Work Text:
Kakashi is, and always has been, a patient person. Slow, methodical, deliberate action best suited a shinobi of his caliber. However, passion trickles just below the surface, repressing flames from igniting into a raging inferno. Iruka, on the other hand, has tested such valuable restraint...
Kakashi has bent, true, but he has never broken.
He’s picked apart Iruka’s defenses, one by one, content that his otherwise iron-clad resolve will erode once and for all, and he will realize what it is that Kakashi has to offer. A slow, lingering dance that lures one close without binding them. A dance that has lasted for years at this point, and Kakashi can only hope that once it concludes, Iruka will choose to stay.
Its end is signaled by oncoming war...
When his gaze meets the night sky, he can see their future laid out in the plentiful stars before them. A shared meal between the two has come to its conclusion, but they’re comfortable walking onward together, side-by-side. Kakashi can feel calloused fingers brush along the inside of his wrist, bridging the gap in between his sleeve and glove. The shudder such action wrought can’t be blamed on the cool breeze that helps to lull the restless to sleep. Iruka pulls away at long last, and Kakashi can feel his heart sink. The grip the chūnin has on his satchel tightens, then loosens, tightens, then loosens...and Kakashi knows that it’s merely a matter of time.
Finally, Iruka comes to a crawl, and he waits for what he’s always longed for...
“Kakashi-san, would you like to join me for a drink?”
“I’d love to, sensei.”
The words glide smoothly as if over the flat surface of still waters, and Kakashi follows the teacher’s lead, step by step, perfectly in sync. Iruka is warm, and nervous, but certain in his decision. Kakashi has wanted this for so long, and for so long he’s denied just how much he’s wanted it, but no more.
A brush with death is not merely a brush when you have actually laid among the dead, and if not for Naruto’s conviction, he would have never had the chance at all. However, he never has and never will grow to regret saving Iruka’s life. He would never regret dying to try and further the survival of this village he’s grown to love more than anything else, and this village houses a man who has nothing but love and love to give to all those around him...
Kakashi wants that love for himself in a way it never has been before. The scathing of stern words are steeped in nothing but caring and love, and Iruka has scorned him plenty over the years. When he thinks about it, he can’t help but to smile and chuckle a little...his fondness only has the capacity to grow from here.
A wilted flower exposed to light and allowed the time to heal. It appears possible now more than ever before, and he can’t quite understand why. There’s a good chance he won’t make it back, but if he does, he promises to make it worth their while. Iruka doesn’t feel the need to comment, but the grin spreading across the plains of his face are more than enough. It’s odd, to be so happy in such uncertainty, but there is a grounding effect to be found in closing a long, unanswered question.
...Do you love me, Iruka-sensei? Kakashi knows that he does, but he wants to see it firsthand. Feel it. There’s no need to say it. He wants to confirm it in the only way most shinobi know how to express themselves: action.
The drinks are a simple formality as far as Kakashi is concerned, but it’s nice all the same. A bridge for them to be able to close the gap between them. Kakashi enjoys the flush that spreads across Iruka’s adoring face, highlighting that scar he knows better than his own. His smile is soft, open and vulnerable. A byproduct of Kakashi having removed his mask to indulge in a shared bottle of sake that Iruka chose now, of all times, to open. It’s amicable and engaging, but ultimately, it’s not enough...
Kakashi doesn’t wish to feel light, like a leaf on the wind, but syrupy, sweet and yearning. He wants Iruka close to him, closer than he is even now, and the other man must sense it, too, because he leans into Kakashi’s side. His nose nuzzles against Kakashi’s neck and throat, and it’s stunning how Iruka’s gained access to all the most vulnerable, sensitive parts of him. His breath is warm, absolutely inviting, and Kakashi can feel his heart thump a little louder, a little harder against its cage...wanting nothing more than to be set free. To run wild in this very moment.
The kotatsu is warm and cozy with the cusp of autumn hinging upon the crisp night air. Kakashi feels the urge to bring up Naruto, about his upcoming seventeenth birthday looming overhead, but he can’t bring himself to. It might not be something that any of them get to see, let alone celebrate, and he can’t swallow past the lump that forms in his throat as a result. He’s resigned himself to certain death at this point, but he can’t stomach the thought of Iruka dying. His former students, while grown in their own right, are still those fledgling shinobi he tried his best to guide.
He didn’t want any of them to die, and yet, he felt hopeless to do much of anything at this point to stop it.
He can’t stomach it, and so he reaches for his once long forgotten sake cup, taking comfort in its soothing burn. He’s selfish, he knows, but he can’t help himself. His hand snakes its way up along Iruka’s back, feeling the length of his spine under his fingertips, up until he reaches the slope of Iruka’s beautiful neck. His fingers have always longed to remove that studiously placed tie that has always kept the sensei’s hair just out of his reach. His breath hitches as their eyes meet, a sense of trepidation befalling him, but only for a brief moment in time.
Instead of tossing it aside, Kakashi readily claims it for himself, looping it around his wrist as his fingers fan-out. Iruka’s lips part somewhat in open surprise, his rich eyes lustrous even in the soft lighting that spills in from the kitchen. Kakashi can no longer resist the other’s innocent charm, taking those lips he’s only ever dreamed about for himself. It is soft and shy until it’s not. Iruka kisses him back readily enough, his arms looping around Kakashi’s neck, desperate to bring him closer.
The taste of sake is overwhelming on their tongues, but he can taste the subtle essence that belongs to Iruka alone well enough to know he’ll never be able to forget it. An addiction that can only grow from here, he muses, as he pulls Iruka’s bottom lip in between his teeth, reveling in the sensei’s soft moan. He indulges in the lost look that crosses Iruka’s face when he dares to pull away, but it’s only for a quick draw of breath before he’s back again. It’s clear by the adoration in those dark eyes that the two of them desire the same things. Kakashi almost can’t bring himself to believe it, but he needs it all the same.
Iruka is halfway sprawled across Kakashi’s lap when he comes to the realization that the living room floor isn’t the place he wants to make this official, but he almost can’t bring himself to part from such open temptation. The air between them is thick, filled with overwhelming tension and want, Iruka’s lips kiss bitten and damp with a need that only Kakashi can fulfill. With regret, he pulls further away, cupping one of Iruka’s already flushed cheeks.
“Bedroom?” Iruka asks, his hips coming to a slow grind.
“Yes, please,” Kakashi murmurs, following Iruka’s lead once more as they break away only to mend back together again.
A considerably loud part of himself can’t believe that this is finally happening, that Iruka’s hand is in his as they make their way to a private space that Kakashi has only ever dreamt of. It’s so loud, in fact, that it is nearly deafening. The only thing more clamoring is the thumping of his heart and the pounding of blood rushing through his ears.
After a long moment, when it’s clear that neither of them appears quite sure how to proceed forward, Kakashi is able to quiet his mind like he’s been taught to do. This is what he wants, this has always been what he’s wanted. He takes action, pulling Iruka in for another kiss, hard and desperate and demanding in equal measure. Iruka clings to him like Kakashi’s the only thing keeping him from drowning, and he finds that he could kiss him forever and a day if only the teacher would allow for it. His hands seek out more of Iruka’s otherwise hidden figure, feeling smooth stretches of skin intersected by scars of all varying sizes and depths.
Kakashi takes his time in undressing Iruka, committing his naked form to memory with the sharingan. He isn’t sure Obito would approve of Kakashi using his gift in such a manner, but if he were supposed to see the future as it laid itself bare before him, then this was it. If they were to survive, then surely Iruka would be his future.
He’s most definitely his present.
The way Iruka’s hair frames his face softens him to some degree, and Kakashi understands now why he wears it up. Children wouldn’t be able to take the man seriously, and Kakashi feels both enlightened and possessive over this newfound image of him. What others never get to see, what they will never get to see.
With a heady rush, Kakashi maneuvers Iruka until they’re pressed up against each other; until Iruka’s naked body presses against Kakashi’s still clothed form. Their lips find each other once more, and Kakashi takes his time dragging his nails down across Iruka’s shoulder blades. The little sound Iruka makes when one of Kakashi’s knees positions itself in between his thighs is as indescribable as it is intoxicating. Kakashi grabs a handful of Iruka’s ass in either hand, his fingers digging in deep as a low rumble flees his chest as the other lets out a pitiful moan, full of lust and sheer want. With a deep breath, a surge of calm settles over him, and he knows that Iruka’s body is now his designated place of worship, and it is time to partake in communion.
Determined to revere the other man in the only way he sees fit, Kakashi maneuvers Iruka until he’s laid flat on his back. The absence of Iruka’s body pressed up against his own leaves an unsettling chill to wash over him, but the heated gaze the chūnin aims in his direction warms Kakashi back-up all over again. He takes his time in removing his flak jacket, tossing it somewhere behind him without a care in the world; another invasion couldn’t have drawn his attention away from the alluring sight spread out before him. Iruka’s breathing is near ragged, his toned chest rising and falling in rapid succession the longer it takes for Kakashi to disrobe. Once free of all worldly possessions, Kakashi takes to blanketing Iruka’s naked body with his own, and the searing heat between them only appears to clamber the longer they linger together, but the jōnin is in no such hurry.
Kakashi has never stripped down so completely before in his life, neither physically or emotionally; never one to willingly let his guard down in such a manner, but it makes sense once he mulls it over. Before, he only ever used sex as physical release. A balm to soothe the adrenaline rush that came with frequent near death experiences and the emotional toll that losing people had on him no matter how hard he tried to cauterize such feelings in himself. It wasn’t slow or tender or emotional in any capacity; his mind often felt disconnected from his body during moments like those, but this...nothing could compare to this. To the way Iruka’s gaze held so much promise and affection and forgiveness.
Absolution.
Often, he kept it as anonymous as he could make it, but here and now, he couldn’t ignore the fact that his partner is someone he knows, and worse, someone who knows him. A promise lingers in the very next kiss they share, and Kakashi takes his time learning the ins and outs of such a divine vessel. His lips press individual prayers against such tantalizing dark skin, sun-kissed and supple underneath his ministrations. Kakashi takes to committing each and every aspect of Iruka in his mind's eye, cataloging each and every reaction for further dissection, driven to take the other to heights previously unknown, even if just for the night. The gratification he takes in Iruka’s open and vocal pleasure is unrivaled.
Kakashi never knew that sex could ever feel like an answer to a lifelong question. A joint endeavor to be shared between two people.
“Kakashi,” Iruka moans, his fingers threading through Kakashi’s wild mane of silver hair the further south he moves, kissing and biting and licking wherever his lips, teeth and tongue comes into contact with.
Iruka’s hips are sharp, but nowhere near as jagged as Kakashi’s own. His thighs are thick, muscular and strong with a hint of softness to be found, too. The length of his cock strains upward towards his abdomen, thick as well and flushed a dark red at the tip. Kakashi is overwhelmed by the bliss he experiences in being the cause of Iruka’s current state. His cock is not as long lengthwise as Kakashi’s own, but it’s beautiful all the same, and his desire to taste it is profound and nearly all-consuming in its intensity, stripping him of his world-renowned constraint.
Kakashi’s never allowed himself to indulge much in the pleasures of the flesh before, but now he’s hoping to partake in all that the other man has to offer him and more. He uses the heavy drops of pre-come to work Iruka into a fervor with nothing more than the twist of his wrist, watching helplessly as the chūnin’s hips jerk forward, sensitive nearly to a fault. Kakashi chances a pleased smirk his way, a sense of deviousness overtaking him as Iruka fights to maintain some semblance of composure. That just wouldn’t do, he thinks, gliding his tongue along the slit of the sensei’s cock. He refuses to be ignored, and by the way Iruka cries out, he gets his desired wish.
In all of his previous musings and observations on the subject of Iruka’s provoclivities, he never came across any concrete evidence that the chūnin sensei preferred one sex over the other. However, it quickly became apparent how popular Iruka proved to be in regards to women, especially the kunoichi centered in their village. The knowledge struck fear into the deepest recesses of his mind, preoccupied with the line of thought that he would never be able to give Iruka what those women could. A sense of domesticity, a family to call their own, but little by little, Kakashi came to understand Iruka’s leanings a little better. A deep personal connection would be required for anyone hoping to sway the direction of the other man’s heart, a sense of attachment would thus fan the flames of attraction, and gender held little to no sway in Iruka’s decision making.
The better he got at reading Iruka, the more he began to see an inkling of attraction stirring in those depths. The rare meals the two were able to share together quickly became the highlight of their week, or even their month. When Kakasi returned home from long missions abroad, Iruka was always there to both greet and chastise him in equal measures. The more Kakashi teased him, the stronger Iruka’s reactions to him became. Kakashi often tried to keep it light and friendly, but his feelings were anything but friendly, and that often kept him up at night.
The fact that Iruka not only desires him, but also desires his touch does something to Kakashi he can’t begin to explain. In all aspects of his life as a shinobi, he has fought not to fall into enemy hands, but Iruka is not an adversary. His touch is welcome and reassuring to Kakashi, and he hands his body over willingly to him. Iruka’s hands are warm and infused with life, and when he touches him, his own hands don’t feel so bloodstained. Iruka craves his touch, his love, and his affection though they’re broken and incomplete, fractured into pieces and not nearly enough as Iruka’s own, but he takes it.
More than that, Iruka welcomes it. Welcomes him.
Iruka is a wonderful teacher, and with his guidance, Kakashi doesn’t doubt that he can learn how to be whatever it is that Iruka needs him to be. A better, more considerate lover. A vocal and loving partner. Whatever Iruka is looking for, Kakashi wants to be able to fulfill that role. Iruka’s love is clear and unwavering in its focused intensity and sincerity, Kakashi knows, but he won’t allow for the other man to settle for his muted, colorless kind of love. The hole in his heart can’t possibly be filled without the love and compassion from others, and Kakashi can’t help but to yearn for this, even if it’s in the later years of his life. It is a proven fact that a majority of shinobi don’t live long enough to see their thirtieth birthday, especially those of his caliber born into rampant warfare.
Kakashi has spent the majority of his life preparing for death, but it’s eluded him thus far. If not for Nagato, he would have been dead by now, but he doesn’t want to focus on that. Why he’s been given this chance, he doesn’t quite know, but he wants to spend whatever time he has left with the one person who sees him for who he is, and still cares for him anyway.
Admittedly, he doesn’t have much experience beyond handjobs and the occasional fuck, but he’s a fast learner, and he knows enough in theory. In his most indulgent fantasies, he’s able to give Iruka his absolute all, and he refuses to allow fear or uncertainty stop him now. The further Kakashi’s able to take the other man’s cock into his mouth, and the harder he’s able to pin his hips in place, the louder Iruka gets. He enjoys the way Iruka’s half-lidded gaze never strays from his own, those wonderful fingers a vice-like grip on his scalp. When he traces his tongue along a vein on the underside of his cock, Iruka’s head lolls back, both of his hands firmly rooted in Kakashi’s hair as though he’s hanging on for dear life.
Kakashi takes pleasure in pleasuring him, and it shows in the way his cock hardens and aches whenever Iruka graces him with a moan, sigh or bastardized version of his name. His voice is low, raspy and strung-up with the pleasure that Kakashi’s able to inflict upon him, and it’s the only encouragement he needs in order to keep going. Suddenly, Iruka is sitting up, dislodging Kakashi from his place. His heart drops, fearful that Iruka has decided that this isn’t what he wants, but those thoughts are quickly dispelled when the other man reaches into the nightstand next to his bed. He shoves what Kakashi can only presume is a bottle of oil into his hands before falling back into place among his pillow.
The fact Iruka can’t seem to make direct eye contact with Kakashi only makes it all the better. Kakashi takes the opportunity to kiss Iruka on the lips one last time before getting back down to work, trailing kiss after kiss down along his neck and chest, teasing a pert nipple with both teeth and tongue. He takes note of the whine Iruka chokes out as a result, making a mental note to explore it further later. He removes the cap from the tiny glass bottle, coating his fingers generously as Iruka spreads his legs further apart. He places a kiss to the inside of Iruka’s knee, enjoying the way his already taut stomach tenses further in anticipation of Kakashi’s next move.
Kakashi welcomes the chūnin’s cock back in between swollen lips, his tongue swirling along the flushed head as he presses and massages a single finger against Iruka’s puckered hole. His entrance is mostly unyielding at first, but it gradually loosens under Kakashi’s ministrations. The pleasure from having the older man’s seemingly gifted mouth around his cock allows Iruka’s body to relax, little by little. It’s obvious that it’s been a while since the sensei’s last done this, but it’s also obvious that Iruka wants this badly enough that he’s willing to hurry Kakashi along. He hums around his mouthful, enjoying the way Iruka’s hips jerk as a result, all the while easing his middle finger up to the second knuckle.
Iruka’s body eventually welcomes two more, keening with every curl of Kakashi’s nimble fingers. When he’s able to brush along Iruka’s prostate, the sensei’s eyes seal shut, his mouth falling open on a desperate, ragged moan that leaves Kakashi feeling intoxicated. The flush that seeps and spreads across Iruka’s delicate face fansout down along his chest, highlighting each and every scar it dares to come into contact with. He’s so focused on memorizing each and every detail that he misses the way Iruka begins to thrust back against his hand, tortured whines and whimpers getting louder the more eager he becomes. Finally, Kakashi comes back to his senses, torturing Iruka with a couple more direct hits to his prostate before removing his fingers all together.
“Kakashi, I can’t,” he groans, close to the edge as he grips the cotton sheets beneath him. Kakashi desires to see the other man swathe in the finest of silk, to see that beautiful dark skin shimmer against emeralds, golds and creams. Determined to make it so. “Please.”
“Tell me what you want, sensei, and I’ll give it to you,” Kakashi murmurs, studying his handiwork as he slicks up his cock in preparation. There are so many things he wants for them, but he settles for what they can have at the moment. If he survives this war, and some strange part of him now prays that he does, Iruka will be his to spoil.
“You know what I want!” Iruka snaps, some of that familiar ferocity seeping back into that heated gaze of his. Iruka casts a forearm over his face, shielding his eyes from Kakashi’s insatiable craving of him. Iruka’s chagrin only serves to make Kakashi love him all the more. A sentiment he didn’t think possible until now. “Kakashi, please, I want you inside me.”
Kakashi licks his lips as they suddenly feel both parched and barren. The sensei’s words, though simple in nature, resonate throughout his entire being as he hoists Iruka’s legs up over his narrow hips. Iruka bites down on his bottom lip as Kakashi positions the head of his cock against his slackened hole. He takes his time pressing in, feeling the way Iruka’s body opens up slowly but steadily around him. The heat and pressure engulfing his cock is violent in its sheer intensity, and it takes everything Kakashi has not to charge forward in his sudden urgency to possess the other man.
Iruka’s back arches off the bed, his head tossed back against one of his many pillows. His kisses are hot and open and utterly breathless, each of them panting and trembling together as one. A sheen layer of sweat glistens across both of their skin, making their hands slip and slide in their haste to touch and explore all that’s exposed before them. Kakashi waits and waits, gauging Iruka’s reception of him. When it’s clear that he’s acclimated to Kakashi being inside him, the jōnin slowly begins to rock his hips forward, enjoying the slow, slick glide of his cock claiming Iruka with every harsh roll of his hips.
“Fuck, Iruka,” he gasps, his voice low and gruff as he tries to keep his composure with ever waning self-discipline. “You’re tight.”
The chūnin’s blunt nails delve raised welts down along Kakashi’s spine, causing him to shudder violently, his hips stilling all the way inside of Iruka. They kiss and kiss and kiss, each and every part of them yearning to be close, closer than physically possible. Iruka’s fingers thread through tufts of silver hair, manipulating Kakashi’s pliant mouth against his own.
“Move,” he all but demands, those rich, dark eyes of his clouded with nothing but absolute lust.
“Whatever you want, sensei,” Kakashi croons, rearing his hips back as Iruka gasps and moans at the sensation of it all. “Whatever you want.”
Kakashi means all that he says. Iruka could command him to pluck the crescent moon from out the night sky, and he would do so without a moment's hesitation, presenting it like one would a bouquet of flowers. Iruka could petition him for anything, and Kakashi would pursue it relentlessly to its bitter end. Thankfully, Iruka’s plea is simply that of a carnal sort of pleasure, the partaking of years worth of desiring and aching and longing for each other from afar. Kakashi gathers impatient, sculpted hips into eager hands, raising Iruka’s lower half up as he strategically angles their bodies together.
With stilted breath, Kakashi lets go, thrusting in and out of Iruka’s pliant body with as much force as he can muster. The cries torn from Iruka’s chest are loud and echoing, consuming them both from the inside out. Kakashi’s ony ever dreamt of holding someone this way, balancing the animalistic components of sex with the tenderness of true love and affection. He layers kisses and bites along the delicate stretches of Iruka's neck and throat, soothing the sting of them over with the tip of his tongue. The way Iruka clenches down around him with every other thrust threatens to drive Kakashi to the brink of insanity, his thighs a firm pressure wrapped around his waist.
Kakashi tweaks one of Iruka’s hardened nubs between his fingers, enthralled by the way Iruka’s chest heaves at the motion. He takes the other in between his lips, teasing it with both teeth and tongue. Kakashi proceeds to wreak havoc upon the other man’s body, finding and exploiting each and every new pleasure point he comes across.
“Kakashi!” Iruka chokes out, his hard cock trapped in between them, pressing and rubbing desperately against Kakashi’s abdomen.
Iruka’s mindless pleasure entrances Kakashi to no end. “Tell me what you want, Iruka,” he murmurs, heated lips pressing against the shell of the brunette’s ear. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”
The tears that threaten to spill over makes Kakashi feel insatiable and greedy. Those damp, dark lashes dotted across his waterline like diamonds. The open torment of having to vocalize his own wants and needs leaves Kakashi feeling all-powerful.
“Touch me,” he whispers, nearly faltering over his words as his eyes refuse to meet Kakashi’s own.
“Touch you where, sensei?” he asks, enjoying the way Iruka’s body trembles as he inches out slowly only to slide back in equally as slow. “Come on, use your words.”
Instead of elaborating, Iruka stubbornly takes Kakashi’s hand into his own, guiding it down to his poor, neglected cock. Kakashi decides to take mercy upon him, picking up his pace as he strokes Iruka in time with his thrusts. Iruka groans, his eyes slipping loosely shut as his hips rock forward then back, thrusting up into Kakashi’s closed fist. His thighs flex around Kakashi’s hips as his ass clenches down around the jōnin's cock, trembling harder than before. He’s close, Kakashi can tell.
He just needs a little more...
A twist of the wrist, and Kakashi succeeds in pushing Iruka over the edge. He takes extra care in committing Iruka’s bliss to memory, his sharingan open and draining chakra as a result. The way his mouth falls open around Kakashi’s name captivates him—mind, body and soul. Dark, sweat-soaked strands cling to his flushed face as his chest heaves and his body shudders as he comes again and again in between them. Watching Iruka falling apart around him arrests and seizes control of all of Kakashi’s senses, and he buries himself one last time to the hilt, coming with a breathless utterance of Iruka’s name and forbidden promises of forever.
After a few moments catching his breath, Kakashi mournfully parts from the man he’s grown to love, but only so that he can fetch a washcloth to clean them up with. He wipes Iruka down with tender touches and soothing words, layering kiss after kiss along his neck and collarbones, teasing each and every mark he’s dared to leave behind. Iruka permits his exploratory touches, committing some of his own as his fingers trace along a sharp, angular jawline. He still appears somewhat mesmerized by Kakashi’s open face, but mostly that of bow-shaped lips. Lips Iruka’s recently admitted to having fantasized about.
Their time is short, and thus, precious. Soon, Kakashi will be heading to the front lines while Iruka is tasked with trying to keep Naruto contained to a living, breathing island off the coast of Kumogakure. Kakashi can tell by the gleam in his eyes that Iruka has little to no hope in completing his mission, but he’s vowed to at least try. For Naruto’s sake, Iruka would sacrifice it all. He already has once before.
“Kakashi...”
“Yes, sensei?”
“Would it be selfish to command someone to stay alive?”
Kakashi hesitates, but only for a moment, placing a gentle kiss to the inside of Iruka’s wrist, right above his pulse point. “War comes with no promises, Iruka, but I can at least promise to try if you do the same,” he says finally, trying to be as open and honest without causing the comfortable atmosphere between them to suddenly turn morose.
If only he could suspend this moment in time forever, he would, but that would be little more than a dream. A honeyed one full of love and promise, but a dream nonetheless, and if they’re fighting for anything here, it’s reality. The chance to make the world reflect the ways of this emerging new era, and to allow the next generation to thrive in some semblance of peace.
“I’ll try,” Iruka says, his words soft, so soft, but his eyes and the set of his mouth are as stern and stubborn as the man himself.
Kakashi can’t help but to smile; a true, genuine smile as he seals such promise with a kiss. Iruka’s body feels heavenly against his own, his chest a comforting presence pressed against his back. With their legs tangled together, they’re entwined as one.
“I believe in you,” he adds, pressing a kiss to the nape of Kakashi’s neck, “and I believe in Naruto.”
Kakashi’s eyes slip shut, his fingers tightening around Iruka’s own. “I know you do, sensei,” he grits out, his heart thumping painfully loud in the silence of Iruka’s room, and he bites his bottom lip so hard that it nearly splits open and bleeds. “That’s why I love you.”
Their long awaited dance has finally come to its end, and yet, Kakashi can’t stifle his desire for it to commence once again. If he survives, he’ll make it worth their while, he knows, and by the way Iruka hides his face into the crook of Kakashi’s neck as his arms tighten around his waist, he knows it, too. The future will be theirs if only they can reach out and touch it, taking it for themselves.