Title: Empty
Genre: angst
Characters: KakashixIruka Comments: Once again, the angst plot-bunny has bit me on the rear, hard
Status: One-shot, complete
Iruka puts a hand over his ears, knees drawn up to his chest and mouth moving rapidly, like a chant, but there are no words. The only thing that can squeeze past his lips are small sounds, but he doesn't care, because he doesn't really hear them anyway. He can't hear the small sounds over the yelling, over the slurred words and the sickening crack that rings through the house as a foot connects with ribs. He knows it wont do any good as the chants spill out faster, but never rise above mere whispers. Because Iruka knows that even if he's sitting in a corner of his darkened room, trembling and chanting behind a locked door, all he needs to hear is one muffled sob, before big, calloused hands grab roughly at small, delicate limbs, and the scar across his nose hasn't quite healed yet….
On the other side of town, Kakashi sits quietly in his chair, the glow of a nearby lamp casting an almost sickly light across the white and crisp pages of his book. Blue eyes are downcast, but not quite focused on the words. Instead, his gaze bores into the two occupants of the nearby room, the inspection of their faces and body language having become almost second-nature to him. Though their positions are carefree, and a light tone is evident in their voice, an individual's smile doesn't quite reach those empty eyes, and Kakashi remembers again his resolve to never give out one of those fake, deceiving smiles. Because even if his eyes never quite tell the truth, a single chestier grin won't be seen through the dark-clothed mask….
They both know that what they have isn't really love, but nothing more than empty promises ushered between or during sex. And truth be told, neither one really cares, because their each lost in a world that doesn't quite exist, with people that aren't there anymore, and voices that they can no longer hear.
Iruka is lost in memories of his mother before bruises and cuts started appearing on dark flesh, and fantasies where his father at least pretended to love him, strong arms wrap around him and pull him closer, just like the silver-haired jounin is doing right now, and does every time Iruka smiles, even if they are never real. Kakashi is lost in memories of the thing he once called a family, of dreams where his father would give him a soft and tender smile that never reached empty eyes, just like the one's the brown-haired chuunin always gives him, and does every time Kakashi hugs and holds him, even if he never really means them.
And so Iruka smiles for the touch, and Kakashi hugs and holds him for the smiles. But the gestures are never real, the sentiments never meant for each other. And they both know this, realized it from the moment it all began, but if they can continue to live in their dreams and fantasies for just a little longer, feel a hint of happiness, however imaginary it may be, why should they care about small things like truth?