Work Text:
The Admin Complex looks pretty dead from the outside. With only one window illuminated by an overhead light, most shinobi have packed up and gone home for the night.
Considering the achy agitation in his chest, Kakashi knows precisely who is still inside, burning the midnight oil.
He had been restlessly circling the village for the last several hours, waiting for an impending crisis to drop into his lap like they so often do. None had come, so Kakashi ignored that niggling little feeling at the back of his mind that he still needed to feel useful and instead turned to head home — but then he remembered Iruka said he’d be working late at the Academy.
So, here he is, giving a little nod and wave to the shinobi — Inuzuka Hana and another chūnin that Kakashi’s never worked with before — on patrol duty as they pass him by before making his way inside the empty halls of the Academy.
He’d never thought of himself as clingy by nature before, but ever since he finally choked down his self-loathing, gathered up his courage, and asked Iruka out on a date — that turned into two, then three, then thirty — Kakashi’s found himself utterly off-kilter any time he’s in the village without a direct line of sight on his sweet little sensei. Minimum. Because what he really wants is to wrap himself around Iruka’s back, to be carried around like a baby onbaa .
Honestly, even he can admit that it’s ridiculous. But the thing is…Iruka doesn’t mind.
In fact, any time Kakashi follows his scent and tracks him across the village, he’s already smiling brightly and turning to greet him. If they’re at home, he’ll open his arms and let Kakashi hug him and rub his cheeks into the crook of Iruka’s neck, kiss his temple, play with his hair, or absently suck on his earlobe — which, okay, even Kakashi can admit that that last one is a little bit odd. But Iruka always just rolls with it. Sometimes he’ll shiver and tell Kakashi something tickles, but he always gives a happy little sigh and settles into contentment nonetheless. So. He doesn’t seem to mind it at all when Kakashi just drapes himself onto him and it’s starting to make Kakashi think that…maybe he actually welcomes it.
At first, Kakashi thinks his nose may have betrayed him because when he makes it to the top floor, he almost thinks that someone just forgot to turn out the lights. But, no —
“Over here,” Iruka says, grinning as Kakashi rounds the doorway and steps a bit further in. He’s leaning around the column that blocks his view from the door.
“What a poor design,” Kakashi comments as he saunters over, hands shoved into his pockets. He eyes it, only a little disdainfully (because how dare anything obstruct his view of Iruka). “Who thought surrounding the column would be a good layout for the teacher’s desks? Doesn’t that make meetings kind of awkward?”
Iruka snorts, but leans his head against Kakashi’s as he leans over the back of his chair for a hug. “A little bit,” he admits. “Believe me, I’ve already suggested changing it, but I keep getting outvoted because it was like this when most of us started and people are terrified of change or disrespecting tradition.”
Kakashi stays draped over his shoulders, peering at the paperwork that’s holding him hostage. “Tradition to…not be able to see the people you’re talking to?”
Shrugging, Iruka flaps a hand and says, “I don’t know, man, I just work here.”
That makes Kakashi snort. (It also makes him want to suck on Iruka’s fingers, but that’s neither here nor there.)
“How much longer do you think you have?” Kakashi asks, curious but also greedy: he wants to have Iruka’s attention all for himself.
Iruka hums, scribbling down another couple of words. “Maybe an hour or so?”
An hour. It’s not ideal, but Kakashi’s worked with worse before.
He chokes back his sigh and instead hums against Iruka’s temple, pressing a kiss there before detaching himself. Starting toward the nearby chair of one of Iruka’s cohorts, Kakashi pauses to lift his arms over his head in a stretch.
“One more question and then I’ll be quiet,” Kakashi prefaces, dragging the chair over and plopping down into it. “Did you already grab some dinner or should I go home and get something started for you?”
Again, Iruka hums in consideration. Absently, he puts the end of his pen into his mouth and gnaws on the cap. “Can we just pick up some ramen on the way?” he asks, making his eyes all big to better bat his lashes.
Kakashi laughs and tugs on Iruka’s earlobe to quell the urge he has to lip at it. “Sure,” he says, “Though…I’m going to start packing you an extra bento if I know you’re going to be working late.”
That makes Iruka pout just a bit, but he stiffens, his expression lighting up before he’s enraptured with getting down whatever thought had stolen his attention. He doesn’t reply, either, delving back into his work with a single-minded focus that Kakashi usually only sees in very specific circumstances: a) in the bedroom when he’s trying his damnedest to make Kakashi forget his own name, and b) at the kotatsu when he’s working on that fūinjutsu hobby of his.
Which means…he’s actually enjoying himself.
It puts a secret little smile on Kakashi’s face, tucked safely away beneath his mask. As quietly as he can, Kakashi pulls out his Icha Icha, Paradise not Tactics for once, and settles in for a while —
Or at least…he tries to. The only problem is that he isn’t touching Iruka, that he’s close but still so far away.
Though he has no idea how much time has elapsed, he thinks he’s doing a fairly decent job of keeping that restlessness to himself as Iruka keeps scratching away with his chewed up pen, but —
“ Anata ,” Iruka says, gentle and a bit hesitant, “Just thirty more minutes, okay?”
Kakashi shudders a bit, blowing out a sigh. “Yeah, sorry,” he says, rubbing nervously at the back of his head. Again, quietly, he repeats, “Sorry.”
Iruka’s smile is so gentle, so knowing. He gets this twinkle in his eye says, “I know and I see you. I love you, anyway,” that means everything to Kakashi; aloud, though, Iruka licks his lips and asks, “Would it help if I gave you something to do?”
He watches the way Iruka scratches at his cheek and notes the faintest of blushes highlighting that charming scar, then nods a bit bashfully. It’s…embarrassing, honestly, that Iruka can read him so well and know exactly what he needs.
Okay, maybe not ‘embarrassing’ but definitely humbling; perhaps it’s just disconcerting to be so obvious even in his stillness, as clear for Iruka to read as the words on that paper.
Either way, Kakashi watches as Iruka first leans around that stupid ass column and forms the seals for a privacy seal that Kakashi’s never seen used outside of either T&I or the actual Hokage’s office. But he’s not complaining, nor is he going to act on his curiosity, because then Iruka’s waving him over, crooking a finger toward the floor.
Which can only mean one thing:
Kakashi drops to his knees, delight sparking up his spine as he shuffles in close and maneuvers his way beneath Iruka’s desk. Iruka’s hand slides into his hair the moment he’s near enough; he pets through the strands as Kakashi nuzzles in close, lifting his hands to untuck Iruka’s soft cock from his pants.
“Just hold it for me, alright, Anata ?” Iruka says from beyond the wooden surface, “Can you do that for me?”
And what magical words — given this task, Kakashi’s finally able to touch Iruka in a way that won’t distract him, as long as he does it right:
Tucking his mask beneath his chin, Kakashi lets the saliva gather in his mouth before he takes Iruka’s cock in between his lips.
Beneath the desk like this, all Kakashi can smell and taste and feel is Iruka; it’s like the entire outside world has been cut off, and all that’s left is the soft, silky weight of Iruka’s cock on his tongue, stretching the corners of his lips even though he isn’t at all erect.
“Can you breathe okay?” Iruka asks softly, his hand steadying Kakashi by the nape. He must feel Kakashi nod, because he breathes out, “Amazing.”
Just holding Iruka in his mouth like this is — it’s so nice, because he doesn’t have to think. All he has to do is hold Iruka and breathe, melting into the feeling of intimacy.
He imagines a leaf, snapped free by the stem and floating gently on the wind, letting the breeze lift it through the air and letting it dance on the currents. Sometimes those currents swing it high, and other times it nearly dips low enough to touch the ground, but it always evens out somehow, caught as it is beneath the sun’s gaze.
It’s peaceful, really, the way Iruka’s filling Kakashi with so much contentment that his eye slips shut and he all but purrs, humming out a noise that —
“ Ahh , careful,” Iruka gently chides. He’s apparently dropped his pen because he reaches down to smooth both hands through Kakashi’s hair, petting the springy strands back from his crooked headband. “I’m not looking for a blowjob, just for you to keep me warm. Can you do that for me?”
As carefully as he can manage, Kakashi nods. “Mhm.”
Almost absently, Iruka says, “Good boy,” and — he picks up his pen, but he must feel the way that Kakashi’s throat tightens around him, because he pets down over Kakashi’s cheek and cups the underside of his chin. His fingertips skim over Kakashi’s throat, just softly reminding him to be still, be quiet, be good.
And honestly, once Kakashi forms those three instructions into a mantra, it’s so easy to just let himself float along, settling into the rhythm of Iruka’s hands and disappearing beneath the sound of his pen scratching along the paper.
Minutes upon minutes pass and Kakashi just floats, resting his face against the humid heat of Iruka’s groin as he cradles his soft cock on his tongue, careful to keep it cushioned against his teeth — at least until Iruka’s voice floats into Kakashi’s vague headspace:
“You were so good for me, Anata ,” Iruka softly croons, “You can stop whenever you’re ready.” His fingers work kindly at the crux of Kakashi’s jaw, smoothing away the tension and working out the kink that Kakashi hadn’t even noticed.
Slowly and gently, he opens his mouth wide enough for Iruka to slip out, still soft and wet and warm from Kakashi’s mouth. His hands are shaking as he lifts them to safely tuck Iruka away, and at first, he’s not entirely sure why, but when Iruka scoots back enough to help Kakashi upright from where he’d been kneeling, he —
“Oh, Kakashi ,” Iruka breathes, looking up at Kakashi with awe, “That made you come?”
Kakashi looks down at his pants and — his cock isn’t hard, at least not anymore, but there’s a very distinct pattern of dark splotches there at the apex of his legs. “Oh.”
Iruka lifts his hands to pet over Kakashi’s cheeks, stroking over two salty-wet trails of tears. “You were amazing ,” Iruka repeats, “I’m so, so proud of you. You made me so happy.”
The praise lights Kakashi up almost as much as having Iruka in his mouth had; he feels full, body and spirit, and isn’t quite sure what to make of it, so he does what he can. He listens, basking in the praise as Iruka asks him what he wants and lets him cling.
They still need to pack up Iruka’s papers, grab some dinner, and clean up Kakashi’s pants, but for now? For now, Kakashi’s more than happy to just keep on floating, safe and warm and content in Iruka’s arms.