As evil diabolical plans went, this one was a pretty mundane affair. One that Genma assured him would pull off easily. Kakashi met the confident grin with his most measuring, unnerving stare, willing the easygoing jounin to be serious and focused.
“So,” Kakashi looked down at the hastily drawn diagram in front of him. “Target approaches, Target is made unconscious, Target captured?” he asked, pointing to each scenario.
“I didn’t know your kinky books covered mission sex,” Genma commented instead of answering. “Or do you actually pick up like this?”
Kakashi may have kicked Pakkun discreetly, so that a faint growl provided the background music to their discussion.
At least that annoying toothpick stopping bobbing up and down suggestively now.
“Fine, fine.” Genma gave up. Kakashi was no fun when he wasn’t deadpanning back. “He’s all yours. Promise I’ll do my part.”
“You gotta stop reading those books man. Or I’m never going out on mission with you. Ever.”
Genma signalled to the bartender for another shot, hesitated, then leaned over the counter and grabbed the entire tequila bottle from the surprised man’s hand. “Thanks. Hey Iruka! Jackpot!” he cried happily, pouring his drinking partner a generous shot. So far, the quiet, unassuming rookie was holding his alcohol well, but the night was far from over. Genma watched the crazy club lights wash over Iruka’s flushed face, smirking inwardly.
Kakashi wouldn’t know what hit him. Who, rather. Genma hadn’t had this much fun since Raidou’s housewarming party. Asuma had never found his favourite pair of pants, and still believed that Gai was the culprit. Similar hilarities might happen tonight, if only this wasn’t for the job.
Iruka was slurring his words, but still gave him a lucid look. “Why isn’t Gai-san here?”
“Are you kidding? Too much cool would kill the poor man,” Genma laughed, took a shot, and swayed against the bench. Iruka laughed.
“You’re drunk!” he announced happily.
“You’re sexy!” Genma shouted back above the din.
That was the signal; no doubt Kakashi was hearing all this, somehow above the bone-jarring music. The point was to get Iruka drunk enough so that the conversation would be reversed. Genma had tried several times already, to no avail. Maybe Iruka was one of those people who had freaky metabolism, sitting there calmly sipping sake after sake. At any rate, the bastard was right; Genma was getting seriously drunk, and if Iruka didn’t cave in soon, there was going to be some serious repercussion. Specifically, Kakashi and his dogs.
Finally, after three bottles and halfway into the bottle raspberry vodka (at Iruka’s insistence that they try it out and see if it’s blood), Genma blearily noticed that Iruka is splayed out on the sticky counter, regarding him with wide, owlish eyes. He had pretty eyes. Pretty...
“Hey Iruka,” Genma slurred. “You’re drunk.”
Iruka’s mouth turned up in a slow, fuzzy smile. “You’re sexy.” He breathed.
After that, Genma couldn’t really remember the rest of the night. He had vague recollections of Iruka’s face coming closer, a silver blur, extreme facial pain. In the morning, he found himself sprawled out on the dance floor, alone, although he couldn’t remember how on earth he made it halfway across the room.
At least Kakashi got his wish to see Iruka completely off his face (‘unguarded’ was the word he used- ha), and Genma was the proud owner of the new Icha Icha Collector’s Edition No.5.
“Mission accomplished,” he muttered, and closed his eyes. His jaw REALLY hurt.