Kakashi's hands were the first thing Iruka noticed about him. Long, slender fingers reached across the mission desk to turn in a report. Iruka followed the pale digits to where they disappeared inside black gloves, moved his gaze up the lanky arms, and fell into the single visible eye. Kakashi's hands have come to mean everything to Iruka.
Kakashi's hands are fast. They fly through hand seals so fast that eyes almost can't follow them. They dart out and grab Iruka around the waist, pulling him into a quick kiss before he leaves for work.
Kakashi's hands are deadly. He hates their bloodstained history, but Iruka understands the work they do, protecting the village.
Kakashi's hands are rough. His books have sapped the moisture from them, drying out the nails at the ends of the long fingers. Cuts from missions and accidents cover them in fine lines which Iruka traces with a fingertip.
Kakashi's hands are cool. When Iruka had the flu, Kakashi would rest them on his fever flushed face, easing him back to sleep.
Kakashi's hands are comforting. They rub Iruka's back, removing tension from blackboards and parent-teacher conferences and long hours on the mission desk.
Kakashi's hands are needy. They reach out for Iruka like a plant reaching for sunlight. They touch him whenever and wherever they can, reassuring their owner that his lover is still near.
Iruka's hands were the first thing Kakashi noticed about him. Strong brown fingers appeared under the edge of his book, reaching out for his mission report. Kakashi's gaze traveled up the muscular arms, across the cheeks tinged with pink, and fell into deep chocolate eyes. Iruka's hands have come to mean everything to Kakashi.
Iruka's hands are slow. They patiently work through each seal, breaking it down to its elements so that his students can learn. At night they methodically remove Kakashi's clothes piece by piece, working their way down to his body.
Iruka's hands are fierce. He doesn't want to fight, but won't hesitate to guard the future of Konoha, protect the children he loves.
Iruka's hands are dirty, ink-stained from grading papers and correcting mission reports. Washing after each class has left them dry, causing them to crack in the winter, so Kakashi rubs them with salve each night before bed.
Iruka's hands are warm. When Kakashi came back from a mission, rain drenched and chilled to the bone, Iruka's hands rubbed him dry with a towel, easing feeling back into his limbs.
Iruka's hands are soothing. They tend to Kakashi's wounds when he returns from a mission, softly changing bandages and brushing gently over bruises.
Iruka's hands are greedy. They run lightly over Kakashi's pale skin as it gleams in the moonlight, memorizing every inch so that their owner can remember his lover when he is away.
And if Kakashi's hands…
And if Iruka's hands…
Tremble slightly while accepting…
While handing over…
A mission…
And if Iruka's hands…
And if Kakashi's hands…
Are restless with nerves when Kakashi…
When Iruka…
Has been gone five weeks on a three week mission…
And if Kakashi's hands…
And if Iruka's hands…
Hide in pants pockets…
Are filled with paperwork…
So that their worry isn't visible to the village…
To the other nins…
And if Iruka's hands…
And if Kakashi's hands…
Cling tightly at night…
Or in the morning…
Or in stolen moments together…
Reluctant to let go in case this moment is the last…
Then that is for Kakashi's hands…
Then that is for Iruka's hands…
To know.