Much-Needed Pruning
Disclaimer: This is a purely non-profit story written for entertainment purposes only. The characters of Naruto belong to their respective owners.
Author's Notes: This was inspired by reading a few too many of Enkidu's Kakashi x Sasuke fics; it's an amusing pairing. This idea came to mind before I fell asleep, so it may seem half-formed. Sorry for the Kakashi/Itachi implications… they sort of wormed their way in there.
Much-Needed Pruning
He felt off today. No, worse than off; it was more like… outlandish, except he really couldn't grasp why. In the back of his mind, he had a perfectly plausible explanation for his mood, except why he felt that way about it still eluded him.
He should be proud that all his students were becoming chuunin now, taking a step further in their lives and trying to be the best they could. In the amount of time it had taken his team, he should be very proud; and, to an extent, he was… for Sakura and Naruto. With Sasuke, he didn't know how he felt; all he knew was that it wasn't nearly enough.
He tried to recall when it was they had started this bond/relationship thing. The memories were fuzzy at best, a blur of suggestive hints, 'accidental' touches, pointed looks, and promising whispers. It just so happened that one night, in the midst of their own personal despairs, they both let their guard down enough to make something of it. He knew it was no way to start a relationship, but he'd never meant for it to develop. Perhaps it was his thing to pick up young, good-looking ninjas and molest them while they weren't looking.
On that thought train came the haunting face of Itachi, so eerily similar to the body that had lain beside his only the night before. He could still remember every expression, every contour of his body and every word he'd ever said. Itachi didn't speak much; maybe that was why he bothered to keep the rustic phrases in storage on the brittle canvasses of his memory. When he had first touched him, Itachi had been expressive and demure (if one could categorize an Uchiha in such a way), almost vulnerable. By the last night, the night before he murdered his clan, Itachi had been as frosty as an ice storm – if ice storms had emotionless eyes as bloody as sunset. And although Sasuke wasn't nearly as murderous, he found he could still detect the underlying steel – the same steel Itachi had possessed – emerging slowly by the day.
If he had to blame anything, he supposed he'd attribute his obsession with the Uchiha clan to Obito. In all fairness, he'd never been able to rest since that accursed eye had been implanted in him, along with all the sorrow of the Uchihas. Perhaps Itachi's eyes had drawn him in because, all along, he knew that neither of them could live in peace. That once Itachi grew, it would all be over.
But that was just sickening, really.
He sighed heavily as he headed out of his apartment, looking more dishevelled than ever. In his abstraction, he had completely forgotten his book. Mindlessly, his feet walked of their own accord, simply letting him roam wherever the hell they wanted.
The problem with time, he mused, is that it changes people. The problem with being a pedophile is that, eventually and irrefutably, one must own up to the fact that children do not stay so forever.
Was that why he had let Itachi leave without even trying to go after him? Although only 13 at the time, Itachi had sailed far beyond his reach. He knew immediately that he couldn't get him back. And perhaps the knowledge that Sasuke existed, that there was someone else whom he could turn to, had made that decision a much easier one to cope with.
The more he thought about it, the more twisted everything got.
But if he really had simply turned to Sasuke for comfort, what was this hideously queasy feeling he got every time he tried to think of Sasuke as an adult, capable of his own decisions? He just didn't think he could deal with the fact that he would have to let someone go… again. Something had been different this time; this time, it had sparked something inside him that he had long thought dead. It was sort of like planting a small tree in a pot; when you finally ground it in soil, it awes you by its growth – but at the same time, you miss that little potted plant that you could take anywhere, that needed you to look after it. The potted plant that everyone called Sasuke had rooted itself firmly and now stood taller than his own withering height, heavy with age.
When he looked up again, he found that his feet had taken him to the small clearing just outside of town where, for the first time, he had taught his three freshly graduated genin how to work as a team. He heaved another sigh, ignoring the rush of recollections that threatened to destroy his overworked brain.
Light and unmistakable footsteps sounded behind him. He could tell those footsteps anywhere – delicate, purposeful, yet with an edge of stubbornness.
"Aren't you going to the ceremony (1)?" Sasuke asked, and he could feel those eyes – those-oh-so-familiar eyes – boring into the back of his neck.
"Maybe later," he replied evasively, not meeting his (he had never used this word to refer to him before) lover's eyes. It was alien to call Sasuke his lover, but he found it had a somewhat pleasant ring to it. By God, why had he turned into a pedophiliac?
"What's the difference?" Sasuke asked, and although Kakashi knew he could pretend perfectly well that the dark-haired boy had meant the ceremony, he decided to open the can of worms that squirmed in the underlying meaning.
"You've grown up," he said simply, as if that statement in itself was fully explanatory.
"So have you," Sasuke answered factually, and Kakashi couldn't help but laugh. "Adults don't run from monsters under the bed anymore."
"What about monsters in bed?" Kakashi joked. Sasuke merely gave him a scolding look. "Ok, you're right. But I'm not running, I'm just… evading."
Dark eyes studied him quizzically. "Why?"
"Because—" he stopped himself short. Wasn't this the question he had been asking himself all day, with no reply? But from Sasuke's lips, everything was suddenly crystal clear. "Because you're rooted now. I don't need to come around and check the soil anymore."
Sasuke only scoffed at him, which only served to plough that queasy feeling deeper into his heart. But a moment later, slender arms had wrapped themselves firmly around his torso, while a soft face buried itself almost childishly into his back.
"You're stupid."
Kakashi had a million retorts to that insult, but he was cut short by pliant and insistent lips softly touching his own. When he pulled back, obsidian eyes started at him intently through unruly bangs.
"It's not about tomorrow," those lips told him. "Tomorrow, we could both be dead. But right now…"
A hand had wriggled its way down his pants, and he was pulled invitingly into open arms that held him on top of an insatiably warm body. When the two were missed at the ceremony and later found by a terribly traumatized Naruto, both had fallen asleep with terribly inappropriate smiles on their faces.
END(1) – I'm making up a chuunin graduation ceremony if there isn't one. And if there is, yay.
AN: Ack, it was icky – too fluffy by far. :( It was meant to be funnier and way smuttier than that. I guess I'll just have to try again some other time.