Author's Note: Tumblr request, "I didn't want you to see this". Still accepting requests on tumblr (and filling them slowly lol)
"Kakashi?" Tenzo's voice broke through the heavy silence that filled the small apartment. It took his eyes a couple of moments to adjust to the darkness once he pulled the door shut. The empty room mocked him, reminded him that he hadn't been invited. Even so, Tenzo felt a pull, an urge to check on Kakashi whether the man wanted him to or not.
Their mission had gone badly, as Anbu operations often did. The perfection that most people assumed that the Black Ops operated under was an illusion. at best. They were exceptionally skilled shinobi, true, but their tasks were also the most difficult. Tenzo had calculated their chance of success to be less than twenty-five percent. Through Kakashi's cunning, they'd completed the objective, but it hadn't been without losses.
When they were making their final report, Kakashi had turned to ice. His eyes grew glassy and his words clipped, a cold separation between himself and the Hokage. Tenzo found the change disconcerting. He'd heard the whispers about the "friend killer" and the emotionless genius, but he'd thought they were cruel jokes. How could anyone look at Kakashi and believe those things? The memory of Kakashi rescuing Tenzo from Root had seared itself into his identity.
Pulling himself back to the present, Tenzo called Kakashi's name a second time. He wondered if he'd overstepped himself by picking the lock, but he hadn't been able to help himself. Pregnant silence answered. Tenzo padded toward the bedroom, half expecting to find Kakashi asleep. Midnight had come and gone hours ago, after all.
If not for the nightmare that left him with shaky hands, Tenzo would have been asleep too. The images had faded to shadows, but the terror clawed at Tenzo's throat. He couldn't remember what happened, only that it centered around Kakashi. His eyes swept the bedroom, pausing at the empty, tangled sheets. A glass sat on the nightstand, the sticky scent of alcohol flavoring the air.
Tenzo frowned and started to turn away, but something stopped him. He stared at the corner of the room, narrowing his eyes against the pale moonlight. Instinctively, Tenzo folded his hands into the ram sign and pulsed chakra through his body. The shadows shimmered as the genjutsu dissipated, revealing Kakashi curled in the corner.
"You always were too smart for your own good," Kakashi grumbled, voice lacking the inflections that Tenzo expected. In fact, the words almost slurred over themselves. Tenzo's gaze traveled to the bottle in Kakashi's hand, then back to his bloodshot eyes.
It took Tenzo a full five seconds to realize that Kakashi's mask hung loose around his neck. The pale face took him by surprise, as did the delicate downward pull of the other man's mouth. Tenzo shook himself. "Why are you hiding here?"
"I didn't want you to see this." Kakashi laughed, a bitter, angry thing after the cold silence of earlier. "I'd like at least one person to still think well of me."
Tenzo crossed the room on silent feet, then knelt next to Kakashi. The man almost shied away, but there was nowhere to go. Tenzo exhaled slowly, trying to control the frantic pump of his heart. "You don't have to hide anything, not from me."
Kakashi shook his head, drawing deeper into himself. "You don't understand. I break everything that I touch, everyone that I care about. I always let them down."
Catching Kakashi's free hand with his, Tenzo brought it up to his face. Fingers grazed his cheek then curved against his neck. Tenzo focused on Kakashi's eyes, nearly drowning the pain and uncertainty there. He leaned into the tentative touch. "I'm not broken," he whispered.
Heart pounding louder than the blood roaring in his ears, Tenzo brushed his lips against Kakashi's. He relished the almost painful way that Kakashi's fingers curled in his hair. When Tenzo pulled back, Kakashi's expression had changed. His thumb traced Tenzo's still damp mouth, then he smiled sadly. "Not yet."
