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“Still dislike doors.” Kakashi set down his book on the tangled sheets of his hospital bed, stale and warm.
“Still reading porn.” Tenzo sat on the edge of the open window, his mask slid to the side, pushing his short brown hair to a messy peak. There was no need to wear it. But there was a want. The last time he was with Kakashi he’d worn it. And the last time he was going to wear it he was with Kakashi. He’d always been there for firsts, for lasts, for mediocrity that felt monumental. But lately, Tenzo had barely been there for anything.
“You look like shit.” Tenzo took a handful of grapes from Kakashi’s bedside as he spoke, watching the slow, painful movements of his friend as he tried to stand. “Sit down.”
“I haven’t moved in two days. I’m standing.”
“I’m not picking you up off the floor.” He ate the grapes as he watched Kakashi slowly stretch and move, easing limb by limb, his muscles rippling beneath the soft black outfit he’d carried from his time in the ANBU. If there was one thing Tenzo learned about Kakashi, it was that he liked familiarity.
The same time, everyday. The same path, step by step. The same book, in hand. The same guilt, heavy on his shoulders.
“You always say that.” Kakashi took the last grape from Tenzo’s hand and ate it, wincing at the sudden motion.
“Worth it?” asked Tenzo as he watched Kakashi stumble against the wall beside where Tenzo sat, an arm looping around Kakashi’s as he steadied him.
Kakashi caught Tenzo’s arm and his breath as he leant against the wall, enjoying the cold stone to his burning muscles that cried out at his ill advised movement. When was the last time he’d held Tenzo’s arm like this?
Time had eluded him since his team disbanded.He couldn’t even keep together his own team. It wasn’t much of a surprise since he couldn’t protect and hold onto his friends. Love disintegrated around him, because of him, in consequence, or it just, did. But the one defining thing, was him. They had come back together and to him, Naruto and Sakura. He had faith in them and in finding Sasuke. He just wished he had that faith in himself.
Fingers pressed into Tenzo’s arm, remembering an afternoon they’d spent lying in the shade of a willow, disobeying an order to return directly after a mission. They’d laughed instead. Tenzo could always make him laugh.
Was that the last time he’d held Tenzo’s arm like this?
“What?” said Tenzo, leaning his head against the window’s edge, his haipuri clicking metal to metal.
“Why are you here?”
Tenzo picked at a frayed thread on the edge of his gloves. “I’ve been ordered to lead Team 7.”
“Makes sense.” Kakashi’s hand dropped down Tenzo’s arm and picked up his hand, fingers circling his palm.
“I’m-I’m not replacing you. I could never replace you-” Tenzo spoke fragmented, quickly, watching Kakashi’s fingers still circle his palm until he slid fingers beside fingers and held his hand, tight. Tenzo was sure half of the reason he did it was to stop falling down the wall, his body shaking from the effort it took to stand.
“Welcome to the family,” said Kakashi quietly, before he looked up at Tenzo, his brown hair bleached by the moonlight.
“I thought I already was.” Tenzo leant down, his mask pushing against messy, silver hair as forehead met forehead, Tenzo’s long lashes kissing Kakashi’s tired skin.