Okay, so Kakashi may not have exactly been entirely unbiased about the lunches. They were usually pretty enjoyable and all, but sometimes…sometimes they just sucked. Today was one of those times.

It seemed like every attempt Kakashi made at starting conversation with Iruka was thwarted. First, it was a kid who stayed after class a whole ten minutes to ask about a bit of work they were supposed to do. It took all of Kakashi's restraint not to barge in after about the fifth minute of it, and explain, in detail, what the child could do with his goddamned conjunctions!

Next it was Gai. The moment Kakashi opened his mouth to so much as greet Iruka, the hamster-browed teacher interrupted him, launching into another one of his patented "just because you wiped the gym floor with my ass doesn't mean you win" speeches, from which there was no escape but death. Whose death was entirely negotiable, and at the time, it did bear considering. Sadly, the more logical part of his brain pointed out that maybe homicide was a little disproportionate to the goal at hand. Maybe even a little counterproductive.

Then again, I know how to make it look accidental. I have the training, his mind supplied maniacally as his hand began to twitch at his side. Luckily for Gai's sake, he ran out of gusto, and decided to go pester Kurenai, Asuma, and Raido, after receiving the glare of death the moment he so much as stepped towards Genma and Hayate's table, courtesy of the toothpick chewer himself. For some reason, Genma was always chewing on a toothpick. Always. Except for when he was making out with Hayate. He remembered the first time he walked in on that in the copy room. His reaction hadn't been as funny as Iruka's, whom he'd been with at the time. Said teacher turned about the color of a cherry, excused himself fervently, and all but dashed down the hall. Kakashi, on the other hand, gave Genma a thumbs up, and more calmly went to go make sure his favorite teacher hadn't gone into shock or something.

Wait, where was he. Oh yes, the infuriatingly diabolical, universal plot to keep him from a single, day brightening conversation with the holder of his heart.

Once Gai was out of the picture, things finally seemed to be going his way. No, better! Iruka was heading his way!

"Kakashi-sensei," he greeted, a smile on his beautifully tan face.

"Iruka-sensei," Kakashi returned casually, fighting hard to resist the urge to steal Iruka away to a room to prevent any further interruptions. "How was class?" Kakashi asked as they retreated to one of the tables in the corner of the teacher's lounge. The way the room was set up, there was one large table, mainly for meetings, and the rest of the space was filled with a kitchenette, complete with refrigerator, a number of couches (occupied then by Kurenai, Asuma, Gai, and Raido), and two smaller tables over on the side between the back of one of the couches and the wall.

Iruka blushed as he sat at the table, lunch in hand, and hoped that Kakashi wouldn't notice. He was still playing that over in his head, over and over again – how Kakashi had come in to save him from his maniacal tenth grade English class like a knight in shining armor.

Okay, maybe that was being a little dramatic, but honestly, Iruka wondered if a fire-breathing dragon might actually be preferable to that particular group of kids…

"Earth to Iruka-sensei," Kakashi said, whistling as he waved a hand in front of the spacey teacher's face. Iruka quickly snapped out of his reflection, a blush once again coloring his face.

Cute, Kakashi thought, smiling a little to himself. He would be perfectly content if the blush never left Iruka's face. He was, for lack of a better word, adorable when he was flustered. Of course, Kakashi would never intentionally try to get the teacher embarrassed just so that he could see those caramel cheeks redden. Nope, never…

Great, now I'm zoning out, Kakashi thought, smoothly shifting his focus back just in time to catch Iruka's response.

"Much better," he said, cheeks still, to Kakashi's amusement, a rosy red. "Thank you, by the way. For helping me out. They aren't usually that bad, really, I guess they were just especially rambunctious today." He felt almost as if he needed to apologize for his student's poor behavior. Instead though, knowing full well that Kakashi would accept no such apology, he avoided any awkwardness by turning his attention to the bento box in front of him. He wasn't terribly hungry, and he had certainly over packed. Then again, he always over packed. He never knew when Naruto, who was very nearly like a son to him, would forget his lunch or just need something extra to munch on. A fed Naruto, after all, was a good Naruto. Well, at least it was a marginally less unbearable one.

Kakashi watched as Iruka carefully set out his food. For some reason, the teacher never ate out of the actual bento box. The rice was always in a separate little bowl, and he always shifted the food to a plate, and only half of it at that. Then again, if Iruka was able to eat as much food as he packed in his lunch every day, Kakashi would have to start seriously questioning the laws of physics he taught so often.

Kakashi himself was content to sip at a glass of orange juice. He would probably grab a bite to eat later or something, he just didn't feel like getting a lunch together that morning, and he definitely didn't feel like going out to get one.

Suddenly, a rice ball appeared on a small plate in front of him. He looked up, and saw Iruka smiling at him.

This was, of course, always a welcome third option. Iruka over packed. Always. And because of his unrelentingly kind nature, he always wanted to share. Normally, that was with Naruto, but it seemed that the blonde had actually made his own lunch that day. That left Iruka with lots of left overs.

Kakashi accepted the rice ball with a thank you and took an experimental bite of it. As he expected, Iruka's cooking was as good as ever. No, not good. Amazing. But Kakashi wasn't surprised. He was willing to bet that even toast tasted better when Iruka did it.

"You like it?" Iruka asked. He didn't know why he was so nervous all of the sudden. He'd shared with Kakashi hundreds of times, and every time, it always ended with Kakashi wolfing down anything Iruka offered him with that goofy, yet somehow still incredibly sexy smile of his.

Kakashi nodded, grin stretching across his face as he, as predicted, wolfed down the rest of the rice ball. Iruka laughed, and divvied out a portion for Kakashi from his oversized meal. Kakashi bowed dramatically, thanking Iruka again around a mouth full of tempura. Iruka smiled at the younger teacher across the table as he picked at his own food. Even though he had already established in his head that they were close friends, Iruka wanted more. Sure the silver-haired teacher talked to him all the time, ate lunch with him, spent time in his class during planning, and popped up at other random intervals in the day. Sure he spent more time with Iruka than anyone else it seemed. Sure Kakashi's smile seemed to grow every time he saw Iruka.

That didn't mean anything. Iruka wanted more. He wanted Kakashi to be more than his friend, and everything he listed could fall into that category. Which is why he was torn. That was probably all Kakashi saw him as, and he didn't want to ruin everything by making a move. It was better to be friends than have the teacher avoid him for the rest of forever. That, Iruka didn't think he could bear.

So he kept his mouth shut, and enjoyed what he had, all the while wishing that they could be more.

Kakashi watched the sensei as his smile turned into a contemplative frown. He was spaced out. Well, that, or there was something on the wall behind him that required very intense concentration.

Deciding to have a little fun, Kakashi edged closer to Iruka until there were mere inches between their faces. With a smile, he opened his mouth, and whispered, "see something interesting, Iruka-sensei?"

Iruka jumped like he'd been shot, and then gaped for a second, before finally deciding on a response and jumping back in his seat. A well placed foot of Kakashi's on the leg of the tan sensei's chair was the only thing that kept him from toppling backwards, which though it was an impossibly cute mental image, Kakashi had the feeling that it wouldn't be terribly appreciated. "Kakashi, you frightened me," Iruka gasped. Kakashi almost grinned. Iruka had dropped the honorific, and though just a minor difference, Kakashi loved the way his name sounded this way rolling off Iruka's tongue.

"My apologies Iruka-sensei. You were looking very focused and I wondered what about," Kakashi said, his face a picture of innocence. He definitely hadn't wanted to see that delectable little blush of Iruka's spread across his face like it was not.

Of course not…

Iruka felt so silly. So, so silly.

In fact, he went through the rest of the day feeling silly. Like a hormonal teenager or something. I am an adult! Iruka thought angrily. I need to act like one! Of course, that would mean telling the man that he was madly in love with that he was, in fact, madly in love with him.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't quite that brave. But he could at least cement something with the teacher. He had to at least know what he was to Kakashi, even if he could never honestly tell Kakashi what he was to him.

Resolve firmly in place, Iruka waited until the dismissal bell rang out, and all of his class filed out of the room. He gave it a few minutes, going over what to say again and again in his head, until finally the noise from the hallway had died down. Now he only had to hope that the other teacher hadn't left already.

He left his classroom, heart thudding against his ribs, and walked to the classroom next to it. Sure enough, Kakashi was sitting inside, hunched over his desk, scratching a pen across a paper. His pen.

Suddenly his courage left him and Iruka turned to leave quickly, but he was stopped. "You can come on in, Iruka-sensei. I promise I don't bite," the slate-eyed man laughed. For the umpteenth time that day, Iruka felt his face heat up, but he forced himself to go inside.

It wasn't until he was standing right by Kakashi's desk that the other sensei looked up. "You look like you have something on your mind," Kakashi observed, leaning back in his chair and staring up at Iruka with a single, piercing gray stair.

Yeah, Iruka's inner voice chimed, you! Iruka beat that voice down quickly though, with the mental equivalent of a big stick. "Kakashi-sensei, can I ask you a question?"

"Only if you promise just to call me Kakashi," the teacher replied, his face completely serious. Iruka stammered. "Relax, Iruka, I was only joking with you." It escaped Iruka's flustered notice that Kakashi himself had dropped the honorific. "Ask away," he said, spreading his arms.

Iruka nodded and steeled himself. "Kakashi-sensei, how do you think of me?" he blurted out.

Kakashi raised a single silver eyebrow. "How do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean what do you think of me. What am I to you?"

Kakashi was taken aback by the question. That was awfully forward of the teacher. He looked nervous. His face was redder than Kakashi had seen it before, and his eyes were a little wide.

Kakashi stood up and stood closely in front of Iruka.

Iruka gulped.

Slowly, Kakashi pressed his hand to the side of Iruka's blushing face.

Iruka stared.

Kakashi opened his mouth to speak, and Iruka could feel his heart leap into his chest.

"Doesn't feel like a fever," he said at last.

Iruka could have died, right then. All that build up, and the only thing Kakashi had deduce was that Iruka probably didn't have a fever?!

"Kakashi! I was being serious!" Iruka shouted.

Well, it was worth a try, Kakashi thought. He'd been hoping to avoid any awkwardness. Now that that particular plan hadn't played out so well, he figured he'd just have to try a different approach. Dropping his hand back to his side, he sighed.

"Alright then, in all seriousness, Iruka, you are one of the few people I can truly stand to be around for any length of time."

"Gee, thanks," Iruka muttered smartly.

"I wasn't done yet," Kakashi defended. "It's more than that. I actually like being around you. I like talking to you, I like listening to you, I like knowing you. I just like you, Iruka, and I don't say that about a lot of people. You are one of the closest people to me," Kakashi told him, his eyes and voice soft but steady, "and I'd die for you in a second."

Iruka blinked. That had been a lot more than he had been expecting. Maybe a "we're friends" or something, but not that. That was deep. And, for some odd reason, it made him feel really…giddy. He felt special now. Like he was part of an exclusive club. And the best part was that he knew that Kakashi hadn't been lying. He didn't know how he knew, he just knew.

"I'm glad you see me that way," Iruka managed finally, a smile on his face. They didn't say anything for a while after that, and suddenly things got very awkward. Iruka cleared his throat. "Well, I should probably get home. I have a lot of papers to grade," he excused himself lamely. Kakashi smiled and nodded, waving as the blushing sensei hurried out of the room.

It was only once he was outside in the car that Iruka realized something that annoyed him to absolutely no end.

Despite all of the sweet praised Kakashi had lain on him when they'd spoken, the one thing he'd gone in for – a straight answer, that is – was the one thing in particular that he had left without.

Swearing lightly, he turned the key in his Jeep, pulling out of school parking lot. If he'd waited just a second longer, he would've seen a very smug looking Kakashi straddle his bike and take off.

Dodged that bullet, Kakashi thought as he sped towards home.