Disclaimer: I don't own.
A/N: Another unplanned update.
Iruka toes his sandals off as he entered his apartment, dark eyes skimming over the living room and kitchen. Everything was where it had been this morning and the night before. There were no signs that more often then not he had a mentally unstable Jounin with abandonment issues living with him.
Kakashi had not drugged him again since the first night not had he tried to mark him. In fact, it seemed the silver haired man had calmed down and was more at ease then ever. On the nights he wasn't on a mission Kakashi would show up at his apartment with his orange book and sprawl out on the couch to read while Iruka made dinner.
Periodically the Jounin would bring dinner with him by they never went out. Rumors spread like wildfire through the village and neither of them could afford to have people talk about them.
Setting the stack of papers on a small table next to the door Iruka shrugged his vest off and hung it on a hook by the door before making his way to the kitchen. He added rice and water to a pot and turned the heat on before pulling a bowl of chicken out of the fridge that had been marinating since the morning. As he cut the meat into thin strips he allowed his mind wander back to his unusual companion.
After dinner Kakashi would clean up, allowing Iruka to get started on the homework that needed to be graded. Once the kitchen was spotless the older man would make his way back to the living room, orange book in hand.
It hadn't taken Iruka long to realize that the Jounin's day greatly influenced what the man wanted. On a normal day the silver haired man would simply sprawl on the couch behind him to read, occasionally reaching out to touch his back or neck.
After missions, especially when killing was involved Kakashi would curl around him, stomach pressed to his lower back as he stared into space. On those days Iruka would set his grading aside for a time and talk to the older man about the antics of his students, fingers combing through the coarse silver hair.
Those nights Kakashi would suffer from nightmares and Iruka would consider himself lucky if he got four hours of sleep. All in all, he was growing used to the Jounin presence, even if he had thrown his life into a blender.
"You shouldn't be thinking of other things while using a sharp object."
Iruka paused for a moment as a long warm body pressed against his back, dry lips brushing against his neck. "Good evening Hatake-san. And I can think and handle a knife just fine. The problem is the wild Jounin who sneaks up on me."
The lips trailed across his neck again with the barest him of teeth following. "It's been nearly five months Iruka. Please stop calling me Hatake-san. I'm not that much older than you."
"As you wish Kakashi-san." When he felt the body behind him tense he craned his head back until he could see the single visible eye. "Please don't push me."
Silence reigned for several seconds before Kakashi dipped his head, rubbing his masked cheek against the younger man's face. "Of course. I'll leave you to your cooking."
They ate dinner in silence like usual, though it felt different, as if something had changed between them.
Iruka traced the pattern of waves on his bowl with his eyes until he heard the telltale sounds of Kakashi setting his chopsticks aside and fixing his mask. He got to his feet and picked his dishes up, intent on putting them in the sink like always when a bony hand closed around his wrist. "Yes Kakashi-san?"
The silver haired man stood and took the dishes with his free hand. "Go grade your papers. I'll clean up."
Lowering his head in acknowledgement the Chunnin went into the living room and snagged the pile of homework off the table. With a sharp tug he freed his hair from its confinement, sighing as the headache building behind his eyes started to ease. He settled in front of the low table in the living room and pulled his red pen from the drawer on the table.
It wasn't hard to get lost in grading papers. For the most part it seemed his students all got the same questions wrong and between the scratch of his pen on paper and Kakashi's low whistling he found himself drifting off.
Strong hands dropped to his shoulders and thumbs dug into the base of his neck, masterfully driving away the stiffness. He leaned forward, hair falling around his face to allow the magic hands more room to roam.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed when Kakashi finally pulled away. Rolling his shoulders he straightened up and glanced over his shoulder. The Jounin was on his knees behind him, hands folded loosely in his lap. "Thank you Kakashi-san. That felt wonderful."
"You're welcome Iruka." When the dark haired man returned to his work Kakashi took his vest off and tossed it on the couch. After a moment of debate he also removed his hitai-ate, careful to keep the Sharingan closed. Shifting his weight he unfolded his legs and leaned back against the couch, eyes on his companion.
Iruka was hunched over the table, pen scribbling away on the stack of papers. He could tell by the set of the younger man's shoulders that despite the brief backrub he was still in pain.
Making a decision he reached out, hands cupping Iruka's elbows as he pulled him back to rest against his chest. "Can you work like this?"
The dark head nodded and much to Kakashi's surprise it seemed to him that Iruka had moved closer.
"Good." He buried his face in the soft dark strands that smelled of cinnamon, content to simply hold the man.