A few months have passed since Obito and Iruka began dating. Rin eventually noticed and made fun of the two of them every chance she got. Kakashi largely said nothing, but occasionally, Obito would catch the silver-haired boy staring at him. He thought he even saw..., confusion in his eyes. Obito brushed it off as his imagination. What did Kakashi have to be confused about? He was straight, he had Rin. Obito was gay, he had Iruka. If he weren't so determined to believe otherwise, the pale skinned boy would ask him about it. Instead though, he pretended he didn't notice, trying to be happy with Iruka. For the most part, he even was..., until he returned to his house alone.
Then reality came back on him. He wanted Kakashi. He wanted him so badly.

Obito had taken to carving light marks upon his fingers. Sometimes, it was just random lines, other times it was some sort of intricate design that wasn't visible until they healed over the next few days. It calmed him..., when he thought, he would find himself absently running his knife among his fingers. Sometimes..., he thought about carving into his neck. He would have to be extremely careful if he did that though... Wouldn't want to knick the artery...
Right?

Obito smiled then, a strange smile, not happy nor sad, just... bemused.
His eyes flicked up, looking around the classroom. No one had noticed his brief lapse in focus. He returned his attention to the paper before him. Physics. Easy. Spacing out in that class was normal..., no one of real interest shared the class with him so he had no one to talk to. He did his work quietly and efficiently. His knife was in his pocket, suddenly heavy against his leg. His eyes flicked to his pocket. His other hand was close enough to touch the blade through the fabric. His fingers itched to touch it. To feel it's reality. But he restrained himself, focusing upon the paper. He was only halfway finished with the day's assignment.

Once he finished his paper and turned it in, he returned to his seat. Twenty minutes until he would walk to lunch with Iruka. It really wasn't fair..., what he was doing to Iruka... He didn't want him. He was..., just a friend. That's all he would ever be..., right?
The more he thought about it, the more sure he became. He would have to do something, to prove to himself that Iruka could mean something to him. It was simple... Really, simple.

Iruka had already sat down at the lunch table and Obito only had a carton of milk. He tossed it to his normal seat beside his boyfriend, stopped behind him. He bent at the waist, his arms sliding around Iruka's neck, his mouth centimeter's from the tanned boy's ear.
"My house, this saturday night, be there by say eight?"

Iruka's face flamed and he sat there, spluttering.

Obito smiled, nuzzeling his ear. The other boy turned an even darker shade as Rin made a disgusted noise as she happened to look over. Obito just smiled and finally took his seat.
"I'll take that as a yes."

Saturday finally came. Throughout the last few days, Obito refrained from any new cuts or carvings.
Iruka was on time, as usual. Obito greeted him, his goggles over his eyes, his fishnet shirt the only thing covering his chest and his black skinny jeans hanging off his ass. Iruka blushed once more, gazing at Obito's toned upper body.

The black haired boy smiled and closed the door with his foot before pressing himself into Iruka and pressing their lips together hard. Iruka returned the pressure but softly, Obito's urgency not rubbing off. Even as The taller pressed the tanned boy back up against the cold metal door, Iruka was content to gently return the kiss.
Growing just slightly frustrated, Obito withdrew, gently taking Iruka's hand in his own and leading him to his room.

Iruka just grinned, completley oblivious. Obito removed his goggles, placing them on his nightstand before walking back over to his boyfriend. He kissed him again, gently this time, but he felt nothing, not even when the brunette returned the kiss, his arms sliding around Obito's slim waist.
'Finally,' he thought, his own arms encircling Iruka's waist, his hands sliding under the baggy t-shirt, slowly sliding up his back.

Soon, Obito led him to his bed, allowing Iruka to fall on top of him, keeping their lips pressed together. Somehow, he managed to get them both shirtless. Upon seeing his arms and fingers Iruka was shocked and worried.

"Obito..., what..., what have you done?" he asked, gazing upon his boyfriend with a look of something akin to horror.

"What I needed to..., some of it's even beautiful art work," Obito replied, flexing his arm, admiring the scars.

Iruka shook his head, "That's not healthy Obito."
He began to pull away, and Obito reached for his wrist, catching it and looking up at him.

His eyes held a plea, and Iruka didn't go, kissing him again, harder than before. Still, Obito felt nothing for the boy on top of him. Nothing at all. As Iruka began to hesitantly begin to kiss down his chest, Obito realized something. Iruka wasn't Kakashi. He could never come close. Not physically, not emotionally. Iruka couldn't even be a stand-in for someone he could never have.

Iruka's mouth had found his nipples and he was gently sucking on one, his hand tweaking the other. His body arched into the touch but he wasn't even really getting excited. He couldn't even try to imagine it was Kakashi, they looked too different.
Abruptly, Obito shoved Iruka off. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his bed, his head in his hands.

Iruka looked confused, staring at Obito.

"Go, Iruka, just go."

He started to say something but thought better of it and found his shirt, shrugging it on.

"It's over by the way...," Obito said softly, his eyes upon the floor.

He thought he heard a muffled cry as Iruka slammed the door as he left. It didn't matter though. None of it did. He wanted Kakashi. He wanted to feel something! Anything!

He took out his knife, the blade glinting in the faint light as he pressed the button. He didn't even bother to go to the bathroom. He just made a cut. A deep, angry, jagged cut. Ripping the skin apart, it was diagonal even, cutting across his equally spaced cuts. It bled. Oh how it bled. The dark red flowing out of his arm, down it. Finally on to the floor.

He smiled. He laughed, a hollow sound.
His breath was ragged as he finally forced himself up, his arm still trickling blood.

He cleaned up the blood from the floor and his arm. Carefully, he used new skin to patch his skin back together. Once it dried, he laid upon his bed, he didn't sleep, he simply laid there, remembering, wanting.
Kakashi..., the object of his affections. The one he wanted above all. The one he couldn't have.