before proceeding to lube his hand and coat Shikamaru’s cock with the slippery substance rather generously, playing with the impressive member. The hiss and tremble from the man between his legs made him smirk, but they also made him more aroused if that was even possible. So he grabbed and pulled Shikamaru down with both hands, his touch no longer soft but demanding, and he thought he heard a light chuckle but he didn’t care because they were kissing again in that deliberate, lingering play of lips, tongues and teeth.

Kakashi felt a bit of lost when Shikamaru pulled himself up a little, tearing their naked chests apart and supporting his bodyweight with his right hand. But he decided that it was okay because then he felt Shikamaru’s left hand snake between them and traveled down his torso to their connected groin. Both their erections were squeezed, making him moan into the kiss, before that hand went lower, taking the other man’s dick with it. The nudge to his entrance was very much welcomed, and Kakashi bit Shikamaru’s tongue lightly to show his appreciation. And as the head forced its way in, guided by that deft hand, both men groaned into each other’s mouth although the sound coming from Shikamaru’s throat was so faint, Kakashi thought he might be imagining it.

Eyes closed, mouth busy and being entered slowly, millimeter by millimeter, Kakashi was vaguely aware of Shikamaru’s left hand caressing his right thigh. Down, down and down, as slow as the penetration, until it reached his knee and slipped under it. The Hatake felt that hand pushed upward slightly, and he helped the effort by lifting his leg as requested. But then, Shikamaru pushed forward in one fluid motion, sliding the back of Kakashi’s knee along his forearm to his elbow and sheathing himself to the hilt inside that tight channel, striking the older man’s prostate head on.

A cry reverberated from Kakashi’s throat as he bit Shikamaru’s lower lip in surprise, hard enough to draw blood. He felt like something exploded inside his head. Then the coppery taste of blood, mingling with all those other tastes that were already intoxicating him -- a unique blend of sake and Shikamaru, assaulted him like a wave. He barely realized that the man on top of him had ceased all movement, trembling in his effort to regain control just like he was. But Kakashi did notice the voice, the moan that was so small it sounded so far away as it echoed with his own muted cry not a second ago, and he wanted desperately to hear it again.

Kakashi sucked on the wounded lip, enjoying the taste and gripping the younger man’s shoulders with enough force to bruise, and Shikamaru shuddered with pleasure, that low, quiet moan escaping right into Kakashi’s mouth. The Nara pulled his face apart from the man beneath him and remained still for a moment, bent over, head bowed and a curtain of dark hair covering his face. Kakashi knew that it had been a close call. Both of them had nearly lost it. So they waited, panting heavily as they gathered their shattered controls, until finally Shikamaru looked up and smiled.

“You feel too damn good,” he said, still slightly out of breath.

“Sorry,” Kakashi deadpanned, smirking.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. You almost made me come right then and there.”


“No, you’re not.”

“No,” Shikamaru grunted as he pulled himself out slowly, making Kakashi hiss and shut his eyes. Then he slammed back in. “I’m not.”

“Aah…!” Kakashi’s eyes snapped open. Catching the glint in Shikamaru’s eyes, he smirked again. “Smartass.”

Both man chuckled before Shikamaru pulled back again and this time slid in more slowly. Kakashi sighed at the feeling of being filled, of his pleasure center being grazed, and he moved his hips to get more. The younger jounin set that motion as their pace and they moved together, the rhythm moderate; not too fast and not too slow, not too hard and not too soft.

This kind of unhurried fucking wasn’t usually his style, but with Shikamaru as his partner, Kakashi had to admit that it could be one of his favorites soon. It was just sublime; the way that length raked his pleasure center at every thrust, the way that girth stimulated his nerves and muscles from the inside, the way those rippling muscles of that taut abdomen grazed his cock. And even with one leg propped up and bent nearly to his chest, the other wrapped tightly around Shikamaru’s waist, he was still comfortable enough that his moans and sighs, grunts and gasps tumbled out of his lips unbidden.

Just like last time, it wasn’t clear who guided their rocking. They moved in total synchronization, without any demand or pressure. There was no pleading gesture, no questioning look, no word of inquiry or agreement, yet they seemed to know exactly how to move and where to touch.

The silver-haired man wanted to watch that impressive member slide in and out of him, but he didn’t want to let go of Shikamaru’s eyes that was currently locked with his. To be the recipient of that penetrating gaze, desire burning visibly instead of the usual cold calculations or boredom, was just too magnificent. It felt too rare, too precious. And Kakashi suddenly remembered another thing that was rare and precious when it came to sex with Nara Shikamaru.

Letting go of those broad shoulders he had been gripping, Kakashi let his hands wandered down Shikamaru’s torso, touching and caressing. First the sides, then the back, then his right hand sneaked between them and pinched a nipple. Hard.


Fuck, yes!

That little, almost inaudible sound made Kakashi soar, and he groaned loudly just from hearing it. Shikamaru’s face contorted in pained pleasure for a split second, the flame in those dark eyes flared, and Kakashi knew he had to see that again. He had to hear that quiet moan again and, if it was possible, he wanted to hear it continuously, mingling with his own nearly-constant growls.

Kakashi wished he could use his mouth, but their position prohibited it and by God the way that cock pleasured him from the inside while that body rubbed his leaking erection was so freaking good that he didn’t want to ruin it. So he rubbed the nipple with his thumb in circling motions, still with enough pressure to create a startling contrast to their relaxed coupling. But darn it, Shikamaru merely hissed. Kakashi then flicked the abused nub with his index finger, and he was more than elated to find that it had the desired effect. He teased it lightly this time, before suddenly pinching it again and pulling it with his index and middle finger. And oh, yeah… he just loved that nearly-silent moan.

Repeating the process randomly a few times, Kakashi delighted in hearing the sound time and again. And he loved the way Shikamaru didn’t break, the way their rhythm remained constant, the way his partner miraculously kept the heat increasing instead of burning. He switched to the other nipple, right hand going up to settle on the back of Shikamaru’s head and the left one going for his new target. Giving it the same ministrations he had given its counterpart previously and getting the same result, Kakashi thanked the heavens for the fact that he was a ninja and therefore was trained to be ambidextrous.

Of course, Kakashi couldn’t keep up with his efforts for too long. It only took a while before the pleasure became too much to process while concentrating on other things. Everything -- the sensations of penetration, the sights, the sounds -- turned into a warm haze. He could no longer differentiate what he was feeling much less classify them. There was only pleasure. He was in a state of utter bliss.

That exact moment, Shikamaru straightened up and grabbed Kakashi’s leaking erection with his right hand. His victim bucked violently, crying out in gratification before their gazes met again, this time with intensity so great they seemed to burn each other, and Shikamaru started to pound the older man in earnest, putting everything he had into each thrust while stroking the cock in his hand with the same rhythm.

Kakashi was lost. Everything was too amazing, too perfect. The constant, harsh stimulation to his prostate, the friction and pressure on his manhood, everything was just as he liked it. Sweating, panting, overwhelmed by lust, crying out shamelessly at each impalement, Kakashi knew he was close to release but he didn’t care. He couldn’t take his eyes off Shikamaru -- dark hair framing his features, dancing in coordination with his movements; brown eyes darkened by lust, almost pitch black; lips reddened by blood, slightly parted to let out those quiet, sensual moans Kakashi could no longer hear; lean muscles rippling beneath gleaming, golden skin -- and he swore to himself to keep his eyes open because if the young man was this beautiful now, he did not want to miss watching Shikamaru in the throes of orgasm.

However, what Kakashi wanted was easier said than done. As his climax approached, his reflexes kept trying to make him throw his head back and close his eyes. He forced his focus on Shikamaru’s eyes, but it felt too fucking good all he could think about was oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh “GOD DAMN IT!”

Everything was white. Kakashi couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t do anything other than feel. He didn’t realize his muscles were all flexing and jerking; throwing his head back, closing his eyes so tight he was seeing stars, arching his back, tightening his grip on the futon, curling his toes, spraying semen out of his cock. His orgasm was so intense, so magnificent that he thought he was dead.

A part of Shikamaru’s brain managed to process the loud curse and made him pray that none of his neighbors recognized Kakashi’s voice before the whole organ fully shut down. That pale brilliance underneath him went from writhing to bucking and clenching, from entrancing him like a beautiful star to burning him like the blazing sun, in less than a second. His short-circuiting senses had no chance to keep up, and his climax ripped through him like thunderstorm.

In the middle of his high, Kakashi felt pain in his right thigh and he realized that it came from Shikamaru’s grip. His eyes snapped open, sharingan swirled, and he watched in slow-motion the most glorious view he had ever seen: Nara Shikamaru throwing his head back, mouth opened wide in a silent scream, eyes shut, hair flowing, slender muscles contracting, skin glistening…

“Holy shit,” Kakashi murmured unconsciously as Shikamaru’s face slowly came back to view. He was still watching in slow-motion when that hand went from his cock to those swollen, slightly parted lips. Those dark eyes, half lidded and dazed, were locked with his as the Nara started licking those graceful fingers, tracing that wounded lower lip to mix cum with blood. Shikamaru’s hips were still jerking slightly, filling him with what was left of his ejaculation, and Kakashi realized that his hips were doing the same thing, making more mess on his stomach and chest.

Both men were caught in that moment for a while, before Shikamaru finally pulled his fingers out of his mouth and commented, “Hmm… tastes like chicken.”

Kakashi couldn’t stop his laughter from bursting out. He was expecting something along the line of ‘You taste good’ or ‘That was amazing,’ but trust Shikamaru to ruin an intense, sexual moment by making a lame joke. Pulling his leg free and putting it down on the futon, suddenly realizing how sore it was, Kakashi smirked. “You like?”

Shikamaru chuckled. “My new favorite.”

“Glad to hear that,” Kakashi sighed as Shikamaru pulled out of him. “I was hoping we could do this again sometime.”

“Which part of ‘this’ are we talking about here?” asked the Nara while lighting up a cigarette that Kakashi swore just appeared out of nowhere. “You stalking me, you breaking and entering my apartment, or me fucking you?”

Rolling his eyes, Kakashi grumbled, “I wasn’t stalking you; I didn’t know where you live. I wasn’t breaking and entering; I just didn’t want to go all the way around to your door when your window was only a couple of jumps away. Besides, this isn’t an apartment, this is a closet.”

“Hey, the smaller the place, the easier it is to take care of.”

“Uh-huh,” Kakashi deadpanned, eyes following Shikamaru who was trying to lay down on the futon next to him. “I guess you’d say ‘less furniture, less dust’, too.”

“Exactly,” Shikamaru grunted as he tried to make himself comfortable on the miniscule space available on the futon. He turned to lie on his back and banged his elbow on the floor, nearly dropping his smoke. “Ow, shit! Told you this won’t fit both of us.”

Kakashi snorted. “You’re a jounin. Buying a bigger futon won’t even put a dent on your saving. Or better yet, buy a frigging bed.”

“You’re a jounin who already has a bed. Which begs the question: Why are you still here?”

“Are you always this kind and caring to your sexual partners?”

“Fine, fine, I get the point,” Shikamaru snickered as he got up and went to the corner with the cupboard, refrigerator and other stuff. He took some Kleenex from the box lying on the top of the fridge went back to give them to Kakashi. “Here. I’ll get you a drink in a minute. What do you want?”

Kakashi took the soft papers with a sour look. “I’ll drink whatever. Tsk, don’t you even have towels?”

Shikamaru was already cleaning himself, also with a tissue, burning cigarette dangling between his lips. “No way am I doing more laundry just because you happened to be horny.”

Cleaning up halfheartedly, Kakashi grumped, “See, this is why I told you to get a place with your own bathroom.”

“You’ll just have to deal.”

“Or, the next time we do this, we do it at my place.”

Walking to the ‘kitchen corner’ again, Shikamaru chuckled. “Will do. Is coffee okay?”

“Yeah, coffee would be great, thanks.”

The two men got quiet for a while. While Shikamaru was busy making coffee in his sorry excuse of a kitchen, Kakashi couldn’t help but watch the younger man, contemplating what just happened.

It had been three days since they got back from that impossible mission. Three days since Tsunade had given them a week off, leaving him with nothing to do but rest, train, hang out with his friends and rest again. Being idle meant having too much time to think, and Kakashi spent all of it thinking about a certain young Nara.

There was no big parade or fireworks, no bright light or blooming flowers. No, he was past all that. There was only a calm realization that he was in love. Kakashi didn’t care that the man he was in love with was fourteen years younger than him, nor did he care about the fact that this man was once Asuma’s student. Still, Kakashi wasn’t stupid. He knew there would be complications. However, said complications didn’t mean jack shit if he didn’t get together with Nara Shikamaru in the first place. And unless he wanted trouble, he better sort this out on his own. So Kakashi did just that, and had found his biggest obstacles.

First of all, he was pretty sure his feelings were one sided. He’d been nineteen. He remembered how scary the word ‘commitment’ was to him at that age. Back then, just like all ninjas, he took anything he could get with the firm believe that he would find that person -- that someone that he would marry, have children with and spend the rest of his life with -- years later. The problem here was while he was already in the ‘years later’ part, Shikamaru was still in the ‘back then’ part. The Nara might be attracted to him -- hell, some people found him attractive before seeing him without his mask -- but there was no way the man felt anything beyond that. Kakashi knew that he had his work cut out for him, but he was ready for it.

Second of all, after spending one day studying his target, Kakashi found that Nara Shikamaru was not as open and easygoing as he had led people to believe. He would be there with other ninjas his age, drinking and joking around, but he kept his presence as forgettable as those clouds he liked so much. Kakashi would say, “Yeah, I just got back from a mission with Nara Shikamaru, turns out he’s really good. Hey, you know him, right?” And the answer would be, “Shikamaru? Sure, I know him. He’s an okay guy,” and not much else. Those people didn’t even know where Shikamaru lived.

There were people who probably knew more. Kurenai was his close friend but also close to Shikamaru. Naruto, Sakura and all those young ninjas that were once known as the Rookie 9, not to mention Gai’s former students, could be considered Shikamaru’s inner circle. But coming to them would be like approaching his target with blaring sirens, and the Nara would run to the farthest corner of the Earth before Kakashi could get within three feet of the man. So, running out of options, last night Kakashi brought the above inquiry to the guys he hung out with.

Iruka’s answer was, “Hm… I think he was that kid who kept falling asleep in class. I’ve had so many students, I can’t really remember.”

Genma’s answer was, “Who?”

Well, hell. A tactical genius with natural leadership, and the man chose to be unnoticeable and unremarkable even among the ordinary. He obscured his presence so thoroughly, even in the midst of the average he was almost invisible. Nara Shikamaru had, quite successfully, made himself a ghost.

So now, how did one go about catching a ghost?

As the smell of coffee permeated the room, Kakashi remembered how he had gotten himself there. He had just had dinner with his friends when, on the way home, he saw Nara Shikamaru coming out of a bar. With everything at stake, he decided to follow the man to at least learn where Shikamaru lived. Watching from a nearby rooftop as the young jounin disappeared inside a dingy apartment building, Kakashi noticed the light being turned on inside one window… and the Nara looking straight at him through said window.

Luckily, Shikamaru didn’t throw a kunai at him or worse, alert the whole building that there was a pervert. No, the young Nara just stood there in his apartment, leaning against the wall, face unreadable. Kakashi decided that since he was already screwed anyway, he might as well go in there and get himself screwed literally before thinking about his next move.

But now, as he watched Shikamaru puttering around making coffee, naked, a cigarette between his lips, Kakashi wondered if tactics and strategy would work against this person. He was a genius himself, but even he couldn’t think of two hundred possibilities and ten steps ahead in one second. And if there was one thing the Hatake had learned, very clearly, it was that Nara Shikamaru always thinks ten steps ahead. Would any maneuver he made be effective at all against such a foe?

Shikamaru came to him with a cup of coffee in each hand, put them on the floor and sat beside him on the futon. And as they both stared at the steaming liquid, the silence comfortable, Kakashi decided that no, applying strategy was not a healthy thing to do when you were up against Nara Shikamaru. If he wanted to catch this ghost, he would have to do it the most straightforward way. No skulking around, no trap, no trick. Just… catch.

“Oi, Shikamaru?”


"Move in with me."


                ~~~~~~~~ Back to Kakashi/Shikamaru ~~~~~~~~ Chapter 2



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