Characters: Yamato (Tenzou), Kakashi. Kakashi/Yamato.
Rating: PG.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Tenzou doesn't want to be there, but he goes along anyway.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Lean
"You eighteen, kid?"
Tenzou frowned, shook his head tersely, and carefully dislodged the sweaty hand that had made itself all-too-friendly upon his elbow. Tenzou had a no-speaking policy for the moment, both because it made him seem more intimidating and because getting into a conversation with these people was the last thing on his to-do list. The vendor retreated back to his booth like a slimy eel with a smarmy grin and crooked teeth, getting ready to pounce on the next poor idiot that allowed himself get too close to his enclosure. Not worth my time, the man's actions said.
Tenzou gladly went on his way.
He was looking for something. Or rather, for someone. Someone annoyingly easy to spot in a crowd, yet possessed the uncanny ability to blend right in when he wished to do just so. It was a downright frustrating talent, Tenzou decided. Especially because he was wandering around aimlessly in a place he didn't want to be. And wandering around without a point always rubbed him the wrong way.
How he had ever let himself be convinced to come was something even he didn't quite comprehend. One moment he was paying for a tab that wasn't even his and then he was being dragged along to--to this venue. For one thing, this was not his scene at all: rows and rows of booths that contained trite pornographic material for sale, to be more specific. It was the first time he had ever been to such an abomination of a gathering and, as he scanned the surrounding crowd, it would most certainly be his last.
He was pretty certain his reputation was being compromised every second he let himself make a round inside the building, but his honor code—you know, the one that somehow managed to ensnare him into this situation—didn't allow enough wiggle room for him to leave.
Someone sighed wistfully behind him. "If only I could make you mine…"
It was Kakashi.
Tenzou flushed and whipped around. "What?"
"Limited edition Icha Icha. Signed too," said Kakashi sadly, waving a little orange book in his hand. Two women were intertwined on the cover, as if about to kiss. "A little too pricey for me, though."
"Oh. Because I thought... oh, that's good then," Tenzou stammered out. His heart was pounding--from the embarrassment that never came, possibly.
"You didn't think I was talking about you, did you?" said Kakashi lightly, placing the book back on the rack. His tone was completely oblivious while his hard stare spoke that he knew exactly why Tenzou was fidgeting.
"No, of course not," said Tenzou. Recovering his pride and ego as it was being lovingly stomped on by Kakashi was always a hassle, but he managed it. "I'm not that..."Desperate.
"Right, right," Kakashi said, touching his fist to his chin. "I mean, you do amble around as if you have a 'property of Kakashi' stamped on your--"
"You assume a lot," Tenzou grounded out. "I have no such thing, sempai."
Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "Ah. If that's true, then can I safely say that you're really here on your own accord?"
"What? No! I don't read... bodice-rippers." His last word came out as a hissed whisper.
Kakashi leaned towards him. "Not even in private?" He was being deliberately facetious and annoying.
"Don't be daft, Hatake."
Kakashi just smiled; his mask was still on, but Tenzou knew that look. "Then I think we can get started on those tattoo designs..."
