I do not own - Masashi Kishimoto does.
Note: Rated T for male/male romance (which we're getting to, really, we are!)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Konoha hot springs were naturally occurring outdoor pools located at the edge of town. There was an admission to be paid for their upkeep, and for the use of towels and washcloths, but on holidays and during certain festivals, the pools were free.

Iruka stood in front of the main showerhouse that was the gateway to the springs, sucking on a peppermint stick and trying to silence the niggling voice in the back of his head. What was he doing here? Why had he followed Kakashi? What kind of wild Christmas goose chase was he on?

"Well," he tried to answer to his own conscience, "maybe a good soak is what I need right now. I guess no one is going to die if I don't clean my house, and Naruto will probably polish off those cookies so fast he won't even notice if they're frosted. Plus," and in a way, he found this both the hardest and most exhilarating thing to admit, "Kakashi intrigues me. In a way no one ever has before."

Crunching up the last of the peppermint, he stepped into the building. He showered quickly and, wrapping a towel around his waist, slipped out the door and into the frosty night.

He shivered at the bite of the air against his flesh, and exhaled a trembling breath. There was a blur of steam that hung over the whole area like a mystical fog. He could hear low happy voices, but could not see anyone through the dimly lit grove. The first pools were usually crowded, but he knew of one farther back that was usually unoccupied, and he made his way towards it.

When he reached it, he lowered himself in slowly, gritting his teeth at the scalding water, but then relaxing into it. Demurely, he set aside his towel at the last possible moment and slid in up to his neck, savoring the heat as it soaked full through into his bones. He took a measured breath and exhaled in a cloud which dissipated and joined the vapors hanging over the pool.

He swirled his arms forwards and back making little eddies. Surprisingly, he found his mind rather empty. There was little to do or think about when sitting in a hot spring. Instead of being uncomfortable or anxious, especially at being completely naked, there was a freedom to it. There was no chance he'd be running off to do any chores at the moment. He was able to fully concentrate on the silky smoothness of the warm water, the curling tendrils of steam, and, as he listened, he could hear the gentle notes of a traditional carol somewhere not too far away.

"That's better, isn't it?"

Reclined, with his head back, washcloths draped over both the upper and lower half of his face, was Kakashi.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Iruka asked.

"Oh. Sorry. Didn't anyone tell you? I'm a ninja."

Iruka smiled. "Oh yeah." Then his brow furrowed. "What does that make me? Nothing more than a brooding, list-obsessed mothering hen, I guess."

"Please," said Kakashi. "I thought I was with the man who can hold the moon."

The comment was spoken with such outright sincerity that the young teacher turned to face the recumbent Jonin. Kakashi lifted a corner of the washcloth covering his eyes. The twinkle was back.

"You need to learn to let your hair down. Figuratively as well as physically."

"Hu?" Iruka touched his ponytail self consciously. He usually forgot he even had it up. But to take it down was almost too private a thing. When he actually thought about it, it was rather silly, but he probably left his hair tie in just so he wouldn't be entirely naked. "You're not really in a place to criticize anyone's hair styles," he joked, then said, "no, I don't think so."

"Too late," Kakashi said, as a shuriken whizzed through the air. If Iruka hadn't frozen at the sound, the deadly weapon would have embedded itself in the side of his head, which definitely would have put a damper on the Christmas season. Instead, time seemed to stand still as the tie was severed and his hair cascaded down over his shoulders and around his ears, framing his face.

"Mm. Much better."

Iruka shot his patented "death-glance" (no jutsu required) over at Kakashi. He had to lift a hand from the water to brush his hair back just so he could glare at him. "Where in the hell did you get that shuriken?"

"You have pretty brown eyes, Iruka-sensei."

Reflexively, Iruka cast his gaze downward, then decided to take the comment at its cheeky face-value. He met the jonin's gaze again. "And you are a pervert of the highest degree, Copy Nin Kakashi."

Kakashi chuckled, and Iruka was pretty sure he'd never heard such a warm and pleasant sound. Like the waters surrounding him, or a thick winter quilt, he was pretty sure he could wrap himself in it and be content for quite some time.

They sat quietly then, as the night stretched on. A slight breeze carried the comforting music over them both and dissipated some of the fog. Iruka could hear someone playing a clay drum, wood blocks, a flute. He concentrated on the song, its nostalgic charm taking him back to a much simpler time, where there were no lists, no deadlines, no responsibilities. A time when his biggest concern was thinking he might die with anticipation waiting for Christmas to arrive. It was funny how excruciatingly long the days had seemed back then, and how now they flew by so fast, he was barely able to count them.

He stared at the surface of the water, concentrating on keeping as still as possible. When the pool was almost as flat as glass, an image of the moon, wreathed in the boughs of snow-covered trees overhead, reflected in it like a mirror. He brought cupped hands up through the reflection so he appeared to be holding liquid moonlight.

The moon was always there, the moon was a constant. Why couldn't more things in life be like the moon? For some reason, the simple thought caused his eyes to grow blurry. He looked up and blinked to keep the sting from turning into real tears.

A fingertip brushed his cheek. "Hey."

Iruka started. Kakashi, his arm outstretched, had moved closer. Iruka forced a laugh and scooted sideways, away from the touch. "This cold air," he sniffed. "It's getting to me. I... I think it's probably time for me to go home."

The reflection of the moon rippled across the pool, broken and scattered. "I can't hold the moon," he thought. "I can't even hold on to those dear to me."

"Wait."

He didn't. With strong, muscled arms, he pulled himself out of the pool and tucked the towel around himself. "Thank you, Kakashi-sensei, but I must say good night." He didn't wait for a response and rapidly walked back towards the shower house where he'd left his clothes.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aw! I hope you all realize what a good time I had writing this chapter. Not much more to go. Thanks again for the comments!

Edit: "Iruka lets his hair down." hee hee hee!

Man, these guys are so star-crossed it drives me nuts. And the funny thing is, I think Iruka is a broody hen. But I love 'em!