I always write from Kakashi's point of view, so this once I thought "argh, screw it" and wrote all of it from Narutos POV.
If it wasn't obvious by the description, Naruto is older, maybe 20-ish.
They were at the ramen shop, sitting next to each other on the agile chairs, the long table stretching out from between them like a lonely pebble beach. Naruto had curled up like some kind of seaside snail, holding his stomach and groaning. "I'm so hungry-"
Kakashi smiled, such a carefree notion that it made Narutos chest tight and his stomachache even worse and seeing his sensei look so happy must be a crime, surely.
"Maa, I think you'll live."
By then Teuchi had appeared from the misty remnants of the kitchen, looking to take their order and get to work. "What can I get you?" he asked, tastefully choosing not to comment on the pained-looking and dirty student by the Hokage's side.
With an effort Naruto sat up straight. "I'll take the usual." He glared at Kakashi who damn well would be paying for this. "Two bowls, thank you." He pointedly started picking off leaves from the creases of his clothes where they had gotten stuck.
"I'll take the usual too, thank you," Kakashi said. "Put in some extra vegetables in Naruto's, please."
At this defiling notion Naruto's head shot up. "Oh hell n-" and by then he remembered the company he was in. He winced, "please don't."
Teuchi stared from Naruto to Kakashi, unsure of whom to listen to. The latter sat up, placed all his fingers on the counter in front of him, drummed. "I'm the Hokage," as if that settled everything.
Teuchi shrugged and left, and Naruto sank back down on the cool surface. "I know you are," he muttered. "And it pains me every day."
"What was that?" Kakashi asked, despite both of them knowing what he'd said.
It had been a couple of years since he'd taken over the seat from Tsunade, after the war. Naruto didn't mind so much for the sake of Konoha but more for the inevitable position of danger that came with the white coat. If there was something he'd learned through the years, it was that his sensei was prone to take the guilt and responsibility upon himself. It was easier for the people around him, sure, but harder on him. The first few months Naruto had checked in a lot, to see if he was holding up okay until he one day had found Kakashi sleeping in the office; the long legs sticking out from the sofa, with an invaluable history book cracked open across his face to shield him from the blaring ceiling lights overhead. After that Naruto had eased his grip a bit, was more prone to laugh at the redundancy of the council as Kakashi always did like he wanted anyway, politely ignoring their protests. His sensei was a silly and easy-going Hokage, stubborn when he thought it neccessary. A good man.
Teuchi put the bowls down and Naruto woke up from his reveries, started on the steaming hot food, expertly avoided getting blisters in the process by blowing on the noodles before gulping them down. He hadn't eaten since the day before as Kakashi had left the office around seven and they had been training until then. Now that he'd gotten used to it, Naruto revered the training sessions. The night air was less insistant than its burning predecessor, and periodically the moon was unearthed from behind the clouds and lended them its stranded light.
The clattering morning light swam in through the open window as Naruto started frying eggs. He often opened the window to let some heavy air out now that the kitchen fan was broken. There was a quiet clack as his door opened and he froze before he recognized the chakra. He didn't bother locking his door as he could defend himself, and would rather deal with any attackers head on. There was also the off-hand possibility that a thief would sneak in to search for valuables to sell, in which case Naruto gladly would join in on said search.
From behind the corner Kakashi peered into the kitchen.
Naruto sighed, more out of embarassment for his unkempt home than anything else. "What are you doing here?"
Kakashi blinked, as if unwelcome was a concept he'd never come across. "I'm on a mission to... mou..." then he actually paused to come up with a lie, and Naruto looked down at the frying pan where three eggs sizzled.
Knowing that whatever came next would be preposterous, he interrupted him. "Do you want some breakfast?"
The plans were all laid out on the desk, different kinds of scrolls cluttering the clear wooden surface with their adamant descriptions. Kakashi stood before it, having picked one to study closer and held it in front of him, reading intently.
Naruto had stopped in the doorway, still the tiniest bit reluctant to be imposing on him. There was also the fact that Kakashis backside reminded him of a painting, the broad shoulders and thin waist explaining the image of an ideal in terms that suddenly made sense to him. He supressed his insecurity and stepped into the office. Kakashi knew it was him, he was certain.
Naruto walked up to him so that he stood beside him. "Hey," he said, needing no grand gestures of reunion because in their movements there was an unspoken agreement to never be apart.
"Hi," Kakashi said, handed him the scroll he'd been looking at. "What do you think?"
Naruto took it from him, skimmed through the text quickly to get a feel for it. Kakashi put his arm around his back, so that it was resting on Narutos waist, because the little air that was between them was too much.
"I think this one's good. More structure," Naruto said.
When Kakashi removed his arm to fetch him another writing, he felt a wild abandon, as if everything that had been sacred was now not, as if the entire world was in despair, and it muddled him throughtout his thoughts, how one man could mean so much.