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"ACCESS DENIED.”
Gai pouts at the door, his reflection deformed in the camera lens. He inputs the code again, muscle-memory guiding him through the lock. The light is sensationless over his hand, artificial like most of the ship. The swirling layers of the lock fizzle away like stardust with each input, and yet even on this fifth attempt, the door is emotionless when it informs him:
“ACCESS DENIED.”
Gai purses his lips and gives the door a long, hard look.
“I’ll knock,” he threatens, sure that Kakashi is listening. “I’ll bang on this door ‘till you let me in. Don’t think changing the code will stop me!”
The lock chimes as it resets, the lights blinking back into existence. Gai considers trying his luck with the code again and clamps his tongue between his teeth, weighing his options. Civility only achieves so much with Kakashi. Today could be the day Gai finally tests whether he can wrench open the automatic doors by himself, but he doubts the engineers will appreciate his success.
He knocks. The dull sound echoes around the dormitory curve. It’s barely past 1600 hours so most of the crew are awake. Kakashi’s a bit of a hermit, true, but even he’s synced up with the ship’s day-night cycle. He’ll be awake - and he’ll be listening to Gai hammering down his door. It’s only a matter of time before he lets Gai in; Gai knows his rival, knows what aggravates him. Persistently loud people are right at the top of the list.
As expected, Gai doesn’t have to wait long before the door whooshes open. The nova-eyed glare that usually greets him is absent, as is Kakashi in his entirety. That may not be cause for concern. Gai steps in, eyes adjusting from the silver hallway to the dark. The door hisses shut behind him, enclosing him in Kakashi’s scarcely-lit quarters. A single spotlight reveals Kakashi hunched over on the bed, his right arm glowing half as bright. A bolt-like pattern of light seeps out between the mechanical plates of the prosthetic. Pieces of it are missing, scattered around him and glinting in the dim light.
"Yo," Kakashi says, but it's quieter than usual, his voice sore. He holds himself like a wounded animal. Given the yellowing bruise peeking out from beneath his mask, this isn't much of a leap.
You should be in med-bay, Gai doesn't say. They both know it. Kakashi's almost as good at avoiding the medics as he is his problems. He's tone deaf to lectures, too, especially ones concerning the Springtime of Youth. Gai wouldn’t lecture him now, anyway. It would be cruel, and useless, and would only serve to anger him.
Gai parks himself at Kakashi’s feet, right on the floor. This earns him a slight eyebrow quirk but no other reaction. He smiles (because he can’t help but smile around Kakashi) and holds out his hands.
“Do you have all the pieces?”
Kakashi narrows his eyes as though deciding whether to lie. “Probably,” he says, which is just the right amount of vacillating to be neither the truth nor a falsehood. He lays his robotic arm in Gai’s hands, the glow pulsing but his fingers cool and unmoving. Scorch marks blacken the metal as though he held a fire in his palm.
“Are the nerve-endings live?” Gai asks.
“Mhm.”
“Where’s your antibac?”
“Somewhere.”
Gai shakes Kakashi’s fried hand very, very gently, reproachful. Kakashi’s eyes crinkle with mirth, one synthetic and the other real. He tilts his head to the bedside wall. Gai presses one of the Hidden Leaf imprints and pulls open the drawer. In amongst the clutter are a stack of regenerative seals and a roll of antibac fabric. He grabs both. The seals won’t do any good for Kakashi’s prosthetic but Gai can slap one on his face once the mask comes down. He tears off a wad of the antibac and dabs around the grooves on Kakashi's mechanical hand, clearing away the grime. It'll need a proper scrub once his nerve fibres calm down. For now, this will have to do. Kakashi is notorious for neglecting himself and his cybernetics aren't immune to his ways. Anything Gai can offer is more than what Kakashi would offer himself.
Gai works in silence. Once the surface-level dirt is gone, he inspects the burns. In many ways, a mechanical arm should be treated like an arm of flesh, but an antibiotic soak for the burns won't do any good. A round with a dermal regenerator is pointless. He's better off scrubbing at it with an acidic solution and no small amount of elbow grease. Sometimes the old ways are best. Of course, it doesn't appear as though Kakashi's prepared the cleaning solution, but Gai is no means surprised.
He gestures for the plasmaget. Kakashi hands it over, humming but otherwise not making a sound. Gai flicks on the plasmaget and dials it to the smallest setting. It fizzles almost periwinkle, so bright that it hurts his eyes. He moves away from Kakashi’s hand, plucking pieces of shrapnel from his arm.
“This needs maintenance,” Gai says, thumbing over some of the deeper grazes. It looks like Kakashi stuck his arm into an explosive seal. He’s lucky he didn’t lose any fingers. “Shall I log a call with Bionics?”
Kakashi shrugs. It looks like it pains him to do so - the idiot. “Probably. Guess it won’t heal on its own.”
He sounds so put out by this that Gai can only smile. “Not all of us can be blessed with Naruto’s regenerative abilities.”
“Shame.”
A proclamation of challenge nearly bursts from Gai’s chest, but at the last moment, he beats it down. There is a time and a place for their mighty contests (and that’s most places and almost any time) but not now, not with Kakashi’s poppy-red eye scrutinising him. He’s not afraid of the sharingan by any means; it’s simply that, with most of his face concealed, Kakashi’s eyes are his most expressive feature and Gai has learnt to read them well. A competition of vigour won't be appreciated right now.
Gai likes to think he is an approachable person - but he is not, he knows, always an honest one. No one avoids their problems as well as Kakashi does but Gai isn’t immune to burying his head in the sand. He isn’t proud of it. He tries not to make a habit of it. But if he can’t workout-regime his way through an issue, then sometimes, he’s at a loss for what to do.
Luckily, he’s been dealing with Kakashi for many, many years.
“I’d sleep easier if you were," he admits, and Kakashi (the bastard) scoffs.
“You already sleep like a log.”
Very true. A good night's sleep is important! “Well, yes. A restless one!" Gai tries, hoping for more of a reaction. Sarcasm is Kakashi's secondary choice of problem-solving, right after ignoring them.
Kakashi laughs. The genuineness of it startles them both. “What do you want, Gai? Why are you here?”
Gai flicks off the plasmaget before he accidentally skewers a wire in Kakashi’s arm. “I heard you were back from your away mission and wanted to check in! I know how terrible you are at looking after yourself.” He presses on before Kakashi can object. “You changed the lock on your door!”
“Didn’t stop you, did it?”
“I like to think you don’t want me to stop,” Gai says, jabbing Kakashi’s thigh with the rounded end of the plasmaget.
This earns him a sigh. “You should know when to.”
“I do,” Gai says, rising up to the challenge. He flicks the plasmaget onto the spanner setting and starts reattaching the loose plates of Kakashi’s prosthetic. Anything too damaged, he adds to a pile to be recycled. Everything else is slotted back into place one piece at a time, carefully aligned, bolted, or screwed into position. Throughout it all Kakashi says nothing, bionics clinking as he curls the metal fingers of his hand.
Once there’s nothing else Gai can do, he taps the Hidden Leaf on the band around his bicep. “YAMANAKA, please schedule an appointment between Bionics and Hatake Kakashi for maintenance.”
The ship’s communication network chimes. “Appointment scheduled for 0900 hours. Voice confirmation required.”
“0900?” Kakashi grouses, swatting back when Gai gives his knee a nudge. “Fine. Confirm, YAMANAKA.”
“Appointment confirmed, 0900 hours.”
“Thank you, YAMANAKA,” Gai says, tapping the insignia again.
Kakashi’s exasperated look isn’t quite as venomous once he closes his ruby eye. “I don’t need to be babied.”
“Of course not!” Gai cries, rising up to his knees. He curls his hand under Kakashi’s chin, offering a toothy smile. “Babies don’t require voice confirmation in YAMANAKA.”
“Ha ha."
“Any other injuries I should know about?” Gai asks, wiggling Kakashi’s mask down. The bruise on his cheek bleeds down to his jaw and neck, violently purple. It looks like someone tried to take his head off with a blunt pipe. Gai tips Kakashi’s head back, searching for open wounds.
Kakashi sighs at the spotlight. “You shouldn’t even know about these ones.”
“Good thing we’re as stubborn as each other then."
“Is that a good thing?” Kakashi grumbles, wincing as Gai lays a regen-seal across his face. He bares his teeth like a dog, the Hatake canines sharp and surly. The seal glows green. “I think that’s a bad thing.”
“You say that about everything.”
“But am I wrong?”
“Never.”
Kakashi smiles, lopsided because of the seal covering his face. His gaze finds Gai's, brown and amused. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Gai grins back. “I know!" He peels the seal away, inspecting its work. The bruise is almost gone. Relieved, he cups Kakashi's face with both hands. "You should rest. Tomorrow is a new day!" He punches the air. "Join me in the gym for training!"
"I have an appointment in the morning, apparently," Kakashi deadpans.
"At 0900 hours, yes! There's plenty of time before then!"
"For you, maybe. Aren't you on the graveyard shift tonight, anyway?"
Gai blinks. He drops his hand. "Ah. Yes, I am. You keep track?"
"It's the only time I get peace and quiet," Kakashi replies, which may be the truth but not the whole truth, given the splash of colour across his face. There's no need for him to feel embarrassed about how much he cares, but that's typical Kakashi. Gai can be unabashed enough for them both.
He pats Kakashi's knee, glad the regen-seal has helped. Once Bionics have cleaned up his prosthetic, he'll be as good as new.
"Then I won't disrupt your evening any further," Gai says. He makes to stand. "Don't forget -"
A hand on his arm stops him, metallic and blue. Gently, those burnt fingers squeeze. "You're not disrupting anything."
Given the lock on the door, Gai would say he is. "Are you -?"
"Gai."
Warmth flutters in Gai's chest. It feels like lightning under his skin. Kakashi would never use a chidori on a crewman, but he may as well have.
The graveyard shift isn't for a few hours yet. That's enough time for - anything.
"You'll have to let me to clear up first," Gai says, gesturing to the pile of scraps. The plasmaget alone is a weapon in the wrong hands. "Lights -"
"They're fine," Kakashi interrupts, metal fingers cool against Gai's face. He trails his index finger below Gai's mouth. "Leave them."
"But the mess -"
It clatters and clangs as Kakashi sweeps it all onto the floor.
Gai doesn't roll his eyes. He doesn't. "One of us is going to tread on that."
"Maa, it'll be you."
"So I should -"
"Later."
"But -"
"Later. Naruto nearly blew us all up on the away mission. Shouldn't you make sure I'm all right? Thoroughly?"
Gai's protest of I have been! dies on his tongue. He does roll his eyes this time - but fondly. He purses his lips, trying not to laugh.
The effort is unsuccessful. Kakashi scrubs a hand down his face, poppy-red peeking through his fingers. "Just... get on the bed."
Gai leans down to kiss him, all too happy to oblige.