Work Text:
Kakashi’s hands were sweating. Which, really, wasn’t that surprising. They were pretty much always sweating around a certain pony-tail wearing history teacher. Kakashi wasn’t so dense as to not be able to tell who exactly caused this little phenomenon in himself. And it’s not that he was sweaty all the time around him, but Iruka was sitting across from him and he was nervous and Iruka’s knee was touching his beneath the table and Kakashi could just make out a faint dusting of freckles against the other’s cheeks.
And Kakashi wanted to ask him on a date-- which, again, wasn’t that surprising. Kakashi had been nursing a crush -- which had turned into much, much more than a crush -- on the younger teacher since he was added to the staff nearly three years ago. And he had thought it was helpless for a long time; he had never expected Iruka to return his feelings, had never even considered a person like Iruka maybe liking him back. Until recently, that is.
Just this morning, Genma had told Anko who had told Gai who had mentioned it to Kakashi that Iruka had alluded to having a crush on someone in the literature department. And the only person Iruka even talked to in the literature department was Kakashi.
So. Kakashi wanted to ask him on a date.
Now, with this new information, Kakashi was reevaluating all of the interactions he had shared with the other teacher. There had been instances over the last few months where Kakashi thought Iruka might have reciprocated his feelings-- moments like this one, where Iruka would absently press his knee into Kakashi’s thigh beneath the lunch table.
Or when Iruka would toss Kakashi a breakfast bar in the morning before classes, would seek Kakashi out at an assembly so they could sit side to side among their sea of students, would walk Kakashi to his car after a long day at school, telling him to get home safely with a gentle nod and small smile. There was also the faint blush that would accompany a suppressed grin, when Kakashi felt brave enough to tell Iruka that he looked handsome, that looked nice in that blue blazer Iruka wore only sometimes.
The intel he’d gotten from Gai had simply given him grounds to believe what he had never considered hoping for.
And now, Iruka is eating a salad in silence, carefully readvising a lesson plan for the beginning of next week. A silence around Iruka always felt still with warmth, kind in a way Kakashi always felt a little desperate for. And today, the silence is easy. After a full week of classes--Kakashi knew the kind of bone tired that Iruka was feeling currently felt intimately.
Kakashi’s eyes flit across the staff room again. It’s empty. Most of the teachers opted to eat inside their classrooms, or had lunch duty. Kakashi only ate in the staff room because he knew Iruka preferred the sunlight and the wall to wall windows of the teacher’s lounge.
“Sunlight is good for you, Kakashi-san,” Iruka had told him months and months ago, eyes crinkling around a smile. And, well. That was it.
Kakashi continues to stare at Iruka’s perfectly laid ponytail and the movement of his jaw as he chews, before he wipes his sweaty palms on his dark slacks. Kakashi uses a napkin to hold his place in his book and then places it neatly onto the table in front of him. With one hand, he takes off his reading glasses and places them next to the book. Then, he clears his throat and says, “Iruka.”
Iruka’s quite cute when he’s been caught off guard. Which Kakashi has known for ages, but there is something about the way a piece of lettuce falls from the younger man’s bottom lip, with his mouth gaping like carp, that Kakashi finds infinitely endearing.
The lettuce falls unceremoniously back into Iruka’s bowl. Iruka’s blush is spectacular, cherry red against the tan of his cheek. Kakashi’s lips twitch in an approximation of a smile, waiting for Iruka’s reply.
Once he’s wiped his mouth with a napkin, Iruka clears his own throat before saying: “Is there something I can do for you, Kakashi-san?”
Yes, his mind supplies immediately. Kakashi’s belly feels alive with tingling little flutters. Had he thought this far? Yes and no.
“Well,” Kakashi crinkles his eyes.
There’s a thick pause, and Iruka’s eyes remain fully focused on Kakashi.
“Well?” Iruka’s smiling now, and Kakashi is so weak.
Kakashi’s never been a quitter, so he barrels forward. “Let me make dinner for you.” Kakashi winces, not meaning for it to sound like such a demand. “I mean--would you like to have dinner? With me, I mean. I could make you dinner, but if you--”
Iruka’s peal of laughter make’s Kakashi shut his mouth with an audible click of his teeth. Iruka’s brown eyes are shining, reflecting the early afternoon sun. “Kakashi,” Iruka says around another laugh and he sounds fond . Kakashi finds himself tense, slightly under Iruka’s attention and the assault of near perfect sound of the other man’s laugh. “Are you asking me on a date?”
Kakashi feels exposed from behind his mask, his cheeks and ears coloring traitorously. “Uh--” Kakashi’s cheeks are burning. “I guess you could say that.”
One Iruka’s eyebrow arches. “You guess you’re asking me on a date? Or you know?”
“I am--asking you on a date,” Kakashi amends quickly. Belatedly he realizes as he watches Iruka barely hold back laughter, that he’s being teased.
“Maa, sensei,” Kakashi whines, and his finger comes up to scratch the scar that bisects his eye. His cheeks are hot to the touch. “It’s not very nice of you to tease me like that.”
Iruka’s nose crinkles, as he assesses Kakashi’s further. For a painful moment, Kakashi thinks that he might have ruined this, that his assumptions were all wrong and he’d read too much into it.
That is, until Iruka smiles, easy and small. “Okay.”
Kakashi blinks. “Okay?” he parrots back.
Iruka laughs-- or it’s more of a giggle that he stifles behind one of his hands. “Okay, you can cook for me,” he says, and then his expression from before returns--mirth and trouble spelled out in that quirk of his lips. “On a date,” he adds, and the sly curve of his lips has Kakashi’s heart beating wildly in his chest.
Kakashi’s flush returns. “Really?”
Before Iruka can answer, Anko emerges from the door to the hallway. She looks frazzled, a slight dishevelment to her shirt. There appears to be rice in her hair, even. “Iruka--” she begins, and Iruka and Kakashi share a look across the table before Iruka sighs deeply, his shoulders drooping.
“Naruto?” Iruka asks anyway.
“Him and Sasuke,” she affirms. Before she leaves, she looks at Kakashi with a strange expression. “Kakashi, do you mind lending me Iruka?” Anko’s eyes are glistening, troublesome.
Kakashi slouches in his seat, waving a hand in feigned disinterest. “Iruka is free to come and go as he pleases.”
Anko laughs. Both of them look at Iruka, who has quickly gathered his things and stood up from the table.
Iruka sets his jaw and straightens his shoulders, and Kakashi can’t help the way his stomach tightens up.
Before he turns to leave with Anko--who is sitting silently by the door, intent to look on with that same strange, troublesome expression -- Iruka turns to Kakashi, says: “I’ll text you later about tonight. I have to go get my kid.”
Kakashi smiles with his eyes. “It’s no trouble, sensei. Go give him hell.”
Iruka laughs, his shoulders loosening. He offers Kakashi another easy smile, and leaves with Anko just as quickly as the woman came.
“So, what’s going on tonight?” Anko asks, not even bothering to lower her voice or waiting for the door to close.
“Anko, not now ,” Iruka’s voice is strained. Kakashi can even hear his blush in his tone, as he pleads for Anko’s mercy.
Then it’s quiet.
Kakashi picks his book up again, flips a few pages before it hits him.
He has a date .
***
Kakashi spends an unusual amount of time in the shower, but only after he panic cleaned his entire home from top to bottom. Just how much could eight dogs shed? Well, normally it was a lot. Too much even. But with the winter season ending and spring well on its way, half the pack was shedding.
And they had even tracked in a bunch of mud from a tiny creek behind Kakashi’s family home.
“Pakkun,” Kakashi had scolded. And the pug had looked at him with large, disdainful bug eyes. “You should know better.”
Kakashi had to hose all thirty-two of their paws off outside, and then he had to dry them all off.
Now, after he's made dinner and left it on the stove to keep warm, Kakashi scrubs harder at the flesh of his arms with an exfoliating sponge, before he decides that he’s being ridiculous and goes to turn the water off. It was just Iruka.
His hand pauses over the handle. Not just Iruka.
Kakashi spends another ten minutes in the shower, scrubbing his body one (or two) more times to get the wet dog smell out of his skin and hair and then steps out of the shower stall in a plume of steam.
After wiping the condensation off his mirror with a towel, Kakashi assesses himself with two large grey eyes. Normally, he wouldn’t care all that much about how he smelled or how his hair fell or how his skin looked. But this was Iruka.
Kakashi had been more or less in love with him for two and half years. He doesn’t want to fuck this up. He can’t fuck this up. He still felt as if he was stuck in some hallucination, one that had begun that morning with Gai’s intel. And now he had a date and he couldn’t fuck it up.
Steeling what little courage he’s got left, Kakashi goes about a more detailed and meticulous routine. He brushes his teeth (twice), shaves the tiny amount of stubble that has accumulated on his chin, and then again stares at himself for another extended period in the mirror.
When the reflection doesn’t change, and Kakashi feels his stomach curl tight with frustration, he leaves the bathroom. He knew he was being ridiculous, and yet he couldn’t stop.
Somehow, deciding on what to wear is even more painful.
By the time Kakashi has decided on something -- dark blue jeans and a black turtleneck-- it's almost time for Iruka to arrive. In their sparse text conversation earlier, they decided on seven, and Kakashi knows Iruka well enough to know that the man would be on time, if not a few minutes early.
Kakashi wonders for a moment if he should put on his mask, before deciding against it. In the off chance that they’d share a kiss… Well, Kakashi didn’t want to have to waste even a second of time pulling it down.
He spends the next eight minutes in a state of controlled panic, his stomach bouncing between feeling like it's filled with little worms and then feeling like a heavy sack of rocks. The dogs have been fed and placed inside the basement, so he doesn't have to worry about them giving Iruka an excited greeting that would end with Iruka flattened against the floor.
Standing above the heat of the stove, Kakashi fusses over the ramen he’d made again, silently hoping it’s up to Iruka’s insane standards. Kakashi had heard first hand how aggressively and passionately Iruka disliked the new ramen bar that had opened up in competition with Ichiraku’s a few months. The display had left Iruka red-faced and huffing, angry over some imposter-ramen, and it had left Kakashi feeling especially fond.
Kakashi’s ripped from his memory when there is a knock on the door. His entire body stills, as if it’d been caught in a wire trap. He has to make an active effort to control his breathing.
“Coming,” Kakashi calls out, and he leaves the stove to go and open the door for his date . Each step fills him with equal parts dread and giddiness.
There is an eruption of feeling when Kakashi opens the door, as he stares at Iruka and he numbly takes in his appearance.
Iruka’s hair is different, the detached part of Kakashi’s mind supplies. More importantly, though, is the fact that his hair is framing his face, but it’s not not all the way down. Kakashi’s mind races to catch up to the beating of his chest, only for him to realize that Iruka’s hair is pulled back in a bun. Resting gently against the nape of his neck.
Kakashi feels himself swallow, but his throat is impossibly tight.
“Kakashi,” Iruka says, the tone of his voice he uses leads Kakashi to believe it wasn’t the first time he tried to say his name to get Kakashi's attention.
Kakashi’s blush rises, quick and sudden. “Iruka, sorry, come in.”
“Thank you,” Iruka laughs, and delicately places a stray strand of hair behind his ear. He toes his shoes off before looking expectantly at Kakashi. His eyes are big and brown and they are looking at Kakashi.
He needs to get a grip.
“Right.” Kakashi could die. He could die right now--in an explosion or a sword to the chest or lighting could come down, swift and furious, and it wouldn’t be quick enough. He can feel Iruka’s eyes on the back of his neck, prickling the skin there into goose flesh as he leads him into the dining room.
Iruka’s shuffling stills, and when Kakashi turns to face him, his mouth is parted and forming a little O.
“Kakashi,” Iruka says slowly. “Did you make ramen?”
Kakashi feels his cheeks heat up again, and he nods. “It’s your favorite.”
“Oh,” Iruka’s laugh is brittle with nerves, and his cheeks have brightened with color. “I didn’t realize you caught on to that.”
Kakashi raises an eyebrow. “Whenever we eat out after work,” he says. “You always insist on Ichiraku’s. Was it meant to be a secret?”
“No,” Iruka amends quickly, only for another nervous laugh to slip past his lips. “I just didn’t…”
“Didn’t what, sensei?” Kakashi presses.
Iruka stares at him for a moment longer, and his cheeks steadily climb in color. “I didn’t know you noticed.” Iruka scratches at his cheek, along his own scar. It's a nervous habit of his, Kakashi knows.
Kakashi purses his lips -- suddenly regretful for not wearing his mask. Desperately he wants something to hide behind. But he knows, as he stares at the man across from him, that it isn’t judgement before him. It is a curiosity. The itch beneath Kakashi’s skin to hide, even now, was muted in Iruka’s presence.
For a terrifying moment, he feels seen; and for a terrifying moment, he isn’t afraid to be.
He looks at Iruka, and Iruka looks insanely beautiful. Big brown eyed. The last vestiges of sunlight make the sharp edges of his features soft with shadow. He’s wearing a fitted white button down, and the sleeves are rolled up. Dark jeans. His socks are blue, threaded with tiny bowls of ramen. And Kakashi’s eyes linger on the exposed skin of his forearm. They look tanned, smooth apart from the occasional pink scar.
Kakashi unsticks his throat with a cough. “Only the important stuff,” he says, and meets Iruka’s eyes from across the small distance that separates them.
Iruka scrunches his nose, asks: “And what do you consider important?”
Kakashi feels his belly hollow--the directness of the question momentarily taking him off guard. Iruka must feel his apprehension, because instead of shying away from Kakashi’s eyes, he straightens his back.
And since Kakashi’s admiration wins over his hesitance, he says: “You.”
Iruka’s posture bows, as his shoulders fall in tandem with his lips. He’s open mouthed, clearly surprised. Kakashi has to ball his hands into fists to keep himself from doing-- doing something. Something stupid. Kissing the surprise off of Iruka’s face, for example.
The air around them is heavy with static, promises something but Kakashi does not know what. And they stand in still silence, much more tense than it has ever been between them. There have been moments where Iruka had been two steps away from tearing Kakashi’s head off. Moments were Iruka’s sharp tongue and even sharper words had cut Kakashi down a peg or two. But even still, Kakashi is determined-- desperate, even --to set the night right. He offers Iruka a small smile, lets it crinkle his eyes, before Kakashi nods to where the dining room is, in just the other room.
“Dinner is this way,” he gestures, vaguely aware of how his body seems to be moving even while his brain is obnoxiously trying to get him to flee.
Iruka is silent until Kakashi makes him a bowl. Kakashi attempts to make it look how Ichiraku normally has it, what with all the toppings in place, but he can’t seem to get it right in the end. He hands Iruka the better, prettier bowl of the two he made for them and takes his seat across from him.
For a long moment, Iruka just stares at the bowl in front of him. A complicated series of emotions pass between his eyes, before he looks up.
“Thank you for the meal,” he says with a slight bow. Kakashi wants to protest the formality, but he sees the way Iruka’s eyes have gotten misty, the tremor to his bottom lip, and decides better against it.
Kakashi waits for Iruka to take a bite, before he says: “Be gentle with me, sensei. I tried my best.”
Kakashi had even gone as far as begging Teuchi for the recipe for Iruka's usual order. But Iruka didn't need to know that.
Iruka chews thoughtfully, slowly, and just as Kakashi is beginning to think that he hates it, he swallows and grins. “It’s almost as good as the real deal,” he says, all teeth.
Kakashi releases a breath, says: “The highest praise coming from you.”
From there, the conversation picks up, and once again they submerge into the feeling of it. Slowly Kakashi feels the tension that had set within the layers of his muscles ease. Iruka talks animatedly around his bowl of ramen, gesticulating with his chopsticks occasionally to emphasize a point. Kakashi’s relieved, partially because Iruka is filling the silences, but mostly because he seems to be having a good time.
Iruka is finishing his second bowl, when Kakashi asks, “So what happened with Naruto and Sasuke today?”
Iruka groans. “Naruto told Sasuke he could stick more of his lunch to the wall, and it snowballed from there.”
Kakashi whistles. “I heard that Naruto managed to get some to the ceiling of the cafeteria.”
This has Iruka laughing, his sour expression turning fond. “He did! And he also managed to start an all out battle between all of the tables. The cafeteria was a mess even before I got there.”
Kakashi hums, though he feels his lips curling into a smile involuntarily. Naruto was impossible not to root for, in any situation.
“He was given detention, though,” Iruka says. “Tsunade insisted both Naruto and Sasuke have to come in tomorrow morning to scrub the cafeteria down.”
Kakashi straightens in his seat. “That’s reasonable,” he agrees. “Who’s he with tonight, anyway?”
Naruto wasn’t a kid anymore, but he was still young enough to get into trouble. Iruka had left him alone for half a night a few months ago, only to come back to the house to find Naruto had accidentally lit the drapes on fire. Kakashi had heard about it in horrifying detail the following Monday, because apparently he managed to light the fire without a match.
Iruka gives Kakashi a worn look. “Who else?”
Ah, Sasuke then.
“Those two,” Iruka’s voice drifts. “They’re going to make me go grey.”
Kakashi pouts. “Maa, sensei,” he slouches. “What’s so bad about being grey?”
Iruka laughs, sudden and loud. “Don’t worry, Kakashi. You make it look good.”
“How forward of you, sensei,” Kakashi finds himself saying, delighted. Iuka’s eyes widen, his flush returning.
The man across from him huffs. The hair that he had tucked behind his ear earlier coming loose. “We are on a date,” Iruka argues, though the flush creeps further down his shirt.
“Still,” Kakashi grins, leans back and extends his hands out to give Iruka a view. “Do you like what you see, sensei?”
Iruka sits upright, suddenly indignant. The look on his face is worth the fact that Kakashi’s stomach is churning, charmed and restless.
“And so what if I do?” Iruka asks, and Kakashi feels himself blanch, only for all the color to rise back up into his own cheeks. So quickly, that he almost feels dizzy.
“Well, I--” Kakashi attempts, any bravado he’d had a moment ago gone out the window.
Iruka pushes his bowl towards the center of the table, and leans forward on his forearms. On his beautiful, exposed forearms. “What, Kakashi-san?” Kakashi gulps, as he stares at Iruka’s playful grin. His mouth is perfect--stupidly perfect. “You can dish it out but can’t take it?”
Kakashi opens his mouth, only to be interrupted by a series of low whines coming from his basement.
Iruka’s body turns in tune with the noise, and he asks: “What was that?” Kakashi can hear the frown in his voice, the confusion.
“My dogs,” Kakashi says, and stands. “I fed them an hour before you got here, so they have to be let out.”
A few more differently pitched whines, and Iruka turns to look back at Kakashi. “How many?” He asks, and Kakashi is taken back by how excited he looks. He never mentioned he liked dogs before.
“I have eight.”
Iruka stands from his seat, his expression from before gone. Replaced entirely with a buzzing sort of excitement, palpable and alive. Kakashi has to actively stop the smile from forming on his face.
“You can meet them once they’ve all had a chance to get their energy out in the yard,” Kakashi says, and Iruka nods quickly, clearly thrilled with the idea. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”
Kakashi has to sneakily open the door to his basement so not to risk one of the dogs slipping past him to where Iruka is. By the time he nears the bottom of the steps, the dogs have almost all knocked him down. They can smell Iruka surely, and must be curious over who Kakashi’s brought home. With the exception of Pakkun, all of them are full-body wagging and sniffing at the bottom of his pant legs.
“You can meet him later,” Kakashi pushes against Bull’s large body to move through the room. The basement opens out to the yard, so without preamble Kakashi opens the door and the pack races out in a blur of fur and pink padded paws. Kakashi counts seven, and it comes to no surprise that Pakkun is still lounging against his bed in the corner of the room. “Pakkun,” he calls. The tiny pug stretches, before he gets up and trots lazily to where Kakashi has crouched by the door.
Pakkun gives him a tired look.
“Go on,” Kakashi points outside, and Pakkun seems to get the idea because he jogs slowly to the ramp Kakashi had installed so that he’d be able to get to the yard without him straining to go up the steps.
After Kakashi’s tidied up the small mess his dogs had made downstairs, he returns up the steps. Iruka isn’t in the dining room when he peaks inside. The table had been cleared but he isn’t in the kitchen, either; he must have been at some point, since he placed the dishes in the sink.
“Iruka?” Kakashi tentatively calls. It wasn’t like the teacher to wander in a home that wasn’t his own.
When Kakashi sees Iruka standing in front of the bookcase in his family room, he immediately realizes his mistake.
“Kakashi,” Iruka hasn’t turned to face him. Though, Kakashi knows what that tone of voice means, and it only spells trouble for himself. Iruka turns then, and his grin would have been the most spectacular thing Kakashi had ever seen, had it not been for the bright orange book he was waving in the air. “What’s this?”
“Uh--” Kakashi’s throat is tight, and he can feel every ounce of his blood rushing to his face. A bead of sweat forms on his brow, and his tongue is dry. “It’s a book, sensei.”
There is a thick pause as Iruka stares Kakashi down in poorly concealed glee before he erupts in an explosion of laughter. Iruka laughs and laughs and laughs, and he doesn’t stop. Kakashi watches in growing dread as Iruka bends over at the hips, and continues to laugh until he is bright in the cheeks and short of breath and so radiant that Kakashi thinks he might be the one who is about to faint.
A goner, Kakashi thinks faintly. I’m a goner.
“It’s porn,” Iruka manages through a wheeze. “You have two shelves of poorly written porn stashed out in the open.”
To this, Kakashi has to protest. “It’s not poorly written,” he says sulkily.
“Oh?” Kakashi realizes his next mistake much, much quicker this time around. Iruka opens to a page in the book, and begins to read aloud: “‘The maiden’s bosom had become exposed during the altercation, and in the moonlight those mounds glistened like two crystal balls of which the knight longed to learn his future from--’”
Kakashi chokes on the spit drying quickly at the back of his throat, and lunges forward only for Iruka to dodge at the last second and evade him.
Iruka manages to flip to another random page, and evades another swipe of Kakashi’s arm and runs to the other side of the room. He’s breathing heavily, heaving just to slide to a stop on his ramen socks, and says in a breathy, exaggerated voice: “Maiden, The knight grunted. He rutted against the fair, spring-time flower, wanting to pollinate her with his immense seed, to make fruit of the lewd slap of his skin against her own.’”
“Oh my god,” Kakashi lunges again, his arms only catching air. Iruka was a slippery, easily dodging Kakashi's lunges and attempts to grab the book from his hands. All of the hair against his neck was sticking to his skin with sweat.
Iruka skids to a stop across the room only to flip to another page, and this time Kakashi’s determined to catch him.
“‘The slapping increased, ringing out in the woods around them. The knight pressed closer, roughly grasping at the young maiden’s pert and erect nipples, wanting to suckle on them as if they were his mother’s own teat, to milk the young woman as if she were a cow--’”
Kakashi doesn’t know how, but he does manage to get his arms around Iruka’s waist then. He has a feeling that Iruka was too busy laughing at what he’d read aloud to attempt to flee from Kakashi, but it didn’t matter. Now that he’d managed to get Iruka captured in his arms, he had no intention of letting him go.
His face is burning, all of the blood rushing forward to singe the flesh of his cheek.
“Stop,” Kakashi can’t take it, he buries his face between Iruka’s shoulder blades. Iruka is still shaking with laughter, still too raucous and overwhelmingly warm that Kakashi wants to drown in it.
A few minutes pass by like this, with Kakashi squeezing Iruka, and Iruka sending himself into random fits of laughter.
“Kakashi--” Iruka breathes, when his laughter seems to have dissolved, and his body is no longer shaking with the force of it. He tosses the book to the couch, and Kakashi has to fight the urge to scold him. That was one of his favorites , and he’d prefer it not to get damaged. Though, given the current circumstances, Kakashi deigns to just push the hot flesh of his cheek further into Iruka’s back in silence.
A few more giggles escape Iruka when Kakashi pulls him tighter. “Kakashi,” Iruka huffs, and he rests his palms against the material of Kakashi’s sweater where they are wrapped around his stomach. Kakashi shudders against the warmth of his hands. “ Kakashi , let me turn around,” Iruka says sternly.
Kakashi’s weak to deny him, so he loosens his hold. To his surprise, Iruka doesn’t push him off, only twists around in his arms so that they come face to face. Kakashi gets the pleasure of seeing those flushed cheeks up close. Kakashi pulls him even closer.
“You know,” Iruka begins, his voice light and teasing. “If any other person had a stash of porn in their home, I might be scared off.”
Kakashi hums, stares at the bitten pink of Iruka’s lips. “You’re not scared.”
“Never,” Iruka agrees with a grin, and he wraps his arms around Kakashi’s neck. “Not even of pervy, grey old men.”
Kakashi gasps, and buries his face in Iruka’s neck. “You wound me, sensei.”
“Who knew you were so well read,” Iruka teases, burying a hand in Kakashi’s hair.
For a moment, Kakashi finds himself stilling. The intimacy of Iruka’s fingers tangling in his hair catches him off guard. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to feel genuinely at ease in another person’s company. But that had been what had drawn him in to begin with, hadn’t it? Iruka offered uncomplicated smiles and warm hands, easy silences and even easier conversations.
There was no one Kakashi felt more comfortable around. Nobody he cherished more than this.
“Iurka,” Kakashi whines against the juncture of Iruka’s neck, melting into Iruka’s embrace. He can feel Iruka’s pulse, where it is nestled against his cheek. Kakashi wonders idly if Iruka can feel his. Can feel the rapid beating of his heart, as they are pressed close like this. “That’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair?” Iruka laughs, and Kakashi can feel the vibrations of it melting into the flesh of his cheek. “That you left your unfortunate pile of porn out and I happened across it?”
Kakashi shakes his head, removing himself from the warm press of Iruka’s skin to get a better look at his face. His eyes are glassy and his hair is still falling in his face, and Kakashi has wants to place it behind his ears but doesn't. Disheveled like this, Iruka looks radiant.
“Then what is it?” Iruka asks, curiosity plain in the drawl of his voice. “Are you going to make me guess?” Iruka’s hand slips from his hair, and Kakashi immediately wishes he’d put it back.
“Hm,” Kakashi hums, tightens his grip around Iruka’s waist. He’s unsurprisingly firm, solid in Kakashi’s arms. “Haven’t decided yet.”
Iruka rolls his eyes. “Typical,” he says, and his hand drifts to Kakashi’s cheek.
Kakashi’s breath catches in his lungs, as he stares wide eyed at the man in front of him.
Iruka gently presses the pad of his thumb into the flesh of Kakashi’s cheek, right below the scar that bisects his eye. Kakashi doesn’t breathe, not as Iruka traces along the pink tissue. The room feels alive with Iruka’s warmth, alive with the press of his body against Kakashi, alive with the way his eyes seem to burn just as hot as Kakashi feels.
Iruka’s eyes drop to Kakashi’s lips, before he meets his gaze again.
“Is this okay?” Iruka whispers, and dumbly, Kakashi jerks his head in an attempt to nod.
When Iruka begins to lean in, Kakashi’s eyes shut involuntarily. Gooseflesh rises along his skin, under his sweater on his back and arms and chest, before Iruka finally closes the distance.
At first, the kiss is chaste, barely even a tickle against Kakashi’s bottom lip. And Kakashi’s still holding his breath, can’t even remember the last time he swallowed a mouthful of air, but that doesn’t matter right now.
Because Iruka’s lips are just as warm and sweet as Kakashi’s thought they’d be, fitting perfectly against his own.
Kakashi inhales sharply through his nose. Whatever held him back before breaking against the inside of his chest, and he leans forward, presses even closer to Iruka, chasing the feeling of his lips against his own. Everything is swelling up, and up, and up, and all Kakashi can do is let it come forth. Iruka grips him by the back of his head, his fingers seamlessly gliding back into his hair, scratching slightly against Kakashi’s scalp. So Kakashi presses back harder, tilts his head, tastes Iruka with the tip of his tongue.
Just as quickly as it comes, the moment shatters. The whining. Iruka rips himself from Kakashi’s arms, as if he’d been burned by the feeling of his lips. Iruka’s chest is heaving again, and Kakashi’s got half the mind to just ignore the damn dogs before Iruka points toward the patio doors, one hand clutched to his chest and eyes wide as if he’d seen a ghost.
The dogs. All of them are staring at them. Most disturbing is Pakkun, with his two large beady eyes seeing right through the both of them.
Uselessly, Kakashi begins to say, “Uh--”
Iruka begins to laugh. Kakashi just got effectively cockblocked by his dogs, and now his date was laughing at him again. He sighs, resigned.
“Iruka,” Kakashi whines, drawing out the last syllable. He slouches and walks to the doors, dragging his feet. Before he opens them, he turns to Iruka and says, “Sorry about them. They might jump on you. Ignore them and they should stop.”
Iruka stands up straighter.
The dogs don’t exactly barrel in through the open doors at a ridiculously fast speed, but it’s a damn close thing.
Iruka is almost toppled over by Uhei alone, and nearly flattened by Bull. Kakashi has to stifle a laugh into his palm at the squeal of surprise Iruka makes when Bisuke begins to lick at his ankles.
Instead of being repeatedly jumped on, Iruka decides to sit on the floor once the dogs have all gotten a good sniff of him and have calmed down. They all must recognize him somehow-- the residual scent he leaves on Kakashi’s clothes, probably.
Again, Kakashi feels his cheeks heat, as he stares at Iruka. Silently amazed at how easily he managed to wedge himself within Kakashi’s space.
“What a pretty puppy!” Iruka croons, pulling at Bull’s fat, wrinkled face and grinning. He scratches beneath Bull’s chin, which has the dog rolling over onto his stomach. Iruka happily gives Bull the belly scratches he seems so desperate for, and for one brisk moment Kakashi feels his chest twinge in jealousy-- of his dog .
Iruka’s hair has nearly all fallen out of his low bun, and he looks completely at ease and within his element, sitting on Kakashi’s living room floor and surrounded by Kakashi’s dogs.
When Uhei and Urushi’s tails each take turns repeatedly hitting Iruka’s face, Kakashi decides to have mercy and attempts to reign the pack in.
He whistles, and the effect is immediate. The dogs remove themselves, coming to stand before Kakashi expectantly. All of them are shaking with the force of their tails. Kakashi counts seven.
“Pakkun,” Kakashi says slowly, but the old bat seems perfectly at ease. Belly up and paws out. Kakashi pauses. “You know, sensei,” he begins, and Iruka meets his eyes. “He’s showing you his paws.”
A brief look of confusion passes across Iruka’s face. “So?” Iruka smiles down at the pug, and scratches his belly.
“His idea of a reward,” Kakashi explains.
A bark of laughter, which has Iruka gently soothing Pakkun, who’d jumped slightly at the sound of it. Spoiled brat, Kakashi thinks vehemently.
“Are all of your dogs as eccentric as you are, Kakashi?”
“Just that one.”
“Ah,” Iruka says. He picks Pakkun up, and gently holds him against his chest.
Again, Kakashi’s chest twinges in jealousy, as Iruka’s cheek begins to press against the top of Pakkun’s wrinkly, smug little face. Get a fucking grip .
“He’s so sweet,” Iruka coos, and moves to sit on the couch. He places the small dog in his lap, and again Pakkun stretches his tiny, pink pads up into the air.
“He’s an old fart,” Kakashi argues weakly. He takes a seat beside them, and presses his knee into Iruka’s.
Iruka looks at the dog in his lap, before he looks at Kakashi’s mournful expression.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he gapes, astonished. “You’re jealous?”
“Well,” Kakashi replies hotly. “Pakkun isn’t meant to be on a date with you, is he?”
“You hear that, Pakkun?” Iruka addresses the small dog, which earns him an alert and bright eyed glance. “Your owner is jealous! Jealous of a sweet thing like you,” he says, and then gently removes the dog from his lap to place him on the ground.
Pakkun walks off, unperturbed.
“Better, Kakashi?” Iruka grabs Kakashi’s wrist, pulls him closer.
Kakashi can only nod.
Iruka rubs his thumb across the inside of Kakashi’s wrist, across his knuckles before he says: “I had a really good time tonight.”
Kakashi presses closer, so that the side of his body presses against the warm line of Iruka’s. “Good enough for another date?”
Kakashi spares a glance towards the man next to him, and Iruka is smiling. “I think I would like that.”
His heart swells, too big for his body and not used to this. The warm, firm press of Iruka’s body, the way Iruka’s eyes crinkle around another easy smile, the way Iruka’s own scarred fingers lace with his own. All of Iruka’s tenderness, and it seems to be just for him.
“Before,” Kakashi says, and he stares at where Iruka’s and his joined hands rest in Iruka’s lap. “I was talking about how you made me feel.”
Iruka doesn’t say anything, though he stops moving his thumb across Kakashi’s knuckles.
“It isn’t fair,” Kakashi begins again, his voice much firmer than he means it to be. He stares at the wall opposite of the, unable to meet Iruka’s eyes. “That you’ve-- that you do it without meaning to.”
It’s a shit explanation, but what with the little specks of white on his vision, and the tightness in his throat, and the way his chest is about ready to crack open with the force of his beating heart, it’s all Kakashi can manage.
Iruka is silent for a few more moments before he sits up, and huffs a breath out of his nose. He turns slightly, lifting his leg just so that it is folded above Kakashi’s own leg. All the while, he removes his fingers from Kakashi’s, returns his grip to rest loosely around his wrist.
“Can I let you in on a secret, Kakashi?”
Kakashi frowns, though he says: “You can tell me anything, sensei.”
To this, Iruka’s lips twitch, as if he’s fighting to smile. “I know,” he whispers, and then he presses Kakashi’s hand flat against his chest, right above his heart.
For a thick moment, Kakashi’s mind reels. Iruka’s chest is warm, and the thin fabric of his shirt is all that separates Kakashi from really touching him.
A tiny, rapid beating, nudging Kakashi’s own pulse.
Kakashi’s mouth parts, unsure of what to say.
“You do this without meaning to,” Iruka adds a moment later. “So, we’re even.”
Kakashi isn’t sure how long he stares at Iruka, though it feels both like a second and an hour and too much and not enough. Iruka’s eyes don’t shy away; they never do. He’s always taken Kakashi’s strangeness in stride, has always met him head first.
Before he can second guess himself, Kakashi surges forward, using the one hand not resting against Iruka’s heart to guide his lips to Kakashi’s own.
Iruka’s heartbeat jumps, and Kakashi can feel it.
“Iruka,” Kakashi mumbles between taking a breath. He goes to kiss him again, but Iruka ducks out of the way. Kakashi begins to kiss his jaw, not willing to quit before Iruka releases a breathy little laugh. “What?”
“The dogs,” Iruka whispers a second later.
They were staring at them again. All eight of them lined up and sitting still, with Pakkun sitting the closest.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Kakashi groans into Iruka’s neck. He removes himself from Iruka’s warmth and is about to put the dogs downstairs or something when Iruka stops him.
“We have time,” Iruka laughs gently. His hair is messy and his lips are a shade or two darker than the blush on his cheeks, bitten and kissed pink. “Why don’t we watch a movie?”
Kakashi throws another disdainful look at the dogs before he nods at Iruka. They do have time, now and after, and Kakashi had never minded spending it with Iruka.
By the time Kakashi has fussed over where Iruka and him will sit -- making both of them as comfortable as possible under a mountain of blankets -- and fetched them both something to drink, it’s nearly ten in the evening.
Kakashi’s not one to get tired early, but he does feel the telltale signs of exhaustion pulling at his eyelids when Iruka finally decides on a movie. After the school week, and the day spent almost entirely in a state of muted anxiety, Kakashi feels fatigue in all of his muscles. Kakashi leans heavily on Iruka, the other man wrapping a warm arm around Kakashi’s shoulder. Despite the firmness of his body, Iruka is an excellent pillow.
When Kakashi opens his eyes again, he’s laying on top of Iruka and the sun is far too bright for it to be ten p.m.
Groggily, he lifts his head while keeping his eyes shut against the sun’s assault. Attempting to lift his arm, only to find it’s being sandwiched between his body and Iruka’s--
Kakashi’s eyes bulge open, uncaring of the sunlight’s burning.
Iruka slept over. Quite literally, Kakashi surmises, as he stares at the relaxed curve of Iruka’s mouth, at the dried drool at the corner of his lips. Kakashi relaxes, easing back into the feeling of having Iruka beneath him. Laying his head against Iruka’s chest, Kakashi’s cheek presses into the beating of his heart; like how it feels, a gentle and steady reminder of their conversation from last night.
A few perfect minutes pass like this, before Iruka is blinking his eyes open against the sun, just as Kakashi had.
“Good morning,” Kakashi drawls lazily, and frees one of his hands to press a thumb into Iruka’s lips. He trails his hand back down to Iruka’s chest, rests it above his chest.
“Morning,” Iruka mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. He closes his eyes again, only to pull Kakashi closer to his chest.
A moment of silence, and Kakashi is content to fall back asleep, only for Iruka to burst awake in a flurry of limbs. In his abrupt movement he knocks Kakashi off, and the man tumbles onto the floor, hard.
“Kakashi, are you alright?” Iruka asks, and he somehow manages to sound both concerned and amused at the same time. When Iruka peers over the side of the couch, the sunlight gives his hair a shining, haloed effect.
Kakashi breathes deeply out of his nose, and sits up to rub a hand against the back of his neck. “Feelin’ great, sensei.”
Iruka laughs, and bends over to kiss Kakashi on the mouth. “You’re cute,” he says, as Kakashi chases his lips for another kiss. “Unfortunately, I have to get going.” He pauses to dig his phone out from under the pile of blankets. When he turns it on, he winces. “Okay, yeah. Have to get going like ten minutes ago.”
“You aren’t going to let me cook breakfast for you?”
Iruka stands, and rearranges his clothes so they don’t look so rumpled. Kakashi stands then, and ignores the way his joints ache with it. He stares at Iruka, another protest on his lips, before Iruka looks at him sympathetically.
“Another time,” he promises. “Have to go get my kid. Thank you again for the date, Kakashi. I had a great time.” He blushes, and then, presses another kiss to Kakashi’s lips. A goodbye.
“I’m glad,” Kakashi says, and kisses Iruka deeper, wrapping one of his arms around his waist.
They kiss for a few more seconds, before Kakashi breaks apart. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, sensei?” He tightens his grip on Iruka’s waist.
“Ass,” Iruka laughs against Kakashi’s lips. “I do.” Another kiss. This one is much slower, lingers gently just as the warmth of Iruka’s body does.
Iruka presses closer, kisses Kakashi harder, buries his hands into Kakashi’s hair, before Kakashi begins to kiss the side of Iruka’s mouth, his cheeks, the sharp corner of his jaw. Iruka’s hands tighten in his hair, a tiny little gasp escaping his lips.
“I’m getting mixed signals here,” Kakashi admits into the flesh of Iruka’s neck, as he slowly trails a line of kisses down his neck.
“Fuck,” Iruka mumbles, and Kakashi pulls back. Iruka’s lips are kiss-swollen, and Kakashi dips to kiss him again before Iruka pushes gently at his chest. He falls forward, and Kakashi wraps him even closer. “I do have to get going,” Kakashi can hear to pout in Iruka’s voice from where he’s smashed his cheek against Kakashi’s shoulder. “I told Mikoto I would take both of the boys into the school.”
“Better not to make the Uchiha wait,” Kakashi says, solemn, and loosens his hold on Iruka wasit. Iruka lingers for a few more moments in Kakashi’s arms, before he pulls himself away and goes to put his shoes on.
“I’ll text you later,” Iruka says, after he’s gathered his things, and put his hair back up into his usual ponytail. He presses another chaste kiss into Kakashi’s lips, and then is gone with the click of Kakashi’s front door.
All of the dogs have sat in a line, similarly to the way they had before. The only difference is that their tails are wagging, their mouths open and drooling as they pant.
Pakkun trots to where Kakashi is standing, looks at Kakashi and then expectantly at the door.
“Yeah, me too.” Kakashi agrees, and he waits for the sound of Iruka’s car to leave his driveway before he turns to his dogs and says, as sternly as he can manage: “Don’t you guys ever embarrass me like that again.”