Abstraction
Disclaimer: This is a purely non-profit story written for entertainment purposes only. All characters of Naruto belong to their respective owners.
Author's Notes: The summary may seem a little deceptive if you feel that the order of the names represents the one who instigates the relationship, etc. I don't really look at the order; they're in that order because KakaSasu sounds a LOT better than SasuKaka. Either way, the two of them are together. Now, I don't know what Kakashi's house really looks like, so if it's totally off, then please don't be angry. This is a completely pointless fluff piece; if that sounds like your slice of pie, please stay! If you're a shota flamer, I have a fire extinguisher. A big one :)
Abstraction
It was a stifling summer day. In the clear open sky, there was not the trace of a single cloud while the sun dominated everything, casting its scorching happiness onto the poor inhabitants below. Even the ample shade of the trees seemed to shrink beneath the terror of the sun, and the cool uplifting breeze that had pervaded their lives only mere days ago seemed a thing of wild imagination.
It was under these conditions that they trained: breaths shallow and heavy, skin dank with the formation of sweat as their clothes clung almost desperately to their bodies. Tiredly, he wiped the salty fluid out of his eyes, brushing back the strands of soaked hair plastered to his forehead. He couldn't recall a summer hotter than this; every gasp for dry air was like an ignition of fire in his lungs, every movement burdened with the lead of heat. He swiped his tongue out over his parched lips, cracked from mild dehydration. Already he felt like he couldn't take another step, but he wasn't about to lose; he would not show weakness in front of his sensei.
He still couldn't fathom why he had agreed to this. On a sweltering Saturday afternoon, he would've been happy doing nothing more than sitting inside and reading a book. He wasn't fond of heat; he didn't like seeing the layers of warmth rising steadily to the sky, flushing his cheeks a burning crimson. When he was young, he had once seen an illusion through the mirage of heat waves, a terrible flash of colours and pictures before he had promptly fainted. After that incident, he had been rather wary. As he got older, a growing number of girls would take to stalking him around the village in summertime, finding his rosy cheeks a form of amusement to giggle about. This had promoted summer onto Sasuke's list of the hated (his list had been relatively short back then). It only made sense that he didn't like summer, and he had had every intention of shutting all windows and blasting the air conditioning as high as it would go. The only problem with this plan was that when he had opened his fridge door in the morning, he was met with some remarkably bare shelves. Checking the cupboards, he received the same greeting. He had frowned to himself, not remembering when or how he had finished his supply of groceries. Usually, he kept a tight inventory and would restock before anything could ever be finished. He had attributed it to the heat messing with his brain (accompanied by an adorable growl, of course), and had reluctantly set out to find something edible.
He hadn't expected to run into Kakashi. He had never run into Kakashi anywhere in the village in all his years (he wondered briefly what the jounin did for fun), so seeing him had been quite a shock to his befuddled brain. The other (bigger) shock was that his accursed book had been nowhere in sight (it made Sasuke wonder if he read it just to vex his students). When Kakashi noted with plain amusement that Sasuke looked "like a little tomato", he had glared daggers at the man. When he implied oh-so-subtly that Sasuke was probably in "no condition", of course the proud Uchiha would have to ask what the hell he was talking about.
"Well," Kakashi began rather delicately (almost too delicately, in retrospect), "I was just thinking that I'd head out to train for a bit, and I was going to ask if you'd like to come along." He eyed Sasuke closely, pretending to scrutinize him. "But seeing as how you're indisposed—"
That had pushed him over the top. "I. Am. NOT. Indisposed."
Kakashi had smiled in that disarming way of his, had asked Sasuke if he'd be interested, and all of that somehow led to their current situation: both men toiling away for hours, neither willing to relent although their bodies screamed for mercy.
Kakashi watched with delight as Sasuke's thoughts flickered briefly into his eyes. He had learnt to read those vague signs by now, and deciphered them accordingly. Admittedly, he was rather impressed that Sasuke had managed to withstand the gruelling conditions for so long, but he supposed that he should've been used to it; Sasuke would let nothing stand in the way of his pride. Perhaps it was a tad morbid that he loved to torture Sasuke; teachers weren't exactly supposed to exploit a student's weakness for their own twisted sense of fun. Having gone through this logic complex, he came out the other side with a conscience loaded with guilt. Sasuke had been tired long ago; he just liked that flushed face a little too much.
"If we keep on going like this, I think we'll both die of dehydration," he called, smiling broadly as Sasuke's defences dropped just a little. Poor boy was far too paranoid. Sasuke stared at him for a long moment, seemingly in contemplation. Kakashi hid his mirth; the dark-haired genin was proud to the very end.
"I suppose you're right," was the slightly huffy answer he received.
They ended up walking side by side in quasi-companionable silence, seemingly lost in their own private worlds. Unconsciously, Sasuke's tongue would periodically dart out to wet his dry lips as he walked, a habit that Kakashi did not fail to notice. It felt as if they were trudging through the desiccated atmosphere, bodies exhausted and minds occupied. Like death row prisoners, they marched in tune and did not speak, only acknowledging each other's presence by the sheer fact that they were cast and bound in iron. He supposed it was rather senseless that he thought of them that way.
When the first signs of civilization accosted them, he found he didn't want to let his young protégé leave. There had been something different about the way Sasuke had looked at him today; a searching kind of gaze that made him wonder. So he did the first logical thing that came to mind.
"You're welcome to stop by my place and cool off before going home," he offered casually, visible eye crinkling in a smile. "Get a drink so you don't die and all that."
He had fully expected a no (Sasuke being Sasuke and all that), but was more than pleasantly surprised when his young student replied just as casually, "Sure." Kakashi had to hide his smile.
They continued to walk (a little more briskly) through town. He noticed that Sasuke was quite obviously uncomfortable in crowds, and skirted to avoid people wherever he could. Kakashi was almost disappointed when they arrived; it had been a most enlightening experience to watch.
As he held open the door, he was suddenly apprehensive; did he bother to throw those clothes in the closet to hide them? When was the last time he had cleaned? He got the insane image of Sasuke berating him for his unseemliness, and laughed at his own thought.
"What's so funny?" Sasuke asked archly, his face an expression of amused irritation.
"Oh… nothing," Kakashi smiled, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish and rather Naruto-esque manner. "I was just thinking… well, I haven't had a house guest in…" He tried to count the years, but they slipped through the cracks like sand. "Well, a long time. I was just thinking how messy everything must seem to you…"
Sasuke sort of grunted, and settled himself on the couch. "It's not a big deal. My place is worse."
"Really?" Well, that isn't something you hear every day. "I'd have thought someone with your personality would like to keep things neat." Kakashi moved slowly into the kitchen, motioning to Sasuke to make his point clear. The head of charcoal nodded slightly.
"I can find what I want as fast as I want it; there's no point in organizing if it achieves the same result." He looked around Kakashi's place, full of curiosity; there was so much they didn't know about their teacher, and now he was getting the chance to find out first hand.
"I suppose you're right," Kakashi called. "Give me a minute, I'll be right out."
Sasuke nodded, even though there was no one to see him. Upon inspection, the place wasn't nearly as messy as Kakashi claimed. Some dust had settled, naturally, but it was presentable enough. There were pictures on the walls, lots of pictures: men and women, girls and boys. He wondered who they all were. In almost all of them, everyone is smiling. The plants around the room caught his attention as well; he had never figured Kakashi for a green freak. The mismatched furniture gave the apartment an air of homeliness, that lived-in feeling of warmth. Inside the kitchen, he could hear Kakashi working away happily, the tap on and glasses clinking together. His eye was drawn to a small black and white photograph, standing in a simple yet stately oak frame and sitting stoically on the coffee table. Inside is a man with rigid features and kind eyes, with a mop of hair as silver as Kakashi's…
"My father," a voice behind him interrupts. Embarrassed, Sasuke turns quickly to his sensei, full of apologies.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," Kakashi tells him, smiling reassuringly as he sets the two glasses on the table and picks up the picture. "It was there; you didn't do anything wrong by looking at it."
"I wasn't trying to pry," Sasuke insists, although he is curious. The air is making him feel light-headed.
"I know, Sasuke." He sets the picture face down on a shelf. "But let's not discuss that now, shall we? I believe you came here for a drink."
Kakashi motions to the glass closest to the genin, and he picks it up dutifully. He can smell the sugar and lemon, the distinct indicators of lemonade. It's tempting to put the glass to his lips, but his eyes stay on his sensei. The jounin has moved gracefully, now bending slightly to pick up his own glass. Sasuke doesn't know what comes over him next; his self-control (under normal circumstances, impeccable) falters as he reaches out a shaky hand to pull down that troublesome mask.
For an instant, neither of them breathes. A moment later he is rebuking himself, knowing he has crossed a line (but really, Kakashi would've needed to take the thing off to drink, anyway). He wishes Kakashi would say something instead of just staring at him like that, so instead he breaks the silence by letting his glass slide between his delicate fingers to slam onto the hardwood floor.
Things are literally and figuratively shattered.
"Shit!" he curses, quickly down on his knees to pick up the pieces. There's a sharp pain in his temple.
"Don't, Sasuke," Kakashi pulls him away gently. "You're going to cut yourself."
He's too distracted to care. "I'm sorry, it was stupid of me," he repeats over and over, angry and humiliated.
Kakashi leaves to get a mop, and within five minutes the mess is gone.
"I'll make you another," he says cheerfully, "and I'll put it in a plastic cup this time."
But the moment has shifted.
"You look like him," Sasuke blurts, surprised at his own rashness. Suddenly the room is a little too hot.
There is a long pause. "Yes, so I've been told. But never by you."
The last four words are like a kunai in his chest; he knows he's broken it now. What the heck came over him?
"I'm sorry," he repeats again for the millionth time. "I should leave…" He moves rapidly to the door as his vision blurs, not able to meet Kakashi's eyes.
Before he can reach his target, a hand has pulled him back. He is suddenly pulled close, into a sort of warmth that he suddenly doesn't mind.
His head is pounding as a cool hand touches his forehead. "Wait, Sasuke." Kakashi smells like fresh pine on a rainy day. "I think you've got—"
But he can't get two words out before he is silenced. Kakashi notes briefly that Sasuke's lips weren't as dry as he thought.
They stand immobile, captured in a bubble of confusion. "I think you've got heat stroke," Kakashi finishes his sentence.
"Oh," Sasuke says faintly, his legs buckling under him. The silver-haired man reaches out quickly to catch the boy before he can fall.
"It's official; let's put you to bed." He picks up the limp body.
"Hey, I c-can walk," Sasuke murmurs angrily around a yawn, eyes already closing.
"Of course you can. But this way is faster."
"Does that mean I can stay?" Sasuke asks sleepily, arms wound tight about the older man.
Kakashi's only response is another kiss, a slow burn of distant longing. He knows he shouldn't; by the next morning, Sasuke would probably be well again and wondering why the heck his sensei was kissing him.
There's a smile on Sasuke's face as Kakashi pulls away, eyes already closed. "I might break all your stuff, you know."
Kakashi laughs at the nonsensical murmuring. "Ah, we'll train you in levels. I think we'll start with rubber. Then you can move on to the plastics and ceramics."
He puts Sasuke down gently, but the genin refuses to retract his hands. He tries to pry the young fingers away softly, but to no avail.
"Sasuke, you're going to have to let go."
No response.
"Sasuke?" He's already fallen asleep.
Sighing, he realizes there's nothing he can do. He resigns himself to the unenviable task of tactfully manoeuvring himself into bed with the beautiful prodigy, being careful not to disturb him. It didn't matter; a moment later, there is a body pressed close to his, face nuzzling sensually against his chest.
All the blood in his body shot straight down to his groin.
"I hate the heat." There is a smile on those deceptive lips.
"Oh yeah," Kakashi answers, pulling the inviting warmth closer. "Definitely."
ENDAN: Ok, definitely not how it was supposed to turn out. Gah, that was weird! It was supposed to be funny and smutty. Now I have to write the fic I planned originally :S How bizarre. And the tense changed halfway through, naturally, and I like it that way. What an odd piece. That one, ladies and gentlemen, wrote itself.