"I don't care if you're not ready. It's my damned turn!" Hopping from foot to foot, Iruka was starting to feel like Naruto after one of his unfortunate catering experiments.
When considering the potential problems arising from sharing a house with Kakashi, being locked out of his own bathroom for extended periods of time hadn't even made the list. But apparently copy-nins took a while to get ready. Iruka glanced desperately at the clock. Over an hour, in this particular case, which was pushing the envelope even for Kakashi. Any second now Iruka was going to call the situation hopeless and beg next door for the use of their bathroom because they were supposed to be at the graduation ceremony in... Shit! Twenty minutes! And, oh god, Iruka hadn't even showered yet!
Iruka's temper loosed with an almost audible snap. His fists clenched, his lungs filled and he bellowed at the sort of volume that sent ants scurrying for cover, "I swear, Hatake, if you don't get your ass out of there right now, I'm dragging you out by the balls!"
About ten seconds later, the door cracked open, then pushed wide as Kakashi wandered out, dressed in his usual jounin uniform and looking no different to the way he normally did.
Iruka stared at him, mouth open in utter disbelief. He had no words. There were no words. "What the fuck have you been doing in there!" Okay, so apparently there were words, if not very polite ones.
Kakashi turned to him, eye-smiling happily and waving the latest edition in the Icha Icha series. "Maa, Iruka, did I not say Jiraiya was brilliant. It all makes sense now."
"Brilliant...? Sense...? Huh?" There went the words again.
"It's Juro and Aimi, you see. So much time in front of a mirror, it had to mean something and, well, there it was. The picture." Another happy smile and wave of the book.
Iruka growled, actually growled, like a dog, and he was so mad that he didn't even feel embarrassed about it. He lunged for the book, fully intending to shove it where the sun doesn't shine, and missed. It reappeared in Kakashi's other hand. "Kakashi!"
"I don't care if Jiraiya-sama himself came back to tell you to read the thing, you don't do it in the bathroom when we've got important places to be!"
Kakashi's smile faltered. "But Iruka..." he protested again.
Iruka was not to be dissuaded. He might have grown fond of the Icha Icha series over the years but this was too much. "Give me one, just one, reason why I shouldn't take those damned books and jutsu them into papier-mache."
"Genius," Kakashi announced. He hussled a furiously speechless Iruka into the bathroom, stood him in front of the mirror, flipped open the book and held it up next to Iruka's face. "Look at her kimono."
Iruka looked. It was a stylized picture of the heroine, Aimi, dressed in traditional garb; a froth of silk and flora which...oh. He looked again, read what was so cleverly hidden amongst the flowers and folds, and a blush the colour of which he didn't think he'd ever achieved before spread over his face. "Oh my," he muttered and kept reading. He couldn't stop. He wasn't sure anyone could have. It was absolutely and utterly filthy, and completely riveting.
Needless to say, the graduates at that year's ceremony had to make do without their precious Iruka-sensei.