Chapter Text
It was the middle of the night when someone’s poorly hidden chakra signature awoke the pale haired ninja. He catches a glimpse of his alarm clock as he slips into motion with his good eye—3:32 am—rising from his bed to his feet in one fluid motion. He keeps it quiet, smooth, already on alert as he makes his way to the front door. Each step is quieted by the rain falling just outside, he doesn’t have to work that hard at stealth in storms like this. Climbing down the stairs he feels the familiar chakra make move behind the entrance to his home. It wades back and forth at his apartment door, unsure and uneasy. Where had he felt that energy before? He blames his inability to call such a strong chakra on his slightly groggy state of mind. His body was being brought forward on fight or flight reflexes, his emotions and rational thinking were a step behind his instincts. He parsed through his memory with his fingers rolling the kunai in his palm. His heartbeat thunders in his ears as he approaches one step at a time, his mind working out who’s chakra it is exactly far too slow, he might as well just go and look.
He takes a peek through the peep-hole in the front door, his breath catches despite himself at the image that is presented to him. Pulling back he takes his time gathering himself, the kunai tightens against his bare fingers, suddenly unsure and pensive. He prepares himself for what opening this door could mean, not daring to back out to the whims of sleep with such a presence roaming outside his door. The figure outside stills, the chakra is still ragged, and rough but the pacing back and forth is gone from the signature.
His hand grips the brass colored handle with a silent reserve to see this through to the bitter end.
Yanking the door open, the thundering sound of the heavy rain floods his ear but he can’t hear it, it’s all white noise except for the face across him. He’d made an instinctual jab with the kunai in his hand toward the other, it stopped at Sasuke’s throat, the metal pressing uneasily at the skin there. Dark eyes spin with a tint of red before cooling into a confident brown so dark his pupil is hidden in its depth. They’re hyper focused on Kakashi’s face, ignoring the sudden movement of the intruding arm as if Sasuke knew that the strike wouldn’t hit.
There’s a pause of just watching. Watching Sasuke’s ragged uneven breath. Watching the furrow of a brow deepen in pain. Watching a pale hand colored red with blood twitch closer to an open wound protectively.
Suddenly, Kakashi can hear again, the rush of rain makes him blink, his eyes caught on Sasuke’s once he finds them again. There’s no pride in the Uchiha as he looks, no point Kakashi assumes, the scuffed up drenched clothing, split lips, various bruises and excessive bleeding—Sasuke is in no position to boast, to raise his chin in indignation. There’s even fear in dark pupils if he squints, and even more surprising is the look of pleading. Sasuke’s begging with his eyes, any more—like say he raised his voice, and spoke into the atmosphere his obvious need—he’d probably break in half from the sheer amount anger at having to feel so weak, to have to stoop so low, he’d probably sooner kill Kakashi than beg verbally.
Kakashi strangely is having a similar issue, he can’t find his voice to answer the plea even if it was given to him. He steps to the side in a silent acceptance, that is after shakily lowering the kunai pressed to his former student’s throat.
Slowly, on weak limbs, Sasuke limps past the doorway that is now open of him. He waits in the open living room that gives way to the stairs behind him and a kitchen to the right. That’s where Kakashi finds him when he finally processes the reality of Sasuke being here in his apartment just a few steps away. The sight when he turns his back to the front door, puddles of water left in the Uchiha’s wake, and the Uchiha himself is a still figure in practically translucent white dressings. Different from when he’d last seen him, still sporting Orochimaru’s mark and that strange purple roping about his waist.
As if on cue, Sasuke pulls his small knife from somewhere on his person. He viciously starts sawing at the rope around his abdomen, he makes short work of it and it slaps against the hard floor in a wet heap. Sasuke heaves a deep breath that seems too labor intensive for the simple action before his knees give out during a sudden coughing fit. Kakashi makes his way to the other, slow to keep from surprising the younger; he sinks to one knee beside the other. The raven haired man—no longer a boy on his team, a damn there full grown man— doesn’t react to the closeness, he seems too focused on breathing and gathering himself. Finding his hand on the raven’s back, Sasuke unfolds from atop himself to look at him.
“This is gonna suck, but don’t kill me.”
He peels the soaked white material that used to act and behave like clothing, off of the young man’s body, gentle as it rolls away from the jarring gash in the Uchiha’s side. Kakashi presses the pads of his fingers into the skin over his ribs. He eyes the flinch as the rush of breath escapes the other in a hiss, he thumbs the bruising over his side with even more care to not elicit pain. A broken rib, probably why his breathing was thrown off, or maybe just a bruised one. Kakashi’s medical knowledge was experience based, a broken rib hurt about as bad as a real fucking bruised one to him. Looking at the sheer amount of bruises on top of scars on pale skin, he’s reminded of himself, his own experiences that had left him this wounded. His eye shifted up to the younger's face. Dark eyebrows have long since pinched together, the skin in between scrunches up, the kid’s in serious pain to be showing it. Again not kid— how long had it been, the person before him was at least 20, maybe younger maybe older. Damn he’s lost track of time. If he asks Naruto how old he is then…
Irises the color of coal are on him again, it’s then that he’d realized he’d been sitting and reminiscing, if you could call it that, for a good minute. Long enough for Sasuke to notice, and his face to resume that emotionless expression. He’s kicked into action by the subtle tensing of muscle underneath his finger tips, the copy nin is up and moving toward the bathroom when his mind finally catches up.
While sifting through his cabinet for the medkit he’d stuffed in the guest bathroom—a medkit he really hasn’t seen since the time he’d first moved in, he hears a thump. Kakashi slips past the corner of the doorway into the living room, and watches Sasuke try to raise himself onto his feet. Black hair falls over his ears as his head points downward, it’s a moment more of watching until comprehension dawns on Kakashi. The kid’s making an attempt to follow him into the small guest bathroom, he’d smirk if the situation weren’t so tense.
“Easy, easy. I’ll come to you.”
He announces and the shuffling stills. Crouching in front of his former student, he starts opening the medkit. Sasuke’s already practically undressed, white soaked top is pooling at his sides, so on to step two.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Kakashi pulls in close, circling his arms around the other’s pale waist as he bandages the very ugly wound. The action shouldn’t be sexual as it is and he curses the Icha-Icha books for his dirty mind.
“...Orochi...mmm….”
Sasuke’s free hand reaches up and grasps the cloth over Kakashi’s shoulder, he tenses at the bandage growing tightening about his middle. His voice cutting off into a gentle groan at the painful sensation. The other hand holds the thick white pad directly over the wound as Kakashi works to secure under the bandages. Kakashi pauses, surprised to receive an answer,
“My bad..”
He apologizes, realizes he’d hit a tender spot in conversation and physically. As he loops the bandage around he pulls back looking Sasuke in the face as he does, they’re nose to nose when Sasuke turns to face him. Something passes through those dark eyes, Kakashi gets caught trying to analyze the emotion crossing the man’s face, he doesn’t recognize his hands have stopped moving again.
Sasuke sighs out when Kakashi’s pushing forward again, tightening the bandage as he goes around once more. They’re faces inch closer again, and at the slight pain of the pressure against the wound, Sasuke shuts his eyes while he tilts his forehead forward until it’s resting against Kakashi’s.
The copy nin pauses again, his eye roaming the other’s face for a reason, an answer. Sasuke sniffles as he heaves a deep breath, pressing his forehead into Kakashi’s with purpose.
Tears run down his wet face as his breathing becomes unsteady. Sasuke’s hair is wet where it lay in between, and the hand on Kakashi’s shoulder tenses, fingers curling forcefully.
“Sensei… I…”
Comes out a choked sob, the surprises are unending for Kakashi tonight. He’s watching Sasuke unfold to him, crumbling against him. Once the shock passes over, he takes the time to think of a response.
“I’ve got you, kid, I’ve got you.”
Sasuke shakes his head, forehead slipping against his, still wet.
“I couldn’t—there was a chance….that fucking bastard took so much, figured I’d take more..”
One eye lifts to find Sasuke’s eyes still forcefully shut, he finds a sorrowful smirk where a grimace used to be. Processing Sasuke's words, his hands make another round about his torso.
“He’s not fucking dead, sensei….he should be fucking dead…..all he’s taken...he’ll be back for more…”
He sees the smirk leave, tearful eyes open and there’s red in those irises. The black prongs of his sharingan swirl once, twice, then fade into familiar depths of that piercing deep brown. A pale hand reaches for his other shoulder, Kakashi doesn’t break the eye contact Sasuke starts. Even now, wounded, crying and trembling, Sasuke’s eyes dare him to look away, a good description for the boy himself and the situation at hand, a challenge.
“You failed to kill a legendary sanin and lived? I think you should celebrate, Sasuke, not cry.”
Sasuke snorts at him, and it turns into a hiss as Kakashi finishes wrapping him up. Sasuke is still clutching onto him, the grip releases with a sigh and sniffle. Kakashi eyes him, works his good eye down the kid’s legs.
“Those need to come off.”
He nods at the pants that stood in the way of the possible cuts and scrapes running up Sasuke’s legs. Leaning back on one hand, Sasuke works to remove them, the boy’s not able to tense his core without hurting himself, leaning back without his hand plastered to the floor will end in him square on his back. So one handed he struggles a moment, Kakashi steps in to help.
“Here, I’ve got you.”
His hands find grip at the edges of the kid’s pants, Sasuke eyes him all the while, the kid’s pale hands find the wooden flooring behind him. Once Kakashi has enough purchase, he glides them down the boy’s hips, on cue when Kakashi can’t get them down any further, Sasuke lifts his hips in assistance.
Kakashi thought that bandaging a wound of topless Sasuke was vaguely sexual, pulling down Sasuke’s pants in the slow fashion that he was—well, he supposed it couldn’t get any more vaguely sexual than that.
His one eye makes the mistake of rising to meet Sasuke’s gaze, and he physically has to swallow and convince himself that there isn’t a faint pink tinge to the kid’s cheeks.
Kakashi recomposes himself as he leaves Sasuke’s garment to the side, he looks at the more obvious wounds like the one bleeding directly under the man’s knee. It’s not imperative to wrap, it’s small, long and thin like a big paper cut. There’s a bruise that clings to the whole of his ankle, remnants of a cuff or a chain being a resident about the kid’s ankle too long. He eyes some bruising that concerns him more than the rest, it’s lighter in shade, circular and there are several dotted across the boy’s upper thighs. It looks all too familiar.
Then, as if to confirm his suspicions, there’s a bite mark, fresh, all red and angry, glaring up at him on the kid’s left thigh.
“Fuck, kid…”
He curses through a deep sigh, it’s more for himself than it is in any conversational sense. Sasuke’s breath hitches, and his legs bend up and out of Kakashi’s reach and space.
“Is that… what he took..?”
.
Sasuke is still sitting there on his floor, right where the kitchen turns into the living room in the open space. All bandaged up and practically naked, his pants strewn where Kakashi's left them. He’s got boxer-briefs on, those are soaked to the core like the rest of him, at best Sasuke is a wet mess half curled up on Kakashi’s floor after their ‘talk’. And Kakashi can’t think of doing anything about it. He’s standing in front of his stairwell, sloped against the nearest wall, trying his hardest to pull himself together. There’s an anger running over and through his bones that he can’t shake, a sorrow that pulls underneath it all. He can’t see through it to comfort his student, who’s probably reliving the worst of it because of a small conversation.
He curses to himself and pushes off the wall, and comes back to crouching in front of Sasuke. He inches close as he thinks would be comfortable for the other, and opens his mouth to offer the kid a distraction because he can’t trust himself at the moment to offer anything of true comfort.
“I don’t show this to, well, anybody if I’m honest. Since you’ve been so open with me for once, I figured I’d be just as open in return.”
Dark eyes widen as the mask comes down, Sasuke’s eyes roam his bare face in unhidden wonder. Sasuke leans forward just to look, the shock taking over across his face. The kid swallows, and Kakashi’s one eye follows the pale throat jump with motion.
“What would Naruto think...of you showing me this..?”
Kakashi tilts his head to one side, what did Naruto have to do with any of this? Sasuke takes notice of Kakashi’s confusion, and parts his lips to speak, again.
“When we were younger, Naruto was jealous that you chose to train me. He thought I was your favorite. He just didn’t realize…”
There’s a pale finger pressing into the prominent mole underneath his lips, Kakashi waits for the other to finish while Sasuke’s finger shifts to outlining his jaw.
“He didn’t realize a legendary sanin had picked him.”
Sasuke’s eyes lift from Kakashi’s jaw to look his former teacher in the eye as he finishes, his hand withdraws at the end of his small tale too.
“You sound jealous now, was I not good enough?”
Kakashi’s smirk is clear as day without the mask, he’s glad to see Sasuke turn his head downward in an attempt to hide a smile of his own. The kid wasn’t lost just yet.
“Shut up.”
“It’s good to have you back kid.”
Kakashi opens his arms for a hug, not advancing, the kid can tell him to fuck off if he doesn’t want a hug—Kakashi had put his bets on Sasuke doing something like that—
He doesn’t expect the cold of soaked black strands pressing into his neck and chin, the warmth of Sasuke’s bare arms reaching over his clothed shoulders. He was never the hugging type, Sasuke neither, but here they are, engrossed in each other’s arms.
“I’m not back, yet, sensei.”
Kakashi’s hold doesn’t cease around Sasuke, he doesn’t take a pause in his thoughts:
“You had to go and ruin it, huh?”
Sasuke snorts over his shoulder, his breath is soft against his ear,
“I said yet, sensei, yet. Don’t tell me you're going deaf on me?”
The copy nin can only grumble, “I’m not that old, yet.” ‘Am I?’ is left off because Sasuke would chew his insecurities alive just for the hell of it.
“Wait—“ he pulls back from the embrace, “You’re actually planning on coming back?”
Kakashi hasn’t let go of the kid even though he’s put some distance between them. He supposed he’s still holding on because he’s shocked to hear that Sasuke showing up at his doorstep isn’t a one off. In reality, he’s holding on to prove to his one good eye that this is real, and that Sasuke isn’t going to disappear when he blinks. Pale hands are still clinging to his shoulders when his student nods.
“I am. I intend to. When this is all over.”
‘This’ is more complicated than the simple word implies, and Kakashi’s eye goes dark just thinking about what ‘this’ entails.
“You don’t have to do this alone, you know, Naruto would help you wipe the floor with Orochimaru—hell, I’d do it right now.”
He gently squeezes the kid’s shoulder unconsciously, the anger at the revelation of the depth of Orochimaru’s torture seeping through in his action for a moment.
“No—I can’t…I need to do this myself.”
Sasuke grips his former teacher’s shoulder as he levels his hard gaze against the determination across from him. Kakashi nods without breaking their eye contact, and without lifting his hand from the younger.
“Right, well, I’ve got some sleep to get back to. Let’s get you set up in the spare room so that I may sleep.”
He’s patting a pale exposed shoulder before he’s shifting over to the kid’s side, hauling an arm that is far more muscular than he remembers, around his neck.
..