Author Note: Hey first Fanfic here. This is the start of a collection of fics that will have Naruto characters in a FF7-ish AU. Some might be related some might not be. Some may have something to do with the other's plot, most probably won't. Anyway enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or FF7.
WARNING: *YAOI* If you don't like, DON'T READ.
He was gorgeous. There was no denying that. With long brown hair that reached broad toned shoulders, big doe eyes the color of fallen chestnuts, and a smile as warm as cinnamon – the man was extremely beautiful. Day after day the golden heart-throb would enter the small cozy café, looking for a vanilla latte to enjoy after a tiring day of work. His nimble fingers would wrap around the cup and lift it to plump but somehow still masculine lips – lips that easily promised pleasure within their depths. The man was truly beautiful.
Though, above all else, it was the silent mischief that the innocent teacher subtly hid that made him truly magnificent. Just looking at the other no one would know of this but if you studied him, one could easily tell. It was the subtle way he licked his lips after a drink. It was the unnecessary tilt of his head as he swallowed. The small teasing encouraged one to worship the column of his slender throat, fantasizing about the pleasure that it would bring.
The teacher wanted others to watch him and watch Kakashi did. Every day the other came to this café. He never ordered anything. He simply just eyed the man, taking in every little detail. It was him that admired the brown locks as he watched them cascade down the other's neck, wanting nothing more than to run his fingers through it. It was him that appreciated the way the other's Adam's apple bobbed as he drank from his coffee, imagining the other drinking his essence instead. It was always him that watched, but he never spoke. The thought to do so never crossed his mind. He knew that if he were to approach the man then the spell between them would dissipate. Kakashi was one to choke on his words, beating his chest until they erupted from his mouth in a collection of stumbles and wasted sounds. This, however, he could not let go, he could not mess up. So Kakashi continued to be silent, the only proof of his enjoyment being his constant appearance. As if the other could read his inner thoughts, he continued his daily shows.
There was an understanding between them as they both admired each other from afar, both wanting nothing more than to be closer. The understanding being that they could not grant themselves that wish for closeness. They both feared that reality would be harsher than the gentle touch of dreams. Both decided that the cold feeling of empty sheets was worth the warm reassurance of occupied minds. Things didn't hurt one in their fantasies and that avoidance of pain was what made them alike and what made this work. They were safe as they watched each other from a mere table away. So close that if they both were to get up and move to the unoccupied table between them they would be face to face. However that table stayed empty, neither brave enough to fill it.
It was on the day that the brown teacher showed up before his audience that he realized the importance of the other. His heart overflowed with worry and concern as his mind thought of various scenarios, all bloody and none good. He never failed to notice the uniform the other wore. It was what he admired the most and what caught his attention in the first place. The way the black sweater fitted itself to the other's well-formed chest, contrasting greatly with the pale skin underneath. The way the matching cargo pants hung loosely around slim hips when the man chose to stand. He noticed it all. He also saw the sharp katana that sat gently next to the man's chair, the swirling tattoo on the man's left arm and the deep scar that ran over the man's eye that he kept hidden away behind hair the color of starlight. He saw and being the man he was, he quickly put it all together: this man was a SOLDIER. No, he was a SOLDIER First Class, one that's seen a lot of combat and lived. That alone was amazing and the strength that the man possessed was what drew him in the most. He wanted to know what type of man it took to accomplish that feat and wondered if could he love that type of man. His wondering didn't matter anymore, though. The silver one was gone. The realization hurt more than the other thought it would.
It hurt because the teacher never got the chance, and he will always wonder what would have happened if he did. What would have happened if he sat at the table between them? Would the other have joined him? Would he have gotten a name, some way to contact him? Would the man want to be more than an audience? Weren't they supposed to be too afraid to ask? Two weeks the teacher returned to the café and for two weeks the chair the SOLDIER always occupied was empty. Hope started to dwindle and the brown man started to miss days as well.
One day, though, the SOLDIER did return. His pale arms now held new scars and he rubbed at his left shoulder more often, but he was there. The teacher's eyes lit up upon seeing him and he wanted nothing more than to move to him and wrap him in a hug, touching him, holding him, making sure he was still alive. He didn't. He knew better than to do so. What they shared was precious but precarious. One touch, one step beyond their barriers could lead to pain, and pain was something neither of them wanted.
So the teacher continued to watch. It was strange. It was the teacher that was the audience this time. He watched as the other raised a muscled arm to catch the attention of a waitress nearby. He watched as thin pink lips moved to release a velvet baritone as it asked for a coffee and a vanilla latte for a friend. The waitress smiled as she took his order, blushing as he smiled in return. His chiseled features were made for smiling and surprisingly the silver SOLDIER had dimples. The teacher smiled at the thought and silently wondered if they were a feature from his childhood when his cheeks were rounder and softer. There was so much the teacher wondered about the other. What was his favorite color? What was his favorite food? Did he even like coffee? Why did he join SOLDIER? Did he like it there? What was his childhood like? Would he like to meet up somewhere? How did Wutain food sound? There was a new restaurant that opened not far from here, would he like to go? It didn't matter though. He would never get the chance to ask.
Movement from the SOLDIER caught the brown one's eye and he returned to his silent watching. The man's two orders finally came and he watched as the pink lips he admired earlier puckered to blow his coffee before taking a sip. The teacher thought of those lips traveling his body and the baritone from earlier making his spine tremble. He thought of removing that SOLDIER armor to reveal soft pale skin, kissing each and every scar that covered his body and thanking him thoroughly for his service. He wanted the man, and the brown man wonder if this is what his did to the other.
The teacher was snapped out of his wandering thoughts, though, when pale fingers covered in plated gloves place a vanilla latte in front of him. He turned and saw the other sitting at the usually unoccupied table, a smile that lit up his face gracing his features. He waved to the chair in front on him in an over exaggerated gesture, silently asking the teacher to join him.
The SOLDIER watched as the teacher looked at the latte in front of him with a raised eyebrow. It seemed as if he was little afraid to touch it and honestly the SOLDIER was nervous as well. What if this wasn't what the other wanted? What if this small crossing of boundaries was what broke their relationship? He didn't know what the other was thinking, but he knew one thing. It was worth the try. He nearly died on his latest mission and the only thing that was running through his barely conscious mind was what if he didn't see that teacher again. He was going to die without at least telling the man how he felt. That was when he realized that what he felt for this person was more than just lust. He was gorgeous, that was a given, but just by watching him he could tell that he was so much more.
The SOLDIER always watched. He watched as the other's students would come bursting into the café during his off time begging for his help, which he willingly gave. He watched as his fellow teachers asked for his advice. He watched as he sat with friends and planned for his latest prank against their boss. He watched as the man flipped through the pages of some of the SOLDIER's favorite books. He watched as he graded mountains of paperwork with silent diligence and he watched as he listened to his teenage students' teenage problems with unmatched patience and sincere concern. The SOLDIER watched... and the more he watched, the more he fell in love with the other. He couldn't let this go and even if this ended in disaster, he had to try. So the silver-headed man waited patiently as the teacher stared from the cup to the man, clear uncertainty and fear showing in big doe brown eyes.
What did this mean? The teacher saw the other waiting patiently for him to sit and share a coffee with him. The golden man never thought in a million years that sharing a table with someone would be such a hard decision to make, but he knew what sitting at that table meant. It meant no more security, but it also meant no more emptiness. His mind had become quite acquainted with the silver SOLDIER but if he were to move, then he heart can become acquainted as well. Then the teacher realized that he made up his mind weeks ago.
He made up his mind when he saw the SOLDIER comfort a rookie after his first mission. He made up his mind when he saw the other share a laugh with a few of his friends, when he brought his apprentice here and encouraged him to chase his wild dreams. He knew he would sit at that table when he first saw the man. The teacher watched a blue eye follow him as he moved from his seat to sit in front of the man with hair the color of starlight, and he never felt more at home. The teacher sipped from his coffee, silently swooning when the SOLDIER across from him licked his lips as his eyes followed the action. He's never been more attracted to another person in his life.
The SOLDIER smiled again, dimples showing as he finally did something that he dreamed of for months now. "Hi," he said as he practiced many times before, "I'm Kakashi Hatake, SOLDIER First Class."
The teacher laughed at the man's formality but responded anyway, "I'm Iruka Umino, it nice to finally meet you, Kakashi Hatake."
Kakashi watched as the lips he wanted for so long spoke his name at last, "It's nice to meet you as well, Mr. Umino."
"Mr. Umino," Iruka laughed, "Iruka is just fine."
"Then call me Kakashi."
"I was planning to." Kakashi raised an eyebrow at the brashness, but didn't say anything more. Then Iruka moved closer to the table, their knees touching and his hand resting on top of metal plates. "There's something else I've planned for a long time as well, Kakashi."
Kakashi watched as the man – no Iruka – leaned across the table. The hand that was once on his now caressed his cheek and the lips he dreamed about were inches from his own and for the first time in months, Kakashi stopped watching. As his eyes slipped closed and their lips touch Kakashi started living.
Author Note: If you liked it please review. Oh and if you have grammar complaints or something like that can you point them out. I want to improve and that would really help out. Anyway thanks for reading.