A/N: Originally, I started writing this as a side story, to explore just why it was that Chapter One got narrated by my Kakashi voice. But with the way Chapter Four is shaping up, I realized that this would actually be a valuable addition, in terms of getting things set up for what's coming in the future. Not to mention, I love Gai and Kakashi's character interaction. 3 Expect Chapter Four in a few days!
At some point, now long in the past, Gai and Kakashi might have become lovers. The similarities between them, which they've both been able to see since their very first meeting, actually make some people think for the longest time that they are lovers, and Gai's amusing habit of challenging Kakashi practically every time they meet reinforces that belief. But the real possibility of it is now long in the past. Too many losses have left the Copy-Nin unwilling to give his heart to a fellow jounin, one who will undergo the same risks he does – particularly Gai, of all people, because Kakashi knows about the taijutsuist deadly decade as well as his green-clad counterpart does. And Gai, for his part, prefers the youthful company of his team and his cheerful, almost insane pretense that he is as young as they. It's better than taking a lover of his own age, one whose very presence will remind him of the years flowing by, bringing him ever closer to that day when his body will no longer follow his commands with all the strength and speed he demands of it, when he'll finally encounter the enemy given the advantage, not disadvantage, by youth.
But sometimes, it seems like the friendly ebbing of the once-powerful sexual tension between them has been a good thing overall, because in its place it leaves an easy understanding that lets them trust each other in a way they can't trust anyone else, a sense of ease that doesn't necessarily need to be expressed in honest words. They both wear masks, although Kakashi's is made of cloth and Gai's is made of smiles, and they both allow each other occasional glimpses beneath those masks. In a way, they even function as safety valves for each other. When Kakashi starts slipping too far into brooding, passing too many hours at the memorial stone and letting his personal darkness eat into him too far, Gai dreams up particularly ridiculous challenges and flowery speeches until Kakashi is forced to smile. And when Gai's smiles get too brittle, his ornate words and half-crazed cheer get too forced, Kakashi drags him off to a quiet place where he can let down the exhausting act and quietly release the more serious feelings underneath.
So when Kakashi first starts taking an interest in the chuunin schoolteacher who actually had the stones to stand up to him and question his handling of his team, Gai's the first one to notice it, and in between the lines of a very flowery speech on the Beauty of True Love, he manages to slip in the genuine advice that Iruka might be exactly the right person for Kakashi. As a teacher, he's almost never sent on missions, and because he's a chuunin, the missions he does take are rarely the most dangerous ones – in a sense, he's "safe" for Kakashi to care about, but he's also clearly brave and determined enough to keep up with the Copy-Nin in terms of personality.
And when Gai starts noticing that Lee isn't a little boy anymore, he's grown into a very strong young man and, at least in Gai's eyes, a very attractive one (Kakashi is of the opinion that Gai's sense of aesthetics is a little warped), the white-haired jounin reminds him that student-teacher relationships are not particularly taboo among ninja, so long as the student in question is of age, and that Lee's crush on Gai started several years ago at 'hard to miss' and has only gotten more and more obvious since then. The first reminder comes in the form of a book that Gai most certainly did not purchase suddenly appearing on his nightstand, and the second from a slightly too casual observation that Lee has barely spoken to Sakura at all in the past few months, and that anytime he's asked about – well, anything – the immediate answer always involves Gai in some way, shape or form. The book, Gai discovers, is an anthology of (erotic, naturally – it is a gift from Kakashi, after all) stories about teachers and students falling in love; a handwritten note on the inside of the cover, signed with a henohenomoheji, tells him that it's made the bestseller lists in every major hidden village. He's very uncertain about it at first, as he really is not in the habit of reading such things, and he's rather uncertain about encouraging his own somewhat unorthodox feelings for his protégé. But he doesn't get rid of the book, and it's almost inevitable that he eventually opens it, more out of curiosity than anything else. He likes some of the stories more than others, of course; one could practically have been written about him and Lee, and it's with a feeling of near-guilt that he considers it the most moving of them all. The stories aren't mindless porn, and apart from (or really, including, if Gai is honest with himself) the rather detailed scene in which the underdog student "thanks" the teacher who has always stood by him and taught him to shine, it is lyrical and achingly bittersweet. He wonders if the pseudonymous author is in the same position, either as student or sensei; it seems as though it could only have been written by someone who has experienced the same feelings of conflict that Gai himself is going through.
Not that long after Gai delivers his impassioned speech about the Beauty of Love, which between the lines is really about how Kakashi really ought to at least try flirting with Iruka occasionally because they could be really good together, the Copy-Nin is noticed to be haunting the academy building, and rumors begin to quietly circulate. A few days after Gai hears about that, Kakashi comes looking for him.
"Consider it a challenge," he offers in his offhand voice, not looking up from the latest volume of Icha Icha. "I got what I was looking for, after all. And if I can manage to ask out the guy who called me several nasty names to my face, then it should be easy for you to ask the guy—" he pointedly avoids using any reference to Lee's young age or his status as Gai's student, "—the guy who thinks you hung the moon." Of course, Gai thinks to himself, it's easy for Kakashi to sound so very cool about it – he has the overly languorous, satisfied, smug bearing of someone who has recently gotten very thoroughly laid. He's gotten what he wants, and from the sound of it, it isn't a one-time thing, either. But in a way, he thinks, it's easier for Kakashi. With no previous connection between them, other than the vague one of Kakashi's current team being Iruka's former students, Kakashi had nothing to lose by asking. Gai has quite a bit -- the relationship between him and Lee is already complex and precious to him, and the prospect of damaging it haunts him. He doesn't voice it in quite that fashion – this isn't "mask down" time – but rather voices a concern about the purity of youth being a precious blossom that should not be abused. Kakashi laughs at that. "Pure? How many teenage shinobi do you honestly think are all that 'pure'? He's got the same hormones as everyone else, you know." The hand not holding his book makes an obscene gesture. "And he—" Gai interrupts him sharply, trying to drown out the sentence. "—just like everyone else, too."
Gai's problem isn't truly that he thinks Lee is all that "pure" in the sense Kakashi means. He's gone on extended missions with him, after all – both Lee and Neji have on occasion indulged themselves when they thought the rest of the team asleep. The purity he means is a different kind, one that's harder to describe but he nevertheless feels he may forever sully by reaching out to his student in a sexual fashion. It's getting harder to resist, though, as Kakashi encourages him and Lee fills out the beginning of manhood – and legality. At first, Gai had thought he could protect Lee from his own desires, but more and more, he's wondering if that's really the case.
It's getting harder and harder to say no, to pretend he doesn't see that the hero-worship has taken on a decidedly romantic undertone. Sooner or later, he knows he's going to crumble.
