Yay for editing! No more trans fats, and 75 percent less suckage!
SMOKE
The cold night air bit at Iruka's skin, making him edge closer to the small fire. There was no wind, but the cold was fierce. He watched sleepily as wisps of smoke drifted heavenward, up to a clear navy sky littered with stars. The moon wasn't out tonight. Sighing, the chuunin took a nearby stick and poked at the fire, watching as the embers glowed and more grey-white smoke surged up.
His scarred face formed a weary smile. He would reach Konoha by tomorrow evening, and see Kakashi again. Silly as it was, Kakashi had always reminded Iruka of smoke- even before they'd gotten together. In his dreams, Kakashi's embrace had clouded his awareness until he could sense nothing else.
Nothing but his scent.
Nothing but the smell of pine needles and musk. Nothing but the hypnotizing thrum of his heartbeat, and a thousand whispered words that sent shivers down his spine. Nothing but pale expanses of his skin, and the softness of silver hair under his fingertips. Oh, and nothing, nothing but the taste of him, stunning him, making it hard for him to breathe.
More than anything, though, it was those two mismatched eyes, one an icy blue and the other the signature scarlet of the Sharingan.
When those eyes locked with his, Iruka really couldn't breathe. Hard as he had tried to resist, in his dreams, at least, the jounin had drifted effortlessly past all of Iruka's defenses.
Of course, the teacher no longer resisted (most of the time). Now he did the opposite, and reveled in the moments when Kakashi obscured the rest of the world in a haze of pleasure and warmth, erasing everything but the two of them. His small smile grew into a grin, and Iruka put more wood onto the blaze, watching as tendrils of smoke disappeared into the chilly night air.
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