Kiba is fretting. Akamaru is sick which is bad, and they're stuck in Suna which is worse, and Kiba might have yelled at one or five doctors too many during their stay at the local clinic to feel completely safe when he's napping in the chair closest to Akamaru's rather luxurious bed. By that he means that it's completely not his fault when he accidentally skewers the Kazekage's oldest son with a kunai. The guy definitely snuck up on him.
"Fucker!" the guy yells as he jumps away from Kiba, watching him rather suspiciously. To be fair, Kiba is holding another kunai up rather threateningly, so it's a generally good call.
Kiba raises his hands in the air after dropping the kunai on the floor. "Sorry about that," he says as apologetically as he can manage. It's not very apologetical really, Kiba has too much of a resting bitch face, but it seems to be enough because the guy relaxes and loosens his shoulders. He glares down at the kunai going right through his hand and then makes a disgusted face as he pulls it out.
He glares at Kiba as he throws it in the trash, which is fair. Kiba did stab him.
"Sensitive much?" the guy snarks at him as he starts to heal up his hand with softly glowing green light. That's a surprise, Kiba hadn't thought that they taught medical jutsu to people wearing catsuits.
Kiba scratches at his neck. "Yeah, a little maybe. Haven't made too many friends here," he admits a bit shamefaced.
"I'd heard," the guy says. He's smiling a little though, just noticeable at the corner of his mouth, and Kiba grins back. The little smirk disappears as he does but it's too late, the guy's secret is out.
He finds Kiba amusing. Kiba can work with that.
"I might have threatened them a bit," he admits.
The guy snorts. "From what I heard it was more than a bit. Didn't you threaten to castrate one of the doctors?"
Kiba had. In vivid detail. "Eh, who's to say? I can't help what people read into it, you know." Kiba had said he was going to cut off the man's balls and use them as fertilisers because they were too disgusting to be dog food. He really has no leg to stand on when it comes to what people read into it.
The guy obviously knows that but still let's it slide with a return of the smirk. Then he, as if remembering himself, he looks at Akamaru and the smiles slip off both their faces.
"So, what's wrong with him?"
Kiba shrugs. "Heatstroke. He's not built to handle the desert heat."
The guy hums in thought, and Kiba needs to subtly ask what his name is because he can't for the life of him remember. "Doesn't all ninja animals regulate their body temperature with chakra, though?" He places his palms on Akamaru's chest, glowing green of diagnostic medical jutsu.
"Well, yeah. But he got some sort of bug that made his chakra levels fluctuate and his body couldn't fight that and the heat and the same time. It's why they installed the cooling fans. We're hoping that'll do the trick."
"His lungs are fine," the guy says. He's frowning, deep in concentration, and Kiba finds the look uncomfortably fetching on him. Which is disconcerting. "And his fever is gone. It seems like the fans are working, though we're keeping him here at least another day to make sure."
Kiba collapses down into his chair, all the strings holding up his limbs cut right off. "That's good. That's great." He puts his head in his palms and just breathes for a moment, in and out in a steady rhythm. "I thought he was getting better but it's a relief to hear it, you know? I'm not used to him being the one hurt like this, when there's no enemy to get revenge on."
The guy smiles at him and yikes, Kiba really fucking has a problem. His timing is spectacular. "Understandable," The guy says. "We all worry when our family's hurt."
"Yeah," Kiba sighs. "I guess we do."
They guy doesn't look like he's leaving any time soon though Kiba is pretty sure he has a lot more patients to visit, doctors always do. Kiba's not going to be the one to bring that up, though. It's comforting to have a friendly face nearby after a few weeks of being a stranger. Not that Kiba's gotten any closer to remembering his name.
"No offence, but I really can't remember your name," Kiba says because he's a straightforward kind of guy. "And it's bugging me."
The guy snorts. "And here I thought punching you in the face made me rather memorable. Shows what I know."
"Hey!" Kiba protests in mock outrage. "The punch I remember. You had purple nail polish on and scratched me in the eye. I also remember your clothes." Kiba lets his eyes travel up the length of the guy's body. "I like this suit better, though," he says and grins so that his canine teeth show.
The guy splutters and goes a fetching, deep red, and he's looking to the door like he wants to run away. Kiba's not going to stop him if he does, because that's creepy dick behaviour. The guy composes himself, though, straightening up and looking very tall all of a sudden, and Kiba is definitely ok with that look directed at him.
Like it's game on.
"Kankuro," he says. "Is my name. I think it's only fair that you take care and remember it properly, this time, or I'm just going to have to punch you in the face again."
"Good to know." Kiba leers at him. "Though you should know I don't mind getting punched that much. It can be fun. Exciting, too, if you do it right."
Kankuro just observes him for a moment. Calmly. Like a cat. Then he moves, stalking toward Kiba, and there's really no other word for the way he moves his hips and how he stretches out his long legs with each step he takes. They're not very far apart, just the length of a bed, and though realistically Kiba knows it only takes a moment for Kankuro to cross the distance it feels like an eternity. His mouth goes dry and he stops breathing.
"If you do it right, huh," Kankuro murmurs and grasps Kiba's chin with his sharp nails. They're without polish, Kiba notices. "I guess I could try."
"Go for it," Kiba challenges breathlessly. He wets his lips, anticipating the kiss that he knows is coming. He almost closes his eyes.
It's a good thing he doesn't because Kankuro goes for his face not with his mouth but with his fist. Kiba falls out of his chair rather gracelessly, but he does avoid getting punched in the face, instead ending up on his ass on the floor with his legs spread wide on each side of Kankuro.
Kankuro looks down on him with a touch of disdain, a dash of amusement, and a whole load of challenge. "I certainly see the appeal," he says.
Kiba laughs.