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The One Time Naruto's Version Was Less Dramatic

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Iruka frowned, moving to the door. “Hello, I- Kakashi!”

Kakashi leaned in a little. “I’m sorry I missed dinner.” he said, with the softly apologetic, puppyish look Iruka hoped like hell he never figured out might sway Iruka to forgive him even careless lateness.

Which had not been the case this evening, regardless.

“You were called in, I understand.” Iruka said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. “I’m glad you’re all right. No mission?”

Kakashi made a non-committal sound and tipped his head. “Everything is handled now, at least.” he confirmed without detail. Iruka couldn’t help but think of the ever so slightly faded crimson of the curving tattoo on Kakashi’s arm. He wasn’t bothered by the lack of detail and he wouldn’t ask for more. “I didn’t want you to,” Kakashi paused, and from so close Iruka could see the playful smile curving his lips through the mask, “worry.”

Iruka raised his brows, then caught Kakashi by the collar of his flak vest and pulled him inside. He felt a flutter of warmth at the ease with which Kakashi allowed himself to be moved by Iruka, lax and unguarded. “Did you have dinner while you were busy?” he asked, letting his amusement show at the surprise flitting through Kakashi’s gaze.

“Ah- Yes.” Kakashi said, and tilted his head.

Iruka pushed the door closed, and Kakashi’s brow rose out of sight behind his hitai-ate. “Did you really?” he asked, prodding Kakashi’s skinny side just under the edge of his flak vest.

Kakashi laughed softly. “I did. My adorable kohai fetched dinner for us.”

“Good.” Iruka said, and stepped back, tugging at Kakashi again and gratified when he followed easily, eye fixed on Iruka’s face. “So what brings you back here,” he paused, smiling slightly, “to me,” he raised his brows, “so late?”

“Maa. . .” Kakashi paused, looking away. Iruka would, perhaps, have to telegraph his teasing a little better, he thought suddenly. “I still wanted to see you,” Kakashi admitted, glancing back at Iruka, his head tipped down and his fringe concealing most of the visible sliver of his face, “I suppose it is very late . . . for Academy sensei, mm?”

Iruka snorted, closing the distance between them again. He could see the curve of Kakashi’s smirk beneath his mask, unsurprisingly, and shook his head slightly.

“For busy active-duty nin, too.” Iruka suggested, reaching up and brushing a thumb over Kakashi’s cheek and past his visible eye. “You look tired.”

Kakashi grumbled wordlessly, but dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Iruka licked his lips, heart fluttering, and smoothed a hand up under the edge of Kakashi’s flak vest once more, over his lean waist; a caress this time rather than a prod. “Would you like to stay here with me tonight, then?” he asked softly, then hesitated. Jounin were. . . “Would you be able to rest, with me?”

Kakashi startled, tilting his head away, but only for a moment before he bent it close again, nose brushing Iruka’s. “Stay here . . . and sleep with you?” he asked, and Iruka cleared his throat, nodding. “I would like that.” he said, soft and sincere, almost nuzzling Iruka, hands sliding around his waist.

He relaxed, smiling, and reached up with his free hand to toy with Kakashi’s wild hair. “I would, too.” he admitted, more comfortable with Kakashi’s pleased acceptance of his invitation on display. “Do you want anything else, or should we. . .”

“Go to bed?” Kakashi filled in, eye bright, and Iruka laughed, leading the way. He hummed, glancing over Kakashi’s uniform - not that he had ever seen Kakashi in anything else - and then moved to the bureau with a vague idea of getting sleepwear for both of them.

“I hope you don’t mind if we get a little more,” Iruka turned away, slanting a look over his shoulder at Kakashi, finding his boyfriend lounging on his bed, flak vest and gloves already removed, “. . .comfortable?”

Kakashi was startled into a laugh, delight shining in his mist-grey eye. “You’ve seen my face, sensei,” he smirked as he pulled down the offending piece of fabric that had been hiding it, showing off his thin, slightly crooked, entirely too tempting mouth, “what else do you think I might have to hide?”

His eye slid down Iruka’s body appreciatively, though he had yet to take off anything more than the flak vest he’d shed immediately upon returning to his apartment after school. It was . . . gratifying, being so blatantly admired by a man who was so rarely blatant about anything.

Iruka smiled as he straightened again, pulling his shirt up and off over his head. The collar caught against his ponytail, tugging at it, and he realised belatedly he should have taken his hair down first. He’d been distracted.

He hummed, reaching up to pull the loosened ponytail down entirely as he turned slowly, only to be caught by a warm hand on his shoulder. He grinned. “Why, Kakashi-” he broke off, startled when Kakashi turned him to face away again. “Kakashi?”

Fuck, Iruka. . .” Kakashi said, low and rough, the callused fingertips of his free hand brushing over. . .

Oh. Iruka frowned. He hadn’t expected Kakashi would be particularly unsettled by the scar - he knew Kakashi must have plenty of his own, though he’d seen little beyond the one on his face, thus far. Most of Kakashi was hidden. “Kakashi?”

“Mizuki.” Kakashi said, and Iruka nodded. “Naruto said you took a fuuma shuriken in the back, but I thought. . . Fuck.” he said again, palm splaying over the scar, where the muscles often knotted achily. “How long were you down healing from this?”

Iruka drew a deep breath. “Not long. I had to get back to the Academy.” He rolled his shoulder and twisted to look at Kakashi over it. Iruka froze. Kakashi looked wrecked, and a quiver ran through him, his hands shaking where they rested on Iruka’s back. “. . .Kakashi?”

Iruka tensed for a moment as Kakashi moved closer, all but blanketing him. “You . . . took a fuuma shuriken in the back to protect your student and you just. . .”

“They needed me back.” Iruka said, frowning slightly, then tilted his head with a sigh, leaning into Kakashi as he hugged Iruka tight around the waist. “And I wasn’t going to just let him put a fuuma shuriken in my student! My twelve year old, pre-genin student.”

Kakashi whined softly and nuzzled behind his ear. “Kakashi?” he asked carefully.

“He got you with the fuuma shuriken, and that’s when Naruto pulled off tajuu kage bunshin?” Kakashi asked, and Iruka frowned, shaking his head.

“No, no, that was later. That little- I told him to run.” Iruka said softly, fond exasperation rising, along with the memory of his worry - his fear - that night.

“He wouldn’t leave you any more than you would have left him.” Kakashi said, squeezing him tighter, and Iruka smiled a little, because it was true. “What was later?”

“That remarkable trick Naruto pulled out of his sleeve. The fuuma shuriken was first,” Iruka corrected, trailing his fingers over Kakashi’s arm as a shudder went through him, “it was the second time he got me down that Naruto. . .” He sighed, trailing off. He was so proud of Naruto, but he wished Naruto hadn’t had to save him; he shouldn’t have had to, Iruka should have been protecting him.

Kakashi’s embrace eased up a little again, though he stayed close; he was reassuringly warm and solid against Iruka, and he realised belatedly that Kakashi had begun to strip as well - that they were skin to skin for the first time. He relaxed a little more, enjoying the contact; finding himself settling more. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to appreciate the sight of Kakashi without his shirt on yet, he thought, prompting a more pleasant shiver.

“Naruto said Mizuki took you down out of the branches; that you led him on a chase . . . that you tried to get him away from Naruto, going after you instead.” Kakashi said, head dipping beside Iruka’s ear.

“Yes.” Iruka sighed. “I wish I could have done better-”

“You did all that with a fuuma shuriken in your back?” Kakashi demanded, finally backing off a little, and Iruka twitched as he felt Kakashi’s knuckles run up his spine to brush over his scar.

“No.” Iruka shook his head. “I had it out by then.”

Out?” Kakashi repeated. “How did you get it out? How did you not bleed out? How were you moving?”

“I took it out,” Iruka said, rolling one shoulder and tipping his head away, “it wasn’t that hard to reach,” though it had hurt, that went without saying - and Iruka had hardly been feeling the pain at the time, anyway, it had faded in importance with everything else going on, “and it happened fast enough, I suppose. And I had to.”

“You what?” Kakashi’s voice was thin.

“I pulled it out so I could throw it at Mizuki.” Iruka clarified, and then huffed with remembered fury. “Shame he dodged, the utter bastard.” He wheezed a little as Kakashi’s arms tightened around him. “Kakashi!”

“You- How.” Kakashi said, shuddering, and Iruka frowned a little, rubbing a hand over Kakashi’s forearm. He eased his grip a little, thankfully. Iruka was aware his boyfriend was strong, but that had been startling and rather uncomfortable.

“Well, it was a bit of a slow throw,” Iruka admitted, sighing, “not my best. He got out of the way in time.”

“That’s not-” Kakashi said weakly, and Iruka hummed, glancing back at Kakashi curiously. “That was not what I was asking.”

“What, then?” Iruka asked, brows drawing together.

“How the fuck did you throw a fuuma shuriken you had just pulled out of your own back?” Kakashi asked, voice unsteady.

Iruka shrugged, ducking his head. “I had to; I shouldn’t have dropped that kunai he got me with either, but I just wanted it out of my leg so I could move; I had to get to Naruto to cover him and I wasn’t thinking about returning weaponry right then.”

“Wait, I- What happened that night?” Kakashi asked, and Iruka nudged at his clinging arms gently. He whined, but Iruka clasped his wrists, keeping him close, just moving enough to turn and face his boyfriend. “I thought I knew- Naruto certainly talked about you, though evidently he didn’t give you nearly enough credit. . .”

“Well,” Iruka said, smiling slightly, “he hasn’t really the experience to judge a battle, has he? And he had even less then. I didn’t want to worry him too much, either, once it was over.”

“How did you survive?” Kakashi asked, his slightly lopsided mouth pinched and his eye searching Iruka’s face, the stormy grey a little cloudier than usual. His distress was clear, though not so strongly as it was in his voice.

Iruka stroked his cheek, drawing him close and kissing him lightly. “I’m all right, ne?”

Kakashi growled softly, low in his throat, arms tightening around Iruka again - not quite so powerfully this time; Iruka didn’t protest - and Iruka kissed the corner of his mouth. “Come on, it’s not the best bedtime story, but let’s get comfortable and I’ll tell you what happened, if you want to hear it.”

Kakashi nodded sharply, once, pulling him towards the bed, and Iruka thought about protesting that he’d meant ‘in something other than the remaining halves of our uniforms’, but kept silent and allowed himself to be drawn across the room. Kakashi pushed him gently over as he climbed onto the bed and Iruka sighed, rolling onto his stomach and letting his boyfriend inspect his scarred back more closely as he told the story, arms crossed and fingers tightening around his own upper arms.

Mizuki had been his friend, one of his very best friends, and he had. . .

Iruka startled as Kakashi pulled at him, rolling him onto his back. “You’re . . . incredible.” Kakashi said, the fretful lines still marring his expression, but softer now, an almost . . . awed look in his face. Iruka squirmed uncomfortably under his regard.

“I’m a Konoha ninja. And I never saw. . .” Iruka scowled. “He was my fucking best friend, and I never saw it coming. Bastard.” he spat again.

Kakashi pressed close, and all that warm, lean muscle suddenly snug against Iruka succeeded in distracting him from his temper. “Apparently no one did; but you stopped him. Saved your student and yourself, and took him down together, and I still can’t fathom how you survived, let alone. . .” He shook his head, and his eye narrowed. “. . .you were the one who announced the genin teams. How long were you in the hospital?”

“Not- Wait.” Iruka squinted at him. “Naruto told me how late you were, you weren’t even there when I gave those announcements, how did you know that?”

“I was there; I just . . . let them wait.” Kakashi said, with a mischievous smirk, and Iruka snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Anyway I . . . got patched up at the hospital and then I took Naruto for ramen. I had to be back at the Academy to process paperwork for the genin teams in the morning.” Iruka sighed. “Promoting Naruto separately and late, even with the Hokage’s approval, made a mess of the paperwork, and I had to start over on several teams to adjust things.”

“You took Naruto for- You were out of the hospital that night?” Kakashi said, his voice startlingly high-pitched, and Iruka sat up abruptly, shocked. “What the fuck are you made of, titanium?” he asked, and Iruka burst into laughter. Kakashi looked so-

“Just flesh and blood.” Iruka said, and reached for his boyfriend’s hand. “Here, feel?” he teased, drawing Kakashi’s callused hand over his skin, sinking down on the bed again.

Kakashi shivered, shaking his head, but his fingers were wandering a little, tracing the curve of Iruka’s ribs and smoothing over his chest. “So you are.” he said softly, and Iruka pulled him down. “I cannot imagine. . . You are incredible, though.”

“Thank you. I suppose.” Iruka said, shrugging and releasing Kakashi’s wrist to stroke his side instead, appreciating the opportunity to do so without his uniform in the way. Not that Kakashi had ever really shied from his touch, which had been a - very pleasant - surprise. “I told you it wasn’t the best bedtime story.” he added, sighing, as he met Kakashi’s eye again.

“You’re all tense.” Kakashi agreed, hand brushing lightly over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Iruka shrugged, then pursed his lips. “Think you can help with that?” he asked, trying for the lighter feelings, the gentle teasing they had shared earlier.

Kakashi paused for a moment, a sharply thoughtful look in his eye, and then he grinned, wide enough that one wickedly sharp canine showed where his upper lip was notched by the scar. “I will do my very best.” he promised, resettling himself against Iruka and drawing him in close, rubbing firmly at his back up to his shoulder and startling a groan from Iruka. He suddenly wanted very much to test how Kakashi’s hands would feel on him after exam week when he was all but one solid ache from hips to collarbones. . .

Then the thought of past and future soreness and even the bitter thoughts of Mizuki faded like so much smoke under thickening rain as Kakashi kissed him, soft and thorough, winding their bodies together and stroking Iruka’s back, even cupping the nape of his neck in a shatteringly vulnerable grip that he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

Iruka vaguely resigned himself to sleeping in his uniform pants, and couldn’t quite find it in himself to care as he sank into his boyfriend’s almost worshipful kisses, petting his lean, powerful body appreciatively. He made a mental note to make sure he got a chance for a good look at Kakashi before he got the rest of his uniform back on . . . later . . . maybe in the morning.

Iruka interrupted their lazy kisses with a sharp nip at Kakashi’s lip and grinned, a shiver running through him, as it made his boyfriend growl, chest thrumming with it where they were pressed together. He met Kakashi’s eye and sucked Kakashi’s lip into his mouth, stroking his tongue over the place he had bitten.

Kakashi’s growl eased into a muffled laugh, and when Iruka released his lip he pulled away enough to nuzzle Iruka affectionately. It made him laugh, though it was broken by a half-stifled yawn.

Very late, for Academy sensei.” Kakashi said playfully, voice low. Iruka pinched him, but didn’t deny it, shifting to get a little more comfortable and stealing a last lingering kiss. “Thank you for letting me stay.” he said as Iruka closed his eyes, caressing him soothingly.

“Thank you for staying.” Iruka returned sleepily, squeezing just above his hip with one hand.