1.
You're sitting at a bar, hands folded in front of you on the unwashed tabletop, and Jiraya only watches you through older eyes, and you don't let it slip that you'd rather not have him tracing all the lines in your face that aren't from laughing and smiling, like on Naruto or the younger kids at the academy, but from the hardships you can't remember and the hardships you can't forget.
It's uncomfortable enough as it is.
He's lounging in his seat, hands leisurely behind his head, one eye slipping shut as he stares at you bizarrely with the other one, and you feel like maybe that's how you'd look when you got older; hair whiter, one eye open with something glimmering in it, but looking like Jiraya isn't something you find very appealing, so you decide on letting that train of thought go.
He's still looking.
Shifting in your seat, you adjust your feet on the floor, the tips of your shoes against the wood, and you decide that speaking is mandatory.
"I thought you said this was important?"
The eye opens.
"It is," he grins, leaning forward to take a sip of his beer, "Thought we'd do some father-son bonding."
You raise an eyebrow.
"You must be older than I thought if you're senile enough to imagine we're related."
His demeanor doesn't change; the grin is plastered on like before, and he looks at you with eyes that shine with experience.
"Blood isn't everything, Kakashi."
You still.
Blood is all there is.
2.
"Jiraya," you sigh, hands rubbing at your temples, "What is this about? I just woke up, for Christ's sake."
Grin.
Don't chidori him, don't chidori him, don't chidori him.
"We're going fishing, kid," he smirks, and you ignore the blatant insult to your age in favor of giving him an incredulous look.
"You came to my apartment at seven a.m. to drag me out to fish?"
He crosses his arms, dimples in his cheeks, and you sigh, and head for the dresser.
"Give me five minutes."
He's always been the one to win.
3.
Fishing is a thing you can pass off as purely friendly, but taking you cloud-watching is more reminiscent of a lover or Shikamaru, so you stubbornly decline until his hand grabs your arm and you're already on your way to a spot on the field.
"This is ridiculous."
He has the very nerve to ignore you.
"Why cloud-watching? That's not something friends do. That's something lovers do."
Jiraya looks at you, mouth for once dropped open in surprise, and if he weren't such a womanizer you'd mistake it for surprise at being caught trying to butter you up.
He keeps pulling on your arm, though.
"Well," he starts, brows furrowed, "I figured we'd do some talking. While watching clouds. The cloud part was entirely impulsive; blame it on being around Shikamaru. Besides, I figured we hadn't done enough father-son bonding."
"You're not my father."
He smirks, clearly not offended, and ruffles your hair roughly with kunai-scarred hands, and you smother the smile threatening to break out behind the mask.
You're not my father.
But you're the best I've got.
Fin.
My original idea was to have all these three parts cut up into: Father, Friend, and then Lover, but it wouldn't look as neat and I figured it didn't matter all that much.
Anyway, the inspiration came during an exam I had in which the theme was "Relationships," and my mind immediately popped to this one. I'm fairly sure it can come off either as pure friendship, father/son or a romantic story, but please keep in mind that the idea is father/son.
I hope you enjoyed the read, and if you did, I wouldn't mind you dropping a review.