To be completely honest, Iruka liked pants. He liked to wear them and he liked the way that they looked on him. They were rough on his skin, much like the way his lover was when he was a bit too feisty. They were loose on his hips, like the way his lover was while he was waiting for the water to boil to make udon. They were perfectly fitted, much like the way his lover was for him in the heat of love-making.
To be completely honest, Kakashi hated pants. His lover enjoyed them to the point that their foreplay would last much longer than the actual act of sex, because ripping a seam would mean the end of that enjoyment for the time being so he could mend them. He didn't like the way the zipper would catch on his fingertips and rip small cuts, similar to that of a paper cut. He didn't like how they were loose enough for him to slip his fingers into their hem, but tight enough so that he couldn't slide them off his lover's slim hips.
To be even more honest, Iruka and Kakashi argued over Iruka's choice in pants. Kakashi didn't like how they were so perfect for his lover. Iruka loved how they were so perfect for him. Kakashi hated how they were always in the way. Iruka liked how they would make him slow down and enjoy the moment. Kakashi hated how they hid what was his. Iruka liked how his lover would send smoldering glances at his lower half.
In the end though, to be perfectly honest, Kakashi would always cave at how lovely Iruka's pants looked over his hip bones and curved over his rear. Iruka would always groan in frustration when his pants caught on his knees and he toppled over from lack of balance. And, both Kakashi and Iruka would marvel at how nicely their clothes looked carelessly strewn about the room, especially at how Iruka's pants looked hanging from the ceiling fan.
0000
Standard disclaimers apply.
Written because I have yet to write a yaoi ficlet, and I am a gay man.