Title: Ambiance
Summary: KakaSasu. Sasuke will never ask, and Kakashi will never tell.
Note: Post-timeskip AU. A very ambiguous scenario.
During thunderstorms, Kakashi has a habit of lying sprawled out on his back in the middle of a grassy field, eyes closed and arms limp by his side. Sometimes, it leaves him feeling cold to the bone; sometimes, it makes him feel human; sometimes, Sasuke walks into the field holding a thin umbrella with a slight frown marring his brows.
More often than not, Kakashi feels Sasuke before he hears him, feels the steady flow of chakra tightly coiled within the strong body. Sasuke almost never bothers to hide himself completely.
Today isn't one such day. Today is different. Today they are not in Hidden Leaf, not anywhere near the borders of Fire Country. They are on a mission in a village and it's raining.
Sasuke trudges his way through the ankle-high grass with ease, feet light and agile that they barely linger long enough to compress the shards of green. He stops at Kakashi's head, umbrella blocking out a column of rain. Sasuke narrows his eyes as he stares down at the closed-eyed jounin.
The thick stretch of the monotonous pitter-pattering of rain is shattered with a roar of thunder; it beckons open the unscarred eye, dark and flat and completely blank. Kakashi peers up through the curtain of silvery wet bangs, blinking slowly, almost dubiously, as Sasuke's face is cast in shadows, blending with the stormy night sky. The umbrella pulses red as lightning flashes overheard.
"You're blocking the rain," he says.
Sasuke doesn't even blink. "You're soaked," he counters.
Kakashi's eyes close into twin crescent smiles. "I didn't think you cared." And there is nothing in his tone that can betray him.
Sasuke grunts and takes a step back. The column free of water follows Sasuke, and a torrent of water floods over the soaking jounin.
There is that strange quietness again, heavy enough to mute out the multitude of thudding raindrops. Sasuke wonders if only they can hear it.
Kakashi laughs then, but the mirth quickly subsides into a sigh. Kakashi drapes his arm over his face to cover his eyes. "You should get some sleep." Sasuke thinks he sounds tired. He isn't entirely sure.
The rain answers with the same droning rhythm.
"You'll get sick," Kakashi says mildly.
The steady thrum of rain changes when Sasuke moves to disrupt the flow of water. Soon the pressure drumming into Kakashi's midsection disappears and is replaced by a firm pressure against the sides of his hip. More water splashes across Kakashi's mask.
A heavy weight—warm—settles on his stomach, cutting off the pelting rain. Sasuke is straddling his waist and shielding his torso. The umbrella, with the wooden shaft resting by Kakashi's head on a slant, forms a protective dome over their heads.
Their compacted world flickers Sharingan-red when lightning illuminates the thin material. Kakashi doesn't see, because his arm is still covering his eyes, but he's painfully aware of the prickling of grass at his back, the mud flowing around his body, the water droplets soaking through his skin, the pulse beating through his sides. He can feel, with a cursed sensitivity, that lingering heat seeping into his mask, the network of chakra pressing tightly into his chest in a way that makes it difficult to breathe.
"You're getting wet," Kakashi whispers, careful that his lips do not brush against anything but damp air.
Sasuke makes a sound that's dismissive and entirely amused at the same time. The heat presses over Kakashi's mouth through the soaking cotton. Kakashi holds his breath but can't quite suppress the shiver that runs through his body.
When Sasuke pulls away, he relaxes against Kakashi's lax body, legs still firmly pressed into Kakashi's sides as he nestles his head between the junction of Kakashi's neck and shoulder. He breathes hotly into the damp material and rocks his hips forward in a way that has Kakashi arching his back and biting his lip and clenching his hands into fists to repress the rising moan. His body is cold and freezing and Sasuke is a pleasant warmth cocooning him from the ice, bleeding into his veins and traveling right towards his heart.
"Yeah," Sasuke murmurs in delayed agreement when Kakashi fails to say anything else. There's a silent question lingering on the tip of his tongue, but he'll never ask it, will never broach the subject so long as Kakashi still smiles beneath his many, many masks that are cracking but not quite shattering.
The silence rings so loudly in both their ears that not even the static onslaught of water can drown it out.
Kakashi slides his free arm around Sasuke's back and pulls him closer. He breathes in his scent, tinted with rain and mud and grass; earth. He doesn't remove the arm draped over his eyes, and Sasuke says nothing when he feels a hot, wet trail burning down the side of his face, over his cheek, down his neck.
Sasuke sighs quietly and closes his eyes.