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Iruka shunshinned into Kakashi’s flat one Saturday night, which was unexpected simply because they hadn’t actually agreed to meet that evening. The place’s wards flared and settled—Iruka’s chakra signature was one of the few they recognised without need for double- and triple-checks.
The sensei was still in full uniform, and though he looked rumpled, there were no signs of his coming fresh out of a fight. Kakashi took this as a good sign, relaxing from the crouch he’d rolled into on his bed, Sharingan eye open and whirling. He slid his left eye shut again, hands dropping the first-position hand sign common for most defensive jutsu.
“Iruka?” he asked.
The man lurched lightly on his feet. His eyes were closed. “Mm.”
Iruka tugged his hitai-ate off and let it drop to the floor, then fumbled with his flak vest before letting it slide off his shoulders as well. Kakashi watched the clumsy strip-tease for a moment, then opened his Sharingan eye again. There was nothing suspicious about the flow of Iruka’s chakra—no genjutsu remnants or malicious seals of any kind. If anything, the only thing about it that might be worrying was that his reserves seemed a bit depleted—not from explicit chakra usage, the way a field shinobi might experience, but from sheer bodily exhaustion wrought from one of Iruka’s favourite vices: overworking.
Shutting his dōjutsu once more, Kakashi sat back on his heels and tugged down his mask. “Iruka-sensei,” he singsonged softly, enunciating each sound with half a smile on his face.
Iruka frowned, then rubbed one eye, then pried both eyes open with great effort and looked around. He seemed confused for a moment, then slightly offended. “This isn’t my place,” he mumbled.
Kakashi wanted to say something cheesy like, ‘It could be,’ but he restrained himself. Iruka probably wouldn’t appreciate having Kakashi bring that up right then—the man looked dead on his feet, or at the very least about ready to fall asleep in his current standing position. Kakashi took a second to wonder if he would remain upright or if he would drop like a stone if that happened. Either way, Kakashi would carry Iruka to bed and tuck him in.
“You live twenty blocks from here,” Kakashi supplied. “To the south.”
Iruka sighed out a groan. “I wanted to shunshin home, but I guess I’m too tired.”
“So, you shunshinned here instead?” Kakashi asked with a chuckle, then gasped. “You think of this as home? A second home? My place?”
Iruka squinted at him. “What?”
“You like me? You like me.” Kakashi clutched his chest with both hands. “You like me!”
Iruka’s squint increased. “Uh.”
“This is a love confession,” Kakashi decided. “I can’t believe I’m wearing my old tank top and joggers for it, but I’m not complaining.” He launched himself off the bed and grabbed Iruka by the shoulders. “Come on, sensei, say it. You like me. Our casual trysts are no longer enough for you.”
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” Iruka mumbled. He closed his eyes again and leant forward, hands on Kakashi’s hips, chest pressing against Kakashi’s, and Kakashi bore his weight easily. “Can I crash here?”
“Of course,” Kakashi said, then cupped Iruka’s face and kissed him soundly.
Iruka made a small sound of complaint, but his expression was sleepy and soft and smiling, so Kakashi took it as permission to claim another kiss before relocating to the bed. After shuffling around for a bit and throwing the covers on, they settled down to sleep in a comfortable tangle of limbs.
The next morning, Kakashi crawled out of bed with all the skills of an elite jōnin and got them breakfast from the café down the corner. He got a few dorayaki for Iruka and some nikuman for himself, then drowned Iruka’s iced tea in sugar but kept his coffee perfectly black.
When he got back to his flat, Iruka was still snoring into the pillow. Kakashi set everything on his desk, moved the chair next to the bed to use as a table, and then moved their breakfast there. Once he was done, he crawled on top of Iruka and nuzzled him until the man tried to dislodge him with a rumbled curse.
“Good morning, precious,” Kakashi said, pulling down his mask to nip at Iruka’s jawline.
“Get off,” Iruka said, glaring up at him with sleepy eyes.
“Really, is that any way to treat your loving boyfriend who brought you breakfast in bed?”
“You’re not my—oh,” Iruka said, eyes flickering as he remembered their exchange from the previous night. He looked a lot more awake all of a sudden. “I guess you are.”
“I guess I am,” Kakashi said, grinning from ear to ear, well aware that his glee was probably pissing Iruka off. “We’re dating now. It’s official. You can’t escape.”
Iruka sighed. “I guess I walked into this.”
“You shunshinned into this, actually,” Kakashi said, then reached for a dorayaki and held it up to Iruka’s mouth. “Want some? It’s freshly-baked, and they had adzuki bean filling—your favourite.”
Iruka took a bite, then harrumphed as he munched on his treat. His pout was really cute, so Kakashi pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He didn’t even mind the sweetness of the bean paste. Iruka’s narrowed eyes seemed to say he did mind getting kissed as he ate, however, so Kakashi did the chivalrous thing and rolled off him.
They sat in bed, facing the chair with their breakfast, and mostly ate in silence at first. Iruka wasn’t a morning person, despite his waking up at dawn most days, and Kakashi had no trouble letting him slowly adjust to being conscious once more.
As he reached for his fourth dorayaki, Iruka said, “You know I’m going to make a sucky boyfriend, right? I work too much, I always have something work-related to do at home, and I mostly just want to sleep when I’m free.”
“You know I know all of that, right?” Kakashi said, then took a sip of his coffee. “I know who you are just as well as you know who I am. If you don’t mind the fact that I’ll be away from Konoha a lot on dangerous missions, then I don’t mind your long working hours.”
Iruka pursed his lips, then looked down at his dorayaki.
“I don’t mind,” he said.
Kakashi smiled, then leaned over and kissed Iruka’s cheek. “Neither do I.”
