Six Months ago...
Iruka stood outside one Hatake Kakashi's apartment. He had come to see the Jounin with a scroll from the Hokage, it wasn't often that Tsunade-sama asked him to deliver personal missives but it did happen every now and again.
He walked quietly along the open walkway, approaching the door marked with a number nine. But as he went to rap his knuckles on the wood, he reconsidered, a smile creeping onto his lips. He turned and looked a little further down the creamy white walls of the apartment block, finding the window that would be attached to the jounin's apartment. He decided to follow by example; Kakashi's habit of not using doors was well renowned. He dampened down his chakra just enough that the Copy-nin wouldn't be suspicious and slunk towards the window.
He hovered with his back to the roughly plastered wall and slowly moved to peak around the corner, something tingling at the nape of his neck and he frowned at the sensation. Whether it was being a shinobi or just an extra sense that he had developed over time, he knew something was wrong when that feeling raised the hair on the nape of his neck. He ducked down low and dared a quick glance through the window, body, most of his face and head hidden by the frame of the window.
What he saw inside seemed completely normal, mundane even. The flat was empty; no sign of Kakashi inside as he had expected. But there was no one to be seen, none of his nin-ken and no intruders either. He raised a hand to carefully run through the hair at his nape and settle it back flat against his neck. Something wasn't right and that's when he felt it, that odd nudge in the back of his mind that he had trained himself to recognise – there was a genjutsu cast here and he had fallen right into it.
Iruka scowled at that knowledge, even as his senses expanded and his hands shifted into the familiar pattern of a genjutsu release jutsu as his back pressed flush to the wall once more. He whispered the release which would let his mind be freed from the illusion placed on the window, not wanting to make whoever was inside aware of his presence by trying to release the genjutsu from its anchoring position.
When he turned to look through the window once more, hand resting on the rough hewn wood of the windows frame he stared in confusion, his eyes widening slightly, lips parting but no sound coming out. He watched in wide eyed surprise as Hatake Kakashi worked away at the counter in his kitchen.
Iruka stood for a few moments, not sure what to make of the man he was watching. The flak vest was absent, as were his gloves, but the jounin was covered in a fine layer of white dust that had settled on his dark uniform shirt.
As Iruka stood fixated, his eyes absorbing the unique sight of Kakashi being so industrious he realised he'd been hearing something all along.
Kakashi was humming.
The chuunin watched as the masked man continued to hum softly, his hitai-ate resting on the counter away from the flour strewn marble top, sleeves rolled up above his elbows whilst his hands worked at the dough under his fingertips.
Iruka couldn't move, this man stood before him didn't bare much resemblance to the dangerous and infamously lazy, porn reading jounin he had come to know. He watched the other man through the window as he rolled out the doughy mixture and carefully placed it inside the lightly greased pie dish beside him.
Iruka watched the seemingly oblivious jounin for a few minutes more, cheeks heating as he heard the lazy cadence of Kakashi's voice as he spoke to the ninken he couldn't see. He had never seen Kakashi this relaxed before, his normally slouched shoulders straight and sure, a smile curling hidden lips, eyes curved happily.
Iruka felt something hot and achy stir deep inside him and he shifted backwards, pressing himself to the wall as he took a few deep breaths. He knew the feeling well, as familiar to him as breathing. He shoved it down hard, letting his mind wander away from the domestic image that Kakashi had created and squeezing the scroll he had forgotten about in his hand.
He looked down at the rolled parchment and shook his head, grin slipping into place. He didn't speak, not wanting to alert Kakashi to his presence and slipped back towards the green front door.
The heat dissipated as he willed his mind away from more interesting and erotic images and he rapped lightly on the door.
When the door opened and Kakashi stood before him, his shoulders familiarly slouched, hands in pockets, Iruka smiled at him.
"This is from the Hokage, Hatake-san." The chuunin held out the scroll which Kakashi accepted.
Iruka watched as Kakashi's long, scared fingers curled around the scroll, lightly brushing his palm as he took it. He restrained a shiver at the warmth he felt brush along sensitive nerves and made a quick note of the lack of flour and wondered absently how the jounin had pulled that off when he had been practically coated in it.
Kakashi acknowledged his presence, head tilting to the side slightly as though questioning, but didn't do anything else once the scroll was in hand.
"Umino-sensei."
The chuunin stood for only a moment taking in the sight of the Copy-nin again. The flak vest was still missing, gloves too but his hitai-ate was carefully knotted behind his head once more covering his most famous asset. Iruka nodded at Kakashi.
"Good afternoon, Hatake-san."
Then he turned to walk away when he heard a familiar lazy drawl from behind him, "Mah, Kakashi."
Iruka turned to look at the other man but he was already turning away.
Iruka smiled at his retreating form, enjoying the sight of long lean muscles moving easily under the fabric of Kakashi's standard issue trousers. As Iruka casually perused the jounin as he moved off inside the flat he caught sight of a smudge of white on the edge of his black shirt and only just managed to hold in his upwelling laughter. He didn't want Kakashi to hear him or give him any reason to think he'd been watching him.
Iruka smiled at Kakashi's back, apparently even the genius Hatake missed spots.
Iruka turned away and went to report back to the Hokage to confirm that he had delivered her missive. The sight of Kakashi covered in flour and humming peacefully filling his mind and bringing a soft smile to his lips.
One week later...
Iruka stepped back into his living room from the steamy confines of the bathroom, the chill of the cooler air raising goose bumps across his exposed skin. He was immediately assaulted by the scent of burning; he pivoted quickly to face the kitchen damp feet squeaking on the wooden floor boards.
Seeing tendril's of dark smoke curling into the living room Iruka cursed softly, striding forward quickly, arriving in the doorway and preparing to go inside only to pause. Iruka's mouth parted in surprise, eyes widening and eyebrows arched in confusion. His loose dark hair dripped coldly onto his neck as a hand came up to cover the fold were his towel was tucked securely around his waist ensuring its continued position there.
For the second time in just over a week Hatake Kakashi had surprised him.
Iruka stood in the smoky air for a few seconds, assessing the jounin that stood in his kitchen, cupboards stood open, the dish that had contained dinner was now in the sink, charcoal bits floating in the water were he could only assume that Kakashi had run the tap. Which implied that there had been flames?
His skin heated and he felt his stomach tighten in knots as he looked at the jounin.
Iruka watched as Kakashi's lone visible eye shut in a crescent shape, indicating that the other man was smiling, or pretending to be.
"Mah, Iruka-sensei why are you eating field rations?"
Iruka's face heated further and a scowl slid across his brow, furrowing the normally unblemished skin. He didn't have to answer that, but then again Kakashi was his superior technically, his mind whirred with various thoughts but what stuck in his thoughts was that Kakashi was in his home and he was practically naked.
Shit!
Iruka turned just enough to hide his left arm from view, not having taken the precaution of covering the tattoo that marked his skin because he had assumed he would be okay in his own home - apparently not.
He turned a dark glare on the jounin, completely unmindful of the rest of his semi-naked state, before growling, "Have you never heard of knocking, Hatake-san!"
"Kakashi, sensei. And not when there's a perfectly functional window available."
Iruka could see the other man was at ease, not the same relaxed posture as he'd caught him in a little over a week ago but he wasn't on high alert. He had once managed to catch a glimpse of the infamous hound when he'd been in ANBU and the man before him didn't really reconcile with the ANBU legend. That thought made Iruka feel oddly more comfortable even though he was, wet, half naked and embarrassed as all hell.
He sighed at Kakashi's response, knowing from the way his eye was still curved upwards that he was enjoying Iruka's predicament far too much. But what struck Iruka was why he was here. He had yet to say, the Copy-nin had no reason to visit a lowly Academy sensei and yet here he stood, a currently rather unwelcome guest.
The chuunin eyed the other man with interest as he spoke, "What can I do for you, Kakashi-san?"
He saw the jounin's shoulders rise and fall in what he knew was a sigh and he could lay a bet that it was because of his insistence that Iruka called him Kakashi -san. He didn't understand why the Kakashi wanted to be so informal but at the moment Iruka was pretty pissed off and embarrassed, being nice was the furthest thing from his thoughts.
"Mah, it doesn't matter."
Iruka could feel the pinch of irritation at his temples and he scowled at the other man whilst speaking in his most crisp and formal tone.
"Clearly it mattered enough for you to come and see me." The chuunin made a point of looking at the window the jounin had likely come in through and arched a brow at the other man when he turned his head back towards him.
They stood for a moment in silence, the quiet giving Iruka a few moments to think even as his irritation with Kakashi simmered in his mind, even as heat whirled in his belly. That was when it dawned on him that Kakashi was still Naruto's team leader. Iruka wondered if something had happened that would cause the jounin to visit him.
He assessed the other man closely, taking note of his semi-relaxed slouch, the smile in his eye. But Iruka was at a bit of a loss as the jounin was very difficult to read, he absently wondered if that was why he wore a mask but shoved it aside quickly.
Naruto.
He needed to know if the over enthusiastic kid, boy well man now was okay. Iruka levelled a steady gaze on his impromptu guest and spoke in a flat voice, "Is Naruto alright, Kakashi-san?"
Iruka noted the way Kakashi's eye widened slightly at his intent gaze, the serious tone of his question likely not one the jounin had heard before. Angry, happy and a variety of other emotion's – but that one in particular was reserved for other things. Iruka watched as that lid dipped down and settled back at half-mast once more, momentary surprise dealt with swiftly and efficiently like any good ninja and member of ANBU.
"He's fine, Iruka."
Iruka felt his shoulders loosen, not having realised they had gone tight with tension when he had thought Kakashi was here to courier bad news about Naruto to him.
Iruka's brows furrowed, confusion returning full force, all thoughts of his state of dress, the burnt food currently residing in his sink and his worry over the blond ball of energy suppressed completely, side-lined by his concern.
"Then why...?"
"Tonight, seven o'clock." And with that the other man was gone in a puff of smoke and whirl of vibrant green leaves that contrasted against the wooden boards polished to a high shine leaving Iruka standing half naked, dripping wet, and completely confused by the other man.
It took him about an hour to decipher the jounin's cryptic message after pacing, dressing and noting that he had less than twenty minutes left before their meeting. His hands came together in the seals for a teleportation jutsu and he appeared for the second time that week on Hatake Kakashi's doorstep.
Six months later...
He smiled, not just a small thing but an all-out grin, teeth bared lips stretched wide. He watched, head tilted back, hands tucked into baggy pants pockets as two ninja dashed across the gap between the buildings he was currently standing between.
They didn't even look down.
The young boy chuckled before turning away, feeling the familiar chakra of his friends bounding away across the rooftops.
His smile softened and his heart warmed as he pivoted on his heel and walked towards the mouth of the alleyway intent on getting were he wanted to be headed, murmuring to himself, "I think they need more training."
He shook his head, ponytail brushing the nape of his neck and tickling the warm tan skin. He reached a hand back to his oversized t-shirt and flicked the strands away, not liking the feeling that much. His chuunin flak vest usually covered the sensitive skin there and he didn't like the tingling sensation his hair caused, especially when it usually signalled trouble or a badly aimed kunai from one of his students.
He stepped out into a bustling market place, the sun warming his skin as he automatically turned his face up to its warmth. He nodded amicably to the old lady that now stood taller than him by a good foot and she smiled in return, a few teeth missing from her warm smile.
The young boy made his way across the market place, heading for a particular stall that held many different confections, all of which he knew his host would enjoy. He greeted the man bedecked in a red and white striped apron with familiarity and made a note of the gleam of amusement in his gaze.
The proprietor chuckled in a deep rich bass as Iruka requested his choices from the variety of pastries and sponges on offer.
"So they haven't figured it out yet, Iruka-sensei?"
The chuunin smiled in response before replying, "You know Tanaka-san, you should have been a shinobi. You're doing far better than a pair of chuunin and jounin."
That brought a wider grin to the other man's lips, his moustache curling and moving like a caterpillar when he spoke, "With all the will in the world, I wouldn't want to do your job Sensei. I am a baker through and through."
Iruka smiled in response, not taking any offense at the man's words, some people just weren't cut out for a shinobi's life and he was glad of that, nobody else made cakes like Tanaka-san.
The older man leant across the counter and offered the chuunin a plain white box, tied shut with a red ribbon, money exchanged hands and Iruka accepted the proffered box of treats and waved over his shoulder as he walked off. The rest of the civilian's around him not paying any attention to a young gennin student, dressed in black combats and a baggy blue t-shirt, pouches strapped around his thigh and hanging from his belt.
He shook his head as he thought about Izumo and Kotetsu chasing off across the roof-tops in hot pursuit of one of his clones. The two chuunin really did need some extra training if it was that easy to lead them off on a wild goose chase. At least Genma and Raidou had fared better. But the two sets of shinobi hadn't caught up with him yet and he would make sure they didn't.
He turned and headed in the direction of his destination, the place the two chuunin had been trying to discover, along with their jounin counterparts for the best part of six months. Every time they caught on to Iruka's latest trap or disguise he changed it, leading them on a merry chase all over again. He didn't think they had realised, and he hoped that they never did, that they were trying to win a losing battle.
Iruka may just be a lowly chuunin Academy instructor but he hadn't always been and few people knew about that. His free hand lifted and rubbed absently under the hem of his left t-shirt sleeve, the pattern of ink on his skin a slightly smoother texture than the surrounding skin.
He shook the thought away, mind focusing on more interesting and happier thoughts. His stomach growled in response and a warm smile curled his lips – food was always a nice thought and where he was headed today always boded to provide a wonderful meal.
He thought back for a moment, even as his body remained aware and alert for the two chuunin that never gave up on their search for answers or the key to winning a six month standing bet.
Iruka liked to remember how these odd circumstances had come about because in some ways, he really didn't believe it. And then, every Tuesday like clock-work, unless there was a mission to attend, he was headed out towards the residential area, a block of flats for single shinobi and a dark green door with the number nine wonkily affixed to it his final destination.
He enjoyed the merry chase he led his friends on, but sometimes wished he could just continue on his way peacefully. He knew once they had discovered whatever they thought needed discovering a new bet would be formed. But Iruka didn't want them to find out, not yet.
He wasn't ready yet.
These quiet evenings spent in the company of one quirky ninja and his pack were a guilty pleasure that Iruka loved. It was something steady in a world that was ever changing. It was something that Iruka treasured, because it was his secret to keep, something private and special that they shared together.
Iruka's cheeks took on a hint of red and heat flooded his body, but he pushed it aside, it wasn't time yet. But soon – maybe - he would have to see.
He shook off those thoughts and dashed up the three flights of steps leading to Kakashi's apartment. He rapped on a now familiar green door, the nine now straight after he'd taken a screw driver to the small brass screws and ensured himself that he had put it back straight.
Iruka remembered seeing the jounin chuckle at his work.
"Mah, sensei ever the perfectionist."
He remembered heat and warmth pooling inside him and lingering on his cheeks at Kakashi's words but he'd smiled and shrugged in response.
The door opened to reveal the infamous Copy-nin, but most would be surprised at his current attire. Iruka had managed to persuade the other man that cooking in his uniforms didn't do them any good and that he should have some kind of civilian clothing in his apartment. The chuunin's winning argument… "You never know when you might need them Kakashi-san. A ninja is always prepared, ne?"
He couldn't have helped the warm grin that tipped his lips up at the corners when the jounin had nodded, eye rolling in defeat. He'd even acquiesced into letting Iruka take him shopping.
That same grin curled Iruka's lips now as he looked up at the tall man. His eyes taking in the simple low slung navy denim clad leg's and the cream coloured shirt that had a few button's loose at the top that exposed a pale expanse of flesh to his hungry gaze. Add to that the surgical mask and Iruka could happily run his eyes up the pale column of Kakashi's exposed throat.
Kakashi looked damn good in civilian clothes.
Iruka could smell the rich scent of something cooking as soon as the door had opened and he felt his stomach rumble, his cheeks flushing as he put his hand over the offending area. Iruka didn't speak though, feeling oddly vulnerable at the sudden difference in height and weight, instead he stood quietly, cheeks hot waiting for Kakashi to speak. He watched as a lone grey orb studied him for a few moments.
"Iruka, you look like one of your brat's."
Iruka nodded, lips parting, baring teeth in a fierce grin, the heat in his cheeks dissipating quickly.
"Izumo and Kotetsu decided it would be fun to play tag today. And guess who was it?"
Kakashi chuckled and nodded in understanding, stepping back to allow Iruka to enter, "They're not planning on giving in."
"Not ever. You should know how obsessive jounin and some chuunin can get. One of the quirk's of being a high ranked ninja and being obsessed with betting. If Genma didn't have a bet to run then he wouldn't know what to do with himself. Trying to figure out where I've been going every Tuesday is only the latest in a long string. He'll catch hell for it eventually."
Iruka heard Kakashi sigh and saw how his shoulders sagged as the door clicked shut and as soon as it did Iruka released the jutsu, regaining height and muscle mass that he'd missed whilst under the jutsu. He rolled his shoulders and quickly lifted his hand to unzip the chuunin flak vest, shrugging it off his shoulders and feeling its considerable weight caught in deft hands.
"Thank you, Kakashi."
"Mah, not a problem Iruka."
Iruka stepped out of his sandals, as the jounin manoeuvred around and passed him, heading off towards the kitchen. Iruka followed quietly behind him, going through the open plan lounge and heading for the kitchen area.
He settled himself in a familiar position at the table and rested his chin on his upturned hand comfortably. He watched with rapt attention as Kakashi moved around the kitchenette, watching muscles shift and bunch under his clothes with a contented sigh.
The man was a joy to watch, especially here in his element. Iruka had quickly found out the Kakashi had known he was there that day, that he'd broken the genjutsu placed on the window. But for some unknown reason the jounin hadn't been angry, instead he'd set out to cook a meal for the chuunin.
When asked Kakashi had said something about Iruka's cupboards being barren of any kind of nutrition and apparently his cooking skills being sub-par. Iruka had blushed and fumed at the other man, before admitting defeat. He had managed to burn field-ration's after all.
Iruka hadn't realised just how much the jounin enjoyed cooking until he'd sat in this kitchen for the first time, admiring the lazy, relaxed man as he'd made tea, then got down to the business of making a traditional Japanese meal of grilled fish, rice and miso soup. After only one taste Iruka was hooked, every bite a mouth-watering bonanza of flavours. He couldn't remember the last time he'd tasted anything so good.
Kakashi placed a steaming cup of jasmine tea in front of Iruka and the chuunin smiled up at him gratefully, wrapping his hands around the ceramic and feeling the heat seep through to his fingers as he took a long fragrant inhale.
"Ahhh, just what I needed. Thank you, Kakashi."
"Welcome."
Kakashi turned away and Iruka watched for the next twenty minutes in silence as the jounin prepared their meal.
Iruka loved to watch this man in his kitchen. As odd as it seemed, Kakashi reminded him of his mother. It was in the way he commandeered the space, making it his own. The kitchen had been his Mother's domain; she had known where everything was and how everything should be done. Iruka watched Kakashi with no small degree of admiration even though his chest ached at the memory of the family he'd lost.
When it looked like Kakashi was heading towards completing his task Iruka rose, tea long finished and went to collect the mats and chopsticks for the table.
"Kotatsu."
Iruka looked back over his shoulder at the other man eye-brow raised in question, "It's not that cold, Kakashi."
"Hai, Sensei but it is nice to sit by the fire sometimes."
Iruka repressed a shiver at Kakashi's use of his teaching title, there was something in the way he said it. It rolled off his tongue like molten chocolate and Iruka couldn't help but feel it make his skin prickle with sensual awareness.
He refrained from visibly reacting; not wanting to give away his affinity for the way Kakashi called him sensei. Iruka watched the other man for a few minutes, knowing he wouldn't be able to figure out what he was up to. He let it slide for now and made his way into the lounge.
He placed the coarse straw woven mat's down on the table then the chopsticks in their appropriate places, before returning to the kitchen to collect some napkins. He caught sight of Kakashi bent over, the denim of his jeans hugging the smooth, taut curves of his ass and Iruka choked softly, bringing Kakashi's head up to look at him with concern tipping the corner of his eye.
"Are you alright, Iruka?"
Iruka flushed red and brought a hand to his mouth, feigning a cough, "Just a slight tickle Kakashi. It's nothing to be concerned over."
He saw the focused gaze and knew he'd not convinced Kakashi.
"Everything's done. Go and sit down."
"Alright."
Iruka grabbed the napkins off of the counter and disappeared into the living room feeling his arousal pressing hard against the seam of his jeans. He cursed softly under his breath and settled himself under the kotatsu so he could hide his straining need. Why did the man have to be so goddamn tempting!
Iruka took a few deep, calming breaths, hoping to try and control the heat in his cheeks and the need in his trousers. The other man slipped into the lounge on silent feet, carrying a dish in his oven gloved hands. He settled it on the mat at the centre of the low table and lifted the lid, a billow of steam blooming up before a rich, lightly spiced scent filled the air.
Iruka moaned softly at the delicious smell and flushed as he caught the surprised look Kakashi gave him.
"Sorry, it just smell's so good."
Iruka watched as the other man put himself back together quickly, a smile curving his eye as he turned to retrieve something else from the kitchen.
"I'm glad you like it."
Iruka thought he was seeing things when, just as Kakashi reached the kitchen, he subtly adjusted himself in his jeans. It brought that now familiar heat roaring to life in Iruka's veins, his cock hard and pressing uncomfortably against his zipper.
He didn't have time to do any adjusting of his own however as Kakashi was back and Iruka didn't dare look any lower than was appropriate with the other man now facing him.
"Dig in, sensei."
Iruka risked a glance up at the still standing male and bit the inside of his cheek at the sight that greeted him and the unintentional innuendo in Kakashi's words. Iruka could see the bulge of Kakashi's cock inside the denim and it made his mouth water hungrily. He looked up past his waist to see the other man looking down at him with interest.
Iruka spoke quietly; his voice a little rougher than he'd wanted it to be, "It's rude to start without your host, Kakashi."
Iruka swore he could see a tint of red under Kakashi's surgical mask that hid the jounin's face from view but didn't read too much into it. Though this had been going on over their last few meetings he wouldn't make the first move. As much as he wanted Kakashi and as many signs that he had been given he wasn't sure if he had read Kakashi correctly. He may be ex-ANBU but the Copy-nin was in a class of his own – boy genius and all.
Thinking about that Iruka looked up at Kakashi once more, hands relaxing flat on the table as Kakashi placed the dish beside the beef stew he'd set down before. Iruka puzzled for a moment when a thought occurred to him. In all this time he'd never managed to figure out what Kakashi had come to see him about when all this had started. Every time he thought of asking something happened and he was distracted all over again.
Iruka could safely assume that whatever it was had been sorted in some fashion, to wait this long for an answer was a little much, even for the eternally late Hatake.
"Kakashi, I keep forgetting to ask, but you came to see me and then you never told me what you wanted. I never really got the chance to ask though." Iruka scratched at the scar on his nose absently as he spoke, "It's probably a little too late now."
"Mah, Iruka it wasn't anything important."
Iruka chuckled, "It must have been something important Kakashi, why else would you come and see me? What was it you needed?" The chuunin's gaze fixed on the man opposite him, trying to read the masked man, "You didn't have a reason that I could figure out. Naruto and your team were fine so…." He let his sentence trail off, watching as deft fingers, covered in the tiny scars that all shinobi had, took the top off the other dish.
"Traps, sensei."
"Traps?"
Iruka turned a genuinely puzzled look on the other man, for a moment forgetting to keep his eyes averted so Kakashi could take the opportunity to eat. He looked back down swiftly, not glimpsing anything but a blur of pale skin. He was mildly disappointed, but hopefully in time that would change. "Sorry."
"It's fine Iruka. As to your confusion... I have been trying to perfect something and needed, shall we say - an expert on traps."
Iruka didn't look up but caught the movement of Kakashi's hand, moving elegantly as it willed under his cat like gaze. When it pressed gently against Iruka's cloth covered arm, rubbing the fabric softly, Iruka shivered. He realised just what Kakashi was getting at.
He knew. It made Iruka happy for some reason, to know that the jounin knew his secret. That he had found the time to look.
Iruka closed his eyes before lifting his head to smile at Kakashi, careful to keep his eyes firmly shut.
"Ahhh… do you still need help with that?" Iruka looked back down, eyes opening to rest on the hand that still hadn't withdrawn, and the warmth of it as it curled around his bicep.
"Hai, sensei."
Iruka wanted to reach his own hand out to brush across the milky white skin of Kakashi's, just to see the contrast between it and his own mocha coloured flesh. He sighed and reined in the urge, responding to Kakashi, "After dinner?
"After."
Iruka nodded his assent and returned his attention to his meal. The jounin had served the initial portions and encouraged Iruka to help himself afterwards. Iruka couldn't help humming in approval as the rich taste of the stew caressed his taste buds, offset by the plain rice.
"You're far too good a cook, Kakashi."
"Hmmm…"
Iruka looked up far enough to see Kakashi's chest and the plate that still sat piled with food, making a note that Kakashi's food had barely been touched, even though Iruka had purposefully kept his gaze down. "Something wrong, Kakashi?"
"No, sensei."
Iruka's brow's furrowed as his own hands stilled, chopsticks hovering over the plate that was almost cleared of food, "Then why…?"
"It's nice."
Iruka could hear something warm and pleased in Kakashi's voice, and he really wanted to look up in that moment to see the look that would accompany such a rare expression from the Copy-nin.
Instead he kept his gaze down and asked, "What is?"
"Watching someone else enjoy the food I cook."
Iruka felt his cheeks flush with warmth, "What about the nin-ken? Pakkun always says they love your food. Speaking of them, where are they?"
"It's different with them, sensei."
Iruka suppressed a shiver, though his cock twitched with interest under the cover of the kotatsu's blankets.
"And they are elsewhere, spending time with family."
Iruka chuckled softly in his embarrassment, feeling heat in his cheeks as his hands came to rest on the edge of the table, "Ahhh, I forget sometimes that they don't stay here with you all the time."
"Mah, its fine Iruka. Finish your meal."
Iruka smiled softly at Kakashi, even though he never lifted his gaze from the pale skin exposed by the V of Kakashi's shirt, "Hai Kakashi, thank you for sharing your meal with me."
"Think nothing of it."
The air was filled with soft slurps, murmurs of appreciation and the crackle of the fire as they continued their meal in a familiar and comfortable silence.
When they had finished Iruka watched as Kakashi settled his back against the sofa, before getting up to clear away the dishes. This was another tradition they had developed, one cooked the other cleaned. Iruka chuckled softly at that, smiling happily over how they behaved almost like a married couple on the nights they shared, he liked the feeling.
Once the table was cleared he settled beside Kakashi, not too close but near enough to put his legs back under the kotatsu. He let the warmth and comfort of the room swirl around him, body warm, stomach full, the scent of dog, burning wood and fragrant spices in the air. He felt his head go heavy, eyelids drooping.
He roused when he felt a hand press to his cheek, pulling him closer, "Silly, sensei. You leave yourself vulnerable."
Iruka's heavy lids fluttered open, glimpsing the pale cream fabric that was now pressed to his cheek as Kakashi's warmth seeped through the cotton. He nuzzled the fabric softly, before looking up from under heavy lids at the jounin.
"Kakashi."
He closed his eyes, hand reaching up and carefully unhooking the corner of his mask, lips pressing a soft, chaste kiss to warm skin.
"Iruka?"
"Mhhhh…" Iruka felt warmth press to his own lips then and he parted them eagerly at the soft swipe of a hot, moist tongue. The kiss was lazy, warm and sinfully sensual as lips brushed, tongues explored and moans filtered between them.
Iruka made sure to keep his eyes shut even when he and Kakashi parted. He felt hot gusts of air caress his face as they both panted softly.
Iruka murmured huskily, "You taste good."
Kakashi chuckled and the sound stoked the heat in Iruka's belly. "Better than my cooking, sensei?"
"Hai."
"So, would you like dessert?"
"Mmmmhhhmmm."
Iruka reached a hand up, fingers twining into soft, silvery spikes and gently pulling the other man back down to his lips with a soft sigh of need.