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Chapter Text

“That’s all from me,” Iruka lifted his eyes from the grade report he’d finished reading off, wrapping up his fifth student feedback report of the night. “Did you have any other questions about your daughter’s progress, Nakamura-san?” Iruka asked, gently closing the folder of Kanade’s information and handing it across the desk to her mother, who accepted it with both hands. 

“I did have one question,” she said, “It’s not about Kanade, but…” she tucked the folder into her bag and dug around for a moment before withdrawing a small photograph. “I wanted to tell you about the nice young man in this picture. He’s my cousin, Kotaro. A weaponsmith.” She wiggled her eyebrows conspiratorially. “He’s got a strong back and a lot of stamina, if you know what I mean.”

Iruka knew exactly what she meant. Face heating, he accepted the photo, sparing a quick glance down at it. He’d seen the man - Kotaro, apparently - around the village. He was tall and muscular, with wide shoulders and soft eyes. A rather unfortunate bit of facial hair, but Iruka wasn’t one to hold that against someone. Everyone had their idiosyncrasies. “I’m sure he’s very nice,” Iruka said weakly, tucking the picture into one of the drawers in his teaching desk. 

“Oh he is,” Nakamura-san insisted, leaning forward. “His contact information is on the back of the photo. If you’re interested.”

I’m very much not, but I suppose I appreciate the sentiment? Iruka thought tiredly, forcing a smile. “Thank you for your consideration,” he said. “As for Kanade-chan…?”

“Oh, she loves your class, and she’s been improving steadily, as you noted,” Nakamura-san said, finally taking her cue to leave. “Thank you for everything you do for her, Iruka-sensei.”

“Of course,” Iruka said, rising also and bowing politely. “It’s my honor to do so.” He held the bow as she crossed the room.

“Oh,” Nakamura-san paused at the door, “Just so you know, Kotaro’s usually only free on Sundays.” She turned and winked at Iruka. “But for you, I’m sure he could make an exception.”

“Ah,” Iruka said awkwardly, bowing again to avoid eye contact, “Yes. Thank you for the information.”

As soon as she was gone, Iruka flopped back into his chair and groaned loudly, covering his face with his hands. He still had another three days of parent-teacher conferences to look forward to, and that was his ninth proposition-by-proxy this week. What was it about being a single male teacher that made all of the village busybodies come out in droves? It didn’t make sense. Iruka wasn’t particularly clever or talented, and he certainly didn’t have much in the way of disposable income. So why had it come to this? He yanked open the desk drawer, staring forlornly down at the small mountain of photos residing there. He didn’t have the heart to throw any of them away, but at this point he was starting to run out of room for actual teaching aids in the drawer. Clearly, something had to be done about the situation. But what? 

Start dating? With what free time? Iruka was barely making ends meet with his punishing schedule as it was, he didn’t have time to date anyone. That’s why he was still single! He barely had time to take Naruto out for ramen between his missions, and woe to any man who thought Iruka would prioritize a date over spending time with the growing boy. 

But this was starting to get ridiculous, Iruka thought, shutting the drawer a bit more forcefully than was strictly necessary. No one had been so invested in his personal life when he’d been running missions. He paused, considering that for a moment, and decided that yes, it wasn’t just rosy hindsight. While his friends had given him some grief about being the perpetually single third-wheel, he hadn’t really been close enough to anyone else in the village to warrant that level of attention. So maybe it was more a problem of visibility? Iruka was almost always in the village these days - teaching, working the mission desk, taking Naruto for ramen… yes, the real problem here was that people were entirely too familiar with Iruka, so he bore the brunt of Konoha villagers’ well-meaning but excruciating attempts at matchmaking.

But how to get it to stop? He couldn’t even bear to throw out the useless photos, so telling them to their face that he didn’t have time for their matchmaking was out of the question. But he had equally little time to devote to deterring them! What he needed was something that would require very little effort, but would have significant enough visibility and impact to be both noted and respected by the villagers.

Packing up his supplies, Iruka considered his options. He could buy a fake engagement ring, but people were bound to start asking around about his mysterious fiancée. Worse yet, if it ever got out that the ring was a fake, he’d be back to square one, but instead of giggling it would be pitying stares and sympathetic hand-pats that accompanied the photos. It wasn’t that Iruka couldn’t get a date, and a fake ring might give the mistaken impression that Iruka thought he couldn’t get anyone without faking it. The issue here wasn’t a failure to get a date, but rather a lack of willingness to pursue the option. 

Could he get a fake boyfriend? Iruka immediately dismissed the idea. For one thing, he couldn’t afford an escort. And if anyone found out the boyfriend was fake, he’d be in the exact same position as he would be in with the fake ring - pity and hand-pats. No thank you.

Grumbling under his breath, Iruka gave the classroom a once-over, plucking a stray shuriken out of the wall and wiping the blackboards down one more time before letting himself out and shutting the door. He glanced at the hall clock and winced. It was late. By the time he managed to cook something, it would be too late to digest it properly. Besides, he had homework assignments to grade, and if he spent an hour or more buying ingredients and making an actual meal, he wouldn’t be getting to sleep until midnight. Then he would be getting up at six, rushing through breakfast and back at the Academy by seven to prep for classes. Ugh. 

Iruka decided he’d rather sleep an extra hour than go to the effort of preparing a healthy meal (especially since his healthy meals always ended up tasting terrible), so he headed in the direction of the nearest shop that offered carry-out meals. He picked up something with vegetables and a lean protein to feel like he was at least wasting money on healthy pre-prepared food. It was cheaper to cook his own, but at what cost? Iruka needed his sleep, especially with several more days of parent-teacher conferences looming in his future.

As he was waiting for his meal, he happened to glance outside and caught sight of Kakashi wandering by. Iruka immediately perked up, realizing that if the jonin-sensei was around then Naruto was probably somewhere in the village, too. Iruka hopped from one foot to the other, more anxious for his food to be ready. He really didn’t have time to go looking for Naruto tonight, but he wanted to see the boy. Maybe if he put off grading for one night, he could visit the kid. He could catch up on grading over the weekend. 

“Here’s your order, Iruka-sensei,” said Fujita-san, passing Iruka a wrapped bundle of delicious-smelling food. “Have a nice night.”

“Thank you!” Iruka beamed, rushing out into the night. By some stroke of luck, Kakashi was still out there. “Oh! Kakashi-san!” he called, hurrying over.

Kakashi, nose stuck in his usual reading material, lifted his head slowly, turning to Iruka. “Ah, Iruka-sensei. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Oh,” Iruka felt his cheeks heat as he realized how rude it probably seemed to jump straight to asking where’s Naruto? “Are you back from your mission?”

“Mm,” Kakashi made a noise of assent. “The kids did well.” 

“Oh, good! I’m glad to hear it. And you’re all fine?” Iruka looked Kakashi over, but he wasn’t really the sort to look injured, even if he was. Elite jonin like Kakashi didn’t get to that status by broadcasting their injuries. 

“Nary a scratch between us,” Kakashi said. “We just got back. I think Naruto might be looking for you, actually.” 

“Oh!” Iruka glanced down at his dinner. “I only bought enough for one person,” he frowned, then turned back to Kakashi and said, “Have you eaten yet?” 

Kakashi’s visible eye widened in surprise. “No,” he said slowly, “I haven’t.”

“Here,” Iruka pressed his dinner into Kakashi’s chest, “You take this, Naruto and I will find something for the two of us.”

Kakashi glanced down at the dinner, then back up to Iruka before carefully accepting the wrapped meal. “...thank you?” 

“Thank you,” Iruka countered. “Have a good evening, Kakashi-san.” Then, before the jonin could formulate a reply, he scampered off. 

The next morning Iruka dragged himself out of bed early so he could throw rice in a pot and toss some dry sardines in a pot of water. He managed to scrounge up some cabbage that had seen better days, chopped up some tofu, and was just throwing them into the fish-water when Naruto wandered into the kitchen, scrubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. 

“Morning, Iruka-sensei,” Naruto said, a bit too loudly for six in the morning, “Sorry I fell asleep here again last night. I was planning on going home, I promise.”

“I don’t mind if you sleep over, Naruto. That’s what the guest futon is for,” Iruka reassured him. “Are you hungry?”

“You’re cooking?” Naruto grinned widely. “What are you making?”

Iruka gestured at the simmering pot and then turned to dig in his fridge for the miso. He pulled it out and scooped up a large spoonful, gazed at it consideringly, and put about a third back. “Miso soup, rice, and I’ve got eggs in the fridge,” he said. “Nothing too fancy, I’m afraid.”

“Sounds great!” Naruto exclaimed. “Kakashi-sensei brings me breakfast like that sometimes. But he usually makes fish and vegetables too.”

Well good for him, Iruka thought, half sincere, half snide. I’m glad one of us knows how to cook.   He tasted the miso soup consideringly. It might have too much miso. Or not enough. Or was he supposed to take it off the heat before adding the miso? He didn’t remember. The rice pot wasn’t steaming anymore, and Iruka lifted the lid only to smell the distinct odor of scalding rice. “Oh!” he yelped, turning off the burner and staring at the rice, wondering if it had cooked through this time or if he would once more be having al dente rice for breakfast. He grabbed the spoon he’d used to taste the miso soup and took a small bite of rice. It tasted slightly burnt, but seemed soft enough. A little on the firm side, but certainly not the worst rice he’d ever made. 

Behind him, Naruto giggled. “Did you burn the rice again, Iruka-sensei?”

“That’s enough out of you,” Iruka groused. “I’ve told you before, the smoke adds flavor!” he scooped a large portion into a rice bowl, setting it down in front of Naruto before dishing up a second bowl for himself. Quite a bit of rice was stuck to the bottom of the pot. Lovely. He’d leave the pot to soak while he was at work, hopefully it would be washable by the time he got home. 

“Make sure you eat the cabbage, too,” Iruka warned, setting a bowl miso in front of Naruto. He moved back across the kitchen, plucking two small styrofoam containers and two eggs from his fridge. “And eat your natto, it’s good for you,” he added, plunking the little box down and setting the egg down beside it.

“You really need a new rice cooker, Iruka-sensei,” Naruto observed, ignoring the natto and cracking the egg over his rice, pouring a bit of soy sauce over it before vigorously stirring it in.

Iruka sighed, popping open his natto container and removing the thin paper covering the beans. He used his chopsticks to stir the fermented beans around before piling them atop his rice and cracking his own egg over them. “I’ll get one eventually. But this works fine, for now.”

“At least rice cookers don’t burn the rice,” Naruto pointed out. “I think that’s probably worth it, right?” 

Iruka shrugged. Rice cookers could get pretty spendy, and the ones at the secondhand shop had appeared to be on their last legs. He was saving up, of course, but he had other priorities. He could handle a bit of burnt rice. “You really should eat the natto,” he encouraged. 

“I tried it once, Iruka-sensei. I think it almost killed me,” Naruto said too-seriously. “I’m just not cut out for healthy food, I think.”

Iruka laughed before he could help it. “Oh, fine,” he shook his head. “Next time, then.” It was something of a joke between them by now - Iruka would give him natto, Naruto wouldn’t eat it, and the natto would go back into the fridge.  

The two of them ate in comfortable silence, and Naruto wordlessly gathered up the dishes, putting them in the sink before running some hot water. Iruka felt his eyebrows climb in surprise. “Oh?” he said, “What’s this?”

“You made breakfast, so I’ll wash the dishes,” Naruto declared. “Kakashi-sensei always makes me wash the dishes when he brings me food, so I’ve gotten pretty good at it,” he added, beaming with pride. 

“That’s very kind of you,” Iruka said, “I guess I’ll go get my things, then.” He hadn’t bothered unpacking his teaching satchel, but he still double-checked it to make sure he had everything he needed. That done, he wandered back into the kitchen, spotting Naruto attacking the rice pot.

“Oh, just let that one soak, I’ll get to it tonight,” he told Naruto. 

“Okay,” Naruto agreed cheerfully, setting it in the sink and following him to the door. They left together, Naruto not-so-surreptitiously sniffing his shirt. 

“If you feel you have to do a smell check, you should probably just shower and change,” Iruka chided. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Naruto waved him off. “It’s fine.” 

Iruka considered pressing the issue, but in the end, he decided it wasn’t worth the shouting. “Have a good day of training,” he said as Naruto drew to a halt at the corner of the street. 

Naruto beamed back at Iruka.  “You too, Iruka-sensei!”

Iruka waved him off with a smile, before picking up his pace and heading for the Academy. He had another long day ahead of him, and running late wasn’t going to make it any easier to get through.

“Thank you for always taking care of our boy,” Tsutsuji-san said, heading for the door, “And remember what I said about my friend Hiei,” she added with a small titter. “He’d definitely be interested.”

“Of course, Tsutsuji-san,” Iruka managed to say in a strangled voice, “Thank you for your consideration.”

“Oh you’re very welcome, Iruka-sensei,” Tsutsuji-san said. “Have a nice evening.”

“You too,” Iruka replied. As soon as she was gone he shoved the third photo of the night into his desk drawer. This had gone so far beyond ridiculous he wasn’t sure what word he could even use to describe it. Scowling, he straightened up the classroom, shoved some homework assignments in his bag, and matched out of the Academy in a huff. He had to find something to make this stop!

“Yo, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi called as he exited. The jonin was leaning casually against the Academy gates, age-inappropriate reading material in hand. Kakashi glanced up fully as Iruka approached, his eye widening as he took in Iruka’s appearance. “Rough day?” he asked, pushing off the gate and transitioning to a more vertical slouch. 

“You could say that,” Iruka sighed, then frowned in confusion. “Forgive my rudeness, Kakashi-san, but why are you here?” 

“Maa, I wanted to ask you if you had time to grab dinner sometime. Since you gave me dinner yesterday, I thought I might return the favor,” Kakashi explained. 

“Dinner?” Iruka repeated, frowning. “What, like tonight?” 

“Whenever you have time,” Kakashi clarified. 

“Oh. Uh. Sure, I’ll get back to you on that…” Iruka turned to leave, then paused, an idea forming in his mind. “Say, Kakashi-san?” 

“Yes?” Kakashi was still standing there with a vague expression on his face.

Iruka glanced around nervously to make sure no local busybodies were watching, then leaned in. “How would you feel about making that dinner a monthly arrangement? I’ll pay, of course!”

Kakashi’s eyebrow lifted in response. “Mind if I ask why?”

Iruka glanced around again. “Do you mind if we talk it over somewhere else?”

“Like over dinner?” Kakashi suggested, sounding faintly amused.

“Somewhere private,” Iruka specified. 

“Dinner at my place,” Kakashi amended.

“At your place?” Iruka echoed faintly.

“It’s pretty private,” Kakashi assured him. “Just me and the ninken.” 

“Okay,” Iruka agreed. “When?”

“We can go now,” Kakashi suggested. “I have all the ingredients at home already, we just need to eat them.” 

“You bought enough for two?” Iruka asked faintly, not sure how this conversation had gone from maybe a dinner sometime to a home-cooked meal at the copy-nin’s house.

“I usually take some leftovers to Naruto,” Kakashi explained. “He never eats vegetables when left to his own devices.” 

Iruka laughed at that. “True enough,” he noted with amusement. 

“So it’s decided. You can tell me more about whatever it is you can’t discuss publicly over dinner,” Kakashi gazed at Iruka for confirmation.

“Sure,” Iruka agreed, mentally apologizing to his future self for the pile of grading he’d be doing this weekend. “Sounds great.”

Nodding, Kakashi turned and began wandering off, heading into the village. It was at this point Iruka realized he had no idea where Kakashi’s house was. Well. If Kakashi was going to agree to Iruka’s harebrained scheme, perhaps it was a good idea to know where the man lived.

It didn’t take them long to reach their destination. It turned out Kakashi had a modest one-bedroom apartment with a wide living room and a cozy kitchen and dining area. Kakashi pulled out a small induction burner, setting it on the table, carrying over a large pot a moment later. It was packed full of vegetables, tofu, shirataki noodles and beef. “Hope you like sukiyaki,” Kakashi said, pouring a thick sweet dashi broth over the ingredients.

“Are you kidding? I haven’t had beef for two weeks!” Iruka exclaimed, probably more excited than he should have been, but beef was expensive and he was starving. “This looks amazing, Kakashi-san!”

Kakashi scrubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, a blush rising on his visible cheek. “Maa, sensei, it's just a bit of chopping vegetables.”

“Yeah, well, considering I don’t even do that half the time, I’m impressed!” Iruka grinned at Kakashi, unable to contain his excitement. 

Kakashi set a small bowl in front of him with an egg, then carried over a steaming bowl of rice for each of them before settling down at the other table setting. “So,” he began, cracking his own egg into the bowl and lightly scrambling it, “What did you want to ask about that you couldn’t bring up in public?” 

“Well,” Iruka began, cracking his own egg, “Lately I keep having well-meaning people trying to set me up on dates, and honestly it’s starting to get on my nerves.” 

Kakashi hummed sympathetically to show he was listening, then adjusted the temperature on the burner to bring up the temperature of the sukiyaki broth. 

“So I was thinking,” Iruka continued, picking up the provided chopsticks and attacking the egg with a bit more ferocity than was probably warranted, “Maybe I should just… pretend to date someone? Just to stop the nagging.”

Kakashi turned from the sukiyaki to gaze at Iruka. “Oh? Were you planning to ask me out on a fake date, then?”

“Here’s the thing,” Iruka said, finally setting down his chopsticks to look Kakashi in the eye, “I have no time for dating. It’s why I’m not dating anyone currently. So I really don’t have the energy to spare for faking it, either.”

“Hmm,” Kakashi made a thoughtful noise. “Sounds difficult.”

“It is,” Iruka agreed. “And then, you offered dinner, and I thought maybe…” He tried to think of how to explain his thoughts in a nice (or at least nice-ish?) manner. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but… if I were going to only go on sporadic dates with someone, it would have to be someone who’s… also sporadic?” He grimaced, realizing that maybe this wasn’t the most diplomatic approach. 

“Ah,” Kakashi said, digging into the sukiyaki with his chopsticks, checking the doneness of the meat. “So you don’t want to go on dates, but you still want to pretend you’re dating.”

“Exactly,” Iruka exclaimed, pointing at Kakashi excitedly. “I need someone… low effort? Who wouldn’t care if we only went out, say, once a month. Or less, even. Less than that would be ideal.”

“I see,” Kakashi grabbed Iruka’s plate, plopping some beef on it. “Here,” he handed it back before serving himself as well. “So you want us to go on fake dates, but not very often. What am I getting from this arrangement?”

“Oh,” Iruka realized he’d not really thought that far ahead. “Well. I’m really busy, so I can’t offer much. I can, uh… buy you dinner once a month? Or maybe less than once a month?” Iruka offered, smiling weakly as he dipped the beef into his raw egg before dropping it onto his rice and shoveling it into his mouth. Oh. The rice was perfectly tender, the broth was just the right balance of sweet and salty, and the thinly sliced beef was melting with marbled fat. “Oh wow,” he moaned. “Maybe you don’t need to eat out, this is so good.”  

Kakashi snorted in amusement. His own beef had vanished, though his mask was still in place. 

Iruka averted his gaze out of courtesy before continuing. “So. Uh. What do you want from me, then?”

“Eh,” Kakashi said, serving himself some of the vegetables. “I don’t really need anything. But this sounds interesting, so I’ll do it.”

“You’ll pretend to be my boyfriend and you don’t want anything in return?” Iruka asked, surprised to have gotten Kakashi to agree so quickly. He’d thought the jonin would at least ask for something from him, but Kakashi seemed remarkably easy to please. Then again, that had been the whole reason Iruka had asked him in the first place - he wanted someone low-effort. 

“If I think of something, I’ll let you know,” Kakashi said. “Now eat, the sukiyaki’s not going to finish itself.”

It wasn’t until Iruka got home late in the evening that he realized he and Kakashi had never decided when their first official “date” was to take place. Oh well, he thought, dumping the pile of grading out on his kotatsu with a heavy sigh, surely they’d be able to discuss it soon enough. For now, he had homework to grade.

“Oh, hey Iruka-sensei!” Naruto called from the kitchen. “Welcome home!” he poked his head out to gaze at Iruka curiously. “You were out late.”

Urk. “Yes,” Iruka answered awkwardly, “I was having dinner with Kakashi-san.”

“Oh really?” Naruto asked, wandering out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Why didn’t you invite me?”

“It was rather last-minute,” Iruka admitted. 

“Oh,” Naruto said. “Okay. Cool.”

“Why are you here?” Iruka finally asked. 

“I came to wash the pot from this morning,” Naruto replied, “and then I ate some of the food in your fridge, so I had to wash my plate after that. Did you know you don’t have any instant ramen in your kitchen?”

“Yes,” Iruka replied with an amused snort. “There’s a reason for that. It’s not healthy.”

“It’s a lot easier than cooking, though,” Naruto grumbled. “So what did you have for dinner with Kakashi-sensei?”

“We had sukiyaki,” Iruka replied, settling down on a cushion and pulling out one of the homework papers. “Did you eat the rest of the rice from this morning?”

Naruto laughed. “No, actually I just ate some fried eggs.”

“That’s not enough for dinner!” Iruka protested. “You should have eaten more than that.”

“It’s fine,” Naruto assured him, “I had a big lunch.”

Iruka gave him a look, but Naruto didn’t flinch, so he must have meant it. “All right,” Iruka finally said, “But if you get hungry…”

“I know, I know, I just have to tell you.” Naruto flopped down on the other side of the kotatsu, wrinkling his nose as he eyed the homework spread across the table. “Oh, this stuff? Gross.”

“Hey, that’s my occupation you’re calling gross,” Iruka protested, setting his pen down momentarily to shoot a scowl in Naruto’s direction.

“Yeah, but homework sucks,” Naruto said. “I bet you didn’t like it when you were a kid, either.”

“Immaterial,” Iruka replied, “It’s important to make sure all the students understand the coursework and have a firm grasp on what we’re learning in class.”

“Oh sure, but important doesn’t mean it’s not boring,” Naruto shot back, grinning and ducking under Iruka’s half-hearted swipe at him. 

“If you’re just going to be a pest…” Iruka warned.

“I’ll be good!” Naruto promised, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I just… didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

“You’re always welcome to stay with me,” Iruka said, lifting his eyes to make sure Naruto saw he was serious. “You know that, right?”

“I do,” Naruto admitted, shuffling around so that most of his body was hidden under the kotatsu quilt, tucking it up under his chin and grinning at Iruka. “It’s just nice to hear it, sometimes.”

Iruka smiled. “Then I’ll say it as many times as you need.”

The next morning Iruka dragged himself out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Rather than make rice, he had a vague inkling that maybe toast and soup would be good enough for the day. He dug some corn potage out of the fridge and had it heating on the stove, shoving the toast in the toaster. He scrounged through the fridge, finding a few tomatoes which he sliced up and sprinkled with a little salt and pepper. He dished up the sliced tomatoes, tossed the toast onto plates, and poured two bowls of the corn soup just as Naruto wandered into the kitchen. 

“Toast for breakfast, huh?” Naruto commented sleepily. “And tomatoes?” 

“And corn soup,” Iruka added. “I just heated it up on the stove.”

“Looks great,” Naruto commented, sitting down at the table and clapping his hands together. “Let’s eat.”

“Let‘s eat,” Iruka echoed, then dug in. The tomatoes were… oversalted. But still mostly edible if you ate them with the toast. The soup was fine, at least. 

“Thanks for the meal!” Naruto exclaimed after practically inhaling his breakfast. “I’ll wash the dishes.” 

“Thanks for the meal,” Iruka mumbled as he finished his own breakfast, then wandered back into the living room to pack his school bag. 

He and Naruto left together not too long after that, parting ways at the same corner as yesterday. Iruka trudged the rest of the way to the Academy, already exhausted. Just one more day of parent-teacher conferences, he reminded himself. Then he had a whole weekend… of double shifts at the mission desk. And all the grading he hadn’t finished yet. Iruka groaned. 

“Yo, Iruka-sensei!” 

Iruka blinked, not sure he was seeing things right. “Kakashi-san?” he said, spotting the jonin casually leaning against the Academy gates, drawing confused looks from passing staff members.

“Please, it’s just Kakashi,” he said, moving away from the gate and walking over to Iruka. “We’re dating, after all.”

“Right,” Iruka said, feeling off-center and a bit confused. “Did we… have something scheduled?”

“Nope!” Kakashi replied cheerily, then lifted a thermos. “But you looked tired after last night’s dinner, so I thought I’d bring you some of my favorite coffee.”

Iruka hadn’t gotten around to the grocery store to buy more of his own coffee, and the swill in the teacher’s lounge could double as paint-thinner. Coffee sounded marvelous, though he still felt a little confused . He stared at the thermos in Kakashi’s grasp, struggling to formulate a response. “But...why?”

Kakashi pressed the thermos into his hands. “Just a thoughtful gesture from your boyfriend, that’s all.”

“I can’t accept this,” Iruka protested, his hands closing around the thermos anyway. “I already told you, I don’t have a lot of time - ”

“It’s fine,” Kakashi assured him, taking a step back and lifting his hands. “I already made the coffee, so you might as well drink it.”

“True…” Iruka glanced down at the thermos with a sigh. He decided that he could accept this one gesture, so long as he impressed upon Kakashi that this sort of behavior couldn’t become a habitual thing. Iruka just didn’t have the energy to reciprocate, and he didn’t want it to look like Kakashi was putting all the work into the relationship. “Thank you,” he said, lifting his head to face the jonin, “I appre - ”

Kakashi was gone.

Sighing exasperatedly, Iruka waved the thermos in the air. “I appreciate it!” he shouted, just in case the man was still hanging around. He supposed that popping in with random gifts and then vanishing was to be expected when ‘dating’ someone as eccentric as Kakashi. He still felt bad, though. He’d specifically asked Kakashi to do this because he hadn’t wanted to go to much effort. If Kakashi was going to do his best to sell the relationship, it would look pretty bad if Iruka wasn’t doing his best, too. 

With a groan, Iruka stared down at the thermos of coffee. This was going to be more work than he’d bargained for.

Chapter Text

Surprisingly, Iruka got no courtship offers from the village busybodies at his last evening of parent-teacher conferences. He did get a few concerned comments about his personal life, but they were all vague enough that Iruka couldn’t be sure if they were related to an assumed lack of romantic attachments, if word had gotten around about Kakashi, or if it was just general advice on an awkward topic. In any case, it was better than the matchmaking he’d been enduring the past few days, so he wasn’t going to question it overmuch. As he cheerfully straightened up his classroom, he considered what to do for dinner. The air was starting to grow chill, so something warm and hearty would be nice. Some sort of hotpot, maybe? Maybe with some chicken, since it was reaching the end of the month and his spending money was getting pretty thin at the moment. 

Slinging his school satchel over one shoulder, Iruka remembered to grab Kakashi’s thermos. He’d washed it in the staff room between classes and parent conferences. Would it be weird to take the thermos over to Kakashi’s apartment to return it? It was on his way to the market and he needed to buy food anyway, so - 

“How was the coffee, Iruka-sensei?” Came a smooth voice from behind the shell of his right ear.

Iruka barely managed to keep from leaping from his skin, stiffening and drawing his breath through his teeth in a sharp hiss. He whirled around to face Kakashi, who didn’t seem to find it at all concerning that he’d startled a fellow shinobi. He was lucky Iruka wasn’t the “stab first, ask questions later” sort!

“I wasn’t sure if you liked dark roasts or not,” Kakashi continued, barely noticing the glare Iruka leveled in his direction, “but that’s what I usually drink, so it’s all I had on hand.”

“You scared me!” Iruka snapped. “I could have stabbed you!” 

“Unlikely,” Kakashi replied mildly, “besides, you didn’t, so hypotheticals are rather a moot point by now, wouldn’t you say?” 

“That’s not the point!” Iruka threw up his hands, exasperated. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people!”

Kakashi shrugged noncommittally, gesturing to the thermos poking out of Iruka’s bag. “The coffee?”

“Right,” Iruka shook his head, refocusing, though he still wasn’t sure who had won that particular argument. Perhaps it was a stalemate? “I like dark roasts too. It was really good, actually. Where’d you get it?”

“Ah, there’s actually a small-batch roaster near my apartment,” Kakashi admitted, scratching at the back of his neck and avoiding Iruka’s gaze. “I usually buy from him.”

“Oh,” Iruka glanced down at the thermos, tugging it from his bag and handing it to Kakashi. “Sounds expensive.”

“Maa, I don’t drink much coffee,” Kakashi said, accepting the thermos, “But when I do, I want it to be good.”

“Fair enough,” Iruka said, “I’m something of a caffeine addict at this point-” he paused, considering that. “Oof. I should probably wean myself off of it before I go back on active duty for the summer,” he said, making a mental note of that. “Don’t want to be popping caffeine pills in the field to fight off withdrawal headaches.”

“Hmm,” Kakashi made a noise of agreement. 

Iruka started walking once more and Kakashi fell into step beside him. The two of them continued for several seconds before Iruka broke the silence once more. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, “but why are you still here?”

“Ah,” Kakashi scuffed his feet slightly, still walking beside Iruka, “I was wondering if you had dinner plans, actually.”

Iruka blinked. “…why?” he asked, trying to inject as much danger into his tone as possible.

It seemed to work, because Kakashi seemed to shrink into himself slightly before answering. “I thought we could grab dinner somewhere. You know, a first official date? It is Friday night.”

Iruka groaned. Kakashi was right, but Iruka didn’t want him to be. “What kind of dinner?” He was in his uniform, and he did not have time to try and put effort into nicer clothes. Then again, Kakashi was in his jonin uniform, too. So maybe it was a more casual dinner? That sounded manageable, at least.

“It’s starting to get cold these days,” Kakashi noted. “I thought it might be nice to eat hotpot. Or do you prefer ramen?”

“I had Ramen with Naruto two days ago,” Iruka said. “Hotpot sounds good.” He mentally calculated his remaining funds for the month. They’d have to choose someplace cheap if he wanted to eat something besides tofu and rice for the rest of the month, but Kakashi was right, if they were going to make this look real, they did need to be seen going out together at some point. 

“I know a place we can go for hotpot,” Kakshi said, completely wrecking Iruka’s plans to save money in a single sentence. “They make the best mizutaki.”

Chicken hotpot did sound good, though. And Iruka had eaten Kakashi’s beef sukiyaki yesterday, so something light would be a nice change from the heavy richness of yesterday’s dinner. “Lead the way,” Iruka said, forcing a smile, trying not to think about how the rest of his month was going to be full of food that was even lighter than mizutaki. He’d lived on rice and tofu before, he could do it again. Maybe if he looked hard he could find some bruised produce at the market and haggle the shopkeepers down a bit. But that was another worry for another day, Iruka told himself, following Kakashi off the main street and into a narrow, winding alley. They eventually emerged in one of the historic districts, full of old wooden buildings built along a narrow cobblestone street. Warm lantern light spilled out of open doors and glowed bright against pristine shoji screens. Every building seemed infused with serenity. There were small moss gardens with gorgeous wooden decks for people to sit on and enjoy nature as they ate. There were stone lanterns, carefully arranged rocks, perfectly trimmed trees and soft bubbling water features emptying into koi ponds. In other words, the whole area practically screamed money. Iruka began mentally tallying how many ryo he had in his purse. Did he even have enough on him to buy food in a place like this? He didn’t think he did. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten at any of these restaurants,” Iruka said nervously, not sure how else to broach the topic of how he absolutely could not afford this place.

“Is that so?” Kakashi replied, sounding vaguely interested. “I come here pretty often, actually. The place I mentioned is just through here,” Kakashi instructed, ducking under a dark blue noren curtain and pulling Iruka into the entryway of one of the old wooden buildings, shedding his sandals at the door and making use of a complimentary pair of slippers before stepping onto the interior step and gently sliding open the wooden door. He poked his head inside the restaurant. “Evening, Miura-san” he called.

“Kakashi!” Came a boisterous voice from inside. “It’s been awhile! Come in!”

“I brought someone with me,” Kakashi added, tugging Iruka up beside him. “Iruka-sensei. From the Academy.”

“Oh-ho!” Miura-san waved at Iruka from behind the counter. He was an older gentleman with a stern-looking face, but his voice was warm as he greeted the two of them. “Well don’t just stand there, come on in!”

Kakashi walked in, Iruka shedding his own sandals in favor of slippers before trailing after him. The restaurant was narrow, but long. There were a few tall tables and chairs in the entry leading up to the kitchen, but the majority of the restaurant was furnished with low tables and cushions set around them. Kakashi moved to a corner table near the back of the restaurant, passing several tables full of customers who were deep in their drinks. Iruka tried not to wrinkle his nose at the smell of cigarette smoke wafting from one table in particular. When they reached the corner table, Kakashi immediately propped open one of the windows, clearing the air in their corner, at least. The fact that this also gave them a nice view of the garden outside, illuminated by moonlight and the flickering light of candles in stone lanterns, definitely didn’t hurt.

Admiring the place, Iruka looked around the rustic interior, sinking down onto a cushion across the table from Kakashi. “So you’re a regular customer here?” Iruka asked. 

Kakashi nodded. “Not so much anymore, but for awhile this was one of my usual haunts.”

Iruka glanced around the restaurant again, but he couldn’t imagine Kakashi spending much time in such a warm, inviting space. It didn’t fit the air of mystery that most people seemed to associate with him. Then again, the more he got to know the enigmatic jonin, the less mysterious he seemed to be. He was just another eccentric elite ninja, really. At this point, Iruka thought with some exasperation, it would almost be more strange to meet a high-level ninja who was actually well-adjusted and normal. “I see,” Iruka said. “It seems nice.”

“It is,” Kakashi agreed, “but I mostly come because Miura-san is discreet. And the food is phenomenal.”

Iruka glanced down at the menu and swallowed hard. Hopefully it would be good enough to make him forget the price. He cautiously pried open the menu, glancing over the offerings before Kakashi laid his hand over the menu. 

“Don’t bother,” he said. “We’re getting mizutaki, remember?”

“But that’s not even on the menu,” Iruka protested, eyeing the food listed once more, just to double-check. 

“Miura-san makes the best mizutaki,” Kakashi insisted. “Though go ahead and look through the drinks, if you want something besides tea.”

Iruka stared at the menu. The food listed wasn’t expensive per se, but it was certainly more than he’d usually pay for dinner. Then again, anything that cost more than 120 ryo was expensive to him, and really, dinners around 350 ryo wasn’t an outrageous asking price. Still. Iruka considered his money and grimaced slightly. He had no idea how much this Miura-san would charge for a special order. It could cost upwards of 500 ryo. Swallowing hard, he turned the page to look at the drinks, which were actually quite reasonably priced. But he didn’t know if he had enough in his purse for the dinner, let alone drinks. But this was the date he’d asked Kakashi to go on, and Kakashi was doing him this favor, even if it was short notice. “Did you want anything to drink?” Iruka asked, looking up from the menu.

“Tea is fine,” Kakashi said.

Iruka fought not to slump in relief. “Right. Good. Me too.”

Right about this time, the older gentleman - Miura-san - bustled over, small notebook in one hand, pot of tea in the other. “Welcome!” he greeted, taking one of the cups at the table and pouring tea for Iruka first, and then Kakashi. “Can I get you started with anything to drink?”

“Just tea for us,” Kakashi said smoothly.  

“Excellent,” Miura-san said, “Well then, what will you be having this evening?”

“Mizutaki,” Kakashi said. “Gozen set, please.”

“And for you?” Miura-san asked, turning to look at Iruka.

“I’ll have the same,” Iruka said weakly, deferring to Kakashi’s knowledge, somewhat surprised that Miura-san didn’t seem at all perturbed by Kakashi ordering off-menu. 

“Excellent! I’ll have those out to you in a bit,” the man assured them, bustling back into the kitchen. 

Iruka leaned back. “I’m amazed he let you order off-menu,” he commented.

“Ah, Miura-san and I go way back,” Kakashi said with a shrug. “He hired my genin team for a D-rank way back in the day.”

Iruka felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. “Really? He’s been here that long?”

Kakashi nodded, turning and glancing out the window at the small garden outside. “This area wasn’t quite as damaged during the Kyuubi attack,” he said, “so most of the businesses around here are still the original structures.” 

Iruka nodded, thinking of the district where his childhood home had been. The whole area had been practically razed to the ground. “I’m glad to hear that,”  he said, not begrudging the man his good fortune. “He seems like a nice person.”

“He is,” Kakashi agreed, turning back from the garden to gaze at Iruka, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his visible eye. “Much nicer than me.”

Iruka bit back a smart remark and instead just nodded. “So he lets you order whatever you want because you’re a long-standing customer?”

“No,” Kakashi said, “he’s got an, ah, secret menu of sorts. Not everyone knows it.”

Iruka felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. “So how do you know about it?”

Kakashi’s eye crinkled into a full grin. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Iruka huffed in irritation. “Fine then. Keep your secrets,” he said, picking up his teacup and sipping cautiously at the hot beverage. It was nothing special, but nice, and after a long evening of parent-teacher conferences, the hot tea was soothing to his worn throat.

Kakashi leaned back slightly, gazing at Iruka. “How was work?” he asked. “The kids behave?”

Iruka snorted. “When do they ever?” he asked rhetorically. 

“Fair enough,” Kakashi replied.

“And your genin team?” Iruka asked. “They did well today?”

“ Well is a… relative term,” Kakashi replied with a slight wince. “But they all survived and none of them ended up in the hospital. So. I’d consider their training a success, at least.”

Iruka snorted in amusement. “I suppose that’s a valid assessment,” he noted, thinking of how many times he’d truly be able to say Naruto did well at something. If he were honest with himself, just having a successful training exercise was something of an achievement when it came to the boy. 

Just then, Miura-san arrived with a tray of food, which he set down in front of Kakashi.

“Thank you,” Kakashi murmured with a bow of his head. 

Iruka stared at Kakashi’s tray, taking in the fantastic spread with wide-eyed wonder. The tray held a wide array of carefully selected side dishes in tiny bowls, a small dish with a dollop of fragrant yuzu-kosho and a bowl of ponzu with freshly sliced green onions for dipping, a thick broth to add to the soup at the end of the meal, and a heaping bowl of white rice. The hotpot itself was loaded with chicken and vegetables and topped with a pile of fresh-chopped mizuna. The scent of perfectly-cooked chicken wafted up from the small pot, easily reaching Iruka. His mouth began to water as he stared down at the meal in amazement. 

A moment later, Miura-san was back with an identical-looking tray, which he set down in front of Iruka. 

“Thank you,” Iruka said emphatically, staring down at his own tray. It looked amazing.  

“Well? Dig in,” Kakashi urged, before dipping into his own hotpot with relish. 

Not wanting to make things harder on Kakashi, Iruka dropped his gaze to his tray and focused on eating. It was even better than it looked. The chicken, while light, had imparted a subtle richness to the broth as it cooked, and the ponzu paired perfectly with it. He added a bit of yuzu-kosho, and was surprised to find it wasn’t too salty or spicy. It was fragrant and every bit as well-balanced as the rest of the food. 

“You were right,” he said, “this is definitely the best mizutaki I’ve ever eaten.”

“Anything Miura-san makes is delicious,” Kakashi agreed, “but his mizutaki is my favorite.”

Almost too quickly, Iruka finished the meal, adding the extra soup to the broth at the end and drinking it down gratefully. It was so good. He was so full, he could fall asleep right there at the table and not wake up again until the weekend was over. “Wow,” he said, finally. “That was… incredible.”

Kakashi smiled at him. At least, Iruka thought he smiled. His eye crinkled in a way that seemed pleased, anyway. “I’m glad,” he said. “Thank you for letting me bring you here.”

“Right,” Iruka said, “I mean, you’re doing me a huge favor, so it’s really the least I could do.” He fought back a grimace, fumbling for his coin purse before reaching for the bill that Miura-san had placed face-down at the end of the table. Before he could grab it, Kakashi’s hand covered the paper, and he picked it up.

“Maa, sensei, this dinner was my idea, I think it’s only fair that it’s my treat,” Kakashi said. “You can pay when you choose the restaurant.”

Iruka instantly wished he’d known that Kakashi was going to pay before they’d started eating. Even though he’d thoroughly enjoyed the food, he felt as though he would have enjoyed it more if he hadn’t thought it would be the last good food he’d be eating this month. “I can’t let you do that,” he protested, “I’m the one who asked you to. You know.”

“Be your boyfriend?” Kakashi replied in a teasing tone. “It’s fine, like I said, I chose the restaurant so I’ll pay. You can choose the next place.”

“The next place,” Iruka echoed. “So… next month, then?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Whenever we both have time might be a better option. With my schedule being what it is, trying to plan for specific days or times is a challenge.”

That was a fair point, Iruka realized. Missions could go long, so it was probably more reasonable to just go out whenever they were both available, rather than trying to choose a specific day and rigorously maintain that schedule. “That makes sense. Are you going to be heading out in the next few days, then?”

“I’m not sure,” Kakashi said, “but my team and I will probably be picking up a new mission pretty soon. So if you figure out a place to go before we leave, let’s go. If you don’t think of anywhere, then we’ll try for when we get back.”

Iruka nodded thoughtfully. “I have a pretty busy weekend ahead, so I probably won’t have much time to think about it until next week at the earliest.”

“Maa, don’t worry about it too much,” Kakashi said, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll get around to dinner again eventually, I’m sure.”

Iruka nodded. “Sure.” He gazed at the bill in Kakashi’s hand. “You’re sure you don’t want me to pay for dinner?”

“Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi chided, “I told you it’s my treat. Don’t make me say it again.”

Iruka nodded sharply. “Right. Well then, the next one will be my treat.”

Kakashi’s eye crinkled up in a smile again. “I look forward to it.”

Iruka dragged himself out of bed the next morning after spending far too many hours grading the night before. He practically sleepwalked through his morning routine, chugged tea that he’d brewed with triple bags for the caffeine boost even though it made the liquid so bitter it was barely palatable. Absently, he wished Kakashi would bring him more of that coffee from the previous day - it had really been perfect. Then he remembered he was supposed to be weaning himself off of caffeine and groaned. How was he supposed to remember things without his morning caffeine?

…this was why he needed to cut back, he told himself sternly, tugging on his sandals and jogging across the village, heading for his shift at the mission desk. Upon his arrival, there was already a line, which really didn’t bode well for his day. He relieved Aika-san, who looked more than a little frazzled and grateful to be leaving. She had only worked a single shift. Iruka mentally steeled himself for what was shaping up to be a terrible double shift, and called the next shinobi in line. “Next, please.”

What followed was a frankly dizzying number of shinobi coming in and either receiving missions from Iruka or handing over mission reports, which Iruka would then scour for discrepancies or errors, either handing them back to be redone, or filing them appropriately. It wasn’t really difficult work, in a physical sense, but it required a lot of attention to detail, and that got exhausting on too few hours of sleep. By the time he was several hours into his second shift, Iruka could feel himself flagging. It was taking him longer to look over scrolls, to the point that the chunin waiting for him to finish began tapping her foot impatiently. 

“Is my report really that interesting?” she griped, “Or are you just illiterate?”

Iruka clenched his teeth to remind himself to hold his tongue, carefully rolling up the scroll and scribbling out a small intake notice, stamping it with the mission desk seal and handing it to her. “Thank you for your service,” he said mildly, resisting the urge to add something unkind to the end of his statement. 

“Yeah, whatever,” she grumbled. “Took you long enough.”

Iruka was half-tempted to lunge back across the desk and take the notice back so she wouldn’t be able to receive her payment for the completed mission. “Next please,” he called, but the woman was still staring at him. Why?

The next person in line came to stand beside her, giving her a baffled look before slowly handing their mission scroll to Iruka.

Iruka accepted the scroll and was just beginning to skim it when the chunin from before cleared her throat. 

“I think you should apologize.”

Iruka slowly rolled the scroll closed again, lifting his gaze. “Excuse me?”

“I think you should apologize. For wasting my time.”

“The only one wasting time right now is you,” Iruka pointed out, and unrolled the mission scroll he’d been given once more. “Move along.” 

“Not until you apologize,” she said stubbornly, folding her arms.

If it was a battle of wills she was looking for, Iruka could handle that any day. He ignored her, skimming through the report and finding two discrepancies. “You missed this section here,” he told the jonin, who was glancing between Iruka and the chunin with an amused look on his face. “And this section here was filled out with the wrong information. It’s switched with this space, see?”

The jonin leaned over, noting the places Iruka indicated. “Oh. Okay, I’ll go ahead and fix that real quick. Mind if I do it here at the desk?”

“If you do it here, everyone will,” Iruka said apologetically. “You’ll have to step out of line and then come back through once you’ve made the necessary corrections.”

The jonin sighed. “Right. Well, I guess that’ll help me remember not to do that next time, huh?”

“One can only hope,” Iruka replied wryly, thinking of far too many jonin who still hadn’t learned how to fill out a mission scroll no matter how many times Iruka sent them to the back of the line. “Next, please.”

Speaking of jonin who hadn’t learned how to fill out a mission scroll… “Good afternoon, Iruka-sensei.” Kakashi said, glancing between him and the chunin woman who was still standing in front of the desk with her arms folded. “Is something wrong?” he asked the woman after a long moment.

“I’m not leaving until he apologizes,” the woman said, not even sparing Kakashi a glance as she continued glaring at Iruka.

“Apologize?” Kakashi turned to look at Iruka, his visible eyebrow climbing to meet his hitai-ate. “What does he need to apologize for?”

“Taking too long,” the woman replied.

“Well now that just sounds totally unreasonable,” Kakashi said, fishing a scroll out of his vest and handing it to Iruka. “They made me rewrite the one from yesterday,” he explained. “This one should be good, though.”

Iruka wasn’t holding out much hope of that, but maybe he was lucky and Kakashi had let his genin students fill out the form instead. Sakura, at least, knew how to follow directions and fill in the blanks with the proper information. Naruto would be about as effective at paperwork as Kakashi, though, so it was really not looking great for Iruka. He unrolled the scroll, reading through. Surprisingly, it was filled out correctly. A bit awkwardly worded here or there, but clear enough to be considered useful intel. Even more surprisingly, it was written in Kakashi’s handwriting. 

“Will wonders never cease,” Iruka murmured, scribbling out the small receipt and stamping it so that Kakashi could present it to the treasurer for the D-rank mission payment. “Thank you for your service.”

“Ah, also…” Kakashi scrubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Would you like a new mission?” Iruka asked.

“No, actually, I just brought you some coffee. Since you have a double shift,” Kakashi explained, lifting up the same thermos from before. “I thought you might be running low.” He indicated Iruka’s own thermos, which had actually contained tea, and had been drained dry probably three hours ago. 

“Actually, coffee would be great,” Iruka admitted, feeling his face heat as he realized the eyes of nearly every person in the room had zeroed in on their conversation around the time Kakashi had whipped out the jug of coffee. “Thank… you…?”

“You’re welcome,” Kakashi plunked the thermos on the desk next to Iruka’s empty tea thermos. “Have a nice day.” 

Suddenly, Iruka didn’t much mind the fact that the chunin was still standing in front of his desk, glaring at him. She could stand there all day, for all he cared. He had coffee, and Kakashi had actually turned in a legible mission report! It would take something a lot worse than a demanding chunin to ruin his day at this point. Ignoring her glare, Iruka glanced up to meet the gaze of the next person in line.

“Next, please!”

The next week felt incredibly strange to Iruka. It seemed like Kakashi kept popping up everywhere he went, bringing him coffee, a homemade lunch when he’d forgotten to pack his own (and Iruka didn’t want to know how Kakashi knew he’d forgotten his lunch, he just wrote it off as more elite jonin stalker tendencies and resolved not to think about it), news about Naruto’s progress… Admittedly, the last one may not have been intended as an overt romantic gesture to draw the attention of the village (and Iruka was incredibly grateful to Kakashi for being attentive without forcing Iruka to do something he was truly uncomfortable with), but it was probably the gesture that meant the most to Iruka. Naruto stopped by from time to time, of course, but his own reports on his training were, ah, biased. So it was good to hear that Kakashi really was impressed with Naruto’s improvement. 

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), the gestures definitely didn’t go unnoticed. Before long, Iruka had some of his fellow teachers pulling him aside, asking him if he was “all right” and whether he was “sure about that man” (which honestly was just rude, both questioning Iruka’s judgement and insinuating that Kakashi was somehow untrustworthy in a single sentence). Some of the parents gave Iruka odd looks when they came to collect their children, though none had said anything specific just yet. The first real confrontation turned out to be Naruto, who showed up on Iruka’s doorstep an hour after dinner, right around the time Iruka was prepared to pull out his hair while reading through pre-genin essays on the 5 essential items every shinobi needed in their survival kit (and no, those items did not include ‘snacks’ or ‘comic books’ or ‘instant noodles’).

“Iruka-sensei!” Naruto cried, barging in without even knocking. This was his own fault, really. Iruka had added him to the wards long ago, so it’s not like this was a new problem, except for the sharp red mark Iruka left on one of the essays in a place where it didn’t need to be.

“Naruto?” Iruka set his pen aside and glanced up at the boy, who had kicked off his shoes and was marching across the room.

“Are you really dating that pervert?” Naruto demanded, throwing his hands in the air. “Why? What’s so great about him anyway?”

Iruka sighed, realizing he should have seen this coming. Once the village knew, it was inevitable that Naruto would hear about it eventually. Patting the kotatsu, Iruka indicated that Naruto should take a seat. Fortunately, Naruto seemed inclined to cooperate, throwing himself down on one of the floor cushions and leaning forward to stare at Iruka. 

“It’s not serious,” Iruka said carefully. Naruto wasn’t exactly discreet, so he didn’t want to explicitly tell Naruto that the whole thing was a sham. But he also hated lying to the boy. “But… I would like it if people thought it was serious.”

Naruto frowned. “Why would you want people to think you were serious about a pervert like Kakashi-sensei?”

“I thought you liked Kakashi-san!” Iruka protested.

“He’s a good teacher, but I don’t know if he’s good enough for you,” Naruto pronounced seriously. “And he’s a pervert. You gotta be careful around him.”

Iruka wasn’t sure how to explain to Naruto that there were a lot worse things a person could be than a public porn-reader, but he also tended to agree that Kakashi’s public persona didn’t do him any favors. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. “Was that all?”

“I’ll talk to him,” Naruto said firmly, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “He’s good to you, right?”

Iruka blinked, considering the question for the first time, and felt his face heating. “Actually? Yes. Better than I’m being, I think,” he added, embarrassed to admit that he wasn’t really doing much to contribute to the farce. Most of the effort to make this look real was coming from Kakashi’s side, which was even worse when considering the fact that this had all been Iruka’s idea to begin with! 

“Not possible,” Naruto declared, “No one’s better than you.” He eyed Iruka cautiously. “So you’re… happy?”

Iruka smiled at Naruto. “As long as I have you I’m happy.”

“But Kakashi-sensei makes you happy too,” Naruto pressed, his expression serious.

“I’m not sure,” Iruka told him honestly. “It’s too soon to tell.” And it’s not real.  

Naruto frowned, considering his answer. “Okay. Well. If he hurts you or breaks your heart or something, just let me know, and I’ll show him a thing or two,” he told Iruka, clapping his right fist into his left hand’s open palm in a threatening gesture.

Iruka tried very hard not to laugh at the idea of Naruto menacing Kakashi if the jonin were to ‘break’ Iruka’s ‘heart’. “I’ll be sure to let you know,” he assured Naruto. “But for now, we’re taking things one step at a time. It’s really  not serious. Nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“All right,” Naruto agreed after a moment, his eyes still studying Iruka. “But you’ll let me know if things get serious, right? I don’t want my first time hearing about your wedding plans to be from some random person on the street.”

Caught off guard by the very idea, Iruka sputtered for a good few seconds before shaking his head. “Trust me Naruto, we are definitely nowhere near considering a decision like that.”  

“Well good,” Naruto said, folding his arms over his chest. “Because you should definitely ask for my approval before you marry anyone, even if you didn’t think it was important to ask me before dating someone.”

That’s because it’s not real dating, Iruka thought. Instead, he said, “My mistake. Next time I decide to date someone, I’ll be sure to ask you permission first.”

“Good.” Naruto paused, a look of confusion crossing his features. “Wait, next time? Are you going to break up with him?”

Iruka sighed. “I don’t know, Naruto. We’ve only had dinner twice, we just started going out last week, it’s too soon to know anything.”

“All right,” Naruto said, giving Iruka a sharp look. “But I’m still going to talk to Kakashi-sensei. He should know that there are people who care about you and don’t want to see you hurt.”

To be honest, that’s part of the problem, Iruka thought wearily. He had too many people invested in his personal life, and not enough time to actually invest in it himself.  “Don’t scare him too badly,” was what he told Naruto, with a sharp look. “And be respectful. You’re his student, after all.” 

“Yeah, but you’re my Iruka. And he needs to know to respect you,” Naruto shot back, before rising from the kotatsu. “I want some milk. Do you want me to heat up some more water?” He indicated the teapot on Iruka’s low table. 

“That would be lovely,” Iruka replied, “thank you.”

With a nod, Naruto bounced into Iruka’s kitchen, and Iruka turned back to the pile of essays, picking up where he’d left off. Groaning, he began scratching notes into the margins with his bright red ink. What on earth were these pre-genin thinking? Firecrackers were definitely not one of the five essential materials every shinobi needed in their survival pack.

For the next month or so, things continued in much the same manner as they had begun. Kakashi and Team Seven took a few missions, and in between missions Kakashi dropped by with vaguely invasive but overall kind gestures, including but not limited to coffee, homemade bentos, a ‘cool pen’ that he found in a market on one of his team missions and bought for Iruka, several new kunai that he’d commissioned from his favorite weaponsmith, and another invitation to dinner. 

“But I haven’t even asked you out to dinner yet!” Iruka protested, when Kakashi asked if he was available that evening. 

“Maa, if there’s somewhere else you’d rather go, we can do that,” Kakashi said agreeably. 

“It’s not that,” Iruka mumbled, because sushi did sound really good right then, “I just feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad, sensei,” Kakashi chided, his tone surprisingly serious. “You said from the start that you wouldn’t be able to do more than the occasional dinner. I’m not surprised that you don’t have much time to spare.”  

“Well, yes, I suppose you’re right. But I still feel like I’m leaving most of the work up to you,” Iruka protested. “It doesn’t sit right with me.”

Kakashi scrubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Do you want me to stop?”

No, Iruka realized, he really didn’t want Kakashi to stop. He had come to not only enjoy, but look forward to the occasional coffee deliveries at the academy or mission desk, the sweet notes that sometimes accompanied the bento boxes waiting for him at his desk, the way Kakashi grinned when Iruka oohed and aahed over the little things he brought back from missions. “I don’t know,” he said, “I guess not, I really like -” he paused, face heating. “I mean, you’ve been very thoughtful and attentive,” he quickly rephrased himself. “It’s nice. I just wish I could do something nice in return, you know?”

“If you want to do something nice, you could join me for dinner,” Kakashi replied neutrally. “Eating out by myself gets lonely.”

He was just saying that to be nice, Iruka thought. Kakashi could have asked one of his other jonin friends to join him instead, so going to dinner with him was hardly a repayment for all the little gestures Kakashi had made over the past few weeks. But he nodded anyway. “All right. Let’s do dinner, then.”

Kakashi smiled at that, or at least his eye did. “Excellent. Follow me.”

Iruka followed him, noting as they went that they were definitely headed into one of the more wealthy districts of Konoha. Kakashi must have money to burn. Then again, he didn’t seem to eat out very often, so maybe he just saved up for nice restaurants, instead of eating out a few times a week the way Iruka did. After all, Kakashi was actually good at cooking, so he probably didn’t feel the need to eat out as often as Iruka did. 

When they reached the sushi restaurant, Iruka could immediately sense that it was significantly more expensive than any of the sushi restaurants he usually frequented. Kakashi didn’t bat an eye, though, following the server to their table. 

There was no menu, Iruka noted with some concern. He wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but he had a feeling that no menu meant prohibitively expensive. He didn’t want Kakashi spending all his money on Iruka’s dinner again, especially when Iruka still hadn’t made time to ask out Kakashi in return! 

“What can I get for you this evening?” the server asked, prompting a wave of panic as Iruka wondered how the hell someone was supposed to order without a menu.

“We’ll leave it up to the chef’s discretion,” Kakashi said calmly. 

Chef’s discretion! Chef’s discretion!! Iruka wanted to die. Who knew how much that would cost? Kakashi was just throwing it all on the whim of a chef? What kind of person just let the chef decide how much to charge them by the end of the night? 

“Of course,” the server said with a demure smile and a bow, moving in the direction of the kitchen, presumably to inform the chef that their meal was up to his discretion.  

“Is this really okay?” Iruka whispered, leaning forward so as not to alert the server to his distress. “I can pay for my dinner, really. This place seems expensive, I don’t want you to waste all your hard-earned money on me.”

Kakashi gave Iruka a surprised look. “It’s not a waste, Iruka-sensei. I’m glad to share an evening with you. If I was worried about the money, I wouldn’t have chosen this place.”

“Oh,” Iruka leaned back in his seat, feeling embarrassed. “Okay. I guess I just feel bad because my own taste is pretty… cheap, in comparison. I don’t think my choice will measure up to all this,” he explained, gesturing to the fine restaurant surrounding them. Thick wooden beams, calligraphy wall hangings and other tasteful decor left the space feeling elegant but not overworked. There were only a few tables, each within their own space, divided from one another with folded byobu screens. It was definitely much nicer than any restaurant he ever frequented when he was paying for his own meals.

“It’s not a competition,” Kakashi assured him. “It’s just dinner.”

He said that, but if it was a competition then Kakashi was definitely winning, whereas Iruka would barely qualify as a contestant. “Right. Of course.” Iruka tried to shake off the feeling of inadequacy creeping over him. This wasn’t even a real date, Kakashi wasn’t his real boyfriend, none of this was real. But in some ways, that almost made it worse! Because Iruka had done basically nothing and Kakashi was doing all the work to make this look like a real relationship. If Kakashi were really Iruka’s boyfriend, he should have broken up with Iruka by now, and for some reason that knowledge hurt. Because Iruka didn’t want Kakashi to break up with him. And it wasn’t even a real relationship to begin with!  

The server returned with a pot of tea, pouring them each a cup before gliding off once more. Iruka sipped his hot tea nervously. This place was too fancy for him. He felt out of place, and he hated making Kakashi pay for him when the man was just doing him a favor! “You didn’t have to do this,” Iruka mumbled into his teacup. 

“I know,” Kakashi replied, “but I wanted to.”

And that was the weirdest part of this, Iruka reflected. Kakashi genuinely didn’t seem bothered by all the extra time he was putting into making this seem like a real courtship. Iruka was barely managing to thank Kakashi for his efforts, much less actually put any effort in himself, and here was Kakashi, just doing this as a favor to Iruka, and yet he was being so thoughtful and kind at every turn! It wasn’t fair to him that Iruka wasn’t reciprocating, but Iruka genuinely didn’t even know what he could do for Kakashi. He couldn’t cook, he had no money, he didn’t have a favorite weaponsmith or know any good coffee roasters. He was just a boring academy teacher! What was he even supposed to do, in a case like this? He’d asked someone way out of his league to pretend to date him, and now Iruka was realizing that Kakashi was out of his league in more than just a professional sense. 

The sushi arrived, and Iruka stared down at the elegant plating in amazement. Well. Chef’s discretion looked pretty damn delicious. Probably expensive, too, but he was trying to ignore that. “Oh. Wow. This looks amazing,” Iruka said faintly. 

“Mm,” Kakashi hummed in response. “The fish here is always delicious.”

“Well,” Iruka clapped his hands together, “Let’s eat.”

“Let’s eat,” Kakashi echoed, digging in. 

The sushi was decadent. The fish practically melted in Iruka’s mouth, each flavor seeming to perfectly complement the rest. Kakashi had definitely made the right choice, leaving their meal up to the chef’s discretion. Iruka moaned a little as he ate, freezing when he saw Kakashi’s eye on him. “Sorry,” he murmured, and resolved not to make any more inappropriate noises when eating. “It’s just. So good.” 

“I’m glad you think so,” Kakashi said. 

After finishing the meal, they stayed at the table a bit longer, sipping their tea and chatting about all manner of things - Kakashi had tried a new coffee from his local roaster, Iruka was trying to figure out a hands-on survival lesson that was unlikely to result in injured pre-genin, Naruto’s training was going well… It was genuinely enjoyable, and Iruka was shocked to see how late it had grown by the time they stepped outside once more.

“Oh,” Iruka clutched at his school bag. “It’s late.”

“So it is,” Kakashi noted, keeping stride beside Iruka as the two of them walked in the direction of Iruka’s apartment. “Moon’s still out, though.”

“It looks nice, doesn’t it?” Iruka noted, glancing up at the night sky with a smile. 

“Hm,” Kakashi grunted in agreement, though when Iruka glanced over at him, his eyes weren’t on the moon.

“Thank you,” Iruka said, scrubbing at his neck, “for treating me to dinner again. I promise next time it’ll be my treat.”

“I look forward to it,” Kakashi said easily. “But don’t put in too much effort on my account.”

“That’s pretty hypocritical, coming from you,” Iruka pointed out with a chuckle. “I feel like between the two of us, you’ve definitely been going to a lot of effort on my behalf.” 

“That’s because I think you’re worth the effort,” Kakashi replied in complete seriousness.

Iruka paused at the base of his apartment building’s steps, turning to face Kakashi completely. “What?”

“You’re a good person, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi told him, his voice achingly sincere. “You deserve good things.”

Standing there at the foot of the stairs, the moonlight streaming down on them, Kakashi’s kind words ringing in Iruka’s ears, he suddenly felt the desperate urge to kiss him. Not like a passing acquaintance who was doing him a favor, but like a real boyfriend. The realization shot through him in an instant, and Iruka had to force himself to remain calm. “Thank you,” he managed to say softly, even though all he wanted to do was scream. 

“Thank you,” Kakashi replied, taking one step back and dipping into a small bow. “See you around, Iruka-sensei.” 

“Yes,” Iruka replied faintly, “see you around…”

And Kakashi was gone, leaving behind only fluttering leaves - and one fluttering heart - in his wake.

Once the idea was in his head, Iruka could not for the life of him seem to banish it from his waking mind. When Kakashi dropped off a thermos of coffee in the morning, all Iruka could think about was what if I kissed him? When he showed up the next day with a homemade bento, what if I just kissed him now? When he popped up at the mission desk a week later with a mostly-correct (he’d missed two lines, but hadn’t complained when Iruka told him to fix them) mission scroll and a hand-carved pen case that he’d bought while on the mission, what if I kissed him? It haunted Iruka, making him second-guess every interaction, every moment, every second, wondering would it be all right? Would he mind? What if I kissed him now?  

It was making him miserable, and of course Kakashi noticed, because he was just So. Damn. Attentive. (He wanted to kiss him for that, too.) 

“Is something wrong, Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi asked, dropping down from an overhanging branch and falling into step beside him as Iruka trudged home from the Academy. 

Depends on your definition, Iruka thought. Is it wrong to want to kiss your fake boyfriend? “I’m fine,” Iruka finally said. “Just. I feel bad about this arrangement, you know? I feel like you’re doing so much and I keep doing nothing.” And now I want to do more than we agreed to do, and it’s really unfair to you, because you don’t even feel that way about me.

“It’s fine,” Kakashi assured him, again. “Like I said-”

“I know,” Iruka interrupted. “But I feel like I’m using you.” Because I keep wanting you, and I shouldn’t. Because you’re so far out of my league in every way. Because it’s not fair to you to keep you to myself when you’re so amazing. You deserve better than this falsehood. You deserve better than me.  

“You’re not using me,” Kakashi replied matter-of-factly. “If you were, I’d tell you.”

Iruka laughed at that. “Would you, though?” he turned to stare at Kakashi. “It’s been three months and I never even followed through on my promise to take you to dinner.”

“Maa,” Kakashi shrugged, “you were busy.”

“You asked me out twice!” Iruka protested. “It’s not fair! I keep making you do all the work!” 

“I don’t mind doing all the work,” Kakashi shot back, frowning at Iruka. “I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is you shouldn’t have to do all the work,” Iruka shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t you see that? You deserve better than whatever this is,” he gestured dramatically between the jonin and himself.

Kakashi was still frowning, his eye narrowing as he stared at Iruka. “I am an adult, you know. I can make those decisions for myself.”

Iruka sighed. “Right. I know that. I just… it doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, if it would make you feel better,” Kakashi said easily, “are you free tonight?”

After considering the question, Iruka nodded slowly. “Yes. I suppose I am.”

“Great, so why don’t you take me out to dinner, then?” Kakashi suggested. “So you don’t feel like it’s so unfair.”

Iruka wasn’t sure whether he wanted to punch the man or kiss him senseless. Maybe both. (Definitely both) “That’s… that’s not the point!” he finally shrieked. “You’ve literally made my point, right there!”

Kakashi now looked confused. “Wait. What? How so?”

“You! Asked me! If I was free for dinner!” Iruka cried, throwing his hands in the air. “I didn’t ask you, you asked me!”  

“Yes,” Kakashi said slowly, as if speaking with Iruka was like disarming an explosive. “Because you feel bad about not taking me to dinner.”

“How are you so perfect and so stupid at the same time?!” Iruka howled, stopping dead in his tracks and clutching at his hair in frustration. 

“I don’t understand,” Kakashi said, genuine confusion in his voice and plainly visible on what little Iruka could see of his face.

“You literally asked me to ask you out to dinner because you were worried about me feeling bad!” Iruka pointed at Kakashi, driving his finger into the center of Kakashi’s chest. Mm, nice, a small part of his brain supplied. A larger part of his brain immediately shut down that train of thought as it was not going to be helpful at this time. “I was too busy stressing to think about you, whereas your entire motivation for going out tonight was to make me feel better!”

“…isn’t that what boyfriends are supposed to do?” Kakashi asked, now sounding utterly bewildered. 

“Yes!” Iruka cried, “And you are great at it!” he jabbed his finger into Kakashi’s chest again to emphasize the word you . “And I,” he lifted his finger away from Kakashi and pointed to himself, “am terrible at it! It’s not fair to you!” 

“I don’t know how many times I have to keep telling you that it’s fine,” Kakashi said, now sounding vaguely exasperated. “I know that you’re not good at it. I don’t care about that. I don’t understand why this is such a problem for you.”

“It’s a problem because you deserve better!” Iruka cried. “You’re… you, and I’m,” he buried his face in his hands, eyes prickling with unshed tears. Don’t cry in front of him, don’t do it, not now! “I’m a mess,” he said despairingly, voice muffled by his open palms.

Warm, calloused fingers wrapped around Iruka’s wrists, pulling them away from his face. A moment later, those same fingers curled under his chin, tipping it up until Iruka’s eyes met the concerned gaze of Kakashi. “Iruka,” he gently murmured. “It’s really fine. You don’t have to feel this way, I promise.” 

Staring up at him, Kakashi cupping his chin with one hand, Iruka felt his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to lean in towards Kakashi and close the gap between their lips. He wanted it so badly he was almost afraid the man would be able to see it in his eyes. Instead, he stepped back, squaring his shoulders. This was inappropriate. This wasn’t part of their agreement. He had to stop feeling like this.  “This conversation isn’t over,” Iruka said stiffly, “but let’s table it for now. How do you feel about ramen?”

Kakashi’s expression still held a hint of concern, but his posture relaxed as he realized Iruka wasn’t going to pursue the matter any further. “Ramen sounds good,” he said. 

“Right. Ichiraku’s, then,” Iruka said, forcing a smile as he glanced over at Kakashi, his heart lurching in his chest as he took in the hint of a smile crinkling the corners of the man’s eye. “My treat.”

“Sounds good,” Kakashi agreed. “Let’s go.”

The meal was awkward at first, but before long the two of them managed to ease back into friendly conversation; swapping stories, complaining about work, and sharing ideas. It was comfortable, it was convenient, it wasn’t fair to Kakashi. But Iruka was too selfish to bring that up again, too busy enjoying the time he spent in the other man’s presence.

He really didn't deserve this.

Chapter Text

Iruka tried to stop thinking about Kakashi in a romantic light. But it was hard, especially when the jonin kept showing up in random places with small, innocent gestures that just reminded Iruka of how good he was. And Iruka still didn’t know what to do in return! He couldn’t think of anything special that he could do for Kakashi, which left him feeling stressed. It was a confusing array of emotions, leaving Iruka teetering between the extremes of desperately wanting to kiss the man and desperately wanting to sink into the ground and disappear from sight. 

Finally, in a fit of frustration, Iruka found himself seeking out one of the people he assumed to be a close friend of Kakashi’s, Maito Gai. Gai-san happened to be training with his Genin team on one of the grounds near the Academy, so Iruka slipped out at lunch to try for a quick conversation. 

“Gai-san!” he called in greeting, jogging across the open field and flagging down the jonin-sensei with a wave. 

“Iruka-sensei!” Gai cried boisterously, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your esteemed presence?”

Esteemed presence was a bit much, even for Gai, but Iruka wasn’t going to call him on it. “I wanted your advice, actually,” Iruka admitted sheepishly.

“Oh-ho! And what matter are we discussing that prompted you to seek my assistance?” Gai asked, his eyes glinting with excitement. 

“It’s about Kakashi, actually,” Iruka admitted weakly.

“My esteemed rival?” Gai replied, sounding surprised. “Is everything all right? I was most thrilled to hear the two of you were pursuing youthful passions with one another!”

If only, Iruka thought heatedly, and then mentally slapped himself. Not the time, not appropriate, not part of the agreement! How hard was it to remember that? “Yes. Well. I’m having some trouble related to that, actually.”

“Ah,” Gai said, his voice filling with sympathy. “I must caution you, Iruka-sensei. While my esteemed rival can come across as cold and unfeeling, I assure you that within him burns a fiery, passionate inferno! Sometimes, he may struggle to express himself, but I truly believe he cares deeply for you!” 

Iruka blinked in surprise, impressed that Kakashi had even managed to thoroughly convince not only the villagers, but even his close friends of the veracity of their relationship. “I’m not worried about that,” Iruka assured him, “I’m having the opposite problem, I think.”

Gai lifted one of his bushy eyebrows in response. “Oh-ho? In what way?”

“I just…” Iruka gestured helplessly. “He’s too good at it!”

“Good at what?” Gai perked up slightly, as if sensing a new ‘challenge’ coming his way.

Struggling to keep his expression neutral (and mostly failing), Iruka explained. “He’s too good at being a boyfriend. And I’m not good at it.”

“I find that hard to believe, Iruka-sensei!” Gai declared with his usual unbridled enthusiasm. “You are an exceptional person, passionate and considerate, with a soft heart and a clever mind!” He pointed dramatically at Iruka, striking a pose. “Certainly you are an excellent match for my esteemed rival!”

“No, no,” Iruka felt his face heating at the overflow of undeserved compliments, “I’m really not,” he said. “I… he keeps bringing me gifts? And I don’t know how to thank him. And he keeps asking me to dinner? And I haven’t asked him out once, you know? Even though I was the one who asked him to date me?” Iruka realized he was getting perhaps a little too honest and tried to reign himself in. “I just feel like I don’t know how to be good to him the way he’s good to me.”

“Iruka-sensei,” Gai said seriously, his expression hardening into a look that was deeply serious. “The fact that you are spending your time thinking of him and wanting to be better for him tells me that you are already thanking him enough.”

That. Wasn’t. What. Iruka. Wanted. To. Hear. “Gai-san!” Iruka shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “I just want to know what he likes, okay? What does he want?”

“He likes you!” Gai insisted, poking Iruka in the chest. “He wants you! That is all, Iruka-sensei! You have given him your heart! What man could dare ask for more?”

Iruka barely resisted the urge to scream in fury. That wasn’t helpful at all, because he hadn’t given his heart to Kakashi, and Kakashi wouldn’t have wanted Iruka’s heart, even if he had given it to him! “Fine!” he shouted angrily. “Fine, I’ll just try and find some stupid porn book and give him that, I don’t care anymore.”

Gai blinked rapidly. “He doesn’t need more things, Iruka-sensei. He needs affection. A companion. Love.”

All things that Iruka couldn’t give him. Because Kakashi didn’t really want that. Not from Iruka, anyway. He was just doing this as a favor, and Iruka was starting to realize that the only things Kakashi really wanted or needed just wouldn’t be right coming from him. Kakashi deserved a real relationship, with someone who would really give Kakashi their heart, show him real affection and companionship. Someone better than Iruka. Someone Kakashi actually loved.

It hurt a lot more than Iruka expected it to. “Right,” he said slowly. “Thank you for your insight, Gai-san. I appreciate it.” Turning, he slowly walked back across the open training fields. He still had half a day of teaching waiting for him at the Academy, and he was already exhausted.

Of course Kakashi was waiting for him at the end of the day, just outside the Academy gates. “Ah, Iruka-sensei,” he said pleasantly, tucking away his neon-colored age-inappropriate reading material and turning to face Iruka completely. “Do you have time to go out for dinner tonight?”

Iruka wanted to spit. This was so frustrating! Kakashi was doing everything right, and it just made Iruka feel like he was wrong, and he still wanted to kiss him, and that wasn’t right because this was all fake and he shouldn’t be thinking like that anyway, and Kakashi kept spending all his money on Iruka, and there was no way Iruka could pay him back, and he couldn’t even try and make it up some other way! 

“Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi repeated, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. “Is tonight not a good night for you?”

“I can’t cook,” Iruka said, his mind slowly closing in on an idea as he struggled to figure out what he could possibly do for someone as competent and considerate as Kakashi. “But I want to cook something for you.”

Kakashi’s eye widened in surprise. “You want to cook?”

“For you,” Iruka clarified, “but I’m bad at it. So I don’t know what to do. I could make miso soup, maybe?”

“I could…” Kakashi scrubbed at the back of his neck, suddenly unable to meet Iruka’s gaze. “I could teach you.”

“Oh!” Iruka gasped, pointing at Kakashi. “That’s right! The Sukiyaki! Those bentos! You’re great at cooking!” He felt as though victory might finally be within his grasp. “Teach me how to cook your favorite food!”

Kakashi blinked rapidly. “But… wouldn’t you rather know how to make your favorite food?”

Scowling, Iruka crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the jonin. How could the man be so smart and yet so monumentally stupid? “I want to make something for you,” he clarified. “Not for me.”

“Oh,” Kakashi said in a small voice. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have asked!” Iruka exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “Do you think I admit my shortcomings to just anyone?”

Gaze locked on Iruka, Kakashi slowly shook his head. “Not being able to cook is a shortcoming?”

“It is when I can’t think of anything else to do for you,” Iruka shot back. “And don’t even think about saying I don’t have to do anything for you!” he snapped, recognizing the way Kakashi shifted his weight as if he was about to contradict Iruka. “I want to, okay? I want to do something nice for you, so just let me do it!”

Slowly, Kakashi nodded. “All right. Shall we cook at my place, or yours?”

Iruka considered the question for a moment. “My place? So I know how to do it with my own kitchen supplies, so I can make it again next time.”

“Sure,” Kakashi agreed mildly. “Let’s buy our supplies first, and then we can take the groceries to yours.”

“Sounds good!” Iruka grinned. “What are we making?”

“Well,” Kakashi glanced up at the sky thoughtfully. “It’s late autumn, so if we’re lucky, they might still have some saury in at the fish market.”

Iruka nodded slowly. It was a seasonal fish, but they’d probably still have some in stock. He hoped. Maybe. “Okay, so we’re making saury?”

“Yes,” Kakashi said, turning and heading in the direction of the village market. “Also eggplant miso soup.”

“Oh,” Iruka hurried to walk beside him. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s my favorite,” Kakashi said in a warm tone, glancing at Iruka with one of those eye-smiles Iruka had gotten better at recognizing over the past month or so. 

“Right,” Iruka said, inwardly a little surprised. Kakashi had seemed the type to like really fancy food, since he’d always taken Iruka out for such nice things. Even when it had just been the two of them, he’d had Sukiyaki! It was a little surprising that his favorite food would be something so simple. 

“Now I believe you owe me some information,” Kakashi said, turning to glance at Iruka with a gleam in his eye. 

“Oh?” Iruka wasn’t sure what sort of information he had that Kakashi might be interested in knowing. “What do you want to know?”

“Your favorite food, of course,” Kakashi replied.

“Oh,” Iruka chuckled awkwardly, scrubbing at the back of his neck and avoiding Kakashi’s gaze. “It isn’t obvious?”

“…should it be?” Kakashi asked, sounding strangely nervous.

“It’s Ichiraku Ramen,” Iruka explained, laughing at how Kakashi, the man who seemed to have figured out everything about Iruka, hadn’t known that his favorite food was Ichiraku Ramen. 

“Oh, so that’s why you go there so often,” Kakashi said, sounding surprised. 

“I mean, yes,” Iruka replied, “but also, it feels a little like home to me, you know?”

Kakashi slowed his gait slightly, turning to stare at Iruka. “Like home?” he repeated, sounding baffled. “It’s a ramen shop.”

Iruka felt his face heat as he realized how stupid that sounded. Of course Kakashi wouldn’t understand. It was a dumb thing to feel, but Iruka couldn’t help feeling the way he did! “I know that,” he protested. “It’s just… after the kyuubi, I didn’t. There was no one,” he explained, eyes falling to the ground as he remembered. “Teuchi-san, he… I didn’t have money. And I had no way to make money, at least at first. But Teuchi-san never worried about money. He said I could pay him back later.” Iruka chuckled softly at the memory. “We both knew it was a lie, but it was enough to excuse my regular visits. Teuchi-san would ask me how I was doing, or he’d remind me to do my homework… He wasn’t the only person who checked on me, of course. But there’s something comforting in a hearty bowl of soup. It’s like…” Iruka gestured awkwardly. “Eating a hug.”

Kakashi chuckled at the way Iruka described the soup, but he didn’t seem to dismiss the way he felt about it. “I see. So it really is a homecoming for you, in a way. Teuchi-san always welcomed you, even when you felt alone.”

“Exactly!” Iruka exclaimed. “I never had to be more with him. I could be sad, or lonely, or grumpy, and he’d still give me a bowl of soup, pat my head, and tell me to do my homework. It meant so much to me, back then. I’ve never forgotten it. So when I eat Ichiraku… it feels like home.”

“I’m glad you have a place like that,” Kakashi said softly, resuming his walk towards the village market. 

Iruka noted that Kakashi didn’t say whether he had a place that felt like home to him. Thinking back to what Gai had told him earlier that day, Iruka was beginning to wonder if maybe Kakashi was still looking for his own place where he felt safe and welcomed by the people there. He hoped not - Kakashi deserved to have a place that felt like home, too. 

It didn’t take long to buy the ingredients, as Iruka already had salt and miso paste at home. Kakashi did insist on buying some kelp and bonito flakes for the soup stock, as he said it was his favorite flavor. Iruka took mental notes as they went from stall to stall in the market, noting what Kakashi looked for. Anytime he didn’t understand the jonin’s choice, he asked about it, and Kakashi was kind enough to patiently explain why he chose a certain eggplant, or what was better about one kind of fish flake than the other. Even with all of Iruka’s questions, they finished up without too much hassle, and were on their way back to Iruka’s apartment when Iruka suddenly realized he hadn’t cleaned the place since the weekend.  

He stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh no.”

Kakashi glanced at him, tensing as he took in the look on Iruka’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to clean my apartment,” Iruka admitted, covering his face with his hands in a futile effort to hide the blush that had to be turning his cheeks bright red by now. “I’m so sorry, it’s going to be such a mess.”

“I don’t mind,” Kakashi said. “We’re just cooking.”

Iruka tried vainly to remember if he’d washed his dishes from that morning. He really hoped he’d washed his dishes that morning. “Right. Just cooking.” He didn’t think the place was dirty, or anything, but he probably had some clothes lying around, a few books or journals lying out. It was probably fine. He hadn’t vacuumed in two weeks, but surely the dust wouldn’t be that noticeable?

Then again, Kakashi was an elite shinobi. He could probably spot every single grain of dust in a fifty-meter radius. (He was being ridiculous, he knew he was being ridiculous, but he wanted to do things right, he wanted to impress Kakashi, and he’d already failed because he didn’t know how to cook, and now he was going to look like a messy person, too!) 

“If you don’t want me to come to your house…” Kakashi said slowly, still holding the grocery bags, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or go.

“It’s fine,” Iruka decided, deciding he wanted to know how to make Kakashi’s favorite food enough to weather the judgement that would inevitably be passed on his neatness habits (or lack thereof). “It’s a mess, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“I don’t mind,” Kakashi assured him, turning once more and hefting the grocery bags. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” Iruka said, jogging for a moment to catch up with him. “Sorry in advance for the mess.”

“I already said I don’t mind,” Kakashi assured him, tossing a glance his way. “It really is fine.”

Iruka wasn’t sure about that, but he also didn’t feel like arguing about it . “If you say so.”

Kakashi huffed in amusement. The two of them walked in comfortable silence for the remainder of the trip. Once they arrived, Iruka quickly disabled his wards, kicking off his sandals at the genkan and sliding into his house slippers before accepting the grocery bags from Kakashi. He hurried through the living room into the kitchen, setting the groceries on the narrow counter before hurrying back into the living room to invite Kakashi inside. Kakashi still hadn’t shed his sandals at the door, and Iruka realized this was because he hadn’t pulled out a pair of guest slippers yet. Oh, he was already a failure of a host! He dove for the small basket by the door, holding it out to Kakashi. “Here, you can wear one of these,” he offered.

“Thank you,” Kakashi said, selecting a navy blue pair from the pile and setting them on the step, slipping off his sandals and stepping into the slippers. 

“Right, uh,” Iruka stared frantically at his living room. It didn’t look too bad. Just… lived-in. Maybe a bit dusty. And he hadn’t emptied the wastebasket. And - yeah he was going to stop looking because it was starting to get stressful. “Kitchen is this way,” he offered, scurrying through the living room and directing Kakashi to the place they’d be spending most of their time anyway. 

“You have a nice place,” Kakashi complimented Iruka, stepping into the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Iruka said, digging into the grocery bags and pulling out the fish, eggplant, abura-age, green onions, bonito flakes,  daikon, and kelp, setting them out on the counter. “I’ve been here for about four years now, so it’s started to feel more homey.”

Kakashi nodded, humming thoughtfully. “It feels homey.”

Iruka hoped that was a good thing, but he couldn’t tell based on what he could see of Kakashi’s expression. “Okay,” he said, setting all of the groceries out, “I have the miso paste and the rice in the fridge, do we need anything else?” 

“Salt,” Kakashi said absently, picking up the fish and examining it. “Looks like these have already had the scales removed, good. That’ll make things easier.”

Iruka nodded. He would make sure to ask the fish merchant next time since he wasn’t sure he knew how to remove the scales from a fish. He’d always just bought prepared fillets before, so having a whole fish was a new challenge for him. Of course, the sauries that he’d bought were pretty small and would easily fit inside the fish grill in his stove. But he had never cooked a fish with the head and guts still intact before. “What’s first?”

“First, we’ll start the rice,” Kakashi said, setting the fish down.

“I don’t have a rice cooker,” Iruka admitted, his face heating as he popped open the fridge and grabbed his bag of rice. “Mine broke, and I haven’t bought a new one…” He couldn’t bear to admit that the rice cooker had been broken for quite some time now.

“That’s fine,” Kakashi said, accepting the bag of rice from Iruka and measuring some into a pot he’d grabbed from the dish rack. Iruka was somewhat relieved to note that while the dishes may not have been put away, at least they were clean! 

“What can I do?” Iruka asked, shuffling his feet as he watched Kakashi rinse the rice in the pot. 

“Go ahead and set the kelp in some cold water,” Kakashi instructed, running the cloudy water off the rice and filling the pot a second time, swishing the water around. “It’ll need to sit a long time, so best get that taken care of.”

Iruka nodded, taking the kelp and reaching around Kakashi to grab his other pot, laying the large piece of kelp on the bottom of the pan. 

Kakashi drained the excess water from the rice. It was much clearer, now. He added some more water, shook the pot once, and nodded to himself. “This should do it,” he said, easing past Iruka to set the pot on the stove.

Iruka took the opportunity to pour cold water over the kelp in his own pot. “Okay, now what?”

“Go ahead and set that aside. We need to wash the fish,” Kakashi explained, flicking on Iruka’s stove and eyeing the pot of rice before turning to face him. “If you gut the fish, you need to wash it before and after slicing it and cleaning it out, but I actually like it in the traditional style, where you leave the whole fish intact.”

Iruka nodded slowly. “I would prefer mine gutted,” he said. “The taste is too strong for me otherwise.”

“Ah,” Kakashi nodded, turning on Iruka’s tap water. “All right, then, let’s wash one and then gut and wash the other one.”

Iruka nodded. Kakashi demonstrated precision with Iruka’s knife, easily slicing the fish and disposing of the guts in a small waste bag which he quickly tied shut and placed inside a second bag before throwing it away. Once both fish had been washed, Kakashi sliced along the back of his own fish, “leaving room for steam to escape,” he explained. He then demonstrated how to salt the two fish, then set them aside. “We’ll leave those for about fifteen minutes,” he said, turning to wash the knife. 

“What’s next?” Iruka asked helplessly, feeling like he should be doing something. 

“Hand me the eggplant,” Kakashi instructed, “I’ll wash them.”

“I’ll dry the knife,” Iruka offered, exchanging the eggplant for the sharp implement. “Do you need a cutting board for the eggplant?”

“That would be good. Grab a sheet of paper towel to pat the oil off the abura-age, too,” Kakashi told him before turning to the stove. “Ah, the rice is at a boil now,” he noted, turning the heat to low. “We’ll let it sit for a bit now.”

So that was the trick to unburned rice? Iruka made a mental note of that as he took out the abura-age and patted it between two sheets of paper towel. “Is this right?” he asked.

“Exactly,” Kakashi said. “If you like, go ahead and slice that into thin strips.”

Iruka nodded, carefully chopping the abura-age. Kakashi was at his side a moment later with the rinsed eggplant. “Take off the tops, then slice these down the center,” he instructed, watching Iruka work. “Good. Now slice them into thick pieces -” he placed his hand over Iruka’s, moving it a bit farther along the eggplant, “about this size.”

Iruka suddenly felt like he was all thumbs, intensely aware of how close to him Kakashi was standing. “Oh,” he said, unable to find any other words. He carefully chopped the eggplant, and Kakashi, hand still hovering over Iruka’s, helped him move it over a little, slicing the eggplant evenly. 

“Good,” Kakashi said, his smooth voice tickling Iruka’s earlobe. “Like that. You want the pieces to be nice and even.”

Iruka nodded, convinced his face was betraying far too much of how he felt about Kakashi’s proximity. He tried desperately to focus on the eggplant as Kakashi drew his hand away. Even slices. Similar sizes. He could do this.

“Excellent,” Kakashi enthused. “Let’s finish making the dashi now. Go ahead and turn that pot of kelp water on.” He indicated the pot of cold water Iruka had set aside.

“Okay,” Iruka said, turning the stove on. “Now what?”

“Let’s soak this eggplant,” Kakashi suggested, “Do you have a bowl we can use?”

“Sure,” Iruka said, digging a bowl out of his dish rack and handing it to Kakashi. “Will this work?”

“It certainly will,” Kakashi said, tossing the eggplant in and filling the bowl with water until the slices were completely covered. “This will help take some of the bitterness out of the eggplant and leave it tender,” he explained. “We’ll drain it right before adding it to the soup.”

“Speaking of soup…” Iruka wandered back over to the pot, which was starting to form small bubbles on the bottom. 

“Ah, yes, perfect timing,” Kakashi enthused, “go ahead and take that kelp out before it comes to a full boil.”

Iruka nodded, retrieving a pair of chopsticks and plucking out the sheet of kelp, discarding it. “Now what?”

“Bonito flakes,” Kakashi said, lifting the bag of flakes. “Wait until the water’s reached a full boil. Then we’ll turn off the heat and toss them in.”

Iruka nodded, glancing at the pot. “Anything else?” he asked. 

“We do need to grease the grill before putting the fish in,” Kakashi answered. “Do you have any cooking oil?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Iruka exclaimed, digging in his cupboard for the oil. “Here it is.”

“Great, let’s dab a little bit of that on the grill rack,” Kakashi said, tugging the rack out of the fish griller and setting it on the counter. 

“Okay,” Iruka poured a little bit of oil on a paper towel. “Like this?”

“Exactly,” Kakashi said, taking the grill rack back and returning it to the interior of the grill before flipping the grill on. “We’ll let this heat up a minute,” he said, and nodded to the stove. “Is the stock boiling yet?”

The kelp water was indeed boiling. Iruka felt a little dizzy, trying to keep up with all the details. “Yes,” he answered.

“Go ahead and turn it off,” Kakashi instructed, coming to stand beside Iruka. “Grab a handful of these and toss them in.”

Iruka nodded, turning off the heat and grabbing a handful of bonito flakes. He tossed them into the pot. 

“Good,” Kakashi said approvingly. “Do you have a strainer or cheesecloth?”

“Yes,” Iruka had to dig into his cupboards for the strainer. “Now what?” 

Kakashi had grabbed a heat-proof bowl from the dish drainer. “We'll wait two minutes, then strain out the fish flakes,” he explained. “But first, let's get those fish in the grill.”

Iruka picked up the tray with the two salted saury and hurried over. “Okay,” he said, “I have the fish.” 

“Lay them on the grill like so,” Kakashi demonstrated with one fish, then let Iruka plop down the other. 

“Okay,” Iruka said, watching as Kakashi eased the fish grill closed before turning the temperature down to a lower heat. “Now what?”

“Grate the daikon, then drain the fish flakes,” Kakashi replied, plucking the large white radish off the counter. “Let’s start by peeling this.”

Iruka nodded. He’d always just bought pre-packaged grated daikon, but he did have a grater that he rarely used. He dug into his cupboards, tugging out the implement and rinsing it in the sink just in case it was dusty or something. Kakashi had peeled the daikon in the time it took for Iruka to clean the grater. 

“You just want to grate a bit,” Kakashi said, “Any extra daikon can be cooked later.” 

Iruka didn’t have the heart to tell Kakashi how very unlikely that was. “Okay,” he said, grating the radish until Kakashi spoke again.

“That should be enough. We need to drain the excess liquid now,” he explained, cupping the ends of his fingers over the daikon and draining the liquid into the sink. 

Iruka nodded seriously, internally wondering how on earth he was going to remember how to do all this on his own the next time he wanted to cook for Kakashi. “And now we strain the broth?” he asked, glancing to Kakashi for confirmation.

The man nodded, indicating that Iruka should go ahead.

Nodding, Iruka carefully poured the broth through the strainer into the heatproof bowl. Kakashi took the pot, rinsing it before setting it back on the stoved. “Go ahead and pour that broth in here now,” he said.

Iruka complied, and Kakashi turned the burner back on. “Let’s drain the eggplant and get that in here next,” he said. “Then add the abura-age.”

Nodding, Iruka hopped over to the eggplant, draining the water off it and passing the bowl to Kakashi. He carefully scooped the eggplant into the dashi stock, ensuring that all of the pieces were covered, then turned to Iruka with a grin. “Time to turn the fish!” he declared, dumping the abura-age in after the eggplant.

Iruka nodded to show he’d heard, turning and grabbing a pair of tongs before popping open the fish grill. It was a good thing they’d greased the grill rack, because the fish lifted from the rack without issue, and Iruka was able to easily turn over both of the saury before closing the fish grill once more. “Okay,” he said, sighing heavily. “Is that all?”

“Just one last thing,” Kakashi said, lifting the green onions. “We need to chop these for our garnish.”

A garnish? Iruka couldn’t remember the last time he worried about plating anything he’d cooked, but he figured this was for Kakashi, so he’d do his best. “Okay,” he said, grabbing the knife that Kakashi had somehow found time to wash already - had he done that while Iruka was straining the dashi broth? How was he so good at multitasking in the kitchen? Iruka was barely managing to keep track of what was cooking where or when, much less keeping the dishes clean, too! 

“Go ahead and slice them nice and thin,” Kakashi instructed, and although Iruka felt as though he wasn’t exactly doing a great job of chopping them, he was a shinobi and at least knew how to be somewhat precise with a knife. 

“Excellent,” Kakashi said. “Let’s pop those fish out and turn off the soup.”

Iruka nodded, grabbing two plates and setting them on the kitchen table, flicking off the fish grill and lifting one fish onto the first plate, the second onto the other. He set them down, and turned around to see Kakashi standing by the eggplant soup. 

“Oh, miso, right,” Iruka hurried past Kakashi to yank open his fridge, pulling out the miso paste and handing off.

“You want to carefully stir it in,” Kakashi demonstrated, using the warm broth to slowly dissolve the paste so that no chunks ended up in the soup. 

Iruka nodded, watching carefully. “I’ll get bowls,” he said, retrieving two soup bowls and bringing them over. Kakashi ladled eggplant miso soup into each one, then grabbed a pinch of the green onions Iruka had just chopped, sprinkling them on top. He then turned to the grated daikon, and using one of Iruka’s spoons, scooped a small pile onto each of their plates. “Do you have soy sauce or ponzu?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Iruka answered, poking his head in the fridge and pulling out the ponzu sauce he had. “Will this do?” 

“It will,” Kakashi said. 

Iruka found two small dishes and poured some ponzu into each dish, setting them on the plates next to the small mounds of grated daikon radish. 

A moment later, Kakshi was setting down two steaming bowls of rice, because of course he knew how to cook rice on the stove without burning it. Iruka waved off the irritation, though, because the food looked amazing. He couldn’t believe he’d actually helped make it! It looked too perfect for one of Iruka’s usual cooking attempts.

Kakashi glanced at Iruka and raised his visible eyebrow. “Shall we eat?”

Iruka grinned, staring down at the incredible spread waiting on his kitchen table. “Sounds good, I’m starving.”

Two days later, a rice cooker appeared in Iruka’s kitchen. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where it had come from, but what Iruka couldn’t figure out for the life of him was why? Of course Kakashi had given him things before, but those had all been visible gifts, clearly intended to further the myth that the two of them were in a committed relationship. This hadn’t been given to him in public, though. So why had Kakashi done it? 

Iruka stared at the rice cooker, willing it to answer him. Of course, it did not respond, and had it responded, it would have left Iruka feeling even more unsettled. As it was, he didn’t know how to react.  Should he thank Kakashi? Maybe the public gratitude would be enough to keep up the act? But rice cookers were expensive! Why had Kakashi given him such a valuable kitchen tool? Was this his way of encouraging Iruka to cook more? Or was it a subtle jibe at his lack of cooking skill? Iruka didn’t think so, but he was grasping at straws trying to figure out why Kakashi would have given it to him. He didn’t deserve something like this, and especially not from someone who wasn’t even his real boyfriend!

Stubbornly, Iruka poured rice into his usual cooking pot, staring at the stove as he waited for the rice water to come to a boil. There was nothing for it - he’d just have to tell Kakashi to take the rice cooker back. He couldn’t accept such a gift, and the jonin should have known better than to give it to him in the first place.

“Kakashi-san!” Iruka called, hurrying out of the Academy, spotting the slouched figure of the jonin waiting just outside the gates. “What were you thinking?” he practically shouted.

Kakashi blinked twice before slowly asking. “...do you mean right now?”

“No, I mean -” Iruka cut himself off, sighing heavily. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” he asked.

“Somewhere private?” Kakashi asked.

“Preferably,” Iruka replied, indicating that Kakashi should lead the way.

“Let’s go, then,” Kakashi said, turning and sauntering off in the direction of the training grounds. “There are some private spots in the woods out this way.”

Iruka nodded, walking beside him. They continued in silence for some distance, until the village and potential prying eyes fell into the distance. “I wanted to thank you for everything,” Iruka said, turning to stare at Kakashi. “But also, I have to ask - why? Why are you doing this?”

Kakashi frowned. “Doing what?”

“Pretending to be my boyfriend!” Iruka explained, a bit more forcefully than was necessary. “I don’t understand why you would put up with someone like me for so little gain.”

Kakashi’s frown deepened as he eyed Iruka. “I don’t feel like I’m putting up with anything,” he said. 

“You put in all the work,” Iruka explained irritably, “and don’t get anything from me in return-”

“This again?” Kakashi broke in, sounding frustrated. “I already told you, I don’t care about that. I like spending time with you, and that’s enough for me.”

“But it isn’t fair!” Iruka insisted. “You’re wasting all your time and money on a loser like me, when you could have a real, meaningful relationship with someone else!”

“With who?” Kakashi demanded, irritation creeping into his tone. “I’m not exactly looking for-”

“Then why are you pretending to be with me?” Iruka snapped, “If you’re not looking for a relationship now, there have to be better people than me to pretend to date! Hell, you could at least pretend to date someone who has the time and money to actually contribute equally to date night instead of always mooching off of you!” 

“I don’t care about that!” Kakashi insisted, “If I did, I wouldn’t do it!”

“But I care about it!” Iruka insisted, “And you keep-” his voice caught, and for a solid instant he was terrified that tears were about to start gathering in his eyes. He took a sharp breath in and kept going. “You just keep doing more and more things for me, and I end up owing you more and more, and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you, and I don’t - I can’t - I wanted this to be easy, but now I feel like it’s even more stressful!” Iruka swiped at his cheeks, horrified to realize that he had lost his fight against his tears. He wasn’t sure if he was crying out of frustration or humiliation, but it didn’t really matter. He just knew it felt horrible.

Kakashi, for his part, looked as though he’d seen a ghost. His one visible eye had gone wide, his whole body full of tension as he took a half-step forward, one hand stretching out placatingly. “Iruka-sensei,” he said, “please don’t cry, I-”

“I’m a wreck,” Iruka cut him off, sniffing and pressing his palms to his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to stem the flow. “I just - I don’t think I can do this anymore, Kakashi-san! It’s too much, I can’t measure up, and even when I try, I can’t! You’re so much better, and you deserve more than what I’m able to give.”

“Maybe I don’t want more than what you’re able to give,” Kakashi growled, his soft tone shifting to something darker, more angry. “I don’t know how to explain it in a way that you’ll understand, but you have to believe me when I say it. I don’t care about things like that!”

“Maybe you should,” Iruka shot back, his own anger beginning to overtake his misery. “Just because you think it’s okay to be treated badly and taken advantage of doesn’t make it any more right.”

“You’re not taking advantage of me!” Kakashi snapped back, throwing his hands in the air. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This isn’t right,” Iruka said, fighting to keep his volume down, “I never should have asked you to do this.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re so upset!” Kakashi protested. “Why is it so hard for you to just listen to what I’m saying to you?”

“I think we should break up,” Iruka said, and Kakashi fell silent, his arms falling limply to his sides. 

“…you want to break up?” Kakashi repeated in a small voice. 

“I mean, as much as you can break up, when you’re just pretending to date someone,” Iruka said, ashamed by how bitter he sounded, but unable to keep the emotion from staining his voice.

Kakashi still hadn’t moved from his place, staring at Iruka. “If that’s what you want,” he said, his voice flat, his tone much colder than Iruka could remember ever hearing from him before.

What I want is to kiss you senseless and make you really mine, Iruka thought desperately. But you deserve better than that. So I’ll let you go, instead. “It is. I’m sure.”

Slowly, stiffly, Kakashi inclined his head to acknowledge Iruka’s statement. “Then I guess we’re broken up,” he said. 

No! A part of Iruka wanted to shout, I want this! I want you! Instead, he nodded back. “Thank you for everything,” he said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better boyfriend to you.”

Kakashi snorted sharply at that. “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, so I don’t know why you think you’re so bad at it.”

Iruka felt his heart twist at the words. “That’s not… Kakashi-san. If I’m the best you’ve had, you…” he shook his head sharply. “Whoever they were, they weren’t good for you. I’m not good for you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sensei,” Kakashi said coldly. “You may not have been good to me. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t good for me.”

Before Iruka could ask him what the hell he meant by that, the man vanished, a few leaves drifting to the ground in the wake of his passing. Iruka watched the leaves slowly sink to the ground, his heart sinking in his chest as he watched them fall. This was the right thing to do. It had to be.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Chapter Text

The next few days were miserable. Iruka had to go back to drinking the swill in the teacher’s lounge that couldn’t fairly be called coffee due to how watery it was, had to walk from the school to his apartment by himself, had to eat ramen while seated alone at Ichiraku. Being alone had never tasted quite so bitter, but now it seemed like everything he did reminded him of the Jonin. He missed the way Kakashi would pop up at random times with a greeting and an invitation to dinner, or a small knickknack in tow, or even just to keep Iruka company as he walked from one end of the village to the other. He missed the way Kakashi would infuriatingly stand outside the academy gates reading what amounted to porn without having the decency to hide it from the childrens’ prying eyes. He missed hearing about how Naruto was doing in training.

He missed Kakashi. 

He’d known it was going to hurt the moment he’d made his decision, but he hadn’t realized just how much Kakashi had managed to insert himself into Iruka’s life. Now that Kakashi was no longer a part of his daily routine, Iruka could more clearly see just how much he’d enjoyed his presence. In all honesty, Iruka wasn’t even sure if the man was still in the village these days, he hadn’t seen so much as a glimpse of him since they’d “broken up”. It was odd how much Iruka missed him, considering the relationship hadn’t actually been real. But that was part of why Iruka had taken that step in the first place, really. Because Kakashi made it feel real. Made it seem right. Made Iruka want more than Kakashi had offered, and that wasn’t fair to him. So he would deal with the shitty coffee and the lonely walks to the mission desk and his own terrible cooking. It was what he deserved.

When he got home, Iruka wanted to curse at the damn rice cooker sitting on his counter, still unused, as yet unreturned. He hated it, feeling like it was somehow to blame for the loneliness that seemed to be eating away at him now. But that was ridiculous. It was just a kitchen appliance, he couldn’t blame it for all his woes. He washed his rice, scowling down at the pot as he flicked on the burner, his mind turning back to the instructions he’d been given by - !! Damn, he couldn’t even eat without thinking about the infuriating Jonin! What had Iruka ever done to deserve this?

Just as he was sitting down to eat his (more delicious now that he knew how to cook it) rice and a fried egg topped with some mostly thawed frozen spinach drizzled with soy sauce and sesame oil, he heard someone knock on his door. Sighing, Iruka set down his chopsticks, moving across his apartment to open the door. “Yes?” he said, and Naruto was standing outside with an anxious look on his face.

“Iruka-sensei?” he said in a soft voice, more nervous than Iruka could remember hearing from him in a long time. 

“Naruto!” Iruka grinned. It wasn’t quite as wide as his usual grin, but he was still thrilled to see the Genin. “I just finished cooking dinner, did you want some?”

“Oh,” the blonde boy scrubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, “Actually I already ate at Ichiraku, but I wanted to come talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Iruka stepped aside, indicating for Naruto to follow him into the apartment. “What did you want to talk about?” He moved from the doorway into the kitchen, the Genin trailing behind him after kicking off his sandals at the door. 

As they reached the kitchen, Naruto spoke up. “Did Kakashi-sensei break up with you?” he asked plainly, barely giving Iruka time to sit down before springing the question on him.

Iruka blinked twice, slowly picking up his chopsticks and taking a bite of his egg-on-rice (ugh, he’d had the pan on too hot and the egg whites were all rubbery and the yolk had been cooked through). “Not exactly,” he said softly. “I broke up with him, actually.”

Naruto frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, the scowl incongruous with his usually sunny disposition. “Why?” he demanded. “You were happy, weren’t you? Both of you were!”

“It’s… complicated,” Iruka said, using his chopsticks to break off a bite-sized piece of rubbery egg white away from the egg and cramming it into his mouth along with a bite of rice. He chewed slowly, pointing to the other chair at his table and raising an eyebrow pointedly at Naruto, who flopped into the chair after a long moment of staring belligerently back at Iruka.

“Why did you do it?” Naruto demanded, looking almost as if Iruka had said he was breaking up with him, not his Jonin-sensei. 

“We had different ideas of what we wanted from the relationship,” Iruka explained carefully. “It just didn’t work out. These things happen, Naruto. It’s not anyone’s fault.”

“But you’re both miserable!” Naruto cried, throwing his hands up in the air, nearly knocking into the table in his exuberance. “Kakashi-sensei has been quiet and grumpy all week, and you looked so sad this afternoon walking home from the Academy!”

Iruka leveled a stare in his direction. “You saw me walking home and didn’t come greet me?”

“I was on my way back to the training field,” Naruto explained quickly. “Otherwise I would have said something, definitely!”

Iurka nodded, taking another bite of rubbery egg. “Good. If you hadn’t said something because you were avoiding me…” he glanced at Naruto, who was already shaking his head in adamant denial.

“I know better than to do that!” he exclaimed, “You always say you’re never too busy to say hello, so I always do!”

Iruka couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face at that. “Huh, so you do listen to me sometimes,” he said softly. “Will wonders never cease?”

“Hey!” Naruto protested, “I listen to you a lot! But that doesn’t mean I always understand you,” he added in an undertone, before his eyes narrowed as he pointed dramatically at Iruka. “Like now! You’re just trying to distract me!”

Iruka wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but there wasn’t any point in saying as much, because Naruto was still going. 

“Why would you break up with him if it makes both of you so sad?” Naruto was shaking his finger in an impressive imitation of when Iruka told him he needed to pay attention in class. “You were happy! You should get back together with Kakashi-sensei!”

Iruka blinked twice, stirring the egg into his rice in a likely vain attempt to hide the rubbery texture. He stared down at the bowl for a long moment before lifting his eyes as he replied, “It’s not that easy, Naruto.”

Naruto scowled at him from the other side of the kitchen table, once more crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, maybe it should be,” he said sulkily.

Iruka wasn’t sure how to answer that, because maybe Naruto was right. Maybe it should be that easy. But he had already learned that he wasn’t right for Kakashi, so all he could think to do was try and stop being miserable. He wasn’t sure why Kakashi was so upset, though. Kakashi had been faking it all along, right? Had it just been an enjoyable diversion and he missed the extra attention? Or had there been something more motivating him? For the first time since this whole thing had begun, Iruka began to re-evaluate the interactions between himself and Kakashi, this time through the lens of someone who might have also been feeling… more. 

It wasn’t right though, Iruka reminded himself. Even if Kakashi had been feeling something, had been gaining something from the relationship, it had still been woefully unbalanced. He’d been right to call things off - Iruka hadn’t been ready for a relationship, and he was slowly beginning to realize that although he hadn’t actually signed up for that, it really had been like a relationship. And Iruka had brought nothing to the table. That wasn’t fair, and no matter how much Kakashi might want to protest that it was fine, it really wasn’t. Iruka didn’t want to be constantly taking advantage of Kakashi. If he was going to turn their farce of a relationship into something real, it had to be intentional. He had to be willing to make the time and effort to make it real.  

Was he ready to take that step? Iruka wasn’t sure.

“You haven’t eaten any more of your dinner, Iruka-sensei,” Naruto said quietly. “Do you want to get ramen instead?”

Iruka blinked hard, looking up from his bowl to glance at Naruto, who was giving him a surprisingly intense look. “It’s fine,” he quickly said, shoveling the rice and egg into his mouth as quickly as he could manage, trying not to think about Kakashi or his own dubious relationship potential. 

“You really did make him happy,” Naruto said quietly, eyes still locked on Iruka. “Happier than I think I’ve ever seen him.”

Iruka swallowed hard, the rice in his throat suddenly seeming to stick a little at the words. “I didn’t do anything,” Iruka said weakly. “Just had dinner with him a few times and… talked to him. It was nothing.”

Naruto’s face darkened slightly. “So going to Ichiraku with me means nothing to you?”

“Of course not!” Iruka gasped, gaping at Naruto. “You know how much I enjoy our time together!”

“But all we do is eat and talk,” Naruto replied, a stubborn tilt to his chin as his eyes continued boring into Iruka. “So by your own logic, it must be nothing.”

“That’s not… it’s different,” Iruka protested. “Kakashi gave me gifts and kept buying things for me but I didn’t buy anything for him.”

“You give me t-shirts and kunai and new sandals and I don’t think I’ve ever gotten you anything,” Naruto shot back instantly. “So does that mean that our relationship is meaningless because I haven’t given you anything?”

“Of course not!” Iruka snapped, slapping his chopsticks down harder than was strictly necessary, picking up his bowl and carrying it to the sink, plunking it down among the rest of the dishes from that day, running the water to let it warm up before he started washing. “But you’re a child, Naruto. I’m an adult. The expectations are different. It’s a completely different situation.”

“If spending time with me is meaningful even if you have to pay most of the money for it, why wouldn’t spending time with Kakashi-sensei be meaningful, even if you don’t pay anything?” Naruto stomped his foot angrily. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“It’s -” Iruka grabbed a sponge, loading it with dish soap and scrubbing angrily at his dinner dish, “- it’s just a different situation,” he repeated.

“How is it different?” Naruto demanded angrily.

“Because it wasn’t real!” Iruka exploded, rinsing the bowl and practically throwing it into the dish drainer. Hearing the loud clank it made when it struck the metallic wire rack, Iruka flinched and stepped away from the sink, recognizing that he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be handling breakable objects. “It wasn’t real, Naruto. That’s why it’s a different situation,” Iruka said, crossing the kitchen and collapsing back into his chair, passing a hand over his face and giving a weary sigh, eyes fixed on his floor, noting the spots of water that had escaped the sink during his violent dish washing. 

He heard the chair across the table from him scoot across the floor softly, followed by a soft rustle of clothes as Naruto sat back down, too. Then, several breaths later, Naruto spoke up, voice tentative. “What do you mean, it wasn’t real?”  

Iruka shut his eyes, sighing again. “We weren’t really dating,” he explained. “I asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend because I kept getting harassed by well-meaning busybodies who thought I needed help finding someone.”

“So you… lied to me?” Naruto asked softly, his voice trembling. “Why?”

Iruka opened his eyes, a smile playing across his lips despite the grimace that kept threatening to overtake it. “When was the last time you successfully kept a secret for more than two hours?” he pointed out.

Naruto grumbled under his breath, folding his arms over his chest, but he eventually admitted, “Okay, fine, I guess I understand why you wouldn’t tell me,” he said begrudgingly. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that if you were both happy then there was no reason to break up just because he was doing more.”

“It was my idea,” Iruka said, “But he was doing all the work. That wasn’t fair, so  I ended it.”

Naruto was eyeing Iruka suspiciously. “So you didn’t end it because you don’t like him, but because you thought you weren’t doing enough?”

Iruka nodded.

“So you… like him?” Naruto prodded, leaning forward slightly. 

Iruka felt a sudden suspicion overtake him. “Naruto. What are you planning? Whatever it is, don’t.”

“I’m just trying to figure out if you and Kakashi-sensei would actually make a good couple,” Naruto protested. “If you were faking it last time, there’s still a chance for you guys!”

Iruka was grateful to hear those words and yet he cursed a little, too. He was already struggling to accept this situation, and Naruto’s insistence on pursuing the matter really wasn’t helping him let go. “I don’t think I’m the right person for Kakashi,” Iruka said. “I can’t-”

“Iruka-sensei,” Naruto interrupted, “We just had a whole conversation about how spending time with someone even if you aren’t doing much of the work can still be a meaningful relationship! So why does that only count for other people? Why do you feel like you have to do everything?”

Iruka blinked, staring at Naruto. It was a valid question, and one was slowly realizing he couldn’t answer. “I… it just doesn’t feel right,” he said. 

“But you enjoyed spending time with Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto pressed. “And you’d like to keep spending time with him?”

Iruka nodded slowly. “Yes…? But only if Kakashi-san was also interested.”

Naruto nodded crisply. “I’ll ask him about you tomorrow.”

“Naruto!” Iruka barked in sudden anxiety, “you will not. Please don’t get involved in this, okay?”

Naruto stared back at Iruka for a long moment before blithely agreeing. “Okay, I won’t.”

Iruka sighed, knowing the boy would do exactly as he pleased and nothing less. “At least try to be discreet, then. I don’t want him thinking that I sent you to ask him because I was too afraid to ask him myself.”

“It would be hard for you to ask him anyway, I’m pretty sure he’s avoiding you,” Naruto replied. “He never used to use the training fields this far away from the Academy, anyway.”

Iruka frowned, “What do you mean?”

Naruto cocked his head, gazing at Iruka. “He… used to have us train on the fields close to the academy, but lately he hasn’t been doing that. That’s all.”

“Lately?” Iruka repeated.

“Since you both became really sad - so I’m guessing that would be since you broke up your fake dating thing,” Naruto explained, leaning back in his chair and spreading his arms wide as he gestured. “Since I guess he didn’t want to risk running into you, he chose a practice field on the complete opposite side of the training grounds. It’s honestly not as good as the one by the academy, but after Sasuke complained and Kakashi-sensei made him run ten laps of the obstacle course, Sakura and I decided we weren’t going to say anything.”

Iruka snorted in amusement at that. “A wise decision.”

Naruto nodded sagely. “I can make good decisions sometimes, if someone else makes the dumb decision first so I can see that it was a bad idea.”

Laughing, Iruka stood, ruffling Naruto’s hair. “That’s one way to learn, I suppose,” he said fondly, moving to the stove and putting the kettle on - he could use a strong cup of tea right about now. “You really don’t have to talk to Kakashi-san about me, you know.”

“I want to, though,” Naruto protested. “Don’t worry, I’ll report back to you what I find out.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Iruka muttered under his breath.

Iruka was a ball of nerves the next morning as he walked to school, poured himself a cup of office dirt water (a poor substitute for real coffee), and arranged his materials for the day’s classes. Part of him was expecting to see Kakashi show up dragging Naruto by his ear and demanding to know why Iruka wasn’t willing to do him the courtesy of being honest. As the day stretched on, Iruka found the tension in him drawing tight, until he felt like he was an overstretched rubber band ready to snap at any moment. 

Once he’d finished chasing the kids out of the room and gathered up his worksheets and the homework assignment that had been turned in that morning, he slung his satchel crosswise over his body and headed home, only to come to an abrupt stop as he stepped outside. There, at the gate, with that damnable book, was none other than Hatake Kakashi. 

Even knowing that Kakashi was definitely here for him, Iruka felt incredibly nervous as he approached the elite Jonin. “Kakashi-san?” he said softly. “How are - ” 

“Are you hungry?” Kakashi interrupted gruffly, voice cold and hard. 

“Oh, uh,” Iruka swallowed hard, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. “Not particularly " 

“Have dinner with me,” Kakashi said, and it didn’t sound like a request. 

“Okay,” Iruka agreed after an almost painfully long pause. 

“This time, you choose where we go,” Kakashi added, his charcoal-dark eye darting up to pierce Iruka with a sharp glare before returning to the icha-icha novel.

Iruka nodded sharply. “Right. Okay. Do you like ramen?” He could use some emotional support for this conversation and ramen was the ultimate comfort food for Iruka. Or should he be thinking about what food would be best for Kakashi? He felt like punching himself. He was already screwing things up again and he’d only been speaking to Kakashi for ten seconds! 

Kakashi shrugged, saying nothing as he lifted his head, a calculating gaze sweeping over Iruka before the lone visible eye settled on his face, narrowing slightly. 

“If you don’t like ramen, we could have something else,” Iruka said nervously, suddenly remembering all the fancy places Kakashi had taken him. He didn’t have the money for that sort of thing, though, so he didn’t really know of any nice places. He barely ever ate out, and when he did it was always cheap and filling! He was panicking again, trying to figure out what the hell Kakashi wanted and terrified that if he guessed wrong the man would start avoiding him again - and when had that become the worst case scenario? Why did it bother him so much that Kakashi wasn’t around? Was he just that selfish, that he now craved all the man’s attention for himself, even when he clearly didn’t deserve it? “I don’t really know many fancy places, but I could try and think of something…” 

Kakashi sighed exasperatedly, shoving the novel into some hidden pouch somewhere and lifting his head to glare at Iruka, who bodily flinched at the reaction, knowing he’d messed up again but not sure how. “I don’t care where we go,” Kakashi said heavily. 

Iruka really didn’t want to have this conversation in public. “We could eat at my apartment,” he suggested, before remembering he’d been moping around all week and the place was a disaster. He immediately wished he could hit his head against the academy gates and knock himself out in a vain attempt to avoid this painfully awkward conversation. 

Kakashi lifted his eyebrow, appearing faintly curious. “Oh?” he asked. “What will we be having?”

Iruka stared back at him for what felt like a lifetime before he finally answered lamely, “Actually I was just going to pick up a grocery store bento, they’re usually half-price at this time, and I can’t cook, so…”

Snorting softly, Kakashi ducked his head, shaking it back and forth before lifting his head once more to stare at Iruka with skepticism. Iruka wasn’t sure if the jonin was laughing at Iruka or despairing for him, and either way, it didn’t really feel nice. 

“Look,” Iruka said, “why don’t we just… look around the grocery store and see what sounds good?”

“Is that how you usually do your shopping?” Kakashi asked, sounding genuinely curious despite the judgemental construction of his question.

Not sure how to answer that his usual shopping consisted of eggs, rice, premade foods, and frozen food, Iruka shrugged. “I didn’t really have anything in mind for dinner tonight.” He should have just stuck with the ramen, but Kakashi had seemed like he didn’t want to eat ramen and Iruka was panicking at this point. Why the hell had he invited Kakashi back to his apartment when it was even more of a mess than the last time and he was no better at cooking than the last time Kakashi had been there? Well, except for one thing. “I could, uh, make some eggplant miso soup?” Iruka suggested with a weak smile.

Kakashi’s brow lifted in response. “Oh?”

“And rice,” Iruka added. “And I could probably fry some eggs? Anything else is, uh… challenging.”

“I could help,” Kakashi offered mildly. “I don’t mind cooking.”

Iruka accepted the offer, trying not to sound as relieved as he felt to finally get a positive response from the jonin. “That would be a huge help, actually, thank you.”

Kakashi nodded, spinning on his heel and starting to walk, apparently expecting Iruka to follow. He did, but it was still a bit awkward to have Kakashi just walk away mid-conversation. “What kind of meat do you want to eat?” Kakashi asked, glancing over at Iruka as he walked. 

Iruka considered the question. Beef was so expensive, he only had it about once every two weeks or so, and even then, it was always the cheap cuts. “I usually eat chicken, since it’s the cheapest,” Iruka answered honestly, “But I’m fine with anything.”

“Chicken is good,” Kakashi said, almost amiably. “How do you want to eat it? Stir fried? Simmered? In a hotpot?”

“I know it’s pretty simple, but I do like oyakodon,” Iruka admitted. “Would you mind terribly if we had that?”

“I like oyakodon,” Kakashi replied, glancing over at Iruka. “Do you still have the kelp and the dried bonito flakes?”

Iruka nodded. “Yes, and I have eggs already, too.”

Appearing momentarily lost in thought, Kakashi nodded absently. “It shouldn’t take too many more ingredients, then.”

Iruka hoped not, or he’d have trouble remembering the recipe. He’d been able to remember how to make rice the way Kakashi taught him, and he’d attempted the miso soup once more since the time he and Kakashi had made it together. It hadn’t tasted as good, but Iruka wasn’t sure if that was because he was a bad cook or just because he missed Kakashi when he ate it. Either way, he was looking forward to this meal, even if it ended up being the last meal made by Kakashi that he ever got to eat. The man was an amazing cook and Iruka had missed eating with him. Even though they hadn’t gone out to eat that many times, he still missed the company. Eating by himself had felt so much more lonely after knowing just how nice it was to eat with another person. 

He’d also forgotten that it was a lot nicer to shop with someone than it was just shopping by himself. Kakashi puttered through the various market produce stalls, once more explaining to Iruka what to look for, and checking to see if he remembered anything from the last time they’d shopped together. They stopped by a butcher, picking out some nice boneless chicken thighs with the skin still on, and then made their way back to Iruka’s place.

“I feel like I really need to give you a disclaimer,” Iruka said as they carried the groceries up to his apartment, “it’s really a mess this time - worse than before, even.”

“It wasn’t that bad before,” Kakashi replied, “I’m sure it’s fine.”

It wasn’t, but Iruka wasn’t sure how much he could denigrate himself without it sounding like he didn’t want Kakashi to come, and he really did want Kakashi to join him for dinner.  “Okay,” he said, but his tone said fairly clearly that he didn’t quite trust Kakashi’s assessment of his cleanliness. 

They made their way inside, Iruka reminding himself to set out the guest slippers more quickly this time, remembering that Kakashi had selected the dark blue ones before. The two of them made their way to Iruka’s kitchen, where he remembered that he hadn’t washed any dishes in two days - except for the one he’d nearly broken the night before when speaking to Naruto.

“Oh no,” he said as he stepped in, half wishing he’d forgotten to give Kakashi the guest slippers again. He wanted to block off the kitchen, but it was too late, he could feel the Jonin’s presence at his back and the kitchen looked terrible. There were dishes piled in the sink, spilling out onto the counter, even. His kitchen table still had his dishes from breakfast sitting on it, he wanted to sink into the floor and disappear from view it was so embarrassing. “I completely forgot how bad it was, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, turning to gaze at Kakashi, who was studying Iruka with a quirked eyebrow.

“It’s just dishes,” Kakashi said mildly, “They’re not going to bite.”

“I’m still embarrassed,” Iruka said, “I should be better about keeping these things neat.”

“Maa, sensei, you work two jobs and seem to think you need to have it all together,” Kakashi replied, “It’s okay to let things slide sometimes, you know.”

“It’s not right, though,” Iruka said, scowling as he marched to the sink and began pulling dishes out and arranging them to wash. “And now I’m making you wait for your dinner even though I’m the one who suggested we come here-”

He was cut off by the gentle clinking of dishes being arranged, and he turned to see Kakashi helping him stack his dirty plates. 

“What are you doing?” he yelped, fighting down the urge to tear the plates out of Kakashi’s hands. 

“Helping,” Kakashi replied, reaching past Iruka and pulling another wobbly pile of dishes out of the sink. “They’ll get done faster that way.”

“But - but they’re not your responsibility, I’m supposed to -”

“Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi interrupted, pausing mid-transfer, a pile of dishes in his hands as he stared at Iruka with a narrowed eye. “You seem to be under the impression that I’m afraid of hard work. I assure you, that isn’t the case.”

Iruka gaped at Kakashi. “That’s ridiculous! I know you work very hard for the village, and you are an excellent teacher to Naruto and team seven! Of course you’re a hard worker, I just don’t think you need to do my work for me.”

“Let me put it this way, then,” Kakashi said, setting the pile of dishes down and reaching over Iruka to turn the faucet on, turning the handle so it was completely set to the hot water setting. “I’d rather work with you than sit back and watch you work alone.”

“But it’s not your responsibility,” Iruka tried to explain, eyes pricking with tears of frustration. “I should be able to do it myself.”

“Is it a crime if you can’t?” Kakashi asked, sounding genuinely baffled. “I assure you, there have been times in my life when I barely had the wherewithal to drag myself out of bed. I’ve had to throw away a lot of tupperware containers so full of mold that Gai refused to let me put anything else in them ever again. There have been times my apartment was so full of dust that I couldn’t take my mask off without a sneezing fit.” He turned to fully face Iruka. “There’s no shame in needing a break, Iruka-sensei. I’m in a good place, now. I want to help, and I certainly don’t resent you for needing it.”

Iruka broke their locked gazes, turning to stare at the hot water filling the sink. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” he said softly. “I’m not doing anything terribly difficult. It’s just teaching and the mission desk, it’s not like I’m on active duty or-”

“Does it matter?” Kakashi interrupted, reaching out, his hand hovering over Iruka’s like he wanted to grab it but wasn’t sure if he was allowed. “You’re tired. You don’t feel like you have time for anything in your life beyond what you’re doing now. You’re burned out. Does it really matter so much to you that it’s not missions that are wearing you out? Because it doesn’t matter to me.”

Iruka was actually genuinely going to cry in front of Kakashi and they still hadn’t washed the dishes or started cooking dinner and the groceries were sitting on the counter and the chicken needed to be cooked or refrigerated and he just felt so overwhelmed, and, and - he was really going to cry, wasn’t he? “It’s not supposed to be hard, though,” he said. “I thought… getting older, things are supposed to get easier, right? I don’t understand why it’s so hard.”  

Now Kakashi did grab Iruka’s hand, holding it tight and giving it a squeeze. “Life isn’t that simple, Iruka-sensei. Everyone needs a little support from time-to-time. And I… I would be honored, if you’d let me be someone like that for you.” 

What? Iruka blinked hard, desperately forcing back the tears before glancing up at Kakashi. “What do you mean?” he asked, voice soft even as his chest ballooned with hope. 

Kakashi continued holding Iruka’s hand with one of his own, the other reaching up to scratch at the back of his head. “Maa, to be honest, Iruka-sensei… I’ve very much enjoyed spending time with you. And Naruto always has stories about you, and I… I just wanted to get to know you better. That’s why I invited you to dinner in the first place.”

Iruka frowned. “I thought you said it was to repay me for giving you my dinner.”

Kakashi’s cheek - or, what was visible of it, anyway, grew pink. “Maa, it was a convenient excuse. I’d been hoping for one for a while, actually.”

Iruka frowned, trying to process this information. “So you… wanted to ask me to dinner before I gave you my bento?”

Kakashi nodded. “That is what I said,” he answered, the visible corner of his face going from flushed to a bright red. “I just… never seemed to find the right words to ask.”

“I mean, you could have just suggested grabbing dinner,” Iruka said faintly. “It worked the first time.”

Kakashi picked up Iruka’s bottle of dish soap, pouring some onto his sponge. “I worried that you’d refuse.”

Iruka considered that. “I might have,” he admitted after a moment. “I am busy, and I… well, let’s face it, I really didn’t do so well with things once you did take me to dinner-”

Kakashi looked like he was contemplating throwing the soapy sponge at Iruka. Instead, he scooted Iruka aside, picking up one of the dishes in the sink and scrubbing furiously. “I keep trying to tell you, you didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know why you insist on putting so much pressure on yourself.” He rinsed the plate before handing it to Iruka. 

Accepting the dripping dish, Iruka grabbed a towel and wiped it off, putting it away as he considered Kakashi’s words. “I suppose, since I asked you for such a huge favor, I felt bad about continuing to impose on you,” Iruka explained. “And I felt like the more you did for me, the more I would have to make up to you, later.” 

“Is that why you still haven’t used the rice cooker?” Kakashi asked, glancing up from the sudsy dishes to stare pointedly at the appliance, still in the box.

“Oh,” Iruka accepted another wet dish from Kakashi, wiping it absently. “I suppose so. I just didn’t understand why you would give me something so expensive when it didn’t really do anything to visibly maintain the illusion.”

Kakashi barked a sharp laugh. “I guess I didn’t think that one through too well, did I?”

“I was touched that you thought of it,” Iruka said, “but I felt like I didn’t deserve it, you know?”

“I really don’t know what you mean,” Kakashi told him, scrubbing at some egg on the bottom of Iruka’s frying pan, “do you have to deserve gifts?”

“I don’t know,” Iruka replied honestly. “Normally I’d say that would defeat the purpose of a gift, but you weren’t really dating me, so I didn’t really treat it like I would a normal gift.”

“So if I was dating you, you’d use it?” Kakashi asked, his gaze sliding over to rest on Iruka as he passed him the clean frying pan before picking up a teacup and scrubbing it absently as he continued to watch Iruka.

“Of course!” Iruka protested. “I’d never want you to think I didn’t like it!”

“Why does our relationship status make a difference, then?” Kakashi asked, rinsing out the teacup and handing it to Iruka before picking up a handful of chopsticks and scrubbing them, too. “Whether we’re dating or not, didn’t you think I’d be disappointed that you didn’t like my gift?”

“I didn’t know you’d care that much,” Iruka said sheepishly. “I thought you were just doing this as a favor to me, I didn’t think much beyond that, if I’m being honest.”

“Hm,” Kakashi said, handing over the chopsticks and sudsing up a bowl. “I’d appreciate it if you used it, then. I bought it for you because I wanted you to have it, not because I thought it would make our false relationship look more authentic.”

Iruka nodded. “Do you want to use it for dinner tonight?”

Kakashi glanced over at Iruka, a small smile causing his eye to crinkle up in a soft half-moon shape. “I’d like that,” he replied.

“Okay, we’ll do that, then,” Iruka decided, accepting the bowl from Kakashi and stowing it on the proper dish shelf after giving it a quick wipe with his dishtowel. 

Despite the unfamiliar recipe, cooking with Kakashi felt oddly familiar. After they finished washing up the dishes, Kakashi walked Iruka through how to set up the rice cooker, and they set the rice to cooking. They chopped the chicken into small, bite-size chunks, then chopped some onions into long thin slices. Kakashi walked Iruka through making homemade dashi again, and then they set the chicken to simmering in a sweet mirin-and-dashi broth. They added the onions and covered it to let it simmer a bit. While they waited, Iruka offered to make some tea, and Kakashi accepted, slouching down in one of the chairs at Iruka’s table.  Absently, Iruka thought that if Kakashi was going to make a habit of visiting he’d need a third chair in case Naruto ever decided to drop in at the same time. 

He shook his head sharply, trying to dislodge the thought as he filled his kettle with water and set it to boil. Just because Kakashi had invited him to dinner so the two of them could talk through their awkward fake-breakup didn’t mean he planned on coming back to visit again. Assuming something like that would just be setting Iruka up for disappointment, and he was trying to avoid that. 

“Black tea or green?” Iruka asked, lifting the two boxes. “Or I have roasted green tea, too,” he added as an afterthought. 

“Green, please,” Kakashi requested.

Iruka put a green tea bag in each of the teacups, pouring the hot water over the bags before setting one down in front of Kakashi, sinking into the other chair and gazing across the table at the formidable man seated across from him. “I do want to apologize for springing the fake-breakup on you so suddenly,” he said awkwardly. “I didn’t really think about how it might sound to you. I really am grateful for all of your help, and the way I approached it made it seem like I didn’t appreciate all that you’ve done for me, and I really do appreciate it.”

“I’m glad you appreciate it,” Kakashi said, wrapping his hands around his teacup as if to warm them, not lifting it from the table. “But if I’m being perfectly honest, that wasn’t why I was upset.”

Iruka considered that. “Is it because I told you, instead of asking? I can see how disrespecting your input would have been rude of me, too. I really wasn’t thinking straight,” he admitted. “I am sorry about that, too. I made a real mess of things,” he added ruefully, taking a sip of the tea and wincing as the hot water scalded his tongue. 

“True, some communication or an attempt to talk things over would have probably improved the situation somewhat,” Kakashi said in a mild, if somewhat stilted tone. “But that’s also not what upset me.”

Iruka wracked his brain, trying to figure out what else he’d done to hurt Kakashi with the abrupt breakup. “I really didn’t mean to make it sound like I was breaking up with you because you had the audacity to give me a gift,” he said, his face heating as he remembered how accusatory he’d been when facing down Kakashi. 

“Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi said then, his gaze locked on his teacup, “That’s not… I wasn’t upset with how you said it. It’s the fact that you said it at all.” 

Iruka blinked, not sure what he meant by that. “The fact that I said it? Said what, that we should break up?”

“Yes,” Kakashi said, his voice strangely tense. “I… I was happy, Iruka-sensei. With you. I suppose I was hoping… you know, if I did enough, if I could just show you what I’m capable of, if I could put in enough effort, maybe I could be enough for you. Be a real candidate, and not just a low-effort stand-in.” His fingers gripped the teacup so tightly Iruka momentarily caught himself hoping the poor ceramic didn’t shatter in his grasp. Then the Jonin’s words began to sink in.

“What do you mean, a real candidate?” Iruka asked softly. “You mean you…” he couldn’t say it. Suddenly, the words Kakashi had spoken in the forest after Iruka asked him to break up made so much more sense. What was it he’d said, exactly? “You may not have been good to me, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t good for ne,” Iruka murmured quietly, frowning. 

“Genuinely, I enjoyed our time together,” Kakashi said, nodding to acknowledge what Iruka had repeated. “Walking to the mission desk with you, bringing you coffee, cooking…” he gestured to the stove, where the chicken and onions were still simmering. “It felt like a slap in the face, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it like I was.”

Iruka recoiled as though struck. That wasn’t true at all! “I definitely enjoyed it!” he protested. “I… I enjoyed it too much, actually,” he confessed, setting his teacup aside and running a hand across his head, smoothing down a few flyaway hairs before setting his hands down in his lap, fumbling his fingers together. “I wanted more than I’d bargained for,” he admitted, suddenly unable to drag his eyes away from his tangled fingers. “I… you were so good to me, Kakashi. And I was supposed to keep faking things when you were sweeping me off my feet for real. It… hurt.”

“Sweeping you off your feet?” Kakashi repeated, voice low and burning with intensity. 

“It didn’t seem fair,” Iruka said, still staring at his hands. “Keeping you all to myself when you had so much to give and deserved so much more.”

“I already told you, I don’t need-” 

Iruka cut him off, exasperated. “Not like that,” he said sharply, lifting his eyes to glare at Kakashi. “I mean I… you deserved to love and be loved, and I didn’t think…” He gestured at his shabby kitchen dramatically. “Look at me, look at this house. I don’t deserve-”

Kakashi lunged across the table, grabbing Iruka’s hands, tugging them closer, his visible eye boring into Iruka’s. “What are you saying?” he asked, voice trembling. “You mean you broke up with me because you didn’t want me? Or because - ?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me,” Iruka answered simply, gazing back at Kakashi with equal intensity. “I wanted to leave so that you would be able to pursue someone who could give you everything you deserve - their time, their attention, their… love.” Kakashi’s grip on his hands tightened slightly.

“And you… you don’t think you could give me that,” he said, voice strained.

“More that I didn’t think you’d want it from me,” Iruka explained, trying not to think about how much of his hand he was showing here. “I’m not exactly a good match for you, you know?”

Kakashi’s expression darkened, his lone eye narrowing as he half-growled, “Let me be the judge of that.”

Iruka swallowed hard, genuinely surprised at how strongly Kakashi seemed to feel about that. “Oh. Okay.” He gazed down at his hands, still caught in Kakashi’s grasp. “So… is that something you’d be interested in? A real relationship? With me?”

“I thought you didn’t have time for a boyfriend,” Kakashi replied awkwardly, hesitantly, his gaze searching.

“I think I can make an exception,” Iruka said, smiling at Kakashi and lifting his hands, drawing Kakashi’s knuckles to his lips, daring to drop a soft kiss there before raising his eyes to meet Kakashi’s gaze. The man was bright red under his mask, and looked like he may be having trouble breathing. It made Iruka feel powerful, knowing that such a small gesture could mean so much.

He was starting to think he understood why Kakashi had so enjoyed doing all those little things like bringing him coffee and walking to the mission desk with him. If he could get Kakashi to blush like that more often, he wouldn’t mind putting in a little extra effort, either. 

“Glad to hear it,” Kakashi breathed, then stood abruptly. “We should probably add the eggs now, or we’ll never finish this oyakodon.”

Iruka stood too, blinking in surprise. He’d nearly forgotten about their dinner after such an emotionally-charged moment. “Oh. Okay. How many eggs?”

The evening continued, the two of them much more at ease with one another after their conversation. Iruka marveled at how Kakashi managed to churn out restaurant-quality food from a home kitchen, and Kakashi seemed to marvel at Iruka’s very presence, which Iruka was finding he could get accustomed to. 

After a nice dinner and a cup or two of tea, it wasn’t until Kakashi was making his leave that Iruka finally found his nerve to ask Kakashi the question that had been burning at him all night. “So, to clarify, we really are dating, yes?”

“If you want to, then I’m not opposed,” Kakashi replied, slipping on his sandals and lifting a curious eyebrow in Iruka’s direction as he popped open Iruka’s door, stepping out into the cool night air. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that,” Iruka said, tugging on his own sandals and following him out, glancing up at the sky before returning his gaze to Kakashi, “since we’re officially dating now, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do for ages, ever since we had sushi that one night.”

“Oh yes,” Kakashi smiled, his eye once more curving into a half-moon. “That was a nice dinner, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Iruka agreed, glancing up at the half-moon in the sky before leaning a little closer, his body nearly touching Kakashi’s. 

“What did you want to do?” Kakashi asked, voice dropping into a deeper register that hummed with interest. 

Iruka rose onto his tiptoes, barely brushing his lips across Kakashi’s mask. “Kiss you goodnight,” he breathed, and was quite taken aback when a strong arm wrapped around his waist, drawing him in closer moments before soft, warm lips pressed against his own. Part of him registered that Kakashi had somehow managed to remove his mask in that one instant before their lips crashed together. Then he was too busy kissing back to really think about it more. He moaned, running his hands up Kakashi’s chest, pressing closer, darting his tongue against the Jonin’s lips -

“Ew! Gross! Why are you guys doing this outside?! I shouldn’t have said anything to him, pervert-sensei’s already infected you, Iruka-sensei!”

With a gasp, Iruka pulled back, noting that Kakashi’s mask was somehow already back in place before they were even fully turned around to face the boy. 

“I can’t believe you’re just kissing in the open like that!” Naruto scowled at Kakashi, then Iruka, then back to Kakashi. “So this is the thanks I get for all my hard work? You two sucking each others’ faces off?”

Iruka was far too embarrassed to bother correcting that factually devoid statement, instead grabbing the boy by the collar and dragging him to his apartment door. “Thank you again for dinner, Kakashi-san,” he said, “it was delicious.”

“Mm,” Kakashi agreed, with a slow blink that Iruka could have almost sworn was meant to be a wink,   “it was delicious.”

“You two are so gross,” Naruto declared, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the scowl he was fighting to keep on his face.

“Have you eaten?” Iruka asked Naruto, shoving him in the direction of his apartment. 

“No, that’s why I was coming over here - I didn’t think you’d find him so fast, Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto added, craning his neck to eye the Jonin. “I just talked about Iruka being lonely this morning, and you’re already kissing? I’ve got my eye on you, pervy-sensei.” He narrowed his bright blue eyes in Kakashi’s direction. “You’re lucky I’m a forgiving man.”

Iruka resisted the urge to facepalm, but only just. “Thank you for the lovely evening,” he said, turning and shoving Naruto in the direction of the door a bit harder than the first time. “Go on in, there’s oyakodon inside, serve yourself a bowl.”

“Not until you come with, I don’t trust you with him after all that gross stuff,” Naruto protested.

Iruka gave Kakashi a helpless look, and the man simply returned his look with one of his patented eye-smiles. “He’s probably right not to trust me,” he said. “I might not let you get back inside for a while yet.”

“Gross, gross, gross!” Naruto repeated, but he was smiling so wide that Iruka really couldn’t take it personally. 

“All right. I’ll see you around, then,” he said, following Naruto back to his door. 

“See you around, Iruka-sensei,” Kakshi replied, before disappearing in a burst of leaves.

“You know what the worst part was?” Naruto said, standing just inside Iruka’s door, having exchanged his sandals for house slippers. 

Iruka fought the urge to chuckle as he followed the boy inside, shutting the apartment door and locking it, exchanging his own sandals for house slippers. “What was the worst part?” he asked tiredly.

“I still didn’t get to see Kakashi-sensei’s face because it was all covered up with your face!” Naruto complained, shuffling into the kitchen and grabbing a bowl. “Next time I see you kissing, you gotta make sure that your face is on the opposite side of his head, okay?”

Iruka raised an eyebrow. “Next time?”

Naruto paused, rice paddle poised over the rice cooker. “What, was the kiss that bad?”

Iruka laughed. “No, it definitely wasn’t.”

“I don’t want details,” Naruto said quickly, piling rice into his bowl, “I’m just saying. If I catch you kissing again, you gotta make it easier for me to see his face.”

Iruka made a vaguely distressed sound. “I really don’t want to be thinking about you when I’m kissing my boyfriend. No offense, Naruto.”

Naruto made a face, scooping up a large serving of the simmered chicken, egg and onion. “Ew, yeah, I don’t want you thinking about me while you’re kissing perv-sensei eith- wait.” He ladled the mixture over his rice before glancing up at Iruka. “Real boyfriend, or fake-boyfriend?”

“Real boyfriend,” Iruka said with a smile.

“Good,” Naruto declared, ladling a second scoop of chicken over his rice before carrying it to the table. “Man, this smells great.”

“Kakashi-san helped cook,” Iruka said with a smile.

“Oh yeah? On second thought, you gotta invite him over more often, this stuff is great,” Naruto declared, shoveling the food into his mouth. Iruka wasn’t sure how well he could taste it when he was eating it that fast, but… oh well. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, sitting down in his own chair and pouring himself another cup of tea. “So, how was your day?”

“Well,” Naruto said, puffing out his chest, “I pretended to be all depressed this morning, and told Kakashi-sensei it was because I thought that you were lonely and I didn’t know what to do…”