The chunin bar was nearly empty when Mizuki entered. At this hour only the losers, drunks, and conspirators were still hanging around. A quick glance revealed only one person worth talking to, a perpetual genin with thick dark hair and a nose that had been broken so many times it was just a lumpy thing on the center of his face. Ryoichi was an eyesore with the potential of being a nuisance, but he was always sniffing close to anyone who might say something he could repeat. He also had money and was quick to use it in the vain hope of buying friends. Mizuki settled at his table. "Hey, Yoi, buy me a drink."
Ryoichi grimaced. "I wish you wouldn't call me that." He sent worried look at the door. "Should you be in here?"
"Why not?"
"Because Montarou's looking for you."
As if Mizuki would hide from the likes of him. He jerked his head at the bar. "Hurry up. I came all the way out here for nothing. I might as well get a drink before I head back." That got Yoi curious enough to head to the bar. He returned with an actual bottle of the nice stuff. Mizuki had figured he would. Yoi was more loser than conspirator, but he was always quick to blab in the hopes of graduating from one to the other. Mizuki could use some distracting bullshit right about now. He had wasted an hour before accepting that Iruka really wasn't home. Iruka had also placed something seriously nasty on his door. He had better tone that shit down before it killed the first civilian who accidentally knocked on the wrong door. Mizuki hadn't decided yet whether he would warn him about that. At the moment he didn't think he would. It would serve Iruka right if he left him to learn that lesson the hard way.
"So?" Ryoichi asked. "Have you been hiding?"
Mizuki snorted. "From Tari?"
"I would be, if I were you. Word has it he bought off Anko and he's planning to take what you owe him out of your skin. Maybe literally."
That was worth a laugh. "If he bought that crazy bitch off, that's his own problem." Tari knew as well as he did that she was the only one who would have sicced the landlord on them. No one else gave a shit what happened in that building. "He's just pissed that he has to find his own marks now. I've moved on to better things."
Ryoichi leaned forward eagerly. "Yeah? Like what?"
"Training." He scoffed and took a deep drink at Yoi's disappointed expression. "A loser like you wouldn't understand." That earned him a hurt look that would have been more effective if not for that abomination he called a nose. Mizuki ignored it. "Have I missed anything? Aside from Tari being in a pout?"
"You should take that more seriously," Ryoichi warned him. "He's not pouting, he's angry. He's dangerous when he's angry."
"Tari knows better than to threaten me." Mizuki had been privy to far too many of his dirty little secrets. "So?"
"There's a lot of talk about your teammate."
He grimaced at that. "He's more like the ungrateful little brother I never asked for."
He had enjoyed him at first, though, watching him go from teacher's pet to unwitting class clown, mocked by his peers and almost villainized by the subs. It had been amazing, and rather disturbing, how quickly and easily Iruka had fallen from grace. All it had taken was the death of his parents and he had ceased to matter. If that could happen to someone like Iruka then the rest of them really didn't stand a chance. He had made it his mission to prove to Iruka that everything they had been taught was a lie. The village didn't care about nobodies like them. The only ones who mattered were the clan members, those with the right connections, preferably by blood but marriage would do almost as well. It wasn't a coincidence that all five clan members in their class had graduated a year early. Mizuki had taken great satisfaction from learning three of those five had vanished two years later. He liked to imagine they were still alive, still being tortured and experimented on in some dungeon in Sound, because while they had been more important than the rest of them they still hadn't been important enough for the village to wage a rescue attempt. What Orochimaru took, he kept. The only way to avoid that was to not be taken in the first place. Mizuki had learned that lesson quickly. Iruka, on the other hand, was still throwing himself into missions, risking his life for people who would never give a shit about him. It was sickening.
Mizuki had realized he had failed his self-appointed mission after that first humiliating attempt at the Chunin exam. He had felt confident in his place as the only person Iruka could rely on, the only one in the entire damn village who had his back. He had felt almost like one of the good guys because Iruka had been so difficult, whiny and needy and there had been so many times he had wanted to just slap the shit out of him and tell him to grow up. He never had. One hit and Iruka would have bolted, and then what would he have left? Nothing at all, no purpose, no place, no goals. So he had reined himself in and kept at him and after the exam he had been convinced that was it, that would be the last straw, the last bit of proof Iruka needed to finally open his eyes to the fact that it was all bullshit and always had been. Instead Iruka had insisted they immediately resume missions with anyone willing to lead them.
He should have cut him off then and there. Instead here he was still checking to see if he was dead yet, if he had given up yet, if he had seen the light yet. Iruka would never see the light. Iruka was too blind to see anything except what he wanted to see. Sometimes Mizuki thought about blinding Iruka himself to punish him for his refusal to open his eyes. The thought made him feel both excited and sick to his stomach. Iruka represented the failure of the one thing he had seriously set his mind to achieving, but Iruka was also the only person in this village he had history with. Iruka was his only connection here. When Iruka's stupid blind stubborn devotion to this damned village got him killed Mizuki wasn't sure what he would do. Maybe he would just leave. Knowing his luck he would be the only 'missing person' the village stirred itself to look for and he would die without ever having achieved anything.
"You going to ask?" Ryoichi prompted.
"No," Mizuki said, taking another drink. "You'll tell me or you won't. You have until the bar closes to make up your mind."
Ryoichi leaned close and dropped his voice, as if anyone else in the bar cared what someone like him had to say. "Word is, he's a screamer. I heard-"
"That's a lie," Mizuki sighed. "Hiroto started that one. It's bullshit."
"Seriously? Why would Hiroto lie about that?"
"Because he's not just a drunk, he's insane." He was amused by the way Yoi's eyes widened eagerly. "His apartment is full of trash. Floor to ceiling with just a little hole carved out like some kind of rat's nest. He has some sob story, the rest of his team tortured to death and he was the only one to make it back alive."
"That's awful."
Mizuki snorted at that. "If you feel sorry for him, pay him a visit. He'll have your face buried in the trash while he fucks the sympathy right out of you. Judging from the smell I expect they'll find a few bodies when he finally offs himself and they dig the place out. They might even be the bodies of those teammates he supposedly lost. It wouldn't surprise me. The only reason he hasn't offed himself yet is because his sister married into money and she keeps his lights on and his booze stocked. If she ever dies or cuts him off, he's finished. I bet it takes a few years before anyone gets curious enough to open up that apartment and find whatever's left of him."
"That's not right," Ryoichi cringed. "If he's that messed up, someone should do something."
"No one cares. He's trash the same as what he lives in. What else have you got?"
"Well, there's the thing about Anko."
"And Iruka?" Mizuki laughed. "As what, fuck buddies? She might be a whore, but even she wouldn't spread her legs for a priss like Iruka."
Ryoichi shifted uncomfortably. "They did have a mission together. That's not a rumor. It's true. Word has it that was the same mission you were supposed to join her on."
Mizuki put the bottle down before he could spill it on himself. His hands dropped to clench under the table. He should have known. That explained why Iruka hadn't paid her. And Iruka had insisted it was an A-rank mission. Iruka had gone on an A-rank mission with a confirmed traitor? Her, of all people? He wished Iruka was home. He wished he could march in there, grab him by the hair, and slam his head into the table a few dozen times until he stopped being such a fucking patsy. Even if he could do it, he knew it wouldn't knock any sense into his head. Iruka was too stubborn. He was also surprisingly sturdy these days. One hint of violence from him and Iruka would either attack him in self defense or report him. Probably both. Mizuki supposed he should give him a bit of credit for that. That was one of the few lessons Iruka had actually agreed with him about. Anyone in this village willing to attack him without a good reason was an enemy and should be treated as such. Not that Iruka had ever been attacked, but Mizuki had and Iruka had been quick to come to his defense. He gave him credit for that. No matter how much Mizuki wished he could mutilate him, they did have history.
"They also had dango together," Ryoichi informed him. He beamed at the startled look Mizuki sent him. "They were seen sitting right outside the dango shop."
Iruka? Splurging on fast food? With her?
"And there's the thing with Kakashi."
Mizuki shook his head. Hiroto had told him all about that. They had left separately, and Iruka had lost his temper, which was exactly what Mizuki had predicted would happen. Iruka couldn't handle being alone. Too long without sex and Iruka got downright nasty. Most of his lashing out was verbal, but the potential for violence was right under the surface. That was what had made him want to set Iruka up with Tari. He wouldn't have actually done it, because Iruka would never have agreed to even consider it, but he had enjoyed the idea. Tari was so confident in his skills, which he had honed exclusively with submissive marks. Tari would set about breaking Iruka the same way he had all the others, only it wouldn't be Iruka's will that broke, it would be his self control. In the absence of that, Iruka might be enraged enough to kill. And that would break him, the guilt and horror of having killed a fellow shinobi. But Mizuki didn't need to set that up. Even Iruka knew that temper of his was going to be his downfall. Mizuki hoped that when it happened it was against someone important enough to ruin him completely. Mizuki wanted to be there because he was the one Iruka would turn to and then he would finally know what he really wanted to do with Iruka, watch him suffer or patch him up one last time in the hopes that he might finally open his eyes. For his own sake, he hoped he gave him a nice kick while he was down and simply walked away. If Iruka's temper was liable to be his downfall, Mizuki's bizarre fixation on Iruka was liable to be his.
Ryoichi frowned in disappointment. "Then you already heard about the hospital?"
"What?"
"You didn't hear! Not many people are talking about that, but something went down. Word has it Kakashi dragged him out of the lobby and into the private wing. And he was bloody! Naruto was in the hospital, too. Do you think he attacked him?"
"What?" Mizuki repeated. He sent a quick look at the bottle. He hadn't drunk enough to feel this confused.
"Do you think your little brother attacked Naruto?" asked Ryoichi. "His parents died in the attack, right? Maybe he was trying to get-"
Mizuki's hand shot out, catching the front of Yoi's shirt and yanking him close enough so he wouldn't have to raise his voice. "Swallow that thought and close your mouth right now, Yoi," he murmured. "If I ever even suspect that you're repeating something like that, I will slit your throat and bury you in Hiroto's trash pile. It will be years before they find your body." He watched as Yoi's eyes widened and his lower lip trembled. So damned weak, but he had a mouth on him and some people did take the time to listen. "Give me a nod if you understand me, Yoi. I don't want to have to kill you. We're friends, aren't we?"
Ryoichi nodded frantically, and then slumped back in his seat the moment he was released.
Mizuki took a long swig from the bottle. Then he sighed and smiled at his companion. "Iruka isn't capable of something like that, Yoi." Mizuki would respect the hell out of him if he were. But Iruka wasn't, and a rumor like that could ruin him. If Iruka didn't ruin himself then Mizuki would be the one to do it. He wasn't going to let it happen at the hands of this loose-lipped nobody. "Iruka's dream is to teach at the Academy. He would sacrifice himself before he would let harm come to any child. Even that one."
"Oh," Ryoichi mumbled. He licked his lips and gave a tentative smile. "Do you think Kakashi was trying to get into his pants, then?"
It wouldn't be the first time, Mizuki thought in disgust. "Maybe. When did this happen?" He quickly found himself fighting another dose of outrage. Right after Mizuki had left him on that training ground? He hadn't spent hours beating Iruka into a sweaty panting mess just to have someone else bleed him the second his back was turned. His first suspect was Tari, but the timing didn't fit. If Tari had paid off Anko in the hopes of luring Mizuki back into his games he would have spent at least a few days looking for him before taking a shot at Iruka in order to lure him out. But Mizuki couldn't think of anyone else who would want to hurt Iruka. The people liable to do something like that didn't even notice Iruka. Mizuki had worked damn hard to keep it that way.
"And then there's Guy," said Ryoichi.
Mizuki sent him an exasperated look and took another swig. There wasn't enough alcohol in the bottle for this bullshit. What the hell had Iruka been doing since that ignorant trip to the bar? Iruka couldn't stand being the center of attention. Now there were multiple people being linked to him? What had Iruka done, run naked through the mission room in the busiest part of the night? Mizuki set the bottle down a little harder than necessary. It wobbled and he quickly steadied it. He was going to want the rest of that. He shook his head at Yoi. "Who?"
"Maito Guy," Ryoichi said quickly. "The crazy one with the green jumpsuit. That's fresh news, too! Only one person I talked to tonight had heard about that so far. They were having ramen together. And Guy was laughing. A lot! He's Anbu, you know."
"So is Kakashi," Mizuki bit out. "This is all utter bullshit. Stupid bullshit."
"Well, I guess it seems that way if you still think he's a priss. But he's awfully popular for a priss. I always thought he was kind of cute. Especially when he smiles."
Mizuki glared at him. "Forget it. Iruka's the prissy marrying type. If he ever settles down with anyone, it'll be a woman eager to give him a ton of kids to raise. All he cares about are kids. He'd cut his own balls off before he'd touch someone like you."
Ryoichi sighed, and then shrugged. "It's not like I could compete with two Anbu, anyway. I was just saying. He has a nice smile. But if he likes kids that much I guess it's Anko who will get him, huh?"
"No," Mizuki snapped. That crazy bitch wasn't a woman, she was Orochimaru's cast-off whore and Iruka should be ashamed to have his name associated with hers. But Iruka was a bleeding heart and had probably fallen in love with the bitch the second she asked for his help on that mission. That A-rank mission. Iruka's first A-rank mission. With her. Mizuki hated him so fucking much he was going to give himself an ulcer at this rate. He finished off the bottle and frowned at how much difficulty he had setting it down without it falling over. That was a lot of fancy whiskey to drink in one sitting. He was probably drunk now. That was also all Iruka's fault.
"If Anko's out," Ryoichi said thoughtfully, "maybe he can hook up with Shizune. She's as nice as he is."
Mizuki snapped him a look that would have been sharp if he hadn't just realized how drunk he was. "Yoi, have you spoken to Iruka?"
"No!" Ryoichi said quickly. He paled and leaned away from the table. "Never. I promise. I just see him sometimes. And he's kind of cute, so I smile and he smiles back, but that's it. I've never talked to him. I've never touched him. Honest!"
Great, Mizuki thought, as he crushed a hand over his eye. Now Yoi thought he was jealous or possessive or some shit. He was too drunk to have Iruka messing with his head this way. All these rumors were bullshit, anyway. The only thing Iruka was good for was oral. As far as actual sex, he wasn't worth a fuck. Literally. He sighed and reached out to pat Yoi's hand, because the man was a dumbass but he was sometimes a useful one.
"Thanks for filling me in, Yoi. You're a good friend. Sorry if I was harsh. I think I drank too much."
"Wow," Ryoichi exclaimed. "You drank the whole bottle! You can really hold your liquor. Two shots of that and I'm ready for bed. That's why I stick with beer. It tastes nasty but I can drink it a long time."
"Right," Mizuki muttered. "See you."
"Be careful," Ryoichi reminded him. "Don't forget about Montarou. I think he has some bad stuff in mind for when he finds you."
Tari probably did, and if he found him in this condition Mizuki might have to kill him to prevent it. Good thing he could teleport even when he was stupid drunk. Iruka couldn't even stand up when he was drunk. Not that it mattered when Iruka wasn't even home. For all Mizuki knew Iruka was at Anko's apartment going down on her or some shit. His stomach lurched into his throat and he choked it down painfully. That was some drunken jealous bullshit. That crazy bitch probably fucked her own snakes. Iruka's tongue wouldn't do anything for her. And Iruka's tongue wouldn't be going anywhere near her, anyway. Mizuki would rip Iruka's tongue out himself before he let that happen. That was what best friends were for. Maybe. He was still vague on that whole concept. But he was pretty sure best friends didn't let each other fuck traitors without at least delivering a sound ass-kicking. He would remind Iruka of that once he sobered up. If he remembered any of this. Maybe he wouldn't. As much as he loved the thought of mutilating Iruka, he was pretty sure Iruka would cry if he did. He hated it when Iruka cried. It made him feel bad, and that was the biggest pile of bullshit of all.
.-.
Kakashi had to accept that it wasn't his own prowess that left Iruka softly compliant, Iruka was just the sort to fall asleep immediately after sex. Kakashi supported him in the shower long enough to give him a thorough scrub and then deposited him in his tub while he finished his own shower. Iruka had scoffed when he warned him not to fall asleep and drown, but Kakashi showered quickly just in case. By the time he emerged, Iruka was stretched out in his tub, face flushed from the heat and a wide silly smile on his face. That smile caught Kakashi off guard for a moment. It reminded him of the time Minato had ordered him to join a 'male bonding' trip to the bathhouse. He had refused to get in the water and had spent the entire time wondering if Jiriaya and Minato were secretly related or if it was some sort of toad thing. The three of them had all been lined up, each wearing that same silly smile, even Naruto, and he had been torn between wanting to laugh at them and wishing he was somewhere else where no one would mistake him for one of them. He liked hot water as much as the next person, as a way to get clean and soothe sore muscles, but he didn't understand the appeal of cooking in it.
"Are you familiar with the slow boiled toad?" asked Kakashi.
Iruka laughed, but didn't open his eyes. "I believe it's a frog, being slowly cooked alive for food. As a metaphor for a corrupt leadership taking advantage of the vulnerable, it's very disturbing. As a way to kill an animal, it's upsetting. But for the frog?" He sank a little lower in the water. "I imagine there are far worse ways to die."
Kakashi sat on the edge of the sunken tub and dipped his feet into the water. His skin immediately started to redden. "You turned the heat up."
"Just a bit," said Iruka. He cracked an eye and grinned when Kakashi waved a red foot at him. "Sorry."
"I thought dolphins preferred cold water."
Iruka scoffed. "Cold and salty, supposedly. I've never been in the ocean. The salt might be good on scrapes and bruises, but it sounds very cold. And scary," he frowned, "not knowing what might be under there."
"Whales the size of a village," Kakashi frowned, "if you believe the tales." He wasn't sure if he believed them or not. Jiraiya said they were true, and that the survivors were actually underestimating the size some of those sea monsters grew to be. Since Kakashi had never traveled over the open ocean he hadn't worried much about it. "Along the coast where people swim, it's the jelly fish and sharks that do the most damage."
"All the more reason to be glad I prefer hot water. If I ever find myself in a position where I can no longer be a shinobi, I'll search out the most remote hotspring I can find and work there so I can spend all my free time enjoying the slow boil."
Kakashi wrinkled his nose. Iruka was definitely one of them. Iruka was too young to even be thinking about things like that. "Have you ever been to a hotspring?"
"Just once," Iruka admitted. "I was too young to appreciate the smell, but the water?" He gave a long sigh and grinned at the look Kakashi was giving him. "I stayed in until I was a slow-boiled raisin. It was a lovely way to go."
"Okay," Kakashi sighed, "you can stop that now. You talking like a lazy old man is disturbing me." He shook his head when Iruka laughed. "So the truth is, you're only with me for my tub."
"It's certainly a perk, but not the only reason." But Kakashi knew that, of course. Iruka bent his legs and propped Kakashi's feet on his knees. His feet really were noticeably red compared to his legs. "You can add some cold water if you want. I wasn't trying to keep you out of the tub."
"No, I won't spoil your soak. I don't chill as quickly as you do."
Iruka shot him a quick look. Kakashi was wearing nothing but a short towel around his waist, yet his nipples were soft, proving he really was at a comfortable temperature. Iruka gave him an apologetic smile. "You don't sweat as much as I do, either." Kakashi hadn't complained about that, but he must have noticed. "I'm quick to sweat, and then I get cold. Which is the point of sweating, but once I get cold I stay cold, so it rather defeats the purpose. I've always been that way. Maybe it's just part of being a swarthy person."
"Swarthy?" Kakashi laughed at that. Iruka's skin tone might be as bronzed as a farm worker, but his skin itself was healthy and wonderfully free of scars. He knew the lack of scars wouldn't last, because Iruka was an active shinobi, but he wished it could.
"What would you call it?" Iruka flushed. To be fair, few people had ever commented to his face about his complexion being noticeably darker than most everyone else in the village. But those comments had come after his parents' death, when he had been most liable to take them to heart. And he had. Mizuki had tried to help, pointing out that his blushing would look even worse if he had been the pale sort, but that had just made him more aware of the fact that he stood out. He moved his arm so his wrist was next to Kakashi's calf. The difference was too striking to deny. "Both of my parents were paler than I am, but I look enough like them that I obviously wasn't adopted. It must be something I inherited from a grandparent. Compared to people like you, I'm definitely swarthy."
"No," Kakashi smiled. Iruka was self-conscious about the strangest things. Iruka's complexion was like warm honey, and very attractive. "Swarthy means sun damaged. Burnt and weathered and rough. Unless you have a secret habit of sunbathing in the nude, you're completely natural. Your skin is very smooth," he caught Iruka's hand and lifted his arm so he could run his fingers over his wrist. "Silky soft, like a ripe woman's breasts."
Iruka sputtered in shock at that comparison, and then he jumped and snapped his eyes closed when Kakashi tugged down his mask to kiss the inside of his wrist. "Warn me before you do that!" He had seen a glimpse of Kakashi's nose.
Maybe that was the answer, Kakashi thought to himself. He'd just 'forget' to warn him until the mask was no longer an issue. He sucked on the inside of Iruka's wrist until his fingers twitched and caught a bit of his hair. Iruka really liked his hair. That was nice, because he liked Iruka's hair, too.
"What are you doing?" asked Iruka.
Kakashi ran a thumb over the red mark he had made. Iruka's skin was certainly tan compared to pale people like him, but it made pink look even better on him, especially when he blushed. He pulled Iruka's hand down so he could run the tip of his tongue along the line on his palm, and Iruka flushed, his fingers twitching inward.
"Kakashi...?"
"Just a minute," Kakashi murmured. His other hand ghosted along Iruka's arm, feeling the goosebumps as he traced another of the lines on his palm with his tongue. "You're very sensitive."
"I'm ticklish," Iruka grimaced. "You're going to get me worked up again if you don't-" That tongue pushed between two of his fingers and he squirmed. From the way Kakashi's cheeks firmed beneath his hand he knew he was smiling. "You're doing it on purpose."
Of course he was. Iruka's hand was lightly calloused, a kunai being his weapon of choice based on the arrangement, though there were a few scars on his fingers that pointed to a use of shuriken as well. His knuckles were clean and smooth, so he wasn't much for punching. His fingertips were very sensitive and soft, no senbon for him. His nails were short and rounded, impeccably groomed. Kakashi sent an amused look into the tub to where Iruka's toes were curling. His feet were as pretty as his hands. Iruka's face, on the other hand, looked a bit overheated, as did another part of him.
"You said we were done for the night," Iruka reminded him quickly. He had been soaking his way to a nice sleep when he got home. Now he was wide awake and on edge again and Kakashi was definitely doing it on purpose. He let out a sharp breath when Kakashi took his middle finger into his mouth. He worked with his hands, so of course they were sensitive. A shinobi's hands were supposed to be sensitive. But not like this. Now he wished he hadn't neglected Kakashi's hands while he had been exploring him earlier.
"I don't recall saying that," Kakashi murmured. He lifted Iruka's arm so he could taste the inside of his elbow, leaving another mark there. Then he removed the towel and slipped into the tub. The water was still hot, but so was Iruka, and so was he. He settled between Iruka's legs and bent close enough to nibble on his ear. "When did I say that?"
Maybe Kakashi hadn't actually said it. Iruka was sure it had been implied, though. "I told you I was-" Fingers pushed into him and he gasped, and then groaned. No foreplay, then. Not that Kakashi minded foreplay. According to Kakashi what Iruka had done to him earlier was a slow deliciously extensive foreplay. That had been flattering to hear, and gratifying to know Kakashi hadn't rushed him because Kakashi had also been enjoying the slow build up. But there was no build up to this, unless he counted what Kakashi had been doing to his hand.
"I remember," Kakashi assured him, before sucking on that sensitive spot just below his ear that made him clutch at his back. "You told me you wanted to make an early start in the morning." Kakashi had conceded because that prevented him from giving in to the desire to have Iruka sleep in his arms. But it hadn't stopped him from wanting more. "You still can. This won't take long."
Iruka buried his face against Kakashi's neck, muffling a cry as the man pushed a bit of chakra directly into his prostate. That had frightened him the first time, because he wasn't interested in experimenting with potentially degrading and painful things. But Kakashi had posed it as a matter of trust, mutual trust, and he did trust Kakashi with his body because Kakashi didn't derive pleasure from hurting and humiliating a partner. It was still overwhelming, and alarming because Kakashi hadn't been able to explain exactly what he was doing or why it worked the way it did. He claimed it was just a way to soothe and heat and stimulate, maybe another variation of that chakra massage, but Iruka doubted that was all there was to it and wondered where Kakashi had even gotten the idea to do such a thing to a person. It made him feel as if he were having an instant orgasm, yet it prevented him from coming immediately the way he usually did. Maybe it was the chakra equivalent of that metal ring Mizuki had shown him, without the horrifying thought of such a torture device even existing. He knew his premature problem had to be some combination of mental and physical issues, and the physical undoubtedly had to do with blood flow and maybe the chakra affected that.
Kakashi's manner of dealing with the problem was certainly preferable, but it still felt like a form of experimentation that wouldn't be necessary if he could control himself the way normal men did. Even with his problem, it still wasn't necessary. He had told Kakashi he didn't need to be fully erect to enjoy what they did together. "You don't-"
"I do," Kakashi assured him. "Because I can. Because you know you can trust me enough to let me. Don't fight it, Iruka. Enjoy it." He shifted, his arm supporting Iruka's back so his head would have fallen to the edge of the tub had he not been hiding his face. He caught Iruka's earlobe in his teeth for a gentle tug before reminding him, "I cried for you."
Yes, he had. Iruka had even seen a hint of pink above the edge of his mask. He couldn't imagine someone like Kakashi blushing, but Iruka had certainly had him flushed and writhing and trusting him. He lifted his head and turned until his lips brushed his cheek. A very smooth cheek. He was starting to suspect Kakashi's mask didn't hide any scars at all. "It's too much," he bit out. "It feels dangerous."
"You have nothing to fear when you're with me." He gave another brush of chakra as he milked his prostate and this time Iruka threw his head back with a cry, his body arching upward. Kakashi pressed close, giving him the contact he craved. After tonight he was convinced Iruka didn't actually prefer doing it from behind like he had claimed he did that first time. Maybe he was used to doing it that way. Kakashi was certainly used to doing it that way because it was quick, convenient, and easy on both parties. But even while doing it from behind Iruka had wanted to be held closely and tightly. Face to face was much better because it let Iruka hold him just as tightly. Because it wasn't just the sexual pleasure and the connection that Iruka got off on, it was the physical closeness. It was wrong for someone like Iruka to be so starving for human contact. Kakashi would get to the bottom of that. For now he took advantage of it, enjoying the way Iruka clung to him like a drowning man.
He eased his fingers out and grinned at the way Iruka twitched, a weird look on his face. "The water?"
"I've never done it in a bath," Iruka panted. The water had felt strange, and very hot inside him. He had been in the tub so long the water felt almost tepid against his heated skin. Kakashi was sleek and cool in comparison. "Maybe we should move to the floor?"
And chill Iruka's back after his long soak? Kakashi wouldn't dream of it. "This is fine," he assured him. He pulled his mask back up and leaned close. "Relax now, and look at me."
The reminder had Iruka blushing as he opened his eyes. He had been so naive to think of himself as gaping. He had known Mizuki was smaller than him, but he hadn't realized how much difference just a bit of girth could make. He and Mizuki had been a bad match in every way. Kakashi, on the other hand, felt big even when Iruka relaxed as much as he could. It was hard to relax now, when he felt as if one stroke of his cock would have him coming. That Kakashi wanted them to look at each other made it even worse. Kakashi's left eye was closed, the raised scar so painful looking, but his other eye was smoldering. Iruka felt himself blush even harder. Looking at each other made it so personal. Sex wasn't supposed to be personal for a shinobi. It was just a physical need, an outlet, something a good shinobi could engage in with no emotions. Iruka wasn't a good shinobi when it came to this. Sex would never just be a physical act for him and if Kakashi saw that in his eyes he might never touch him again. "Maybe-"
Kakashi pushed into him slowly, because water was not a good lubricant. Iruka's eyes narrowed but remained locked with his own. His hands tightened on Iruka's back at the look in those eyes. This was what he had been missing. Maybe he shouldn't have needed to see it, though. He had known right away that Iruka's past partners had treated him badly, messing with his head and his self-confidence. How foolish of him to think good sex would be enough to repair that damage. Iruka's eyes were far too expressive for his own good, filled with pleasure and need, because he did enjoy and want this as much as Kakashi did. But beneath that was a well of vulnerability and at the bottom was fear and mistrust. Iruka might believe and trust that he wouldn't hurt him physically, but he could easily hurt him emotionally. And Iruka knew that. Maybe that was behind the self-imposed isolation, the concern about grudges and what other people were saying about him, because Iruka had been hurt before and didn't want to leave himself open to be hurt again. That wasn't right. That was the sort of thing people like Kakashi did, because it was instinctive and felt natural and right to keep the world at a distance that way. Someone like Iruka shouldn't need to go against his very nature in order to protect himself, he should be surrounded by people eager to protect him. Kakashi wasn't even the protective sort and he had felt that way shortly after meeting the man.
"Iruka," he started. But he didn't say anything else. What could he say? He couldn't promise not to hurt him emotionally. Dealing with delicate emotions was like trying to perform surgery with a sword. Even if he were capable of learning, he was bound to hurt him during the attempt.
Iruka closed his eyes and kissed him through the mask. "Take this off and kiss me, or move, please." If Kakashi had seen something in his eyes that he didn't like, it wasn't enough to make him soften. They were still good together physically. That was all that mattered. That was all they needed to keep this going, and Iruka wanted to keep this going as long as he could. He shifted his legs so he could wrap them around him as best he could. "You started this strong, Kakashi. Give me a strong finish?"
"Of course I will," Kakashi muttered. He yanked the mask down and kissed him hard, crude and demanding to express his current state, leaving it to Iruka to turn the kiss into something more sensual and hungry, which Iruka was. He let Iruka soothe his rough edges while he rocked his hips and slipped a hand between them to bring Iruka up to match him. Because Iruka had the right mindset. They both had histories, filled with unresolved issues, but now wasn't the time to delve into that. They might be a potentially painful match emotionally but the sex was too damned good to waste any opportunity they had to be together. Kakashi agreed with that. But the need to say something was still there, something that would reassure him, something honest, a promise he could keep. He pressed a kiss to each of Iruka's eyelids and then panted against his lips. "I'm never going to get enough of you."
Iruka's breath caught in his throat and he wished he could see Kakashi's face. But it was better that he couldn't. Just the sound of his voice was enough to make his eyes burn, making him glad they were closed. He told himself not to read too much into it, not to think, just to feel. The feel of Kakashi throbbing inside him, pressed closely against him, strong arms wrapped tightly around him, was more than enough. He no longer had any doubts that the sex they had together was as mind-blowing for Kakashi as it was for him. When it came to this, they were perfect for each other. "Is that a promise or a threat?" he asked. Then he grinned when Kakashi nipped him on the chin. Was that not the response Kakashi had expected? "You must know you've ruined me for anyone else. I don't know what I'll do when you get tired of me."
"That won't happen," Kakashi assured him, though he kept his tone light. If Iruka could see the look on his face he wouldn't be able to smile like that. Kakashi preferred him being able to smile like that. He took his time tasting that smile. Then he set himself to the pleasurable and addictive task of making sure Iruka really was ruined for anyone else. Because he could. Because Iruka trusted him enough, physically, to let him.
.-.
The filing room was once again an upsetting mess. At least there were no blatant footprints on the reports this time. The special jounin set to guard the area when the mission room was closed had smiled at him, thanked him for his work, and sent off a bird to inform Shizune that she didn't need to come in this morning. She had definitely spread the word about him being some sort of regular yet part-time worker. That was upsetting as well, though. Was she really coming in early every day to clean up a mess that could be prevented with just one or two full-time workers? She was Tsunade's assistant. Iruka couldn't believe Tsunade tolerated her assistant running herself ragged in her absence. Shizune probably hadn't told her just how much work she was taking upon herself. Iruka could certainly empathize with that. If Shizune believed she should be able to handle the filing room in addition to her work at the hospital then she probably considered it a personal failure that she was unable to do so. That left it up to someone else to notice and intervene on her behalf. Iruka had no problem being the one to do that. The only question was how. Should he apply to Ibiki directly, offer to go with the two men he had in mind, or encourage them to apply on their own?
Once he had cleaned up the back he ventured into the front and sat in the seat at the far end. The desk had a narrow drawer on the top, and then a row of drawers set between each of the seats. He knew from coming in often that the side drawers contained blank forms, mission reports and inquiries and probably a variety of forms he had never needed himself. That wouldn't leave much room for file folders, and certainly no place to store completed reports so they wouldn't have to make as many hurried - and messy - trips to the filing room. Maybe they could move the desk forward a bit and place receptacles on the floor between each person. Then someone could come through and collect them without disturbing those manning the desk. If that wasn't an option then a simple storage scroll for each person manning the desk would let them collect an entire night's take without any trips to the back at all except at the very end. He sighed and leaned over the desk, propping his chin in his hands. He should have thought of that sooner. That would be a simple solution and wouldn't cost anything extra. But they weren't doing it. There had to be a reason they weren't doing it, something he hadn't considered. Maybe they were worried someone might get their hands on one of those scrolls and make off with a large number of reports. But if someone was determined and skilled enough to steal a scroll off the mission desk in a room full of shinobi then they could probably slip right in the back and grab whatever they wanted.
The door opened and Iruka was reminded why he rarely came to the mission room in the mornings. He jumped up and flushed guiltily, as if he had been caught red handed. That was so ridiculous. He had just been brainstorming like Shizune had asked him to do. But he would always have some lingering guilt where the Hokage was concerned. Minato looked tired, pale, a few more lines at the corner of his eyes than he'd had the last time Iruka had been this close to him. That made him feel worse, because he couldn't imagine how hard the man's life was.
"Iruka-kun," Minato greeted, his tone surprised. He smiled as he crossed the room. "Have you decided to work here now?"
"Only in the back, Hokage-sama." He returned his smile and quickly stepped away from the chair he had been sitting in. Just like a guilty child. Definitely ridiculous. He hadn't even touched the drawers. Even if he had opened them, if he could be trusted in the back then he could certainly be trusted to look through blank forms. "Shizune-san asked me to help out a bit now and then, and to offer suggestions that might make things more organized. I was just getting a feel for things from this end. There isn't much room to change things out here."
"No," Minato agreed, "and shinobi dislike and resist change." He settled himself behind the center of the desk, his two Anbu guards taking up position in opposite corners of the room. "But if Shizune feels the need to alter things, she has my full support. It's good of you to assist her. She doesn't ask for help easily."
Iruka believed that. "I'm glad to be of assistance." He bowed in preparation for a quick and polite escape, but Minato caught his eye when he straightened up and waved at the chair beside him. Iruka froze for just a moment before accepting his fate. One look from the Hokage and he felt like a brand new genin again.
"How are you?" asked Minato. "I haven't seen you since the Chunin exam."
That was intentional, just another part of keeping his head down, which had once again backfired miserably. Really, he had to wonder why he had ever thought that would work in the first place. "I'm doing well, thank you. I'm keeping busy with missions."
"Indeed. You might have the highest number of E and D-rank missions of anyone in the village. But since your promotion you've been doing mainly solo B-rank missions."
And yet he still had only twelve C-rank team missions on his record, half of them from his first year as a genin. Iruka understood the unspoken question, but unless the Hokage asked directly he wasn't going to talk about that. "I hope to add some A-ranks soon," Iruka told him, because Minato would find out anyway. "In a supporting role on a two-man team."
Minato's eyebrows rose. "With whom?"
"Mitarashi Anko." Iruka was startled by the smile that spread across Minato's face. His first thought was that he had heard the rumors. Surely not. He was the Hokage. Surely the Hokage himself didn't waste time listening to gossip.
"I see," Minato beamed. "That could prove to be a very useful partnership for you both. Ibiki will be pleased to hear it."
"Do you think so?" Iruka asked in surprise.
"Yes. He may wish to speak with you in private, though, because he has high hopes for Anko. Afterwards I'm sure he'll agree that you're just what she needs."
"All she needs is a bit of support," said Iruka. "Anyone could provide that. I suspect she's already skilled enough to make special jounin."
"She is," Minato agreed, "but she won't apply for the rank until she's ready to do so. In the meantime she needs support from someone she trusts. She doesn't trust easily."
She trusted Raidou. And Aoba. Trust wasn't the problem, it was her need to not be indebted to anyone. She was willing to work with him because he would be getting more out of the association than she would. But if the Hokage didn't realize that then it wasn't his business to point that out. Minato placed a hand on his shoulder and he dropped his eyes with a painful blush. He didn't feel like a brandnew genin, he felt like a child again on his first day at the academy.
"Bring her home safely, Iruka-kun, and she'll do the same for you."
Iruka couldn't stop himself from looking up. He was too confounded by the implications of that. It was insulting to Anko. Of all people, the Hokage should know better. "She really doesn't need anything beyond basic support. I'll be getting far more out of this than she will."
"Perhaps," Minato smiled. "But the village needs you both. Do your best."
"I will," said Iruka. He always did.
Minato patted his shoulder and leaned close enough to murmur, "I know you will. I have high hopes for you, too."
Iruka had no idea what to make of that, but it had him feeling uncomfortable and guilty and so painfully childish. He felt himself nod. The Hokage nodded back, smiled, and released him. Iruka took his leave as quickly as he could without running. He ducked into the filing room because that door was closer than the exit. He forced himself to do another sweep to be sure he hadn't missed anything while cleaning up. That gave him time to calm himself for the walk through the mission room. The Hokage was dealing with a genin team, so Iruka was able to exit without feeling too out of place. The moment he was outside, he teleported home.
As soon as he was safe from prying eyes, he dropped to his floor and had himself a nice little panic. What the hell was that all about? Did the Hokage believe the rumors? What if he did? Did he think Iruka and Anko made a nice couple? Had he been giving his approval? His shoulders shook and he held his breath so no sound escaped. He was not going to laugh at the Hokage's expense. If the Hokage believed the rumors then that was on him, Genma, and Anko. Maybe Kotetsu, too. Iruka would just have to talk to Anko and see what she had to say about it. Maybe it had nothing to do with the rumors at all. If Ibiki did have Anko in mind for the T&I department, then maybe he knew about her difficulties finding people to work with. Iruka couldn't imagine why the Hokage would consider him a good choice when Ibiki undoubtedly had far better people to pair up with her, but Iruka had been her choice. And he was technically qualified to support her. That was probably all it was, exactly what it had seemed to be, just the Hokage approving of Anko having someone reliable to work with. Because Iruka was nothing if not reliable. He doubted there was more than one person in the entire village who would deny that.
Maybe Iruka had read more into it because he had been afraid the Hokage would ask him about Mizuki. That was foolish. The Hokage knew very well why he and Mizuki had stopped taking missions. Their jounin instructor had gone off on an A-rank mission with three chunin and none of them had returned. They had been counted among Orochimaru's casualties because it had happened at the same time a number of genin teams had vanished in the field. Many of the genin teams had stopped taking missions outside the village at that point. Instead of requesting a new instructor he and Mizuki had trained with the remaining teams in the hopes of trying their hands at the chunin exam. They had failed miserably and after a few bad clashes on Chunin-led missions Mizuki had stopped taking missions altogether. Iruka doubted he really had more E and D-ranks than anyone else in the entire village, but he had certainly spent a few years racking the number up. That was all a matter of public record. It wasn't a secret, certainly not from the Hokage himself. And it wasn't Iruka's fault. He had no reason to feel so guilty about that. If the Hokage had wanted them to resume missions outside the village he could have assigned them a new jounin instructor. Instead they had been left to their own devices and Iruka had done his best to keep them both clothed, housed, and fed by taking any genin missions he could without leaving the village. They had still made chunin. Yes, it had taken far longer than it should have, but they had done it.
There was still his glaring lack of C-rank missions, though. He could have continued taking those missions without Mizuki. The money would certainly have helped. His reasons for not attempting those missions as a genin had been foolish. He hadn't wanted to be away from the village for too long, because he had worried about what sort of trouble Mizuki might get into. He also hadn't wanted to be placed on a team led by someone he and Mizuki had worked with in the past. Foolish, irrational, and very childish thinking on his part. If the Hokage asked him directly he would admit it, but if the Hokage never asked then Iruka would happily take that embarrassing secret to his grave. It was all in the past, anyway. He wasn't avoiding C-ranks now. He had done a few since making chunin, when there was nothing better available. If someone asked for him to take part in one, he wouldn't hesitate to do so. He was only focused on the solo B-ranks because they were quicker and paid better. He was just making up for lost time.
He shoved himself up with a long sigh. He was truly hopeless, obsessing over things that didn't matter, things no one else worried about. And what had all of that obssessing gotten him? An acceptable apartment for now, money in the bank, a nice wad of handy cash, an amazing partner of convenience, a very skilled mission partner, and a hell of a lot of completed missions on his official record. Not bad, really, considering most of that had been achieved in the last three months. The only things going wrong with his life at the moment were his relationship with Mizuki and the rumors. He couldn't do anything about the Mizuki problem when he didn't even know where he was staying these days. As for the rumors, he had convinced himself just last night that he was going to stop caring about those. If the Hokage really had heard those rumors and believed them, then Iruka would just call Anko on her claim that she knew how to make rumors work for her. There should be a way to fix this, to correct the Hokage's misunderstanding without embarrassing or disappointing him. And if the Hokage hadn't heard and believed those rumors, then Iruka was fretting about a problem that didn't even exist.
Honestly, Iruka hoped Ibiki did find time to talk to him in private. Iruka could recommend those genin he had in mind for the filing room, and then maybe Ibiki could recommend a good treatment method to help him get his head straight. He would submit himself to straight-up torture if Ibiki thought it would fix whatever was wrong with him because something was definitely wrong. The Hokage himself had complimented him, smiled at him, touched him, and instead of feeling good about that he had been trying not to drown in guilt and embarrassment. And he had no reason to feel that way. That couldn't possibly be normal. It certainly wasn't right.
But he was still doing it, obsessing over something that only mattered to him. For all he knew the Hokage hadn't noticed anything unusual about his behavior. The man had probably thought he was just shy. Most people did. Sometimes Iruka wondered if he really was just shy. Shy with a touch of a paranoid thinking, trust issues, and unresolved childhood trauma. If he left out the 'shy' part he might be right up there with the jounin when it came to being messed up. But he didn't want to convince himself he was normal so he could learn to accept the way he was. He didn't like the way he was because it wasn't normal. He was going to keep right on fighting it until he figured out how to fix it. But not right now. He had work to do.
He set himself up on his livingroom floor with Anko's scrolls and a stack of blank slips. The route she had charted out would require six of those chakra sensor traps. Iruka planned to make a few extras, because they were overpowered traps that could come in very handy in a pinch. If she had told him from the start that it was a forbidden technique he would never have agreed to learn it. That was why she hadn't told him, of course. Forbidden techniques were forbidden to teach or learn, but once a person did learn one he was either dead or free to use that technique at his own discretion. Iruka had learned it without dying, so it was his now. He still felt weirdly amused and guilty about doing so. Why bother calling them forbidden techniques when there was no punishment for learning one? There was no punishment for teaching one, either, unless the student died in the attempt. Iruka understood the idea behind labelling the techniques that way, in theory, because they were potentially deadly. But lots of things were potentially deadly. Running with a kunai while drunk was potentially deadly, but no one would label that forbidden, just stupid and foolish. In his opinion the potentially deadly techniques should be considered restricted, leaving the truly immoral and nature-defying techniques to carry the forbidden label. The term forbidden would mean more that way.
.-.
Kakashi's morning visit to the memorial stone had been interrupted by an Anbu. They had a runner. The Hyuuga on night watch had spotted him slipping over the wall. The two Root guards in charge of that area had coincidentally been looking the other way. An Anbu captain, Boar, had immediately gone in pursuit, not to retrieve him but to follow and monitor his actions and ensure he didn't reenter the village. Kakashi was to track Boar down and, if the runner was on his way back to the village, help him deal with the situation the only way they could. If the Hyuuga's identification was correct then the man was a sealed Root member and there would be no questioning him.
Boar had finished the job by the time Kakashi caught up to him. That was typical. When it came to killing a Konoha shinobi, the Anbu captains preferred to be the ones to do it. The location was surprising, though. The man hadn't headed for Sound or Sand. Boar had taken him down on the edge of Mist territory.
"Who?" asked Kakashi. If the man had met up with someone then Boar should have taken that person alive, unless it was someone too strong for him to best on his own. There weren't many people that would fit that description.
"No one. He dug that up. No sign the area had been disturbed for a very long time."
Kakashi collected the small empty box and stored it away. The wood was caked with dirt and rotting to the touch. The inside might have been lined with cloth at some point, judging by the flaky bits of mold. The smell alone confirmed it had been under the ground for quite a while, buried in a seemingly random place just in case there was ever a need to dig it up. It was infuriating, yet admirable. Danzou really was experienced enough to be a respected elder, and like the rest of his generation he believed in having backups and safeguards for situations that no one should ever consider might happen, because sometimes those things did happen and his sort were ready when they did. Kakashi could only wonder how many other secrets were buried all over the place, and how many were Danzou's own secrets versus ones others had hidden which he had made a mental note of while pretending not to notice. That level of forward planning and paranoid thinking could be so useful to the village if the bastard wasn't so willing to torture and sacrifice their own people. It was ironic that this particular sacrifice was on the border of Mist. When Boar informed Danzou, the man would undoubtedly do just what Mist did when one of their own was caught and label the man a traitor who had acted on his own for reasons that had died with him. And Minato would have to accept that because they couldn't prove otherwise.
"What was inside the box?" asked Kakashi.
"A vial. He swallowed it."
Kakashi grimaced behind his mask as he accepted the blade. He couldn't see any chakra traces with the sharingan so they were going to have to dissect the poor bastard. He started on the neck while Boar opened the stomach. What a disgusting waste of a Konoha shinobi. Having to mutilate his body was just an added insult. At least the Hyuuga had been right about the identification. This traitor had no surviving kin, so there would be no family members wondering what had happened to him and why his name was never added to the memorial stone.
.-.
TBC