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'Attractive', Sai decides, is a good word to describe Yamato. His proportions are just right, the distances between his features all within the ideal dimensions for the human form; his face is remarkably symmetrical and he would be easy to draw, to paint. Sai has considered doing so many times, speculating which time of day would provide the most complementary lighting, planning the colors he would need to blend for the proper hues of highlight and shadow in Yamato's hair, the warm tones in his skin and the smiling gleam in his dark eyes.
But right now, oddly enough, Sai is not thinking of painting Yamato.
They are using the sauna, just the two of them, after an impromptu training session this afternoon--a 'friendly spar', Sai thinks, trying out the phrase and finding it suitable. Members of Root never engaged in such things--training was training, and always quite serious. But when Yamato had found him practicing his taijutsu at the training grounds and offered him an opponent more challenging than a wooden post, it had been very casual; the spar that followed had been less about defeating his opponent and more about keeping his skills finely honed. Yamato had laughed, teased, commended him on his strengths and offered advice on his weaker points, and Sai had...enjoyed it.
He's fairly certain that's the best word to describe what he felt.
When they had finished, Sai had registered a semi-familiar tug of...something, that prompted him not to part company with Yamato yet. It's something he can't really name, but he's been feeling it for the past several weeks with increasing frequency and strength. He had suggested that they spend a short while in the sauna to help loosen muscles keyed up from their sparring; Yamato had appeared surprised, but agreed readily enough.
The air is thick and warm, heavy with moisture; it's unpleasant on one level but physically invigorating on another, as though aches and fatigue are shed from the body along with sweat.
Yamato is seated at the other end of the bench, leaning slightly against the wall, eyes closed, relaxed but not sleeping.
Sai is studying him, watching him, but this is not unusual. What is unusual is that, as he's noted, he's not thinking of painting Yamato.
There is a droplet of sweat gathered at Yamato's temple; Sai watches with oddly rapt attention as it runs down in front of his ear and slips under the corner of his jaw, tracks an aimless diagonal along his neck and collarbone to pool in the hollow of his throat, spills over and rolls down his chest, becomes lost in the hair scattered there.
Sai follows that path with his eyes, and finds himself considering what it might be like to trace it with his fingertips, instead.
It is an unexpected thought and he examines it closely, seeking a better understanding.
The idea of touching Yamato is...appealing.
He thinks about it intently, trying to imagine the feel of Yamato's skin warm and damp beneath his fingertips, the smooth curves of muscle and tendon in his neck and the texture of that hair on his chest.
Curiously, his heart is beating faster. His breath is also coming slightly shorter.
He is aware that physiological reactions such as this generally indicate either excitement or fear, and decides that the pleasant tension low in his abdomen means it's more likely to be the former.
It would seem he is...excited, by the idea of touching Yamato.
Experimenting, he clears his mind of all thoughts, concentrates on simply breathing in the warm, heavy air, then breathing it out again, deep and measured, over and over until his pulse is steady and even and there is no unusual tension anywhere in his body.
Then, very deliberately, he returns his gaze to Yamato and thinks about touching him again, about tracing light fingertips over his features one by one.
The curve of his ear.
The line of his jaw.
The contours of his shoulders.
The ANBU tattoo on his left arm.
The curling of the hair on the planes of his chest.
The indentation bisecting his abdominal muscles.
The jut of his hip above the sweep of his towel.
The length of his thigh.
Sai lingers over these thoughts, focuses completely on them, and finds that again his heart is beating faster and his breath is coming shorter, and there is warm and heavy tension in his groin and in his belly.
Also, he has an erection.
He blinks.
An erection in and of itself is not unusual; he is a young male, and the human body is programmed with certain functions and reactions. Root has taught him specific chakra-based bloodflow manipulation and suppression techniques to counter the distraction of an unruly body; physical urges have no place in the life of Danzou's operatives.
Former operatives.
Normally, upon realizing that he's erect, Sai would simply employ one of these techniques to suppress it out of habit, to bring his body back under his control again.
But Root and its strictures no longer exist, and these are new and unknown circumstances; he has never before experienced an erection in response to specific thoughts. He decides against countering it, finding merit in further analysis of the situation.
The erection in combination with the increased heart rate and the heightened breathing leads him to suspect that the warmth and tension in his stomach are very likely to be arousal, rather than simple excitement, and he examines the sensation with interest.
He concludes, shortly, that thoughts of touching Yamato have aroused him, that his body is reacting to the idea of such a small intimacy--for yes, that must be what it is, because people in his observation do not casually touch one another the way he is thinking of touching Yamato--with excitement, with approval, with encouragement.
"I believe I am sexually attracted to you, Yamato-taichou," he says then, breaking the silence that has lain comfortably between them. It is a curious thing to realize, but it's the most logical conclusion to draw from his physiological responses.
Yamato jerks, and his eyes snap open. "You...what?"
"I believe I am sexually attracted to you," Sai repeats, and notes to himself that Yamato looks rather like a startled deer. It would be an interesting expression to capture in a portrait--'funny', he thinks is the right way to describe it.
"Okay, I did hear you right." Yamato scrubs a hand over his face, which is somewhat redder than it was a moment ago, and back through his hair. "Um. Alright. What makes you think so?"
"I have been watching the sweat on your body," Sai explains, "and now I have an erection."
"That's...not unusual, I suppose, at your age," Yamato says weakly, not really looking him in the eye. "The heat, and the physical exertion beforehand--it's a natural sort of reaction. It doesn't necessarily mean that you're attracted to me."
"But it has only happened with you."
Yamato looks rather uncomfortable. "Er. Well." He doesn't seem to know what to say, and Sai thinks that perhaps he needs more information to work with.
"I've been in the sauna with Naruto, and Kakashi, and other men I don't know," Sai explains, sorting it out for himself at the same time. "Watching droplets of sweat trace over their bodies did not hold my interest, and it didn't make me have an erection. I analyzed them by artistic standards. I identified the basic colors that would be needed if I was painting them. I considered how to achieve the effect of the steam in the air around them. I did not think about touching them.
"When I think about drawing you, or painting you, it's...different. It's very...detailed. I would need many subtle variations of each shade to reproduce the shadows on your skin or the different tones of your hair. It would take careful work to capture the exact way your mouth curves and to make your eyes look as warm as they do when you smile."
"...Uh." Yamato is making that startled-deer expression again.
"I think that I would like to actually paint you sometime," Sai finishes. "It would be...pleasant." He doesn't think it's quite the right word, but doesn't know what the right word is and has wandered from his point regardless. "But today, I wasn't thinking about painting you. I was watching the sweat tracing over your body, and I thought about touching your skin where it does, with my fingertips. This made my heart rate increase and my breathing grow shorter. Then I realized that I had an erection. I've concluded that I'm sexually attracted to you."
Yamato makes a strangled little noise in his throat and scrubs both hands over his face. He shifts, as though he's uncomfortable, and Sai's gaze is drawn to his lap. It's covered by the towel he wears, but it's plain that his penis is erect underneath it.
"Oh," Sai says, realizing that it makes him feel...something...to discover this. He thinks the word he wants is 'pleased'. "Then...you are sexually attracted to me as well?"
Yamato follows his gaze but quickly jerks his eyes back up to meet Sai's. "Um," he says, and his face grows very red again, much redder than can be explained by the heat of the sauna.
Sai recalls that people often react with embarrassment when genitals and sex become the subject of conversation, and he concludes that Yamato must be embarrassed. Instinct tells him it's more than that, however, and he puzzles it through while Yamato flounders. If Yamato is sexually attracted to him, it might account for certain observations Sai has recently made. For instance, Yamato's demeanor changes slightly when he talks to Sai; he is subtly more alert, and there is a...warmth, in his eyes, his voice, that isn't always there when he's speaking to other members of the team. Sai has also noticed that Yamato often watches him covertly. He expects to be observed by his superiors--it's simply the way of life he's always known--but Yamato's face in those moments frequently reflects emotion that has puzzled Sai, in context. 'Hungry', he thinks, and 'longing' are good words to describe the expression that he's thinking of.
Yamato has never communicated any sexual attraction to him, but he also did not deny it when Sai asked. Sai wonders if perhaps that attraction itself, then, is the source of Yamato's current embarrassment. It makes no sense to him, but it fits with behavioral patterns that he's observed over time.
Sai doesn't understand embarrassment; it's not like camaraderie or friendship or excitement or happiness. It's an emotion that serves no useful purpose so far as he can tell, and he does not think that he is missing anything by not experiencing it.
It leaves him unsure of the best way to alleviate someone else's embarrassment, however, so he tries for a reassuring smile. "It's alright, Yamato-taichou. I'm pleased that you're attracted to me; perhaps we can have sex with each other? I am...curious, about what it's like; it seems to be a very popular activity."
Yamato appears to choke on his own indrawn breath. "Sai," he manages, when the coughing has passed. His eyes are wide, rather panicked-looking.
Sai waits for him to continue, but Yamato only leans forward and ducks his head to scrub his hands through his hair, sits braced like that a moment before looking up again.
He appears very conflicted; it's an emotion that Sai recognizes because he experienced it himself many times when he began operating with Team Kakashi and growing steadily farther away from the Root ideals he was raised on.
Yamato turns his whole body to face Sai, bracing his back against the wall in the corner. "We can't have sex, Sai."
Sai tilts his head. "We can't?"
"No. We can't."
Sai's natural impulse in any circumstance is to abide by what his superior tells him, and it's no different now. Yamato has said 'we can't', and most of Sai is ready to accept that and subside, except that...he's attracted to Yamato; the discovery is bright and intriguing in his mind and he is unwilling to turn away from it. He wants to understand it, to explore it, to act on it. He's rather focused on the idea of having sex with Yamato, now that it's occurred to him, and wonders how to change Yamato's mind.
Feeling...bold, he supposes, he disregards his inclination to obey and moves closer to Yamato on the bench, sensing that it gives him the advantage. "I don't understand. If I am sexually attracted to you, and you are sexually attracted to me, then why shouldn't we do the things that people who share a sexual attraction usually do?" He places a hand on Yamato's thigh as he speaks, acting on his earlier thoughts of touching Yamato, and the warm damp skin beneath his palm sets his pulse throbbing in his ears.
It is strange, still, but not unpleasant.
Yamato makes that strangled noise again and puts his hand over Sai's, fingers gripping tight around Sai's wrist, and the excitement in Sai's stomach increases at the touch.
"God, Sai--" Yamato swallows, thickly, and Sai watches the movement of his throat with fascination. "We shouldn't--"
He's no longer saying 'we can't', Sai notes, and decides that it's an improvement in his favor. "Why shouldn't we, Taichou?"
Yamato draws in a very deep breath. "I'm several years older than you, for starters."
Sai blinks. "Does that matter?"
He's only seeking clarification--he truly doesn't know--but Yamato appears to take it as a valid refuting of his reasoning. "Er. Well. I also frequently serve as your squad captain, which makes it inappropriate." His fingers twitch against Sai's wrist.
People have so many notions about what's appropriate and what's not; Sai tries his best but wonders if he'll ever be able to grasp them all. "I don't understand," he repeats, and remembers to furrow his brow and frown a little so his expression conveys that he's perplexed. "Why is it inappropriate?"
Yamato takes another deep breath; he lifts Sai's hand away and places it next to Sai on the bench before letting it go. "It's...about perception, mostly. People might perceive that I'm showing favoritism to you, or that I'm using my authority to coerce you into something you wouldn't choose to do yourself. Or...or that you're influencing me to gain some sort of advantage or advance your rank, that sort of thing."
None of which makes any sense to Sai, particularly as no one else is here with them. His observations thus far tell him that Yamato does want to have sex with him, as he'd initially surmised; Yamato's objections seem to be less about a lack of interest and more about protecting Sai from possible negative repercussions. It's a commendable trait in a squad captain, certainly, but Sai is mildly...annoyed, he thinks, that it's interfering with his newly-realized attraction.
"But...there's no one here to perceive the situation incorrectly, and I am not trying to gain any undue privilege from you," he says. "I am trying to explore and act on my discovery that I'm sexually attracted to you, and that you share that attraction." He beams one of his smiles briefly in hopes that it will be persuasive. "Isn't that all that really matters?"
Yamato sighs. "It should be, I suppose, but..." He trails off.
"Yamato-taichou," Sai says, sorting through the jumble of unfamiliar and half-formed and tentatively-named emotions that he finds himself experiencing. "I want you."
It's a phrase he's encountered in his reading; he doesn't think he grasps the full scope of its meaning but he's fairly certain from context that it's at least appropriate for the task of conveying to Yamato these feelings that he's trying to identify within himself.
"Sai," Yamato says, staring, and there are so many emotions that Sai cannot name in his voice, in his eyes.
Sai gives him a small smile, because it seems like the thing to do. "I...want you," he says again, slowly, intrigued by the sound of those words in his mouth. He feels it as he says it, more than the heat and the tension in his groin and his belly, more than his increased heart rate, more than his curiosity about sex in general; he's not sure precisely what it is that he wants but he is...pleased, by the thought that Yamato specifically might be able to help him figure it out. "I am still new at wanting things, but...I want you. I want to have sex with you. I want to understand these things I feel about you that I can't name."
Danzou would not approve, but Danzou is dead, and Sai is beginning to recognize by now that his own best interests were never in line with Danzou's approval regardless.
He reaches to touch Yamato's thigh again, with only his fingertips, just above Yamato's knee, and that feeling of excitement in his stomach tightens.
Yamato doesn't stop him, this time, and Sai moves his touch higher up Yamato's leg.
Yamato shivers.
Sai's fingers reach the edge of Yamato's towel, slide beneath it.
Yamato exhales a shaky breath, and he is gripping the edge of the bench so hard that his knuckles are white.
Sai's pulse is racing, and he presses his hand flat against the warm skin of Yamato's upper thigh, high up underneath the towel. "Yamato-taichou," he says, softly, not sure really what he means to say, but Yamato's eyes close briefly at the sound of his voice and he thinks it's probably not important anyway.
"Oh, god, Sai," Yamato breathes, and then he is leaning forward, reaching to gently grasp the back of Sai's neck and pull him closer.
Yamato pauses with a mere handspan between their faces, head tilted, hesitating, and Sai recognizes that they are poised to kiss.
He has read about kissing, and seen it done, but has never given any thought to doing it himself. Here like this with his pulse beating madly in his ears and his breath growing short in his chest and Yamato's thigh warm and naked beneath his hand, though, it seems a perfectly natural idea and he is the one who moves forward, presses his lips against Yamato's.
Yamato makes a small sound, down low in his throat, and his hand tightens on the back of Sai's neck.
Sai doesn't really know quite how to go about a kiss from here and lets Yamato take over, lets Yamato teach by demonstration. Yamato's lips part slightly against his, press his bottom lip between them and pull gently off, and Sai feels somewhat dizzy as Yamato repeats the sequence. He has the thought that he should follow Yamato's example, mimic his movements, but then Yamato's mouth is open against his, the tip of Yamato's tongue is sliding gently along the cleft of his lips, and a shiver runs through Sai as he opens his mouth in turn.
Yamato's tongue touches his briefly, light but warm; that intimate little curl of sensation sends a surge of heat through Sai and before he can analyze the specifics of what he's doing he's using his tongue as well--automatically following his captain's lead as he's always been taught--and oh, oh, that feeling of dizziness is closer to vertigo now and it's sort of like Yamato is trying to consume him from the inside out, but it is very...enjoyable, all the same.
Yamato is panting when he breaks the kiss at last.
"God, Sai," he says again with emphasis, resting his forehead against Sai's, and Sai is rather short of breath himself but he tilts in to kiss Yamato again, because it is new and unexpected and more pleasant than he might have imagined.
Yamato makes a strangled, breathless noise and leans back into the corner, drawing Sai toward him.
Sai raises up and moves with him, placing one knee on either side of Yamato's leg and balancing himself with his free hand on Yamato's shoulder. His other hand is still pressed against Yamato's thigh beneath the towel; he keeps kissing Yamato, relatively certain he's doing it correctly, and carefully moves his hand in to touch Yamato's erection.
Yamato jerks, gasps into his mouth with a little groan behind it.
Yamato's penis is very hard, and hot to the touch, and Sai runs curious fingertips along its length, intrigued with the feel of it. Yamato shivers, and the sound he makes through the kiss heightens the tension in Sai's groin; he grips Yamato's erection firmly with his whole hand and breaks the kiss. "Yamato-taichou--"
Yamato exhales a short laugh, weak and shaky, and moves his hand from the back of Sai's neck to his shoulder. "No need to call me 'taichou' when you've got my dick in your hand, is there?" His voice is thin and unsteady.
Sai has thought that addressing Yamato familiarly might be considered disrespectful and has never asked permission to do so; having the privilege offered makes him feel...pleased, again.
"Yamato." It is odd to speak only his name, but it increases the excited feeling in his stomach at the same time and Sai decides that he likes it. "Please take off your towel?"
Yamato hesitates, and Sai kisses him again, using his tongue, and then Yamato is untucking the knot that keeps his towel in place and pulling it open one-handed.
Sai stops kissing him and looks down; his first thought is that his own pale hand wrapped around the flushed skin of Yamato's erection is a very striking contrast and he blinks, committing that image to memory with the idea of painting it later.
While Sai has seen Yamato's penis before, in the onsen, in the showers, he has never seen it hard; he is...very pleased, he thinks, that its aroused state is a response to him.
He understands the basic idea of manual stimulation--a back-and-forth motion and a firm grip simulating the movement and sensation of sexual intercourse--and while he has never done it, the concept seems simple enough. He flexes his hand, draws the skin of Yamato's penis toward the head, then pushes back toward the base, and the sound that Yamato makes is very encouraging. He does it again, and again, settling into a slow rhythmic stroking and watching the play of reaction across Yamato's face to gauge whether or not he's doing it correctly.
Yamato holds his gaze at first, which winds the tension in Sai's stomach even tighter, but as Sai gains more confidence in what he's doing, Yamato's eyelids begin to droop and his mouth opens slightly around his panting breaths. "Oh, god, Sai," he groans, tilting his head back against the wall, and his hips move a little in tandem with Sai's strokes.
Sai notices a droplet of sweat rolling down Yamato's throat and recalls the impulsive thoughts that started him down this path; since his hands are otherwise occupied, he leans in and brushes his lips over Yamato's skin behind that sweat drop, then traces the path again with the tip of his tongue.
Yamato makes a sound very like an animal in pain; his penis twitches in Sai's grasp and his hips buck upward, throwing off Sai's rhythm for an instant. Yamato moves both hands to grasp Sai's head, behind the ears, and draws Sai's face up on a level with his own again. "God, Sai--" he's being very repetitive, Sai thinks "--you--I--don't stop, oh, god--" His mouth connects with Sai's again, and his words get sort of mashed in between.
Sai finds that it's slightly harder to concentrate on moving his hand with Yamato kissing him, but he is a skilled shinobi and perfectly capable of focusing on two actions at once. He follows Yamato's lead in the kissing, feels it sending heat down his spine to pool in the pit of his belly, and keeps his hand moving deftly at a swift and steady pace.
Yamato breaks away from his mouth shortly, gasping, and the look on his face, in his eyes--Sai can't aptly name it, but he finds it...mesmerizing, he thinks, all the same.
"Sai--" Yamato's tone is heavy, urgent, breathless, and he splays his hands wide around the shape of Sai's head, tilting his own up until their foreheads touch. "Sai--ohgod!--so close, I can't--ahn--Sai--!"
He must mean climax, Sai surmises, and ignores the twinges of fatigue in his arm, stroking just a little more firmly, just a little bit faster.
Yamato makes a broken, helpless sort of sound and his head tips back, bringing his open mouth to touch Sai's, but it's not a kiss. His eyes roll and his grip on Sai's head clenches sharply, spasms, and his penis pulses as he makes that sound again. Warm slick wetness spills over Sai's hand and Yamato groans, shuddering, before slumping back against the wall.
Sai stops stroking and lets go of Yamato's slowly-shrinking erection, lets semen drip from his hand onto Yamato's thigh and traces a wet fingertip through the droplets curiously. Yamato doesn't object; his eyes are closed and he's breathing hard, and it makes Sai feel...something, something warm and pleasant that he nonetheless can't name.
He has done this to Yamato, he is responsible; it was his touch that brought Yamato pleasure, brought him to climax.
The warm arousal in his own stomach surges gently at the thought. He is pleased, without question, but there is...more to the feeling than that.
He files the thought away for later analysis, wipes his hand clean on one end of Yamato's open towel and wipes the semen from Yamato's leg and groin as well. Yamato twitches when the rough cloth brushes his penis, and his eyes blink open.
Sai gazes down at him, unsure exactly what to do next. He's certain, based on what he's read about sex, that Yamato should now bring him to climax as well, but Yamato appears completely exhausted and Sai wonders if perhaps he rushed incorrectly through the process, if he pushed Yamato to orgasm too hard or too quickly.
A measure of this uncertainty must show on his face, because Yamato flashes him a very gentle smile.
"Sex is always best when both people are satisfied," he says, reaching for Sai, and there is something in his expression now that makes Sai's breath catch.
"Oh," he says, for lack of anything more significant, and thinks that the way he feels in that instant is best described as 'anticipation'.
Yamato's fingers move to his towel, untucking it; Sai braces both hands on Yamato's shoulders as the towel slides from his hips and comes to rest draped over his calf. Yamato runs his hands up Sai's body on either side, up to his ribs and then down again to his thighs, settling at last back on his hips. His eyes flick down, taking in Sai's nakedness, lingering over his erection, then returning to Sai's face. "You're so perfect," Yamato murmurs, his dark gaze holding Sai's intently, and then he moves a hand to touch Sai's penis, one fingertip running down its hard length.
The sensation is warm, and thrilling, and the heated tension in Sai's groin pulses heavily as he sucks in a quick breath.
Yamato grins gently. "Perfect," he repeats, and takes hold of Sai's erection firmly.
His hand is hot, and damp, and he gives a gentle pull, and Sai's thoughts stutter to a halt as pleasant heat curls out from his gut and seeps up his spine. His heart rate increases as Yamato does it again and his breath catches slightly; his eyelids flutter and he opens them again, caught fast in Yamato's stare as Yamato keeps stroking.
"How do you like it, Sai?"
"I--it feels--oh," he manages, struggling to articulate the new sensation. "It's...good--"
"Mmh," says Yamato, stroking him slowly, firmly, "good, good. But how do you like to be touched?"
"I...have never touched myself for pleasure," he says, somewhat breathless; the sensation of Yamato's hand moving around his penis is quickly consuming his focus and attention.
Unfortunately, his answer seems to have surprised Yamato enough to stop. "...Never?"
"No."
"That...you...oh." Yamato blinks at him, seeming at a complete loss for words, and Sai decides that this must be what impatience feels like. He would very much prefer that Yamato start moving his hand again; the tension in his stomach and groin is hot and insistent and good, but becoming rather unbearable all the same.
He touches Yamato's arm to redirect his attention. "Yamato--"
"Right. Sorry." Yamato resumes what he was doing and physical pleasure washes through Sai again quite suddenly; his hand clenches on Yamato's arm and he draws in a sharp breath.
Yamato is staring at him intently while his hand moves swift and firm, and Sai can't name most of the emotions blending in his face. "You've never masturbated."
"No."
"Never had sex."
"No--"
"Wet dreams?"
"I...perhaps, I don't know--"
"Can I safely assume you've never had an orgasm, then? At least not that you remember?"
"Yes--" It comes out of his mouth on a gasp; Yamato is doing something with his fingertips to the head of Sai's penis as he strokes and it increases the heat and the tension and the pleasure and Sai clutches at Yamato's bare shoulder, dizzy and panting.
"That's just not right," Yamato murmurs, twisting his hand in a way that makes Sai's vision flicker brightly for an instant as pleasure surges all the way up to the base of his skull, but then Yamato's hand is gone abruptly, and Sai's whole body shivers at the loss of stimulation.
"Here, come here," Yamato is saying, and Yamato's hands are at his hips, directing, so Sai follows their guidance. Yamato pulls him so that he's poised over Yamato's lap, knees on the bench to either side of Yamato's hips and hands braced on Yamato's shoulders, and draws him down so that their bodies are pressed together and Sai's penis, still very hard, is touching Yamato's, which is spent and soft. Yamato wraps his arms around Sai and tilts up to kiss him, and it is wet and deep and very very good with so much of their skin touching but it's even better when Yamato shifts Sai's hips back somewhat and reaches between them to stroke Sai's penis again.
Sai wraps his arms behind Yamato's neck while they kiss, tilts his head back when Yamato's mouth leaves his to trail down under his chin. He recalls the way that Yamato said his name before reaching climax, and does his best to emulate the tone.
"Yamato," he says, and it takes very little effort to inflect his voice with a sense of urgency. He understands as he says it that it conveys I like what you're doing to me as well as please don't stop doing it, and it seems quite effective; Yamato groans open-mouthed against his throat and quickens the pace of his strokes to Sai's penis.
And then Sai has no more thought to spare for how he might be expected to behave in this situation, because Yamato's thumb is rubbing along the underside of his penis on every stroke, right beneath the head, and the pleasure is swarming through his blood and it feels--it feels--he doesn't have any other words than good, so good, but they're inadequate--
His breathing is ragged and shallow, and he is so dizzy; he grips Yamato tightly as the pleasure keeps building and shifts to drop his forehead to Yamato's shoulder, panting. He is tense and sweating, awash in the heat of the sauna and all the sensations running under his skin; the feeling is intense and it's only growing more so at Yamato's stimulation. What's happening to his body would be alarming if he didn't trust Yamato so completely, if it didn't also feel so good. He's aware that his nails are digging into Yamato's shoulder, his arm, but he's unable to make himself stop. Pleasure is swelling within him, tighter and hotter and better and better and Yamato is murmuring in his ear, "Come for me, Sai," soft and low and Sai is so tense that he's trembling, and he can hardly breathe, and the pleasure--the pleasure--it feels almost unbearable as Yamato strokes him hard, and fast, and faster--
Climax, when it takes him, is both a surprise and a relief.
The pleasure overwhelms him, becomes suddenly and inexorably uncontainable; it convulses, shatters, rushes through his body with dizzying paralytic force. His breath lodges in his throat as his penis surges in Yamato's grip; he can feel semen jetting out of him in deep shuddering pulses, four times, a fifth, and he understands then why climax is also called 'release'.
He collapses against Yamato when it finally lets him go, much like a battle-puppet whose chakra strings have been cut. Lifting himself would take great effort; it's all he can do just to breathe at the moment, sucking in the heavy sauna air and expelling it again in short, sharp bursts. His semen is a sticky, slimy mess between them where his stomach touches Yamato's, but he can't rouse the effort to retrieve his towel or wipe them clean. He is very glad that Yamato's arms are around him because he feels boneless, weightless, like he's drifting on the warm eddies of pleasure still coursing through his body and only those arms keep him from drifting away altogether.
He thinks, vaguely, that this must be what 'afterglow' means. It's very disconcerting, but rather pleasant all the same.
Yamato holds him a moment longer, pressing kisses into the hair above his ear, before gently saying his name.
"Sai."
Sai tries very hard to stir himself to responsiveness with very little success.
"Sai." Yamato's voice is warm, fond, slightly amused as he repeats himself, and his hands slide to lift Sai by the shoulders. "Still with me?" he asks.
"Yes," Sai says, blinking Yamato's face into focus as his body begins remembering how to support itself. Yamato's mouth is turned up slightly at one corner, and there's a light in his eyes to match the tone of his voice; Sai thinks that the smile suits Yamato quite well, and that he'd like to paint it, later.
"We need to get cleaned up," Yamato is saying, "and then we should go shower off and get dressed. I think we've been in here long enough."
Sai jerks a quick nod. "Yes." The heat and the heavy air are hindering his efforts to clear his head and regain his equilibrium. He climbs off of Yamato's lap, retrieves his fallen towel from the floor, wipes at the semen on his stomach, but he is...distracted. Yamato is wiping himself clean also, and Sai finds that his gaze keeps returning to Yamato's naked body, that the word 'attractive' comes insistently to mind.
Yamato is toned and fit and athletically developed, as most shinobi tend to be; he has a well-defined body but it's hardly unique and Sai wonders why he has taken such particular notice of it.
He wonders if Yamato finds him attractive, as well.
He wonders if Yamato wants to have sex with him again.
As he understands it, people who have sex with one another more than once are generally in some sort of relationship that goes beyond the bonds of friends or comrades; it's unclear to him if the sex precipitates the nature of the relationship or if the relationship evolves to include the sex, but he is...curious.
He definitely wants to investigate sex with Yamato further; he knows the activity they just engaged in is only one of many ways it can be done and he thinks that exploring further with Yamato would be...very pleasant.
He wonders if it's appropriate to share this thought with Yamato.
He respects Yamato. He...admires Yamato. He finds Yamato's company agreeable--enjoyable, he thinks. He recalls the odd compulsion he's noted lately to spend time with Yamato; he suspects that he is...attached to Yamato, to a greater degree than he is to the other members of their team.
He thinks perhaps that he ought to research romantic attraction more thoroughly in the near future; his instincts suggest that might be the proper term for this attachment.
He feels so many unfamiliar things, and he wants Yamato to help him understand them all.
"Coming?" Yamato has knotted his towel back in place and is moving for the exit, glancing expectantly back at Sai over his shoulder.
Sai feels the inexplicable urge to trace his fingers over the curve of that shoulder, close them around the ANBU tattoo just below and press his lips to Yamato's skin where deltoid and trapezius muscles meet beneath it.
He has so many questions; he doesn't know which to ask first but realizes that he ought to speak up before Yamato opens the door, while they still have privacy. "Yamato-taichou--"
Yamato cuts him off with a smile and a wave of his hand. "As long as we're not on a mission, Sai, it's still okay for you to just call me 'Yamato'." He's reaching for the door.
"Are we going to do this again, Yamato?"
Yamato pauses, blinks at Sai, runs a hand up through his hair awkwardly. "Well, I...guess we need to talk about that, don't we, talk about all the ramifications and decide if that kind of relationship is something that you--that both of us want."
"Then...shouldn't we talk about it while we're still alone? From what I observe, sex is usually discussed in private, and the locker rooms are very public."
"Sai..." Yamato is smiling at him, the kind of smile that says part of him wants to laugh, and then Yamato has stepped in close against him and Yamato's hands are cradling his face and Yamato is kissing him very, very gently. It does not have the urgency, the fierceness of the kissing they did earlier, and it stirs a different sort of warmth in Sai's stomach. He raises his hands, places them lightly on Yamato's chest, curls his fingertips against wiry hair and damp skin and does his best to kiss back the same way.
"I appreciate that you're thinking of discretion," Yamato says at last, still close against his mouth, "but there's no need to talk it out right this second. It'll take a little while." He closes the scant space between them again, plying Sai with that gentle kissing until Sai is dizzy from it. He breaks off after another moment, pressing his lips to Sai's face on either side and then gently to the center of Sai's forehead.
His hands are warm, where they curve along Sai's jaw, and Sai decides that he likes this sort of kissing quite a lot as well.
"Come back to my place with me," Yamato offers, straightening up, letting his hands settle on Sai's bare shoulders. "We'll get something to eat, and then we'll have that talk. Alright?"
"Alright."
Sai's mind is still working it over, contemplating, analyzing, as they make their way to the locker room.
He plans to read whatever he can find on romantic interpersonal relationships, but he's beginning to learn that practical experience is often necessary to put the knowledge gained from books into proper perspective. He's aware that he doesn't know very much about these things, but Yamato...seems like a logical choice to help him understand them better.
He finds himself hoping that Yamato will be agreeable to the idea.
The cool spray of the showers is a relief after the heat of the sauna, and everything in Sai's head stops for a moment of pure sensuous indulgence. The water slithers over him, carries the heat and the sweat from his skin; unexpectedly, the sensation reminds him of the way Yamato touched him prior to stroking his penis.
He notes that arousal is stirring vaguely in the pit of his belly again.
He glances over at Yamato, and his eyes follow the rivulets of water running down Yamato's body, first one, then another, then another--down the concave line of his spine, over the contours of his hips, his buttocks, his thighs.
Attractive, Sai thinks once more, and then, tentatively, trying out the feel of it: ...Sexy...?
Yamato turns somewhat, and Sai watches the water pouring over the smooth dips and swells of his abdomen, streaming from his mostly-flaccid penis.
Sexy, he thinks again, more confidently this time. He glances up at Yamato's face; Yamato gives him that warm little smile and Sai turns away, feeling the urge to smile himself.
He lets it happen, deciding that he's glad it's Yamato he's attracted to.