DISCLAIMER I dont own naruto. nuff said.

this fic was borne of paranoia. not MY paranoia, but paranoia in general. no matter how much someone tells you they love you, theres always a little niggling doubt in the back of your mind that tries to convince you they dont and that they must only be saying it to get something. know what i mean? this paranoia can lead to people doing silly things that they think are right at the time, but obviously arent.....
i apologise for the original female character. i dont really like doing that, but it was the easiest and best way to carry the story forward and give it body, if you know what i mean (sweatdrop)
most o the parings here wont become apparent straight away...i wanna keep y'all guessing! its a kakairu fic at the core, but that doesnt mean there wont be some others.... ;) read on before its too late!!!

oh also i warn that this isnt the beta-read version, although that'll be posted as soon as i have it. i just couldnt wait to post!!!

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Chapter 1 - So much for the afterglow

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The sun rose slowly into the blue sky above Konoha, struggling to shine through layers of damp cloud. It was late spring and the village was at the tail end of its rainy season. The weak light seeped through the thin white fabric of Kakashi's bedroom curtains, burning red circles into the jounin's eyes behind his closed lids. He peeled them apart slowly, waiting for them to adjust to the gloom before opening them fully. He turned his head to the right and checked the time on his alarm clock.

Five-thirty. Ah, I've got ages. Don't have to be up for another hour.

He smiled sleepily, turning onto his left side and burying his face into the warm blue pillow.

Another blissful hour of peaceful, uninterrupted sl -

He just managed to stifle his scream when he saw the person lying beside him.

Kakashi flew out of the bed, but he stumbled and slid on a pile of Icha Icha Paradise books he had left by the bed and fell with a loud, painful thump onto his ass. This noise, combined with his angry bellow, woke his sleeping guest.

"Huh? Mmmmmwhattimessssit?" Iruka mumbled blearily. All further enquiries were interrupted by the arrival of a slipper on his face, thrown by the irate Jounin.

"You did it again! I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were doing it on purpose, just to piss me off!" Kakashi hissed vehemently. Iruka stared at him, sleepy and confused.

"Eh? Did WHAT again?"

"Fell asleep! I'm sick of telling you, I don't want you to sleep here, I don't want you to spend the night, I don't want anything like that! Now MOVE." He grabbed the edge of the covers and whipped them off the bed and the now annoyed chuunin. Iruka got to his feet and began gathering his clothes together as he made his way to the bathroom. Before he reached the door, however, Kakashi was in front of him, barring his way.

"Nope, sorry, don't have time. You'll have to wait till you get home."

Iruka stared at Kakashi, dumbstruck. "Oh, come on! I won't have time to get home and shower before I have to leave for work!"

"Well, you should have thought of that before you conveniently 'fell asleep'." The sarcasm positively dripped off his voice. "Now come on, get dressed and get out." Kakashi turned on his heel and marched to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Iruka rolled his eyes at the ninjas departing back and began pulling on his clothes. His body reeked of sweat, and he hoped to god his clothes didn't stink half as bad as he did. Taking their clothes off hadn't really been a priority the night before, with the both of them being too frantic with passion to care. It had been all Iruka could do to drop his pants before Kakashi just ripped them off him, and Iruka had been in just as much of a hurry when it was his turn. He lifted his sweater to his nose and sniffed it gingerly.

Hmmm. Doesn't smell too bad.

It was only once he was fully dressed that he noticed the suspicious white stain on the front of his trousers.

Oh, no....

"KAKASHIIII!" Iruka wailed. The Jounin hurtled in from the bathroom, stark bollock naked and dripping wet.

"WHAT? THE! HELL!! Where's the fire?!"

"LOOK AT THIS!!" Iruka thrust the garment into Kakashi's face, his own face a picture of horror and desperation. "Look what you did!"

Kakashis's eyes bugged out so far they were in danger of leaving their sockets completely. "What I did? How do you know it wasn't you? And keep your voice down!" he whispered hotly.

"I know it wasn't me because I don't make a habit out of dripping all over myself when I pull out whereas you, unfortunately, do!"

Kakashi's jaw dropped, flabbergasted. "I do not!"

Iruka waved his hands in the air. "Look, I don't have time for this. Some of us have proper jobs to go to, and SOME of us take pride in being ON TIME. Could you loan me a pair of trousers?"

"Wha - no! Not after you just insulted me! Besides, my trousers wouldn't fit you."

"Oh come off it Kakashi. You're taller than me but that doesn't mean you're wider as well. Just please give them to me and then I'll be out of your hair." Iruka sighed and put one hand on his hip, looking at Kakashi with eyebrows raised.

Kakashi paused, torn. He could either continue to lord it over Iruka, have him go through the whole day with his embarrassingly stained trousers, or he could get what he had wanted originally, and get Iruka out of his house.

Most people have a shoulder angel and a shoulder devil to help them decide between good or bad, right and wrong.

Kakashi's angel was currently missing in action.

"Ah, I'm sorry Iruka. I just don't think I have any clean ones myself." He fixed his face into what he hoped was a suitably apologetic expression and gave the pissed-off chuunin his best puppy-dog eyes.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Iruka yanked his trousers back on, and walked over to his usual exit, the window. His unbound hair whipped around his head as he pushed it open and got lightly onto the sill. Kakashi opened his mouth, but Iruka cut him off before the words had left his throat.

"I know what you're going to say, so don't bother. Don't worry, I wont let anyone see me leave," he said without turning around. "Oh, and just so you know, what you said about me falling asleep on purpose? That couldn't be farther from the truth. You snore, you hog the covers and you talk in your sleep. Your bedroom stinks of sex and sweat and could really do with a thorough cleaning. Or perhaps you'd be better off just setting fire to the place and starting again. It'd save you a lot of time. Trust me Kakashi, I wouldn't spend ANY time here if I didn't have to."

And with that, he was out the window and gone.

Kakashi shut his mouth, the words 'I'm sorry' dying on his lips.

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Imagine you love someone. Imagine you've loved them for such a long time - practically since the first time you laid eyes on them. You don't know them, you don't know anything about them save a few facts that are common knowledge, but still, you're hooked on them. Their every movement is graceful, like flowing water, even when at their clumsiest, and their voice is sweeter than any music you've ever heard. You find yourself making up excuses just to be near this person you don't know, and as time passes you see them look at you as you look at them. Then they smile at you. Your heart skips a beat and you practically float off to cloud nine there and then. It seems their interest is growing, because one day they stop you in the street and actually speak to you! And you can't say a single coherent word. Your tongue is tied in to so many knots. But you don't care. Because they're paying you attention, and that's all that matters.

But you'll keep telling yourself they couldn't possibly be interested in someone like you.

Even after you finally work up the courage to find them at work, and walk into the office with a speech prepared, only to find that they were doing the exact same thing. You stand, awkward and blushing, but you finally work up the courage to say how you feel. But they speak at the same time as you! You end up asking each other out at the same time, cue bashful smiles and embarrassed blushes all round.

But you'll keep telling yourself they couldn't possibly be interested in someone like you.

Now imagine you go on your first date, which turns out to be a romantic dinner at home because you both decide it's best not to let anyone know about your relationship, just for now. No one even knows you know each other. So you sit and talk all night, about your pasts and your hopes for the future, your jobs, likes, dislikes, all the usual mindless chitter chatter people indulge in when they're so nervous they're about to be sick. You realize you have so much in common with each other, but not so much it would become uncomfortable and just plain weird. You've never enjoyed yourself with someone this much in your entire life; you don't want the night to end. You stare at them across the table, just looking at them as they talk, taking in every detail: hair color and length, eye color, skin tone, noticeable scars, just silly little things that you would never normally notice but on this person, they seem like the brushstrokes of the most exquisite painting in the world, all lovingly brought together to form a work of art. Every detail is picture-perfect. They are perfect.

So you keep telling yourself they couldn't possibly be interested in someone like you.

Eventually, the candle burns down until it's nothing but a flickering stump, and you know what that means. It's time for the most awkward moment in any budding relationship: The Goodnight Kiss. You walk to the door, laughing nervously and rubbing the back of your head, searching for a way to say that you don't want to go, or you don't want them to leave. You pause at the open doorway and smile at each other shyly, expressing just a little too forcefully how good a time you've had to hide your anxiety. But soon it can't be put off any longer, and you both lean forward at the same time, lips touching for the tiniest fraction of a second. But as soon as you pull away, you look into each other's eyes for a split second and soon your arms are wrapped around each other, your lips burning as they press theirs to yours. You feel like your heart is about to explode, your brow is sweating and all rational thought has abandoned you. Which is when you begin the long walk to the bedroom. The door is closed, clothes are removed and soon you're making the slowest, deepest, most beautiful and sensual love possible. Every second is like heaven and you honestly can't believe it's happening to you.

So you keep telling yourself they couldn't possibly be interested in someone like you.

And then, as you lay in each other's arms, the moonlight dusting them with a beautiful silvery glow that makes them look like the most divine creature on earth, you'll keep telling yourself they couldn't possibly be interested in someone like you.

No matter what happens, you will keep on telling yourself this.

Because this is how your life works. How it has always worked. If something is too good to be true, then it probably is.

This is how Iruka and Kakashi's lives worked.

Lacking any real amount of self-confidence, both had convinced themselves they were not worthy of the other's attentions, justifying their actions by reasoning that any true sign of affection, such as a declaration of love, was really just a lie to make the other feel better, wanted, and more than just a casual bedmate. This led to deep seated resentment that, as they believed, their love was true and heartfelt while the other's was no more than a mere word, lacking feeling and emotion. Of course, this was not the case, as Kakashi loved Iruka with all his heart, while Iruka felt exactly the same for Kakashi.

But they didn't know that.

Because, as men are prone to, they refused to tell the other of their problem. They were both too stubborn and proud to admit they were hurting. Eventually, the distrust between the two grew over the passing weeks until it pained them to even see each other. The insecurities and habitual mistrust, expressed in barbed comments and vicious insults, widened the gulf between the two. Words that should never be spoken, especially not in anger, were heartbreaking. The fact that neither meant a single word just made it all the more tragic.

Typical...

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The staffroom door opened with a sudden gust of wind and a deafening bang as Iruka stalked into the room. Several stunned ninjas paused, coffee cups almost at their lips, and sandwiches frozen mid-chomp, as he stormed across the room, eyes boggling at the normally composed and well-groomed chuunin. He slammed the cupboard door as he removed a mug, and went about making the noisiest cup of coffee ever. BANG went the cup on the counter, BANG went the coffepot as he put it back on the machine, and BANG went his knee against the table leg as he threw himself into his chair behind the desk he shared with a new chuunin teacher, a young girl named Miharu Kiriyama. She blew her thick, bright bubblegum-pink fringe out of her eyes while she waited for Iruka to stop silently cursing while simultaneously banging his head off the tabletop. Eventually he stopped and sighed heavily, putting his face in his hands and groaning quietly.

"Rough night, Umino-san?" she asked quietly, looking at Iruka from the corner of her honey-orange eye as she made a few marks on the cover of a folder before dumping it in the tray before her marked "Done".

Iruka turned and looked at her through red-rimmed eyes and smiled wearily. The two had only been working together for about a month but had already struck up a firm friendship, although they still referred to each other formally while at work. Miharu was one of those people that never let anything get her down, resorting to sarcasm and sardonic wit whenever she was in a bad mood, which never failed to cheer Iruka up. Like the time a few weeks ago when Raido went up to her in the staff room, charm turned on full blast. He had reached out and twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, pulling her face close to his and murmuring, "You know something, sweetcheeks? If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put "U" and "I" together..." then gave her his biggest cool-dude smile. Miharu had smiled back coquettishly and leaned in closer, whispering in his ear, "You know what, shitforbrains? If I could rearrange the dictionary, I'd put "Your", "Penis", and "Shredder" together." Raido had blushed crimson before beating a hasty retreat from the room, leaving everyone wondering what had happened. Iruka was the only one Miharu told the full story to, and it made Iruka giggle like mad whenever he thought about it. It was little things like that about her he liked. She could always make him laugh. Even if he had just had a blazing row with Kakashi, he could always rely on her to make things feel alright again. "Yeah, Kiriyama-san, I guess you could say that! I didn't get much sleep, as you can probably tell." Well, it's not a COMPLETE lie, he reasoned with himself. Kakashi hadn't exactly been gentle with him the night before, and he hadn't got much sleep, although for far different reasons from the ones currently swimming through the young girls mind. She smiled back at Iruka and raked a hand through her hair again before draining her coffee cup and taking it to the sink and rinsing it before putting it away. She paused at the desk again before she left the room, leaning down close to Iruka so as not to be overheard by any nosy shinobis.

"You know something, Iruka? The 'Just Got Out Of Bed' look REALLY suits you..." she reached up and fingered a strand of his hair, which he had forgotten to tie back, rubbing it up and down before tucking it behind his ear. "With your hair all wild and free like this, you look like a different person....a helluva sexy different person. A girl could get ideas from hair like that..." With that she smirked and left, leaving Iruka blushing a rather fetching shade of strawberry. He dazedly touched his hair where Miharu had tucked it behind his ear. Did she really think he was sexy? It was never something Iruka had considered himself. Handsome in a stereotypical sort of way, sure, cos he knew he had smooth tanned skin and a nice smile, or perhaps cute when he put on his innocent little chuunin act for Kakashi, but never sexy! Sexy was reserved for people like Kakashi and Asuma, whos muscular bodies and chiseled looks set them apart from the other men. He frowned and wondered if Kakashi found him sexy.

"Some people have all the luck."

Iruka jerked his head up to see Genma, a Jounin he wasn't entirely familiar with, standing infront of him and staring somewhat wistfully out the open doorway. Iruka sipped his coffee as he pondered this statement. "What do you mean, Shiranui-san?"

"Well, some of us just can't get close to the objects of our desire, and we have to watch from afar as these people who are practically perfect strangers just waltz into their lives and become their best friends." He stared down into his own cup and shook his head before laughing softly and smiling. "It's just a little disheartening, y'know? Watching someone do what you can't." Iruka smiled sympathetically at the look on the jounins face. He looked a little like a kicked puppy.

"Well, trust me Shiranui-san, there's nothing between myself and Kiriyama-san except for a good friendship, as cheesy as that may sound. She's a fantastic girl, and I'd probably be a very lucky man if I were with her, but it's not like that. The only competition you've got for her heart is every other man in the building, you don't have to worry about me!"

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. Genmas face took on an altogether different expression, this one sad and somewhat troubled. He turned away from Iruka and made his way towards the door. Iruka watched his departing back for a second, confused, before shaking his head and turning back to his now stone-cold coffee.

"Umino-san?"

Iruka jerked round. Genma had stopped at the door and was now looking at him over his shoulder.

"Yes, Shiranui-san?"

"I wasn't talking about Miharu."

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TBC
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O.o