This will be the last chapter!
Thank you for all of the support and the reviews. I really enjoyed writing this story.

As a side note: I don't own Naruto or any of the characters or anything remotely associated with them. Thanks.

Enjoy!

Chapter Eight

It's nice and cool in the living room, as opposed to the scorching summer heat outside. This is only the first room that I've seen of Iruka's home, yet it undoubtedly reflects his personality. The room is conventional and tidy, but incredibly inviting. I lie on his soft cream-colored suede couch and take a deep breath. The fabric of the couch smells of vanilla and roses. There are pictures of Iruka and what I presume to be his family on the mantle of the fireplace. What looks like a new white candle burns on the oak coffee table, which stands between the couch that I'm laying on and the fireplace. The carpet is white and noticeably stainless. The walls are cream-colored and trimmed with some sort of dark wood. White lace curtains dance gently in a warm breeze which finds its way inside through a small open window. Everything about the room makes me think of purity, which in turn makes me think of Iruka, who is like a sweet angel sent from heaven.

I turn my head in against the soft swell of the back of the couch, breathing deeply of that wonderful vanilla-rose scent, when Iruka walks into the room. He sits down on the edge of the couch, seating himself cautiously as not to bump his hip into my leg. Perhaps he's being careful of my condition, but I don't think that's it. He's avoiding too much physical contact. I assume that he's trying not to appear flirtatious, but I could be wrong.

A tube of –something is in his hand, but he sets it down on the coffee table. It must be muscle relaxant or something like that.

"Can you turn onto your stomach?" Iruka asks in the most professional manner I've ever heard him speak. Wow – He's really trying not to lead me on.

"Sure thing." I reply, avoiding any perverted remark I could have made in a show of grand maturity that I've never displayed before. I should get a medal for this or something.

I turn over onto my stomach and can't help but notice that Iruka's hell-cat is sitting by Iruka's feet, hunched in on itself, white fur standing on end, and its face drawn in one of those mean grumpy-old-grandpa expressions. I really don't like that cat.

As I turn, the muscles in my back pull tightly, as though they're no longer made of tendons but of concrete reinforced with steel. Luckily though, there's no real pain and I don't lose my vision. That's always a good sign. Once I'm settled on my stomach with my head nestled into the velvety throw pillow Iruka had given me earlier, I feel his fingers tentatively grasp the hem of my shirt and slowly pull it up. Once again, I notice that he's avoiding skin contact. He pulls my shirt up to my shoulder blades and settles it there. I can't help but to notice again that he pauses for a considerable amount of time before finally sliding his cool, smooth fingertips along the flesh of my back. First, his feather-soft touch traces up my spine slowly; sending shivers down that certain part of my anatomy and quivers up another part of it. I'll let you take a guess as to what that other part of my anatomy is.

"Does this hurt?" he asks, sliding his fingers along my flesh further, up to my shoulder blades and then tracing back down to the waistband of my jeans, where his touch lingers.

"No. It feels good." I reply truthfully, my voice slow and soft. I'm hoping that it'll keep Iruka from stopping. Iruka pauses, his fingers still lingering against the small of my back, brushing against my flesh as though he wasn't doing it intentionally.

Next thing I know, Iruka's rose-petal lips are pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades. I can't help but gasp at this unexpected action. He slides his hands against the sides of my back, using his palms as well as his fingers now, and the trail of their touch leaves fire burning in my lower abdomen. His lips press down my spine, each kiss more insistent and desperate than the last. It's enough to drive me crazy. Apparently I haven't been the only one thinking about this.

A hot, wet swipe of Iruka's tongue graces the small of my back and I lose it. I turn onto my back and grasp Iruka by his upper arms, only to pull him up on top of me and kiss him heatedly on the lips. I'm met with no resistance. In fact, if anything, Iruka presses into me hard enough to force my mouth wide open. His tongue delves into my mouth in what can only be described as a mixture of want and hot-iron need. My hormones spike and I suddenly feel like a lust-driven seventeen year old again. My mind turns to mush and all I can think about is having Iruka in every single way possible. I hardly register the jealous growl from Iruka's hell-cat at the foot of the couch. In fact, I forget all about the stupid cat.

In a rush of desire, as Iruka's tongue fills my entire mouth as though he plans to eat me from the lips down, I push forward, wanting the man underneath me at all costs. At the angle we were in, I wind up pushing Iruka up onto the surface of the coffee table, only about a foot away from the burning white candle. Neither of us cares very much. The temperature of my body only rises as his hot breath huffs against my lips, and his fingers intertwine themselves with my hair. My body presses against Iruka's heavily, because that's what he wants. His hands are pushing at the back of my head, forcing me into a deep, almost violently passionate kiss. He bucks his hips up a bit in order to wrap his legs around my own hips and our groins rub together. It's now painfully obvious that we're both incredibly hungry for each other. At this point, I'm completely lost in Iruka. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of his body underneath mine, writhing with desire and arching lightly in response to the slow thrusting sway of my own body on top of his. I now know what Heaven must feel like.

That's when I hear the undeniably furious shriek and then hiss of a certain malicious hell-cat. I'm ready and willing to ignore this, since Iruka doesn't seem to be paying it any mind, but what follows is the sound of something solid and non-organic thudding against the floor. I can't ignore this, because I have a good idea of what it might be. I pull away from our kiss, which Iruka desperately tries to pull me back into, and I'm compelled to let him. Instead, I notice that the candle which had once been sitting on the coffee table was now on the floor – burning the carpet.

"Shit!" I utter in slight panic, before swiftly tumbling over the coffee table and picking the candle up from the floor. I stand up to awkwardly stomp out the small fire that had begun on the carpet. I do this awkwardly because the front of my pants are pitched as high as a circus tent. When the fire is safely out, I look up only to see Iruka still lying against the coffee table. He's on his stomach now and watching with a look of slight panic. Of course, the fire's out now, so when his eyes meet mine, he's already starting to smile and – is that a chuckle?

"Oh? So you think this is funny? Your house could have burned down!" I say in exasperation. How is this in any way a matter of hilarity?

"Oh hush! It was only a small fire, and you got it in time after all. Admittedly, I will have to replace the carpet – But watching you stomp around with 'that' in your pants was worth it." Iruka says, motioning with a wave of his hand to the front of my pants, which aren't quite as tight on me anymore, but still a little snug.

I try not to smile, because I don't find this funny in the least, but I wind up smiling despite myself. I've never seen this side of Iruka before. He's pretty cute when he's giggling away with his cheeks still flushed from arousal. I huff and set the candle back down on the coffee table, though I've made sure that this time it's not lit.

"Oh yeah? See if I ever save you from a fire again." I say teasingly, though I can't help the smile that remains on my lips.

I can see that Iruka knows I'm teasing, and a devilish little light brightens his expression. He gets to his feet, at which point I notice that the hell-cat seems to be nowhere in sight. Sure, the sneaky little culprit flees the crime scene. I tell you, it's not of this world. Iruka beckons to me with a curl of his dainty index finger.

"Come on." He says, that teasingly tempting smile still playing on his lips.

"Come on – Where?" I ask uncertainly, though I have a good idea where and I start to follow Iruka in anticipation.

"My bedroom. After all, I have to repay you for saving my life." He says as he looks back at me over his shoulder and winks. Lord have mercy on my soul, he's a demon as well as an angel. I've officially hit the jackpot. If I wasn't completely set in reality and sure of my place in time and space, I would have believed anyone if they tried to assure me that I was still laying on that little cardboard cot, under a tapering and flimsy tent. That I'm just delusional from fever, due to a severe injury afflicting my right eye. That I'm fantasizing of a medic that I've only met once. I'm conjuring up the most desirable image I can while fever ravages my mind and takes its toll on my body.

Of course, I'm completely set in reality. The only fever that I feel is the one I have for Iruka.

So, that's it for the story. If anyone has any suggestions as to another fandom they would like me to attempt, I would be delighted to take on the challenge.

Until then, Ciao