A/N: I originally wrote this as an angsty one-shot but a muse gave me an idea that it could be developed further and I've now worked out where the story is going. I want to let you know that it will be very slightly AU in that the plot will deviate from recentish developments in the Narutoverse and hence there will be a few inconsistencies with canon. It's my first multi-chaptered work, so I really hope that it works out!
Unbeta'd so apologies for any mistakes/typos – they're not mine, they'll almost certainly be the cat walking on the keyboard. ^_^
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, commented, 'favourited' or 'story alerted' the first chapter on FF and LJ. It was appreciated and proved to be very encouraging.
Disclaimer: I didn't invent Naruto.
Chapter 2
It had been three long months since Kakashi had left for his final mission. War had not come to Konoha and the Copy-nin had clearly succeeded in the task he had been instructed to carry out. It was not surprising. He had never failed to complete a mission in his entire shinobi career. A genin aged five, chuunin at six, jounin at thirteen, an ANBU captain and teacher to the next generation of ninja, his entire life had been dedicated to protecting Konoha.
And finally he had died for his village.
Iruka was still feeling the pain. Tsunade had made a point of visiting him to tell him about why she had sent Kakashi on that mission and how necessary it had been for the safety of the entire country. Never usually one to bare her soul, she told of how it had been the hardest decision she had ever had to make. There were not many people in Konoha that she could genuinely trust and Kakashi had been one of those few who, having been trained by a disciple of a sannin, understood the values of the Hokages who had gone before and was truly dedicated to the village. He had never shown any interest in its politics nor desired any form of power, other than showing unwavering loyalty to his comrades and to the village. Kakashi had been a true hero and she deeply regretted that events had resulted in his loss. She also explained that she had had to send hunter nin to recover and dispose of his body – the Sharingan was far too valuable to fall into an enemy's hands. She had been impressed by Iruka's stoicism but she could see beyond the barely disguised grief that lay beneath his sad smile. For his part, Iruka could see that something was clearly troubling the Hokage and somehow felt that it was something more than the loss of her best jounin.
There had been a memorial service and Iruka was touched at how many shinobi turned up both to remember Kakashi and to offer their sympathies to him. He was particularly moved to see how many of his former pupils had come to support him. Naruto and Sakura stood by his side as Tsunade made a speech about an illustrious career. Everyone paid their respects to Sharingan Kakashi. At the wake, both members of the former Team Seven recalled how Kakashi had recognised their individual talents and pushed them to develop their skills. They reflected sadly on how Kakashi had tried his damndest to reach out to Sasuke, whereabouts currently unknown. They fondly remembered Kakashi training them: the first bell test where he had outwitted them all and terrified them in the process, then the second test when Naruto and Sakura had turned the tables onto him with their Icha Icha spoiler tactics. Most of all, they remembered how he had sworn to protect them. Always.
And then there was the memorial stone. The words 'Hatake Kakashi' finally carved upon it, joining the names of the shinobi lives that had gone before. Kakashi had spent so many hours at that stone, constantly castigating himself over Obito's death, chiding himself for having been such a fool when he was younger. During his years with Iruka he had learned not to be so hard on himself; Iruka had taught him that it was possible to be happy and to respect the past without needing to change it. They had continued to visit the memorial but they visited together, Iruka to honour his parents and Kakashi to pay his respects to Obito, and it became a place for celebrating their lost friends and relatives, not yearning for a past that could never be returned.
Iruka carried on. He threw himself into his teaching work and took on extra stints in the missions' room. He found that keeping himself busy stopped him from having to think. His friends had all willingly complied with Kakashi's request to support him and had rallied round to make sure they were there for him. He had struck up a particular friendship with Kurenai who, having lost Asuma, could relate to his anguish and truly understood him when it came to him expressing his feelings. She knew that, above all else, being there simply to listen helped dampen the pain. Naruto too, whenever he was in Konoha, made a point of finding his former sensei and taking him out for ramen. He had been genuinely delighted that both his teachers had fallen in love with each other and it was taking him a long time to get over the news of Kakashi's death.
Nighttime was the worst time. It was then that Iruka was left alone with only his thoughts and memories. He had taken to spending time at Kakashi's apartment and sleeping in his bed. He hadn't changed the bedding, he needed to be able to smell the lingering remains of Kakashi's scent. It drove him crazy, but it was all he had left. He snuggled up with Kakashi's clothes and lay there, thinking about their time together. But it felt so cold. Always cold without the comfort of his lover's warm body beside him. If sleep came at all it was troubled, with dark dreams.
On sleepless nights his thoughts turned to memories of the times he had spent with his lover, how on that first time they had both been a little nervous. He smiled as he recalled those tentative touches as each was learning how to please the other, how cautious Kakashi had been when they first made love; he was determine to provide as much pleasure as he could but was desperately afraid of causing Iruka the slightest pain. But the chuunin was far tougher than he looked and Iruka knew that Kakashi had loved that about him. Then he remembered how Kakashi had used the sharingan to memorise exactly where Iruka liked to be touched, places that Iruka himself didn't realise were sensitive to a lover's caress. Iruka had relied on his natural empathy to learn what brought Kakashi to the pinnacle of ecstasy and this had worked just as well as the sharingan. Neither had a particular preference, they topped or bottomed as the mood took them. They made love. They fucked. They did it slow and dirty, they did it hard and rough. Kakashi was incredibly kinky and imaginative and Iruka more than happy to experiment with new ways to explore their mutual pleasure. Always they did it with love.
It wasn't just about the sex. It was also about the precious time they spent together, savouring quiet moments in each other's arms, watching movies together (even if Iruka had secretly felt that watching the Icha Icha film five times was a little excessive), or skinny-dipping in the river late at night and basking in the moonlight. When he wasn't on missions Kakashi would go to the academy in the late afternoon and wait for Iruka outside the school gates, like a lovesick teenager, to walk him home. And Iruka would always prepare a special welcome for Kakashi for when he returned from his assignments.
Late one night Iruka had come back to Kakashi's apartment after a long day at work. He wolfed down a bowl of instant ramen, fed the dogs and took a shower before collapsing onto the bed. He reached across the covers and picked up Kakashi's unwashed jounin sweater, pulling it close to him, inhaling the last vestiges of any scent that remained. Iruka fantasised about sex with Kakashi. He remembered Kakashi's kisses, intense and insistent, always wanting to explore further, deeper. He imagined the Copy-nin touching him, his elegant fingers ghosting over Iruka's skin, light touches that sent shivers down the chuunin's spine. As he became lost inside his memory, Iruka began to touch himself, his fingers emulating his imagining of Kakashi's caresses, skimming his fingers over his nipples, then rubbing, rolling and pinching them. As he increased the pressure he found himself becoming hard. His hands moved across his body, brushing the smooth skin of his chest, then further downwards, his fingers tracing the downy hair of his belly before threading through the wiry brown curls to his cock. He gripped it firmly and began to stroke it slowly.
Iruka recalled memories of being pleasured by his lover. He remembered Kakashi holding him, taking him from behind, the arm underneath him tightly grasping Iruka's chest to pull his lover closer to him, the fingers gently massaging his nipples, with the other arm reaching around Iruka's waist to find his arousal. As Kakashi's long fingers took hold of Iruka's cock he would pump it slowly and assuredly, and he'd thrust himself deep inside Iruka, precisely matching the pace of his hand, as he hit his lover's sweet spot every time. The feeling was exquisite. Kakashi would bury his face in his lover's long chestnut hair, inhaling his distinctive scent, and Iruka could always feel how much the jounin had desired him, how much he had wanted him, how beautifully he could pleasure him. As an elite shinobi with perfect timing, Kakashi could ensure that they came together.
Iruka squeezed his cock and began to increase the pace, pumping himself harder, faster. That feeling was beginning to build up, a tight coil in his groin taking him steadily towards release. His hand continued as his mind took him back to further images and memories of Kakashi. He came and as the fluid spurted into his hand so his tears began to flow. It happened every time these days, it was just a form of release, there was no helping it. He cleaned himself off with a towel and laid back on the cool mattress, head resting on the pillow. He didn't sleep but merely drifted in and out of a troubled consciousness.
At about 2am he heard a muffled noise from the apartment's entrance several floors below. It was quiet enough that it would never had disturbed anyone who was sleeping but Iruka was still awake and acutely aware of any unusual sounds that he heard in the night. His ears pricked up. Someone was making their way up to the flat. Iruka wondered whether perhaps Naruto had returned from a mission and was coming up to see him – he knew that his former sensei had taken to spending time at Kakashi's apartment and made a point of visiting him whenever he could. Maybe he'd seen the light on at the window. But it was very late and even Naruto would think twice about visiting during the early hours. As the barely audible sound of the visitor climbing the stairs drew nearer, Iruka got out of bed, threw on a cotton yukata and shuffled to the door. He opened it, just a crack, as the stranger came into view and he could not believe his eyes. He flung the door wide open and standing in front of him was the shabbiest excuse for a silver haired shinobi that Iruka had ever seen.
"Tadaima. Did you miss me?" Kakashi grinned wearily and then collapsed on the floor in a heap.
Iruka was speechless. A whirl of emotions started rushing through his mind. Could he finally have fallen asleep and this was some kind of warped and crazy dream? No, he checked himself. He was definitely very much awake. And his lover had returned. His lover had returned. He dropped to his knees and scooped Kakashi into his arms, holding him tightly, running his hands through the matted silver hair, hair that was caked in dried blood and grime. He gently rocked them both to and fro for the longest time, barely able to believe that this could be happening. Kakashi simply rested in the chuunin's arms, eyes closed and with just the smallest of smiles beneath his ragged mask.
Eventually Iruka looked down at the jounin and realised that Kakashi was in a terrible state, his filthy clothes were torn and covered with blood and he was obviously very close to complete chakra depletion. Iruka hauled him up and dragged him into the bathroom whereupon he removed all Kakashi's clothing and started running a shower. Kakashi wasn't capable of washing himself, so Iruka sat the exhausted jounin down on an upturned bowl and started showering him down. He gently soaped the jounin's skin, rubbing away the dried blood and dirt, making sure that he cleaned any injuries with extra care. He also washed Kakashi's hair. He had always loved doing that – touching those gravity-defying silver locks, massaging his scalp and rinsing the shampoo off as it trickled in rivulets down Kakashi's pale skin. Water was the only thing that could tame Kakashi's hair, even if only temporarily.
Once cleaned up and dried off, Iruka examined the jounin's naked body. He was horribly thin and there were injuries all over – new scars, bruises, cuts and one particularly bad looking gash on the Copy-nin's arm. Iruka found the first aid kit and, slowly and methodically, rubbed salve over each wound then dressed it. Kakashi observed him through his half-lidded grey eye, grateful but unable to do anything other than watch proceedings. The chuunin was so gentle with him, treating him as though he could break at any moment.
Kakashi had absolutely no energy so, when his wounds had been attended to, Iruka lifted him up and carried him to the bed. He was a dead weight but Iruka had always kept up his physical training and could easily carry his lover. He gently laid the naked jounin onto the mattress and rolled him onto his side making sure that he was comfortable. He then slipped into bed in front of Kakashi and reached behind himself to find Kakashi's arm. He grasped the wrist carefully and pulled it across his own body, so that the jounin was holding his lover. It was the weakest of embraces, but an embrace nonetheless. Iruka would have been happy to have spent eternity like that.
Iruka didn't even consider asking questions, although he was desperate to know what had happened to Kakashi. But answers could wait forever if it meant one more night with his lover.
Finally Iruka slept.
