As the last child ran out the door, Iruka sighed and turned to the lesson plan still on the board. Retrieving one of the erasers from his drawer, he began to wipe the board clean for the next day. Thinking back on the antics of some of the younger students, he began to wonder how he was going to survive the year. Just this morning, he barely missed an intricate trap involving the door, thirteen rubber bands, two buckets, one filled with chop suey and the other with feathers, and a mop. How it worked, he had absolutely no idea, but he narrowly avoided being drenched, sticky, and fluffy before the day really even began.
Smiling softly, his thoughts wandered. He thought about Naruto, who was out and about on his training journey with Jiraiya. He wondered whether the toad sage was indulging Naruto’s ramen addiction or not. He also realized that he missed the blond boy more than he thought he would.
Those thoughts led to Sasuke, and his leaving the village scant months ago.
With another heartfelt sigh, Iruka thought about the last Uchiha, and his quest for revenge. He wished that he had paid more attention to Sasuke, tried to get closer to him and dissuade him from his chosen path.
Without warning, a slight sound alerted the teacher to someone at the window. Without a second though he spun around and whipped the chalk-filled eraser at the intruder and plunged his other hand into his weapons pouch, pulling out two kunai and readying them. Before he could fire, however, a soft chuckle came from the windowsill. Heaving a sigh of relief and un-tensing his muscles, Iruka adopted a peeved expression.
“Kakashi,” he started, “why don’t you use the door like a normal person would?” Putting the kunai away, he walked over to the jounin, smothering an amused grin.
Kakashi, for his part, had not been expecting the eraser. He was planning on coming in to surprise the chuunin because he was back early. He knew that he could sneak up on Iruka pretty easily, and enjoyed flustering the other man. Kakashi knew that he should have been expecting some form of retaliation (Iruka wasn’t a chuunin for nothing), but the eraser… now that was unexpected. He caught it of course; what kind of jounin would he be if he’d let it hit him? The dust was dislodged from the impact, however, and had turned into a puffy cloud that settled around his head. The contrast of the white chalk dust and his navy blue uniform, combined with his shock of white hair and green shinobi vest, made quite a comical picture.
When he reached the jounin, Iruka valiantly attempted a straight face. The look in Kakashi’s eye, however, was the limit. He looked… miffed. It was so different from his usual character that Iruka lost it. Laughing at his lover, Iruka gently reached up to help Kakashi wipe the chalk dust away. This, of course, only served to smear it along the fabric, and only made him look funnier.
Kakashi regarded the red-faced chuunin with a mixture of humor and affection. Only Iruka, he knew, would throw an eraser at an enemy. He supposed that it was what was on hand, but still.
“Are you done yet?” He asked wryly as Iruka tried to catch his breath. “Believe it or not, I didn’t come in here to get covered in… white chalk dust.”
Still chuckling, Iruka regained some of his composure. “Oh, is that so?” He asked cheekily. “Then why did you come here, O Mighty Jounin?” The effect was somewhat spoiled by the giggle fit that closely followed.
“Well, I was thinking of asking a certain chuunin teacher if he wants to go grab some lunch with me.” Kakashi replied. He reached out and snagged Iruka by the waist, pulling him snug up against his body. “Is that all right with you?”
Iruka pretended to think about it for a minute, bringing one of his hands up to his chin and staring up at the ceiling. “Well, that would depend on whether or not I know this teacher. You see, I would probably have to go and warn them that a – oomph!” Kakashi brought his other arm around Iruka and tickled his sides, effectively cutting him off.
“I mean you, baka.” He chided, sneaking a quick, cloth-covered kiss against Iruka’s temple. Sighing into the embrace, Iruka closed his eyes in contentment.
“On one condition.” His eyes sparkled mischievously.
“Hmm? And what might that be?” Kakashi asked, with one eyebrow raised.
Smiling broadly, Iruka leaned in so close that they were nose to nose. Kakashi sucked in a surprised gasp; Iruka was rarely the forward one in the relationship, usually preferring to have Kakashi initiate most encounters. When Iruka was a mere breathe away and every part of his body intimately pressed against the jounin, he whispered, “You have to take a shower first. I’m not going to lunch with a ghost.”
Kakashi grabbed, but Iruka was a millisecond faster. Kakashi was left grasping at the remnants of a teleportation jutsu before vanishing himself.
All that was left was the echo of laughter.