Day 7: Personal chemistry

As the gradually increasing noises that swept through the once silent streets put an end to the withdrawing night, the citizens of the hidden village of Konoha once more indulged themselves in their morning routines. As on the countless mornings before, the children ran down the streets towards their schools or dashed for the favorite toy before being swept back to the breakfast table, as the adults, both civilian and shinobi alike, after more or less well-rested nights, set their minds towards the dawning day and its obligations, with more or less enthusiastic moods.

With her village in the hands of the capable subordinates, the blond woman sighed tiredly as her body sunk under the warm water. The creases on her face softened and her mind pushed the last night's worry and fear away as she knew all to be more or less in order in the small light gray house a few blocks away from her quarters...

...where an abrupt sneeze escaped the dark-skinned shinobi who was curled on his bed.

The dark eyes peeled slowly open and scanned the surroundings warily through the sleepy haze as the drowsy man sniffed tiredly and rubbed his itching nose. He felt warm and content, which was a bit odd, since he didn't usually feel as such when having slept in his bed. That and he had also apparently slept very heavily, that also something he usually wasn't either capable of achieving or downright avoiding out of pure instinct. His sleepy mind dismissed the otherwise alarming clues concerning his current situation as a tiny yawn tore out of his mouth and his eyes fell shut, not that he resisted one bit as his limp body felt obliged to offer him a valid argument for staying in bed. Opting to lull himself back to the delightful new-found world of sleeping like a log, the academy sensei took in a deep, content breath and stretched his arms while he rolled onto his other side with yet another yawn stretching the sun-kissed jaw -

Only to choke in surprise and roll hastily back over to the other direction, and thus, in all his disoriented and ungraceful glory, the tanned man fell promptly out his bed with a dull thump. Regretfully, his mind hadn't been yet awake enough to supply him with the thought of having already slept on the edge of his futon, therefore there not being any more of the mattress left on the side he had retreated in order to get away from the unknown, large warm object that had contacted with his body. Hindsight had never been his cup of tea.

While growling and cursing under his breath due to the ego-bruising encounter with the hardwood floor, the dark-haired shinobi whipped his spinning head back up to give a better scowl at what exactly had the suicidal nerve to infiltrate his personal space.

...Which happened to be a snoozing jounin.

The perplexed chuunin stared long and hard at the napping form of a silver-haired male spread very cozily on the bed, the masked man having hogged up almost over half of the narrow mattress with his lean limbs stretched out in every direction available. Slowly, Iruka picked himself up from the floor and sat down cross-legged to face the lightly snoring elite snuggled up on the wrong futon. The pair of dark eyes narrowed into thin, ominous slits as the recent occurrences were slowly put into their places in the chuunin's gradually awakening head.

Collapsing chakra pathways.

Frenzied elements.

Slapping Hokages.

Instructions to take better care of themselves.

Despite counting the happened facts several times it still didn't add up to explain why the heck there was a jounin in his bed.

An almost silent, wide yawn stretching the dark fabric snapped the teacher's attention back at the slumbering nuisance, who seemed to make it his case to conquer the whole bed now that the chuunin wasn't occupying his side of it. The pale arms and legs stretched out gracefully before settling into more comfortable angles all over the bed, a tiny content huff of breath leaving the masked lips. It appeared that the infamous man of thousand jutsus was also a master in the art of bed-snatching.

At least the man didn't kick in his sleep.

The teacher glared hard at the slumbering figure and tried to form a plan to make the man bolt away from his linen. Of course, he knew their beds were given by their Hokage and were used only until the mission ended, but Iruka was a man with a rather strict sense of marking and guarding his belongings, even if only temporarily. Something one seemed to develop after having his bag rigged more than thrice in one week by mini-nins at the beginning of the teaching career. The dark eyes turned to regard the jounin's side of the room, the now fully functioning mind categorizing and examining the seen property. He could go with the classical case of boxed-up porn, but there was no guarantee for Kakashi to wake up enough to really understand that Iruka wasn't a missing-nin out to make the man's life miserable. They didn't carry any weapons with them when they entered the house, but based on his experiences during their acquaintance, Iruka was already fairly well informed on what the silver-haired sleepy-ass was capable of. That man could undoubtedly kill even with a single strand of pubic hair if motivated hard enough, and Iruka was certain that his ego couldn't handle his last glimpse of the living world being a thick, curly piece of hair struck in any vital points of his body.

That would be an embarrassing reason to haunt people later on.

Messing with the man's masks was definitely out of the question as well, if the previous incident was considered. Besides, the teacher didn't want to anger the other the first thing in the morning, since, as annoying as the thought was, Iruka had started to enjoy very much the mornings they spent together. Not that they ever could leave the snippy comments and jabs out of their communication, but for them at least trying to have a civil conversation over breakfast for more than ten minutes seemed to suffice well enough. An exasperated sigh left the dark lips and Iruka's body slumped in a deflated manner as he faced his defeat on the matter. There was nothing he could legally do to claim his bed back, and there was no way for him to climb next to the faintly snoring man, or even worse, use the pervert's bed to continue sleeping. Kami knew what the porn-driven lecher had done under the covers. On that thought the teacher felt his cheeks and ears set on a fiery blush and he shook his brown-haired head vigorously in order to discard the suddenly surfaced lewd and disturbing images out of his head. What the jounin did in his bed wasn't for him to speculate, nor for his vivid imagination to fill in the blanks.

Kotetsu and his hyper-hormonal horny hoard of buddies were clearly rubbing it off on him.

The dark eyes regarded once more the evenly breathing figure, noting the slightly rumpled dark clothes on the pale body and the subtly wrinkled mask tilted a bit askew on the pale face, as well the pair of closed eyes behind the mussed, silvery mane. Iruka's brows furrowed as he spotted the almost invisible tension on the man's face. It might be that the man was still very worn out, since he hadn't even reacted to the unmasked presence near his head nor the quite loud awakening of the chuunin. The tanned cheeks heated up once more as the teacher remembered Godaime's words on how they could have actually avoided the whole thing if he would've just said something about his collapse to Tsunade when she was there for the first time. He did feel bad for the other man and the thought of it being his fault didn't lessen the queasy feeling that suddenly twisted his gut at the uneasy realization while the first stray rays of light crept inside their room.

He had endangered his mission partner.

He should have known better than to take the ANBU's diagnosis on face value. He was a teacher, for crying out loud! It was one of the most important traits for them to ask for a second opinion before settling for one. For him to disregard Tsunade's expertise and just go with a stranger's basic diagnosis of 'exhaustion'...It was a rookie's mistake, something an instructor of his caliber shouldn't even deign to consider doing. Another, more silent and somber sigh left the dark lips and the dark eyes glanced tiredly at the silent yard, a sliver of the outer world visible between a gap on their bedroom and training room doors. He should have voiced out his doubts of something being wrong when Kakashi seemed to feel out of breath more than usual after a couple of matches.

He should have been more aware, as he was trusted to be.

Sometimes life was a bitchy teacher.

The dark hands pressed hard on the tanned temples and Iruka closed his eyes to take a few calming breaths. It was useless to sulk on the matter now. The lazy bastard was safe and well asleep (if the happy sniffling against Iruka's pillow was any indication) and the teacher himself felt way better than the previous day. If they now took their health issues more seriously than earlier and reported their progression better to the Hokage, they should be able to prevent any other similar dramas from happening. He would need to observe the pale man more closely, though, since Iruka highly doubted that the man would voluntarily tell if anything was wrong with him.

A low grumble beneath the mask and the following session of pillow-nuzzling pulled the tanned chuunin out of his melancholic thoughts, and despite all they have been through so far in the terms of total humiliation, injured muscles and bruised egos plus the constant fraying of nerves, a soft smile crept on Iruka's lips at the sight of the blissfully sleeping older nin.

He should do something more constructive than pouting on the bedroom floor.

He owed that to the man.


Looking at the results, he gave himself a pleased smile.

The kitchen cupboards were cleaned both from the inside and outside, the spills and crumbs carefully wiped away and their beloved stashes of coffee and tea were orderly put on the counter next to the cup and the mug. Even the coffeemaker had been thoroughly cleaned and washed, and the bubbling sound of boiling water filled the otherwise silent ambiance in the open kitchen. Iruka nodded, pleased with himself and then took the cleaning bucket and rags towards the bathroom, which was deemed to be the next target on his list.

There was no better method for clearing the mind than thorough housecleaning.


The steaming tea cup awaited him on the terrace while Iruka took back in the tatami mats after having aired them on the terrace and given them the last wipes with a cloth before putting them back to their places. After the training room was finished and there was nothing else left, except for the dim bedroom he didn't feel like intruding since the older nin was still sleeping, the teacher sat down on the warm terrace and gave a small yawn. Four hours of cleaning and he already felt sleepy. Apparently his body hadn't recovered as much as it first looked like. Nothing a decent cup of well-brewed jasmine tea couldn't fix, and with a happy smile the chuunin took a slow sip of his first morning tea.

The slight disturbance in the air was all the announcement the teacher received, and the chuunin couldn't help but purse his lips in displeased manner.

Damn with the masked men and their lousy timings.

"...Good morning, ANBU-san", the teacher said and the dark eyes slowly turned to face a white porcelain mask and the silent elite wearing it. The ANBU's posture was as calm and laid back as ever, but it wasn't enough to fool Iruka to dismiss the ever so tiny tension on the black op's body at the smoothly said words. Tsunade had indeed had a discussion with the elite, and if the previous slap still faintly tingling on his cheek was anything to go by, Iruka was fairly sure that for once the special assassin was grateful for wearing a mask. "Have you been well?"

A barely visible, wary nod was all the answer he got. Even the snort was absent that time. Either the man had undoubtedly heard about Iruka's sadistic wrath or he was far too transparent with his current facial expression. Not that he felt any obligation to hide anything from the masked nin. Nobody interrupted his first morning tea repetitively without repercussions.

"I see. You've been a rather big pain in my ass from the start, you know. Not for the first time, you come and interrupt my morning tea without any consideration of the appropriate time and place. Then the other day you and the other dick stripped me down to my boxers and ogled me kami knows for how long while I was unconscious and unable to defend myself..." Iruka continued as he slowly stood up with his tea in hand and eyed the armored nin with a intensive look, a look that took a more malevolent glint as he spotted the tiny sign of the man being uneasy in his company. Sure, the man could deck him the instant he was deemed as a threat and he respected their ranks for keeping the others safe in the village, but damn it, he had a lot to vent, and by all seven hells the silent elite was getting his share of it. The tanned cheeks flushed the tiniest bit at his next words and Iruka couldn't help but feel that he was also scolding himself on some level. Forcing the embarrassment down, he lowered his voice into a more intimidating tone. "...And then you go and not only give us a wrong diagnosis but also fail to inform our Hokage on the matter of me collapsing after our match, which, quite frankly, is rather inconsiderate and unprofessional. I'm sure you have been informed what we have been forced through due to that tiny slip in information, and with all due respect, I'm tempted to continue where Tsunade-sama left off."

The man sure could stand rigid.

He had to give the masked nin credit. Not many had survived this far without breaking down under the scrutinizing glare. Then again, seeing the ANBU survive his trademark scowl did enlighten why the currently knocked-out jounin didn't even blink under the same circumstances without the added decibels. Not breaking the eye contact, the already miffed chuunin took a long sip of his tea and cocked an eyebrow at the irritating guest. "Should I order you detention? Make you write an apology for giving a wrong diagnosis for three hundred times? Take you on my lap for good spanking for being such a naughty little ANBU you obviously are?"

The sharp twitch of the armored shoulders spoke clearly about the man's total surprise towards the chuunin's unexpected choice of words. At this point Iruka had to hide his lower face behind his cup and bite his cheek in order to smother the rising snicker. He enjoyed way too much fun in confusing people. "Although I'm pretty sure that that particular punishment has already been served, since putting some weight on that right leg of yours seems to be quite unappealing at the moment." Not that he could ever be sure of it, but the alarmed shift of posture after his words was telling enough. If he didn't know better, he could have taken the assassin as one of his students being told about their misbehavior. Maybe Hokage was right and they always remained as children, no matter what rank or age they represented.

If that was the case then Konoha must have been in need for a hell of a good tawse [1] for centuries by now.

Deeming that he had spoken his mind sufficiently enough, for now, he gave the ANBU a genuine, small smile. "You can inform Tsunade-sama that we're doing fine. Kakashi-san's still asleep and I suspect that he won't wake up until the next day. As for myself, I'm feeling much better, if rather tired at the moment. Otherwise I'd say that we're good to continue our mission when he wakes up. And don't worry, I'm not one to hold grudges when people make mistakes, since this was something we all failed to predict." He took the final sip of the tea and cast a mockingly innocent glance at the now more relaxed assassin. "...Alas, of course, I can't promise that for your sempai." The visible urge jerking the man's hands for making the signs of the teleportation jutsu made his day.

Speaking of which.

Iruka pointed the man with his index finger, a gesture which obviously pressed a button or two within the ANBU's system according to the tiny, appalled jerk of the masked face. "That reminds me, I do have a small request for you, if you could be kind enough to assist with it." After the fleeting moment of considering, a brief nod was given, and the teacher answered it with his own. "Excellent. Please wait a second." With that the teacher left the confused elite on the terrace as he went to the kitchen to retrieve a paper that appeared to be a list of some kind. "Since I can't leave the premises before the mission is complete, can I trust you to deliver these ingredients to me by this evening?" The ANBU took the offered list and the eyes beneath the white mask scanned the written items before lifting to give a flat stare at the smiling tanned man before them.

"Even one snort of disobedience and he'll be the one greeting you during your next visit, ANBU-san", came the quiet threat served with a sunny grin.

As the smoke from the rushed jutsu vanished, a smug smirk found its way on his face.

He should clearly play the 'Pissed-Off Copy-Nin' card more often.


A small, black notebook was dropped on a dark-clothed lap followed by a heavy sigh. Iruka rubbed his drooping eyes and turned to observe the sunny yard as he took yet another sip from his tea. Having the modest lunch finished, the brown-haired man leaned against the wall beam, or what was left of it after what seemed like the doings of one particular blond healer with impressive right hook. He still had yet to collect the other half from the yard where it was still stuck to the ground in a rather extraordinary angle. A small groan escaped his mouth and he slid further down the beam, ending in a half-laying position on the wooden terrace floor with his hands crossed over his chest. The dark eyes shot a look at the clear sky above, the vast plane of blue expanding over his dear village and their training house.

The ANBU had delivered the needed ingredients in a rush, and considering the record amount of time it took the man to complete his task, Iruka was pleasantly surprised to verify that indeed all items on the list had been taken care of in such a short time. Threatening to unleash the sharingan user on the others' necks was definitely worth the second try. The bronze-skinned hands fiddled with the notebook resting on his slacks as a frustrated huff left his lips. He still hadn't reached any breakthrough with the clever seals, no matter how many times he had thought that finally he may have gotten it right. That and Iruka wasn't happy to admit that he was facing an infuriatingly unsettling situation.

It was only past noon and he was already getting out of his mind.

More precisely, he was bored to the bones.

Shikamaru would be shocked to learn that his former sensei was indeed capable of that.

The dark eyes cast a sidelong glance at the closed bedroom doors on the other side of the training room. The house had never before been so silent during their residency, neither had it felt so hollow before. A tiny pout twisted Iruka's lips and he fixed the closed doors with an annoyed scowl. Did the other man really intend to stay out cold all the way until the next day? The teacher didn't have much experience with the recovering from chakra depletion, but being well-educated on shinobis' physiology, he did know it to be highly unlikely for anyone to be able to recover without any form of nutrition. With that thought the pensive eyes swept over the remnants of his light lunch.

...Well, he did need something to do.


The tray gave an apologetic clink as it was put back on the counter with heavy hands, and beside that the only sound in the sunny kitchen was a defeated thunk as the tanned forehead met the cupboard door.

That certainly was a waste of both time and effort.

Iruka had waited the man to smell the food and then wake up for a good hour, keeping the food as close as he dared to approach a sleeping jounin, but all he managed to arouse was a murmur on something concerning snowballs and missing slippers before the older nin had promptly turned away to face the wall, leaving the temperamental chuunin sending imaginative daggers at his back. Hell, the bastard didn't even sneeze, no matter how close the food was brought to his masked nose. Never before had he wished to own an evil mind enough to just yank the irritating mask off the asshole's face and shove the food down the man's throat, or better yet, the obviously useless nostrils.

With an irritated growl, the tiny dish of vegetable curry was thrown to the fridge for later devouring. Then the dark eyebrows cocked at the sudden hypothesis forming in the fuming chuunin's mind. Maybe he really did damage the man's sense of smell when he accidentally broke his nose. He quickly discarded the passing idea, there was no possibility for Kakashi to carry a permanent damage since they healed him well and fast after the unfortunate encounter with Iruka's fist. Then a far more plausible explanation popped into his mind, and the kitchen's atmosphere took a turn for worse as the glaring eyes narrowed their look at the sliver of silver hair visible through the doors.

It could be that the prick was playing him.

Iruka felt his jaw tighten up and his teeth settle into a tight grit as his temper flared at the current thought.

If that was the case, he would soon have a violently butchered jounin in his bed.

All he needed was the verification for the justified kill.

With quick, silenced steps, the chuunin strode back to the bedroom and stood over the target of his currently ill mood. The temperamental man knelt down next to the still figure with trained ease and leaned over, eying all the visible information he could possibly get for busting the older man for tricking his fellow shinobi. The posture of the man was calm and still, but with an air of a relaxed sleeper instead of a predator luring its prey. The even breathing was deep enough to border on the line between REM state or a person just about waking up, but the eye movements clearly indicated towards the man seeing dreams rather than gaining consciousness. What was with the twitching eyebrow, though? As he leaned closer for a better look, a sudden wave of odd tremors rushed up his spine and his palms and neck started to sweat unexpectedly.

He never saw the hand coming before his vision tilted drastically.

As the suddenly blurry seconds cleared out, Iruka was painfully aware of three things.

For one, it appeared that the sleeping jounin still have their instincts and reflexes very well not only intact but definitely in full function as well, which basically meant that their bodies were on alert on their own. Secondly, Kakashi was not only deeply knocked out but also having a quite vivid dream, which, as Iruka now to his utter horror had found out, made him a grabby sleeper.

As the furiously blushing teacher took in his own position with his neck under the jounin's steel-hard arm and his chin resting against the dark-clothed chest, thus his face being way too close to the other's, while the rest of his body was frozen on all fours in a significantly obscene posture next to the man's bed, he was also very efficiently informed on the subtle buzzing sound wafting around both of them and the sudden pulse of high-charged electricity that had ferociously surged through his body the moment the older man's arm had wrapped around his neck.

Thirdly, he had cum into his pants.

Not that Iruka had any time to dwell on the mortifying thought, since the alarmingly familiar tingling of electricity dancing on his skin started again and despite ruining his pants a moment ago, he could feel his lower anatomy stir quite eagerly at the given stimulation. Not wanting to experience any sort of repeat performance of the earlier, Iruka started to pull and twist in the hold in order to dislodge himself from the pale arm. His whole body had started to sweat like being hit by a heatwave and the continuous waves of tremors washing up and down his body gave him enough of a terrifying clue on what was happening.

Never mind being on an important mission, he was going to kill the ones responsible in more ways than one if he survived this.

Accompanied with a steady flow of curses, growls, groans and poorly stifled gasps and whimpers, the chuunin trashed against the hold he had been unfortunate (or plain idiotic in his own rapidly forming opinion) to get himself into, and to his further shock he wasn't able to lift nor turn the heavy, well-trained arm even an inch to slip away. Apparently the jounin's strength wasn't deterred by the sleep either. Iruka's panic grew at the same speed with the throbbing erection, and the dark eyes darted frantically between his rebelling groin and the sleeping jounin's face. Sweat drops fell into his eyes and he could feel a prominent puddle form under both his clenching jaw and the parts of his upper body sharing the unwanted contact with the older nin's. This could not happen to him. This was ridiculous. This was-

The prickling sensation of lightning bolt charging the air around them tripled his urgency to get the hell away from the other man. The tanned legs pushed and twisted against the floor and both the knees and toes slipped and scraped against the increasingly wet wooden surface in a vain attempt to get enough friction to pull the tanned body from under the hold of the grabbing limb while the bronze-skinned hands pushed and tried to lift the pale arm. As a hefty drop of precum smeared against his boxers' fabric amidst his struggles, which only served to make him buck his hips on reflex, a quiet keen arose from the back of the tanned throat. The moment he caught himself actually considering the pros and cons of taking care of his hard and dripping problem while being held by someone easily dubbed as his arch nemesis, Iruka was more than ready to scream his lungs out in desperate frustration.

"Maa...quiet."

At those two gruffly slurred words, the whole body of one stressed-out academy teacher went stiff on the spot, the breath being caught in his throat and his wide eyes staring at the masked face and the closed eyes above the dark fabric. The gods had to be kidding him. With a baited breath, the agonizingly aroused chuunin observed the stirring jounin, the seconds turning into eternity in the panicked man's mind as he waited for the imminent opening of the fluttering, lone gray eye. He could never heard the end of it if the other man caught him like this. He could never again face the man properly, not to mention ever sparring with him anymore. At that thought Iruka felt his blood turn cold as the previous day with its discussions came to his mind.

Tsunade would never accept his request to abort the mission based on an ill-timed boner.

As the chuunin was preparing himself for the shameful encounter with his superior, suddenly the arm lifted from his burning neck. Seizing the heavenly opportunity to escape, Iruka hastily pulled back and scrambled five feet away from the older man , only to watch in puzzlement as the S-class elite flopped on his side, scratched his masked nose, sighed tiredly and began sniffling again without a trace of being even slightest awake during the tiny escapade. As suddenly as it had appeared, the buzzing sound faded away as the skin-prickling charge of electricity died from the air, leaving the two men in the bedroom with only the sounds of breathless panting and even breathing mixing together.

Still his eyes trained on the jounin to detect if anything else was about to happen, the previously tanned, now immensely flushed man scooted backwards to settle against the wall opposite the sleeping elite. His pulse was beating erratically, it was hard to get enough air into his lungs, his skin felt feverish and wet, his whole body was aching and throbbing badly, and not only were his clothes thoroughly soaked but also disgustingly sticky in certain areas. On the plus side, his pants were no longer four times too small.

He needed a cold shower to drown himself into.


It was noon. No, way past noon judging from the angle of the light, the narrow, gray eye observed under a heavy lid. Maybe evening already.

At least the loud birds had quieted.

Taking a slow, deeper inhale, Kakashi awakened his senses fully to take in his current situation. He was in bed, he was quite drowsy and there was a strange damp spot on his chest. He was fairly sure he couldn't drool that much in his sleep. Or sweat, even though there was a faint trace of manly odor surrounding him. Either way, he had slept well, perhaps even a bit too well in his professional opinion. This mission was clearly messing with his previous training. Not that he minded much, since if he recalled correctly, the past few missions did leave him unhealthily sleep-deprived. Plus he recognized the familiar ache of chakra depletion. Now why did he ache as such? As his mind supplied him with the memories of the previous hours, a quiet, thoughtful hum flowed past his lips. If he was meant to rest the last of the exhaustion away, he didn't feel like arguing with the offered permission to slack for a few more hours, and with that happy conclusion in mind, the masked nin pressed his head more firmly against the pillow-

He didn't have a pillow.

The earlier tiredness gone in a flash, the silver-haired man bolted up on the mattress and stared incredulously at the lump of feathers and cotton still sporting the dint from having his head on it. His pillow had been annihilated by the angry Hokage if he remembered correctly, and as his gray eye slowly made its way towards the second futon laid a few feet away, the chilling sense of dread settled in the copy-nin's gut as his sight fell upon a familiar collection of explicit literature piled up next to the mattress he didn't occupy at that moment. He had slept in a wrong bed.

In any other occasion, it usually didn't include him being fully dressed up.

Which led to another, more pressing question creeping into his head.

Where was the bipolar owner of the invaded futon?

Since he didn't spot the man in their bedroom, it didn't take much to deduct that the teacher was somewhere else. Not that Kakashi ever felt enthusiastic to actively pursue his doom, the jounin slowly stood up and walked on wobbly legs to the bedroom doors leading to the corridor. He peeked his head around the door and looked down the dim corridor leading to their kitchen, which also happened to be chuuninless. Since there was no sound of shower coming from the bathroom, the last three options left were the toilet, the terrace or the training room.

Knowing the tanned demon's obvious love for sunlight, the terrace was the most apparent option.

But first, he needed some caffeine in his system.

Shuffling on silent feet towards his priced source of the black nectar, the older nin started to feel something persistently picking on his interest. He halted in the corridor and the sharp eye took a moment to regard the scenery before him. It was all oddly...fresh. A trace of fresh, citrus-y scent wafted to his nose and as his eye swept over the kitchen's surfaces, the pale legs carried the man backwards at their bathroom door. Carefully, the copy-nin opened the door ajar and peered in, only to be greeted with the same scent accompanied with something much more distinct he couldn't currently place his finger on, and the room was way neater than he remembered from the previous time they had showered. The check on the toilet was the last confirmation for Kakashi's suspicion.

Their house had been cleaned.

Humming a more cheerful tone, the sharingan user walked once again towards the empty kitchen, noting absently that not only were the surfaces pristine white and well-scrubbed, his coffee tins had been organized and his mug was neatly placed next to them. As he opened the coffee maker's lid to pour in some water, his surprises seemed to continue as he realized the machine having been washed and wiped as well.

He was pretty sure he had the currently missing younger nin to thank for that as well.

After a second of staring the kitchen machine in stunned silence, a bright chuckle escaped the masked lips and Kakashi shook his head in amused manner. Never had he thought to see the day when Iruka would tend to his coffeemaker. The tanned man was a tea addict to the grave and it entertained his mind to imagine the other trying to figure out the wonders of coffee brewing technology, moreover to find the best ways to clean up the gadget. Not that Kakashi hadn't enjoyed immensely the coffee the man offered him from time to time during their mornings. Either the teacher had memorized the machine's manual and the instructions on the tins for a good pot of coffee, or the bugger was possessing some hidden talents on that field. For the more argued reasons the first option was the most expected in the geniuses mind.

"...Kakashi-san!"

Speak of the devil itself.

Having set the beverage brewing, Kakashi turned towards the surprised shout coming from his right. He was rewarded with the sight of a wide-eyed chuunin staring him from the threshold of the terrace, looking as if the man was about to lunge at him. The idea of him sleeping on the man's bed flashed in his mind and for a fleeting second the copy-nin hesitated between staying still or fleeing fast from the obvious tongue-lashing he was about to receive. To his surprise, though, instead of being filled to the brim with utter irritation, the dark orbs reflected visible worry on the tanned face as the teacher reached him with a couple of hurried steps. The small, hesitant smile was enough to make him worry for his health, though.

Smiling Umino meant black-eyed Hatake.

"When did you wake up? How are you feeling? Are you hurting anywhere?"

Way for the chuunin to make him feel like a two-year-old. To stop the mother-hen of a sensei from rambling any further and pulling his jounin's ego down any more than it already was, Kakashi gave the man a bright smile with his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, enjoying the pleasing sound of a tanned jaw snapping shut. "Maa, sensei, I'm not dead, as you can see. In fact, I'm feeling surprisingly well. But thank you for asking. Although I don't mind the extra care if you feel up for nursing this one little copy-nin all better", he finished with a suggesting wink, putting a very efficient silence between them two in the kitchen.

Then again, so did the worry in the chuunin's eyes get quickly replaced by the more familiar, fiery annoyance, and to his interested note, Kakashi saw the brown ponytail bristle visibly as the younger man's feathers got ruffled.

"Get bent, pervert. Have you eaten yet?"


As the sky dyed bright orange, Kakashi watched it from the terrace with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. His ears registered the bustling sounds coming from the kitchen where the chuunin was preparing their supper, the man having thrown him out and insisting on managing their food by himself. That may have also been the result of one dirty joke too many about chuunin housewives, but that was a trivial detail. Iruka was a good cook and he wasn't going to complain for getting fed without effort.

He felt like Pakkun suddenly.

"Here you go, I tried to wake you up earlier to eat some, but it should be good even when reheated", the mellow voice said next to him as Iruka stepped to the terrace and set the supper between them, it being a good-smelling curry of some sort. A smile found its way to the masked lips at the teacher's words, especially when presented with a rather nice blush on the scarred cheeks.

"Sorry to sleep so heavily, sensei. I'm sure it's all very good since you're the one who cooked it."

Correction. A very nice, deep blush with a hint of cherry on the scarred cheeks.

"...Is that so..? Well then, I guess I should make you cook the main dishes a few times as well, if you're about to grow so lazy in the art of cooking that you're starting to compliment my food, Kakashi-san." Despite his face feeling like on fire, Iruka managed to smirk teasingly at the older man. He did catch the compliment for what it was, but to decrease the heat on his face called for drastic measures. The mockingly dramatic eye-roll made him chuckle, for he was happy to see that the man was feeling well enough to take part in their teasing. He gave the man his curry and they ate in comfortable silence, both shinobis lost in their thoughts of counting both the angle and strength needed for both splitting a wooden beam with a diameter of fifteen inches and making half of it land in a surprising angle on the ground with apparently half of it stuck in the soil.

"..They had had a rough night apparently."

"It seems so, Kakashi-san."

"Did you already examine it?"

"Based on my calculations she has stood diagonally towards it and used her right fist. Although, I wouldn't put it past her to continue the punch with her left, as you can see the more stomped ends of the splinters on the sunken half and compare them to the rest next to you", Iruka said calmly and pointed at the split wooden beam next to the copy-nin, who silently examined the damage. "How on earth she didn't take part of the roof with it is still a small wonder, though."

"She must have punched horizontally, but for the beam to split rather than get wholly dislocated from the porch..." Kakashi murmured, his brain counting different possibilities for the phenomenon.

"It had a small crack in it already, right below the splitting point. See here", having finished his curry, Iruka scooted on the other side of the jounin and ran his finger across a faintly visible line crossing the side of the beam, "it was already weak from this seam and the heavy punch had hit most likely just above it for it to break so clean."

"Ah, that explains it. Well spotted, sensei", came the slightly amused compliment by the low voice.

"Oh shut up, you-", Iruka turned his face to glare at the other-

Only that the half an inch between his and the other's face was making it increasingly hard to concentrate on his thoughts that seemed to have vanished from sight for undefined time. The unwavering, narrow gray eye looking right back at his own wasn't helping either. As the faint scent of coffee and woods hit his nose, Iruka suddenly jerked his head back and to his shock hit it against the broken beam behind him, his eyes watering up in instant at the painful throb in his skull. A pained curse was hissed through his lips as he cradled his head in his hands, but before he realized fully what was happening, pale hands had taken a hold on his head and a deep chuckle was heard a bit closer than a second ago.

"Watch it, sensei. You may have more sense in you than Naruto, but that's easy to lose if you keep hitting you head like that", Kakashi said and patted the furiously blushing man's head. "It wouldn't do to lose such a bright teacher from our village, now would it?" The sight before him was unheard of, with the intelligent and cautious chuunin nursing his dark-haired head, all flustered and subdued. The setting sun colored the red cheekbones with a hint of gold, and out of strange urge taking control of his actions for the briefest moment, Kakashi brushed the dark strands with his masked mouth. Suddenly he felt his gut throw a somersault as a scent all too familiar to him attacked his sensitive nose and for the shortest second he lost himself into his thoughts.

On a hindsight, he had been trained to stay constantly alert for a reason.

The minute the hard skull of the chuunin teacher collided with his already countless times abused masked chin and his vision swam from the sheer pain shooting through his own head, Kakashi let out a yelp of pain and relocated his hands from the dark hair to his masked face to keep his teeth and jaw from falling off. He did register a groan of pain from the vicinity of the other but decided to concentrate on his own agony for a minute and in his desperate attempts to keep the scarred eye from weeping. This was humiliating.

For a long moment, the two adult shinobi, a chuunin and a jounin both seen as two of the best among their peers, held their hurting heads in heavy, thick, and overly embarrassed silence.

Resigning himself with a hellish migraine for the rest of the night, Iruka looked up at the other man, not really sure what he was hoping to see. Whatever it had been, a teary-eyed copy-nin was not one on that list, though. Kakashi was clutching at his mask as if his life would depend on it and the minute their eyes met the thundering eye was squinted tightly shut, either from the pain or the sheer panicked try to prevent Iruka from seeing the tears leaking out of the dark eye. He had been already quite shocked from the extraordinary actions of the other so seeing the man weep after getting a bone-shattering hit to his jaw was just a logical continuation on his growing list of strange things happening to them. Setting his own hurting head aside, the teacher slowly sat on his knees and lowered his voice into soothing hush. "You want me to take a look at it, Kakashi-san?"

"I'mma'ight," came the muffled answer with a head shake.

Iruka let out a mental groan at the man's antics. Why did they all think him to be best suited for the egoistic bastard? "No you're not, I can see it from here. Let me see, you may need healing-"

"I 'aid I'mm'a'ight!" Kakashi snapped and fended the reaching hands. He was already focusing his chakra to heal part of the damage before fetching a healing bandage and Iruka's mothering nature was not helping him with his once more hurting ego. He was a grown man, dammit!

"For kami's sake, stop being a complete idiot and let me have a look at it! I'm not even going to take off your mask, you know that!" By now Iruka could feel his blood boil at the accusing stare he was getting from the other. Damn the jounin and their ridiculous sense of pride!

"That's not the case here, sensei." Ah, finally he could talk without sounding like a toddler. Kakashi fixed he tanned man with an even more narrow and menacing look over his mask. Not that he doubted the man's words, but he couldn't let him touch his chin. Sparring was fine, but he would be the only one to nurture his face, apart from the medics, that is. His nose was just an exception."I'm not letting you close enough to maim me even more than you already have."

"..What?" Came the now equally pissed question.

"You heard me."

"You could have dodged that, you idiot! You're a jounin!" Iruka's voice was gaining more volume with each passing syllable.

"Maa, forgive for my insolence towards your hard little head, but has it ever occurred to you that maybe it has something to do with me being trained more likely to kill rather than dodge?" He knew he was crossing the lines more than it was healthy, but he couldn't stop his mouth once it got the chance to vent all the confusion and tiredness at the schizophrenic nuisance pestering him at the moment. As he watched the dark orbs set into bright flames he knew the first boundaries were down in the chuunin's polite upbringing, and it wouldn't do not to go all the way down, now would it? "Ah, but then again, how could you possibly know that with your ass being always safe behind the mission desk or the school-"

"For your information, I'm fairly comfortable with the idea of killing you right now, jounin-san", Iruka laid out his words on a heated tone. To think, that for a one, passing minute, he had actually considered-

"A mere tea cup is hardly a threat, chibi-chuu-nin-chan."

"Enough!" Iruka heard himself shout out in his teacher voice and before he knew it, his hand swung through the air at the older man's head with a practiced ease achieved from the many times he had scolded Naruto and his gang. Kakashi dodged the swing with ease and Iruka already cursed in his mind for missing the infuriating man.

Neither of them expected to see a wave of cold water following the path of the passing hand.

Even less for it to impact the silver-haired head with a loud splash.

The dark eyes stared stunned at the equally scandalized lone gray, the only sound on the terrace coming from the small droplets of water hitting the wooden floor.

This was going to be a hellish month.


[1] Thank you Sushi4Brains for introducing this fine object to my dirty mind. Check out 'The Tawse That Refreshes'.