Disclaimer: If you're still reading this, then you know I'm not Kishimoto. Consequently, I do not own Naruto or it's characters.
Last time: Iruka had another lazy day. Not only did he enlist Anko's help on his mission to prove Genma wrong, but he spent the whole day chillaxing and having fun with . . . . Kakashi. Wait, what? Kakashi again? And someone is having daydreams now, and giving themselves handjobs—what happened to the good old days where it was just wetdreams?
Author's note: There is a reason why Iruka uses the honorifics he does. He dropped them with Gai easily because Gai is extroverted and they were both willing to be friends. He is slowly moving towards no honorifics with Kakashi, but there are underlying factors that are making it slow progress, and they will be revealed later. So if the honorifics are wishy-washy, it's because I want that feeling of uncertainty between the two—a tentative friendship vibe. Sorry if it bugs anyone!
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Iruka looked through his clothes. Should I even change? I mean, we spent the afternoon together so he's obviously seen me already. But . . . . Oh, what the hell, they're new and I want to try them out. Plus, this is why I've got them, isn't it? Plus, Kakashi-san helped me picked them out, so it's like I'm showing I appreciate the help. Right?
Iruka shook his head and walked away from his closet. He got all the way out of his room and then turned back and grabbed one of his new outfits from the rack. Oh, why the hell not?!
The outfit was simple, liked Iruka preferred them and comfortable, but they were just . . . . more than his usual attire. Genma had criticised his old jeans and worn-out t-shirt? Well, then he should get a look at these jeans and this t-shirt.
Iruka thought back to his usual jeans and t-shirts. Most of his jeans were light wash or were faded enough to pass for light denim and they were comfortably worn in. His t-shirts were all loose fitting and light coloured too, as Iruka had always thought the white and lighter greys and blues showed off his tan skin nicely. His new outfit, however, was much darker and, looking in the mirror, he had to admit that Genma had at least been right about him putting in more effort. However, contrary to Genma's opinion that he couldn't be sexy, he thought he looked pretty damn good, mmhm. The jeans were dark-wash skinny jeans, snug enough to show off Iruka's (great) ass, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable. The t-shirt, however, was very snug fitting, and, considering Iruka's shinobi physique, it showed off a lot of sexy muscle. It was just a plain black crewneck though, so it was still super-comfy.
Iruka had undone his hair as soon as he'd gotten home. He usually wore it loose in the comfort of his own home, or at least in a low hanging ponytail. He considered putting it up in his usual high ponytail to head over to Kakashi's, but he decided against it in favour of comfort. He pulled the loose strands into a low ponytail tied at the nape of his neck and hanging down his back, just past his shoulders.
Ready, Iruka left his apartment and locked up behind himself. He tucked his baking box under his arm (he was, after all, polite to a fault and thought it rude to show up without a gift for the host). Knowing Kakashi didn't like sweets, Iruka had prepared a lemon tart with a dark chocolate drizzle. It was still sweet enough to be a dessert, but it was laced with the acidic tang of the lemon and the bitter richness of the dark chocolate syrup. He hoped the man would enjoy it.
After a brisk walk (it was getting chillier out), Iruka finally made it to the jounin apartment complex where Kakashi lived. He stood there a moment. He knew the jounin lived here, he had read it in his file in the missions room once . . . . or twice, or . . . . Well, that didn't help him now. He pondered for a minute, then glanced up to the balconies. Of course! He was a ninja, dammit!
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Kakashi was working at the stove, patiently waiting for Iruka. He knew Iruka wouldn't be late, he was too polite to be. It was five to seven already, so Kakashi knew he should probably leave the stir-fry to simmer and head down to the lobby. After all, he didn't remember giving Iruka his address, much less his lobby passcode. How does he even know where I live?
Kakashi was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a rapping at what he thought was the door. He looked up, grinning as he caught a look at Iruka through the window. "Taking a leaf out of my book, sensei? I thought you didn't approve?"
Iruka grinned back as he slid in through the window Kakashi had just unlatched. "Well, Kakashi-sensei, I must say that I do prefer doors, but I had no way of getting to yours, unless I picked the lobby lock."
"I see. We can't have that, now can we? A respectable Academy sensei, going around picking people's locks." Kakashi shook his head and chuckled.
Ever the polite one, Iruka slipped his shoes off, not even letting them touch the floor. Kakashi backed off to allow Iruka to head to the door and leave his shoes there when he noticed Iruka's outfit. "You're wearing your new clothes."
"Oh," Iruka looked down, "yes."
"They look nice."
"Thank you, Kakashi-sensei."
"What's that?" Kakashi pointed at Iruka. Iruka looked down at himself again.
"Wha—oh!" Iruka held the box out to Kakashi. "These are for you. I know you don't like sweets, so . . . . I mean, it's a dessert but you don't have to . . . . It's just that, I thought it would be nice if . . . . Well, I didn't want to be ru—"
Kakashi cut off Iruka's rambling with a smile. He knows I don't like sweets? "Thank you, Iruka." Could he? Kakashi shook his head to clear it and accepted the box. "I'm sure they're delicious. After all, you made them with care." And maybe . . . . more? He tried to shake it off again, but missed part of what Iruka was saying.
"—m sorry, but if I could, um, may I use the washroom? I would just like to wash my hands . . . . As you know, I climbed your building, and so—"
Kakashi cut him off, "Yes, yes, of course. I only have the one though, it is down at the end of the hall and just through my bedroom."
If it was possible, Iruka looked even more flustered than he had just a minute ago. "Through your bedroom?" If Kakashi didn't now any better, he would say Iruka was nervous, he had all but squeaked that last word.
Iruka turned and headed towards the back of the apartment. Shit, Kakashi thought, I hope he doesn't see what's on my nightstand. Or, if he does, that he doesn't get. Pshhft! Like he wouldn't, he's too smart not to make the connection. Kakashi looked towards his room. Should I? Nah, too late. He headed back towards the kitchen, opening the edge of the box and smelling the pastry. Oh! Mmmm . . . . He closed the box, placing it on the counter for later. I could try to placate him. I wonder what he's like when he's had a little to drink? Kakashi smiled. He rooted around one of his cupboards, finally locating a good bottle of sake.
Meanwhile, Iruka was heading down the hall, quietly taking stock of Kakashi's apartment. His apartment was very bland and plain. All of the walls were white, with no pictures or art hanging. There wasn't even much furniture—it was minimalist at best and sparse if Iruka told the truth. Then he got to Kakashi's bedroom, and really, he was trying not to be nosy, but it had a lot more character than the rest of the house. Right outside the door, there were actually four pictures on the wall, one of what looked like Kakashi's old team, with the Yondaime as his jounin-sensei, but Iruka had already known that. Then there was, surprisingly enough, one of Team 7 and finally, one that looked like a very young Kakashi with two people who must be his parents. Finally, and Iruka just had to laugh and shake his head at this one, a signed picture of Jiraiya and Kakashi.
In the room itself, Iruka noticed decadent bedding and solid wood furniture. He also noted the beautiful piece above a mantle and hearth. He blushed, realising that he probably shouldn't be taking too long and quickly made his way into the washroom. He washed his hands and returned to the living area.
Kakashi was on the couch, facing away from the hall. He heard as Iruka approached from behind, and he turned, extending a warmed glass of sake in offering. Iruka smiled, taking the cup and joining Kakashi on the couch.
"Thank you, Kakashi-sensei." He ducked his head in acknowledgment. Kakashi eye-smiled.
"Maa, sensei, don't worry about it. I'm glad you came. Dinner is ready, I just thought we could share a drink first."
"Thank you, Kakashi-sensei." Iruka sipped the sake, enjoying the warm and slow burn as the drink slid down his throat and to his stomach.
Kakashi had already had two shots, taking them cold and really quickly before Iruka had gotten back. He wasn't the most social creature, and he had wanted to be a bit looser and relaxed. As they continued to sip, they fell into a comfortable silence.
"Oh, Kakashi-sensei, I didn't mean to be nosy, but I thought that the antique clock in your room was beautiful."
"Oh, the one above the fireplace? Thank you, sensei, it belonged to my grand-parents." Thank goodness he didn't see the glass dolphin. I don't know how I could have explained that away. Oh, Iruka-sensei, I just bought it because it reminded me of you. Kakashi almost snorted, but remembered he had company and covered it with a small cough into his cup.
Iruka nodded, "Well, it's exquisite."
Kakashi smiled. He downed the last of his drink and motioned towards the kitchen. "Shall we?"
Iruka nodded, finishing off the last of his own drink. He got up and followed Kakashi around the couch and into the kitchen.
The conversation was good and Kakashi made sure their drinks (especially Iruka's) were bottomless. Iruka was polite as ever, being just as careful not to see Kakashi's face as he had been at breakfast the other day. Kakashi appreciated the gesture, really, he did, because not everyone was as kind and understanding about his compulsive need to wear the mask. Still, a part of him railed against that and he couldn't help but want Iruka to want to see his face. He tried, subtly, on more than one occasion to make Iruka look up, but the man truly was polite to a fault. Kakashi sighed. Plan B. More sake. He got up from the table and retrieved the dessert box that Iruka had brought over. He had put his mask back up, not wanting to make Iruka any more uncomfortable, so Iruka had made eye contact again. He was rather pink, Kakashi noted to himself, for a moment feeling guilty at trying to get the man drunk. Kakashi waved the box in question and Iruka smiled.
"Dessert?"
"I wasn't sure if you'd enjoy it, Kakashi-sensei, but I'd be glad if you tried." Iruka smiled.
"Maa, sensei, I'm happy you thought of me. Besides, I snuck a peek earlier and got a whiff of the most decadent chocolate smell. I'm sure I'll enjoy it."
Kakashi placed it on the table, turning towards the cupboards again and rooting around for another bottle of sake, guilt making reappearance with a vengeance. I shouldn't be doing this. I don't want to mess this up. Not now, not with him. I'll only get one chance at this. Then Iruka was suddenly beside him, carrying the empty dishes and placing them in the sink. Iruka, slightly tipsy, accidentally brushed against Kakashi, then leaned into the touch trying to keep his balance. As electricity shot through Kakashi from his hip, shoulder and arm where Iruka was partially draped over him, he lost all conscious thought and the guilt vanished. He smiled, handing Iruka two smaller plates and guided him back to the table.
Iruka placed the plates and Kakashi set down the box and sake, casually sliding his seat around the table to sit next to Iruka, rather than across from him. Iruka, still seemingly a little fuzzy from the alcohol, didn't appear to notice.
As Kakashi served the dessert, Iruka glanced up at him, being careful not to get caught. He knew that he was bordering on inebriated, but he had never been an extreme drunk, rather, he was fairly lucid and hadn't ever blacked out. He also knew that when tipsy, his prankster side, kept at bay by his professional persona when sober, often showed itself and his inhibitions were far lower.
Is that a good thing, or a bad thing? He glanced at Kakashi again, wondering if the man was getting him drunk on purpose. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? But more importantly, am I still sober enough to care right now? He watched Kakashi again, watched as another glass of sake was placed before him and as the gooey dark chocolate dripped down the sides of the sunny and aromatic lemon tart. Nope. Don't care right now. He grabbed his fork and smiled a t Kakashi.
It was only when he'd already impaled his first bite of dessert that Iruka noticed something was wrong. At first, he assumed Kakashi was hesitant because he thought the tart might be sweet, but he realised quickly that in his tipsy haste to be polite and help clean up, he had also cleared away Kakashi's fork. He glanced at his hand.
"I haven't bitten it yet, I could give you my fork?"
Kakashi smiled. Perfect opportunity. "I don't mind sharing."
Kakashi took Iruka's hand in his own, not breaking eye contact the entire time. As he pulled Iruka's hand closer to his mouth, he also brought his hand up to his face. Before Iruka could figure out what was going on (and before he could chicken out himself) Kakashi yanked down his mask and took the fork into his mouth.
Oh my! It smelled good, but WOW! "Ohhh, ohhh! Mmmm, mmmm."
Iruka, too tipsy to be anything but entranced the entire show, just stared at Kakashi. If Kakashi could read minds, he would have been very interested to know what was going on inside his guest's head.
Face.
His face.
That sound.
Sinful sound.
Oh my gawsh.
Face. Handsome face.
Sound. Sexy sound.
Oh, my—
The fork clattering to the table was all the warning Kakashi got before Iruka was practically in his lap, one hand around the wrist that had brought the fork to his mouth, the other in the vicinity of his neck, smashing his lips to the other man's. Kakashi sucked in a shocked breath as lemon cream and dark chocolate was crushed onto his tongue as Iruka's invaded his mouth, smearing the dessert even further into his mouth. He moaned into the kiss, shoving his chair back and grabbing Iruka round the waist, jerking him onto all the way onto his lap so that Iruka was straddling him. Then he sucked hard on Iruka's tongue, digging his fingers into Iruka's hips as the other moaned and pushed his body farther down into Kakashi's. So much better than my imagination. Holy shit, so much better!
Suddenly, Kakashi was yanked up by Iruka's hand fisted in his shirt as he stumbled off of Kakashi's lap and pulled them back towards the table so that he was leaning on it and Kakashi was pressed tightly up against him. Both of Iruka's arms were around Kakashi's neck now, nails scratching at the nape, up through silver hair and back down again, over and over, creating deliciously rough friction. The younger shinobi was moaning and yanking at Kakashi's shirt.
TBC . . . .
