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Kakashi buys the plant because it’s pitiful. Yellowing leaves droop over the edge of the pot. They hang like heads in defeat, pliable and depressed. He roots through the foliage for the price tag because he’s bored and curious, and Kurenai will be a long while yet with her shopping. They’re here at the market for books, not weeds, and he considers the tag with a sympathetic sound. He doesn’t know the first thing about gardening but even he can see the plant is doomed.
A few coins and a disbelieving seller later, Kakashi wiggles the plant in amongst his bag of books.
It barely survives the afternoon jostling about the market - and so does he. Kurenai buys him an iced coffee which he considers sharing with the plant, but he thinks better of it. It’s good coffee. The straw is a perfect excuse not to partake in conversation, and he throws up a genjutsu to hide his face. Kurenai’s genjutsu skills far surpass his own, but she’s kind enough to avert her eyes while he drinks. She doesn't mind his silence, either, but she does raise her eyebrows at the sickly leaves drooping from his bag.
They part ways near the Sarutobi complex, tapping vambraces in farewell. The complex isn’t walled like the Uchiha district or guarded like the Hyūga’s. It's small in comparison, but still the largest residence in the block. The Sarutobi family never had the numbers of its neighbouring clans, but now it’s dwindling. Asuma and Kurenai might be able to do something about that, but Kakashi balks at the details. He’ll leave bearing and raising children to those who like the idea, and content himself with his books, his dogs, and his bad decisions to occasionally kiss Gai.
Gai’s apartment is a short body-flicker from the Sarutobi complex. Kakashi breaks in through the window. He has a key that he never uses, and an apartment of his own across the village. He hardly uses that, either. Most nights, he crashes under the kotatsu in Gai’s front room, with or without Gai’s knowledge. The dogs appreciate the electric heater, and Kakashi likes the non-commitment of skulking at the edge of Gai’s space. Win-win.
There’s a pair of slippers by the base of the window. Kakashi switches into them before his feet touch the ground. He’ll invite himself into Gai’s home, eat all of his food, and use up all of the hot water, but he isn’t uncivilised.
“Yo."
Gai looks up from his knitting. It’s not an art he’s particularly good at, but it’s like him to need a hobby that occupies his hands. The click-clack of the needles stops, but the music from the kitchen radio continues. The partition separating the two rooms is wide open, and light floods the space. He looks comfortable, basking in warmth and surrounded by yarn. A clip holds his hair from his face. It’s unspeakably casual for Gai. He would never host guests in such a state, and Kakashi freezes at the thought that he might not be one.
"Rival! I wasn't expecting you."
"Ah," says Kakashi. That much is clear. He considers his shoes in one hand and the bag in the other. Just feet away, Gai smiles brighter than the afternoon sun. His face is a little pink, as though he's been caught doing something he shouldn't, but he doesn't look unhappy to see Kakashi. He never has.
Acknowledging that does weird things to Kakashi's stomach. It almost compels him to leave, but then he'll have a dead plant to deal with by himself. He doesn’t want that.
"I bought a plant,” he says, holding up the bag.
Gai blinks. He's always taken Kakashi's eccentricities in stride, and today is no exception. "I hadn't realised you had an interest in gardening!"
Kakashi wouldn’t say it’s the gardening that interests him. "Ah, not really…"
"Then it is a new hobby - a sprouting hobby, you could say! We must nurture it! Hard work and -"
"It's for you," Kakashi interrupts, dropping the bag into Gai's lap. The poor plant is on its last legs. His breath catches at Gai's awestruck expression, and something awful-wonderful flutters in his chest. He tries to play it cool. "It's pretty dead so don't get too excited. I thought you might be able to save it."
Gai's the one with the green thumb - and the green everything. Tears flood his eyes. "Kakashi -"
"It's just a plant. Don't look like that."
Gai lifts the plant from the bag. It really is pathetic. It's more yellow than green, and it wilts like soggy cheese in his hands. He inspects the leaves with a gentle touch. The price tag makes him laugh.
"I will do my best to save him!" he says, and nobody else could sound as sincere. “Out in the sun, he’ll be as good as new! That’s a promise!”
Gai’s apartment has the luxury of a balcony. His futon and duvet hang over it now, drying out in the sun. A kunai wire crosses over their heads, and from it dangles pillowcases and clothes. Gai’s jumpsuits sway like flat octopuses in the breeze. If the balcony wasn’t green enough, potted plants of all shapes and sizes cover every inch, stacking up on shelves and climbing the railing. Kakashi pushes a gigantic leave from his face as he follows Gai outside. Despite the clutter, Gai has no trouble finding a spot for the new plant. He nestles it beside a row of herbs, none of which Kakashi recognises.
Gai pats the sorry-looking plant. “Some water and nutrients, and you’ll be fighting fit! It’s a good thing my Rival brought you to me. Do you think he’ll stay for dinner?”
The plant says nothing. Neither does Kakashi, proving he’s not so different from a mostly-dead plant. He may not bask in the sun, but Gai’s smile does funny things to his feelings, and he finds himself seeking that brightness in the darkest of times. Having Gai around… is reassuring. Heat rises to Kakashi’s face. He shifts his weight, deliberating, and realises he’s still holding his shoes.
“I suppose I could,” Kakashi says, turning back into the apartment. He feels Gai’s happiness like a beam of sunlight on his back. He ducks into the shadows before he does something stupid like kiss Gai out here in the open. The plants won’t mind, but the thought of being exposed sends a shiver down Kakashi’s spine.
It’s cooler in the apartment. Kakashi hadn’t realised he was sweating. He tidies his shoes away before he can second-guess himself, and the clack of sliding doors follows Gai inside. The outside bustle of Konoha quietens, leaving only the tune from the radio. The song is indistinct and meaningless. It’s just background sound; the familiar white noise of Gai’s apartment. He likes it better than his own apartment. The only thing missing is eight rambunctious dogs.
Gai approaches behind him. His fingers brush Kakashi’s back. He presses a kiss into unruly white hair.
“I thought you were spending the evening at Asuma’s,” Gai says. He sounds pleased - and trying to hide it. As though he could.
Kakashi hums. The Sarutobi family are just as familiar with his fickle ways. He doesn’t promise to be anywhere at any point. Asuma and Kurenai and the rest of the family will understand. Gai’s the most enthusiastic about Kakashi's unexpected visits - and maybe that’s half the reason they’re dating. They’ve known each other for over twenty years and Gai is still pleased to see him every single time.
Kakashi likes seeing Gai too, of course. But there’s no need to be so overt about it. “I thought you were cooking me dinner,” he says.
Gai squeezes him tightly, laughing. “You could offer to help!”
“Maa, that’s not part of the deal,” Kakashi says, not even pretending to think about it. “I bought you a present.”
“It is a very nice present,” Gai agrees. He noses Kakashi’s neck like one of the ninken. (Or maybe the ninken seek affection like people, but Kakashi has more experience with dogs). “What else did you buy? Books?”
“Mhm. But they’re for me.”
“I should hope so,” Gai says, eyeing the bag suspiciously. “I know what kinds of books you read.”
Kakashi smiles. He squeezes Gai’s hand and they untangle, sharing one last kiss as they part. It’s hardly a proper kiss with Kakashi’s mask up, but sometimes it’s all he can offer.
Gai looks delighted all the same.
The plant survives. Kakashi’s certainly not attached to it, but it did cost him a few coins. In the mornings when Gai is singing in the shower, he rolls out from under the kotatsu and sneaks over to the balcony to check if it’s alive. It doesn’t perk up at his arrival like his dogs, but as the days go by, it starts looking less pathetic. Maybe there’s hope for it. Kakashi prods the leaves and sips his coffee, and when Gai stops singing, he slips back inside.
The balcony spans Gai’s bedroom. As always, Gai’s futon is packed away by the time Kakashi wakes, leaving the room almost bare. Knickknacks from his students decorate the edges of the room, and plants spill in from outside, slowly infesting the space. Kakashi’s gaze drifts towards the closet. There’s a spare futon in there, he knows, and he worries his lip. Most people would’ve fallen into bed together by now. Kakashi is not most people.
He returns to the front room, still cradling the coffee. He’s slept here three times this week, and each time, a cup was ready for him in the morning. The first time, he was too tired to think much of it, and the second was a surprise. Now, he can’t help but wonder what Gai wants from him. It’s not like Gai to be indirect. That’s Kakashi’s job. Still, he’s not going to turn his nose up at free coffee, and he’s not going to confront Gai about it, but the thought lingers in the back of his mind.
There’s a few things Gai could want. Kakashi’s not sure he can give any of them.
The coffee’s good, though. And Gai hopping past in a towel certainly isn’t bad.
Kakashi dwells on that thought until Gai reappears with the towel slung over his shoulders. He's dressed now, which is both a relief and a shame, although his jumpsuit is peeled down to his waist. The sleeves knot neatly over his navel. Water drips from his hair and sparkles on the mesh undershirt that so few people get to see. It's a good look. A great one. Kakashi may only have one eye half the time and the depth of field of a rock, but he's not blind. Gai is buff. Painfully so. The jumpsuit is an eyesore and a distraction, but the mesh is glorious.
“Rival! Have you not finished your coffee? You're going to be late for your meeting with Lady Hokage!"
Kakashi's happy being late if it means admiring Gai a little longer.
He slurps his coffee. His meeting with Tsunade is confidential. He may trust Gai implicitly, but their Hokage can punch holes through walls. "Did I tell you about that?"
"The Lady Hokage called out to me while I was climbing the Hokage's Rock this morning!" Gai explains, eyes glinting. The Rock looms with the presence of its makers over the Hokage’s Residence. Gai hollering at the crack of dawn must’ve woken Tsunade, and Kakashi doubts she had anything nice to say about that. "I was blindfolded at the time, but I recognised her voice!"
Not that Gai would have been able to recognise her face, even scaling a gigantic replica of it.
Uh-huh, Kakashi says, amused despite himself. "And she knew you'd see me - how?"
Gai strikes a victorious pose. "Our Rivalry is known all throughout the village, that's how! We are Men of Destiny, locked in battle! Our challenges are legendary! Also,” he says, dropping his voice. “I told her. But there is no harm in that."
Kakashi sighs. The easy bliss of mornings in Gai’s apartment droops like that half-dead plant. He should've kept his mouth shut. A more familiar feeling sprouts in his chest: panic. His gaze darts from Gai to the door, and he hates himself just a little bit more.
"She's going to get the wrong idea."
And then I'll never hear the end of it, he thinks. Ever since Tsunade returned to the village, she's been hell-bent on making his life miserable. There was some reason about being his father’s friend - or enemy, it’s hard to say. First, she antagonised him about the sharingan, and now it's training to take the hat. Gai's not supposed to know about that, though, and Tsunade isn't supposed to know about Gai.
She'll assume they're having sex. Everyone does. Kakashi's skin crawls at the thought.
"There is no wrong idea," Gai says. “We're Rivals."
If only it was as simple as that. Kakashi dumps the dregs of his coffee down the sink.
“Don’t want to be late for my meeting, do I?” he sing-songs, ignoring the crease to Gai’s brow. It’s not fleeing if he has to leave anyway, and it’s not avoiding a problem if he refuses to acknowledge that there’s a problem to avoid.
“No, of course not,” Gai says, slowly, unsure. He dithers just out of reach, which is a safe place to be. “Should I expect you for dinner tonight?”
“I’ll be at Asuma’s.”
Gai nods once, as though he’d expected that. Whether that was always Kakashi’s plan isn’t worth questioning - in fact, he knows better - and regardless of any snub or frustration he must be feeling, he still has a smile to bid Kakashi goodbye.
Kakashi’s traitorous heart can’t handle it. “You know you’re invited," he hears himself say.
Gai blinks. His smile wobbles and then brightens tenfold. Kakashi basks it in like that useless plant. “I do? Yes! I most certainly do! I will see you tonight, then.”
Hopefully Kakashi hasn't made a mistake. “Right.”
“I look forward to it!”
“Mhm.”
Gai’s sparkling intensifies. Kakashi can almost hear the glinting, like gold coins in a pocket, or hail against a window. The only hail in Gai’s life is Kakashi’s mood, and Kakashi curses everything about himself as he snatches Gai’s vest. The mesh is cool and clinks in his hand, and Gai’s breath is warm and surprised as Kakashi steals it from his lips.
“I’m still angry at you.”
Gai huffs a laugh, brushing hair from Kakashi’s eyes. This close, the damp of his towel seeps into Kakashi’s shirt. His wet fringe sticks to both of their faces. He kisses Kakashi’s forehead. “I may not have your eye, Rival, but I did notice.”
Kakashi nods. He loosens his grip on Gai’s vest, smoothing the metal rings back into place. Nothing else is said, but some of his panic eases away. An apology rises up his throat, but he shoves it down along with the rest of his befuddling feelings.
He's a mere thirty minutes late to the meeting.
“Guess I have Maito to thank,” is all Tsunade says on the matter - on either matter. She kicks out a chair and pours herself a scotch. It’s barely ten AM. “Park your ass, we’re talking politics. You want one?”
Kakashi can still taste coffee in his mouth. He can still feel Gai’s lips against his. He thinks of bundling under the kotatsu in Gai’s apartment and sighs. He would rather be there, warm and cozy, with the uncertainty of Gai’s desires, than here with the prospect of one-day inheriting the hat.
“I probably shouldn’t.”
"Suit yourself," says Tsunade, and she downs the scotch.
Atsuna is smoking on the Sarutobi family porch when Kakashi arrives. As the eldest living Sarutobi and Lord Third’s younger sister, she is the esteemed Lady of the house. By rights, she is also the clan head and protector of the family following Lord Third’s death, but Atsuna claims to be “bored of all that chin-wagging nonsense”, which is a decision Kakashi can respect. In fact, he respects her far more than he ever respected Lord Third, but that’s an opinion Kakashi keeps to himself and Gai.
Even still, Atsuna is like her brother in many ways. She is even-tempered but stern, and she shares Lord Third’s fondness for tobacco. She has the same peppered hair and small eyes, but when Kakashi waggles his fingers in greeting, she smiles as Lord Third never had.
“Gai warned us you were coming,” Atsuna says. “Straightforward lad, that one.”
Warned probably isn’t the word Gai used.
“That was nice of him,” Kakashi drawls, hands stuffed in his pockets. His decision to inconvenience the Sarutobis instead of Gai tonight was a moment of panic, but Atsuna doesn’t need to know that. He probably should have told her to expect him, but of course he could trust Gai to have his back.
A warm evening settles over Konoha. Kakashi claims a spot on the couch and flips open a book, and it promises to be a peaceful night. Gai arriving will change that, but Kakashi has some time until then. Too much time. His thoughts stray to that morning, to Gai singing in the shower and coffee in the sun. He wonders if Gai will have left his jumpsuit unzipped, and Kakashi smashes his face into his book to hide an embarrassed smile.
He misses Gai. Even if the rest of his feelings are a mess, that much is true.
His face is a mess, too, once Konohamaru decides it's the perfect canvas to test his paints. It’s certainly not the worst state the Sarutobi family has ever seen him in, although it might be the most colourful, and more than one mouth unrolls into a smile at the nauseating smattering of spirals, kunai, and shuriken painted over Kakashi’s face and mask.
“Heya kiddo,” Asuma greets, a whole two years older than Kakashi and prepared to rub it in every day. "Konohamaru got you, huh?”
Konohamaru has run off looking for more paint, so Asuma is safe to laugh.
Kakashi offers a flat look. “No, I did this to myself,” he deadpans, gesturing to the pink Uzushio spiral between his eyes. His mask hasn’t deterred little Konohamaru in the slightest, and now Kakashi has dog teeth on both sides of the fabric. He smiles despite himself, those sharp teeth catching his skin. Konohamaru’s energetic and loud, and more stubborn than the rest of the Sarutobis combined, but he’s a good kid. Not many people would dare scribble all over Kakashi’s face.
“I like the green,” Asuma says, grinning. It’s been nearly ten years since he started treating Kakashi like a little brother, and Kakashi is still suffering. “Now you just need a jumpsuit.”
“Shove off,” Kakashi not-swears as Konohamaru dashes back into the room. He manages not to cringe at the neon yellow tube of paint, but the wobble in his laughter betrays his unease. “Why don’t you paint your uncle?” he prompts, bracing himself as Konohamaru clambers back into his lap. The kid’s just as wiggly as Naruto - and Naruto’s a Uzumaki. At least Konohamaru doesn’t have those pre-teen elbows and knees. “I think Asuma needs a bullseye right on his forehead.”
Asuma laughs. So does Konohamaru, whipping around to his uncle with paint in hand.
Kakashi can’t say he’s fond of kids. Gai handles them better. They’re confusing and small, and their thoughts run a mile a minute. He’s never quite sure what they want, and it unnerves him. The whims of children seem to change with the wind and he never knows what to expect. He prefers the predictable; comforts himself with it. Every tragedy in Kakashi’s life was unexpected, and he doesn’t like unexpected things.
Gai arrives as Konohamaru paints paw-prints onto the back of Kakashi’s hands. Kakashi feels the Sarutobi seals welcome Gai’s fiery chakra, and then there’s a shrill cry of surprise as Asuma’s other aunt opens the door.
“Who’s that?” Konohamaru asks, peeping over the couch. He has far too much energy, even for an eight year old.
Kakashi knows someone who might be able to help with that.
“That's your second canvas,” Kakashi replies seriously. If he's going to look like an idiot in front of Gai, then Gai needs to look like an idiot too. "Why don't you go and grab him?"
"Of course I am happy to assist with your artwork!" Gai declares, as Konohamaru drags him into the room. His eyes dazzle as he catches sight of Kakashi. Konohamaru seats them together on the couch, and Gai's so excited that his chakra sparkles around him. His face is gently tan from the sun, and there's grass stuck to his shoulders from rolling about the training field with his students. He won't kiss Kakashi with Konohamaru looking, but Kakashi half-wishes he would.
"I see you're already hard at work!" Gai says, his gaze warm with more than one type of admiration.
Konohamaru is eight and of course doesn't notice, but Kakashi diverts his attention somewhere safer, like the fraying edge of the couch. Having Gai around may be reassuring - and it is, even when it's annoying and even when they disagree - but it's also as confusing as fuck.
"I think Kakashi would like to draw on me, too," Gai says. There's nothing suggestive about his tone this time, but it feels like there should be.
Konohamaru looks between them, his face scrunched in confusion. Kakashi would like to mirror that expression, but it's difficult with rainbow kunai all over his face.
Together, they doodle on Gai. He rolls up his sleeves all the way to his shoulders, and Konohamaru gives him an ANBU "tattoo".
Kakashi debates painting a dick on Gai's cheek, but thinks better of it. There’s a child present. He waits until Konohamaru is distracted and then draws a heart instead. Gai accidentally smudges it when he tries to kiss Kakashi’s nose, and then they both have purple streaks all the way up to their ears. Kakashi laughs, a blush rising up his face to turn him pink.
Atsuna beckons them to dinner. Kurenai proves she's the only decent person in the house when she throws them some face wipes to clean up with.
“I wanted to apologise for this morning,” Gai says, scrubbing the remains of the heart away.
It was a good heart, if Kakashi could say so himself, and he hums instead of answering. The apology was only a matter of time. Gai never shies away from his feelings; be that happiness, regret, or grief. Everything about him is so much, and that includes his sincerity. It’s one of the few sincerities in the village Kakashi trusts.
“I feel like I went behind your back and that isn’t what I wanted. You’re my Rival and I’ve never been afraid to tell people that! But I made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry. I trust the Lady Hokage didn’t say anything?”
Kakashi tilts his head, acknowledging. The apology doesn’t quell any anger within him, but he’s not sure he was all that angry, after all. He wipes the ANBU “tattoo” from Gai’s shoulder. It smears like blood over Gai’s skin. “She wanted to thank you, actually, since I was almost on time.”
“That was all?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Kakashi drawls.
“No, I only meant - I would talk to her, if need be.”
Kakashi wipes the last of the ANBU mark away. Ridding himself of his own tattoo isn’t as easy. “I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time,” he muses, lowering his voice. Painting a dick on Gai’s face would be more appropriate than speaking ill of Lord Third here. “It’s not like you to let what other people say bother you.”
“It bothers you,” Gai says. “It’s always bothered you.”
Kakashi supposes it has. He stares at the wet wipe scrunched up in his grasp. At times like this, he misses his ANBU mask. The anonymity of Hound was a powerful tool. He knew what to expect with a porcelain face, and he knew what others expected of him. It’s different now, with the kids, his friends, and Gai. But he can’t fool himself into thinking that it’s Gai who’s changed.
“Do you have a spare mask with you?”
“Of course!” Gai cries, barely missing a beat. He whips out one of Kakashi’s black masks from his jōnin jacket as though it has any right to be there. He folds it into a little square before handing it over, as though Kakashi’s compulsion to hide himself away is something to cherish.
Kakashi’s the reason they’re arguing. Kakashi’s avoidance is the reason they’re not really arguing.
“I’m terrible with words,” he says.
“I know,” says Gai. He presses the mask into Kakashi’s paw-printed hands.
Something has changed, but Kakashi’s not sure what. He follows Gai home without a word, hands in his pockets and arms close to his body. The front door of Gai’s apartment is an unusual sight. He almost drops in through the window just for the sake of it, but then Gai is holding open the door.
It’s late - but they have their routine. Kakashi showers while Gai prepares the bedding. He has his own towel here, and enough clothes for a week. The sun has set but it’s warm still, threatening humidity. Kakashi can feel it like lightning in his hair. His binder’s a nightmare to pull off with the sweat. It smells worse than his mask and that’s an achievement, so he throws it into the laundry basket to deal with tomorrow.
The kitchen smells like camomile. Kakashi shuffles in with his shorts sticking to his thighs. The kotatsu and all its pillows are laid out in the front room, but it’s too hot to think about that now. Gai dives into the bathroom to cool off, and Kakashi frowns at the cup of tea on the counter.
It’s not coffee - but it was waiting for him.
Straightforward lad, Atsuna had said about Gai.
Kakashi carries it out onto the balcony.
Gai’s plants are pleased for the summer. The one Kakashi salvaged last week is green and brilliant now. Some of its leaves are still a little floppy, but there’s no harm in that. He’d known Gai would be able to save it, but he still can’t believe his luck. It would’ve been such a terrible gift if it had died.
“What are you thinking about?” Gai asks, squeezing Kakashi into a hug.
“Your plants.”
“I fear I’m running out of space to house them all,” Gai laments. “I need a bigger balcony.”
“You need less plants.”
“Never!” Gai cries. “I will find more space. I just have to think outside the box a little - and adapt!”
Kakashi hums into his tea. They speak of expanding Gai’s garden until he’s finished the drink, and then when it’s time for bed, they part ways. Kakashi bundles himself under the kotatsu with a fan whirring in his face, and he lies there for some time, thinking and overthinking about the fact that he followed Gai home.
“Fuck’s sake.”
He picks up the fan and takes it to Gai’s room. It’s not a plant or an apology, but it will have to do.
“You know,” Kakashi begins, searching for a power socket in the dark. It’s already cooler in Gai’s room with the door open, but he needs the excuse. He pats along the wall until he finds one, dragging the fan across the floor. Gai’s alert by then, but even Kakashi’s genin would be awake with all the noise. “You know, most people aren’t totally okay when I say I’m not interested in sex.”
The fan whirs to life. Kakashi dumps it in the corner and crosses the room to Gai’s futon in two determined strides. He’s atop Gai before he can second-guess himself, holding him down onto the mattress. His fingers span Gai’s shoulder and neck. Gai’s hair is shorter at the back, finer. Kakashi could dig his fingers into it. He could swipe his hand over Gai’s jugular; he could push a chidori through his ribs.
Gai is pliant - utterly still. His expression is wide and unassuming, if not a little baffled, and he could lean up if he really wanted to, or push Kakashi away. He doesn’t. His hands spread flat on the duvet between them, and it’s an inaction that bears considering.
He trusts Kakashi’s touch - and Kakashi trusts his touch.
“I am not most people,” Gai says proudly. His heart hammers under Kakashi’s hand, his chest rises and falls.
Kakashi can feel Gai aching to touch. He can feel most of Gai, relaxed and hot under the duvet. Long weeks of almosts and nearlys have landed them here, and now that they are here, Kakashi doesn’t know what to do. He isn’t usually so impulsive, and he isn’t casually physical about his affection like Gai. Gai’s touchy-feely about these things, and Kakashi’s just touchy, a dithering plant on a shelf.
He slides his hands down to Gai’s chest, pushing some space between them. He’s aware that astride Gai’s lap is a provocative position. Thoughts like that compel something inside of him to shrivel.
“I’m not really angry at you.”
A grin grows across Gai’s face. His hands remain near Kakashi’s thighs which is - fine. “I think… I am beginning to see that,” Gai says, and let it be said that he may not catch on quickly, but he does catch on. “This morning - you were worried Lady Tsunade would comment on our sexual lives?”
Trust Gai to word it like that.
Kakashi glowers. “Everyone does.”
Gai nods as though he expected that answer. “Does that include me?”
Straightforward lad, Atsuna said.
This morning, Kakashi wouldn’t have hesitated. “I don’t know,” he says, and he hates it. Over twenty years they’ve known each other, and yet only Gai has figured his rival out. Kakashi didn’t think there was anything about Gai to figure out - or maybe he’s overthinking it, just as he overthinks everything else.
Sometimes coffee is coffee.
“Does it?”
Gai’s grin only brightens, sparkles gathering in his eyes. They might be tears. He cups Kakashi’s face in one swift motion, fingers spanning his jaw and tickling the white hair behind his ears. “The truth is, Rival, I am just happy to be here with you! To be at your side is everything I’ve ever wanted, so to be given anything more is a most wonderful thing!”
The neighbours can probably hear him. Kakashi certainly can, but that doesn’t mean the words make any sense. It’s awfully magnanimous to expect so little, even for Gai. Kakashi has yet to meet a single person who hasn’t laughed in the face of his needs.
“D’you even know what you’re saying?”
“Of course I do!” Gai says, thumbing over the scar bisecting Kakashi’s eye. Kakashi’s face scrunches, maskless, which seems to amuse him. “We don’t have to have sex. Not now - or ever. Our Rivalry didn’t need it before! I don’t assume it will happen - and I don’t expect it. And that’s a promise!”
Gai’s promises are nothing to scoff at. Kakashi considers it: considers Gai. The fan blows cool air between them, soothing the silence with the familiar white noise of the apartment. Kakashi’s vest flutters in the breeze. Gai must be sweltering. His neck is sticky with sweat, and so is his chest as Kakashi slides his fingers down.
It’s hard to forget exactly where Kakashi is sitting. “So this…?”
“Is very nice,” Gai declares, catching Kakashi’s hand and lifting it to kiss. “But doesn’t mean we have to have sex.”
“But you want to.”
“I - I do, yes. And you do not.”
Kakashi can’t say it’s ever occurred to him to want it. It feels like the village is in on an elaborate joke at his expense - and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. He doesn’t like what people whisper about him, and he doesn’t like the way they look at him, as though he’d be more interesting without a mask.
“And you’re just - fine with that?”
“Yes. I do not know how to put it any simpler. I know how careful you are with your affections. That is fine! But I need you to trust that I am sure in mine.”
Trusting Gai was never in question.
“Okay,” Kakashi says, but it doesn’t feel like enough. He leans down, tipping himself forward onto his forearms. This close, Gai’s breath of surprise is warm on his skin. He can see Gai’s fringe waving in the breeze, and he smiles, pushing a hand through Gai’s hair. It’s thick and short, and Gai tips his head back, enjoying the caress. All he needs is a clip to complete the look.
“That spare futon...”
“It’s yours,” Gai says, eyes slipping shut. His smile is big and loopy. “Whenever you want it. I can roll it out in the front room, if you’d prefer.”
“And give up my kotatsu? No thanks.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Gai’s mouth. It’s so wide, it’s easy to find in the dark. Kakashi turns his face to brush their lips together, and it’s barely a kiss, this time, momentary intent. It doesn’t have to be anything else. “Think I’ll roll it out here.”
“I’d like that,” Gai says - and it’s Gai.
Of course he would.