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1.
The graveyard squelches in the rain. Gai peeks out from under his umbrella. He can't see much further than his feet. The path to the memorial is shiny and wet, and weeds grow valiantly along the edge. It's a summer rain, almost warm. Gai's chest is sticky with sweat. He lifts the umbrella higher as he ascends the steps, and there is Kakashi, soaked through. He's shivering. He must have been here a while.
Gai hadn't expected to find him anywhere else.
"Here you are, my Esteemed Rival!"
Kakashi doesn't respond. He doesn't even acknowledge the greeting, but he rarely does. If there's an expression on his face, then it's hidden by his water-logged hair. It covers his eyes like half melted snow. His headband is under there somewhere. His sharingan is under there.
Gai wonders what it sees. He's not sure Kakashi is seeing anything right now. Anniversaries are the worst time of year. The memorial stone immortalises so many.
Gai shrugs out of his jōnin jacket. He's careful not to drop the umbrella, but not careful enough. Water tips from the top, slapping down onto the pedestal. It sounds like an explosive tag igniting. Kakashi visibly jolts.
"Sorry, sorry!" Gai cries. He jams the umbrella between his shoulder and neck, then drapes the jacket over Kakashi's back.
Kakashi hardly seems to notice it at first. His shirt is black from the rain. Water drips from his chin. Then his shoulders bunch up, seeking the unexpected warmth. He clutches the zipper. The collar sticks up in front of his jaw and he presses his face into it. He keeps shivering, but with Gai's umbrella blocking the worst of the weather, the shakes start to subside.
"What do you want?"
"I was looking for you!" Gai announces with a grin.
Kakashi sighs. He scrubs his face with a wet sleeve and sniffs. His throat is clogged. It sounds like there's rain in his voice. "But what do you want?"
"I'm making curry for dinner."
"Great," Kakashi says, with the enthusiasm of a rock.
Gai hasn't been Kakashi's Eternal Rival for so many years to be dissuaded. "My papa's favourite," he adds, wiggling his eyebrows. It helps to emphasise the hopeful gleam in his eyes.
Kakashi levels him with a long, hard look. He looks like something his dogs chewed and spat out. Gai doesn't allow his heart to falter at the glare, and is rewarded for it. After a moment, Kakashi ducks his eyes behind Gai's jacket. The inside isn't much to look at - but it's better than the memorial stone.
"Tofu?"
"Of course! Wanna make it with me?"
"Make it for you, you mean," Kakashi says, but it sounds like he's smirking. He picks idly at threads on Gai's jacket as though searching for a reason to argue. He won't find one because papa's curry is the best, and Gai's chest swells.
"I'm improving! I bet my curry's just as good as yours!"
Kakashi scoffs.
"It is!" Gai stresses. He strikes an invigorating pose, dumping more rain from the umbrella. It misses Kakashi this time, spattering over the memorial stone. They both wince and then Gai laughs. "If you don't believe me, then I challenge you to find out! My apartment! Imminently! Ningame can taste test!"
"Pakkun can taste test."
"He's biased!"
"And Ningame isn't?" Kakashi drawls, rising. He smacks the umbrella away. The padded shoulders of Gai's jacket jut out from his neck like tortoise shells. He looks a bit ridiculous but he doesn't remove it, and Gai doesn't ask for it back. It's doing its duty just fine. "Race you there, then. Winner gets to summon."
Gai cheers. "On three then! And no funny business! One, two -"
Kakashi's hand darts past his face.
"Three!" Gai cries, and the umbrella snaps shut around his head.
2.
Gai's couch has more cushions than he remembers. There's a big lump rolled up against the armrest, the size of four normal cushions stitched together. He blinks at it sleepily, not sure what the time is, and switches on the light. The lump groans and curls further into the couch. It's green and vaguely cabbage-shaped, and sprouts a pair of legs. The sound it makes isn't human. Gai stares at it long enough to yawn.
The lump yawns back. It isn't a cushion at all.
"Kakashi?"
Kakashi's face appears, dog-tired and sucked into a drawstring hood. Tufts of his hair poke out from underneath like pale bananas. He squints in the light like a particularly disgruntled kitten, as though this is his apartment, or his couch. He doesn't appear to be wearing a mask - or any trousers. "DO YOUR BEST" is slathered across his hoodie in gigantic text.
"What?" Kakashi grumbles. His eyes are bloodshot - both of them. It's not a good look for the sharingan.
There's so much going on here that Gai can't make sense of it all. "Is that my hoodie?"
He's sure it is. Kakashi would never wear something so motivating. And green.
"Not anymore," Kakashi replies. "Bisuke peed on it."
"I did not!" cries the hoodie. Bisuke's head pops out of the neck-hole, slamming into Kakashi's chin. Someone makes a pained noise, and Gai thinks it's him.
"Bull was trying to eat it!" Bisuke argues. "That's why it's wet."
Kakashi sniffs a sleeve. "I don't think I believe you."
"That's definitely my hoodie," Gai says.
Kakashi shoots him a dubious look. It's awfully scary with his ghastly expression. "You want it back?"
Gai considers. He considers for so long that Kakashi starts to drift off, head sliding forward. Only, something seems to be preventing him from falling asleep, and it might be Bisuke yelping each time their heads collide.
Gai switches the light off. Then switches it back on.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking if this is real," Gai says. Bisuke laughs.
"Of course this is real. Could a fake person do this?" Kakashi flings up the bottom of his hoodie and Bisuke tumbles out, landing in a heap on the floor. Then he stretches it over his knees to resume the cabbage position. He laughs like a dying animal and then drops off to sleep without word or warning, completely, miraculously at once.
Gai stares at him for a long minute, wondering if this is a trick. Then he presses his fingers into Kakashi's neck to check for a pulse.
"He's had so much coffee," Bisuke laments, and Gai says ah. "But it's okay, he'll sleep it off! Can I sleep in your room tonight, Gai? Please? He gets so weird on caffeine. And he's gonna be so grouchy in the morning. I don't know how to deal with that!"
Gai can see that. He pats Bisuke's head, trying not to laugh. He doesn’t quite manage to hold it in, and a panicked look from Bisuke has Gai sucking in his lips. Luckily, Kakashi does not wake. He huffs in his sleep like an old dog. He’s curled into himself so tightly that Gai’s hoodie now reads “DEST”.
Gai shakes his head fondly and sets off to find a blanket.
3.
“Have we met before, my friend?” Gai asks. He rubs his chin, trying to marry a name and a face. The man before him feels familiar, but in the way puzzle pieces promise a picture, but are individually too jumbled to make sense. Gai’s never been very good at faces, anyway.
“I shouldn’t think so,” says the man, eyes closing with a smile. Purple markings cover his eyelids and cheeks, like stripes of paint from a heavy-handed brush. They remind Gai of clan markings he once knew. They distract him from looking at the man’s eyes too closely. There’s something in this stranger’s face that forces Gai’s gaze away. “But it’s a pleasure. Sukea.”
The man holds out his hand. A camera hangs around his neck, and beneath it, a scarf. It’s autumn in Konoha and the weather is lovely. Sukea’s draping, green coat is an odd choice, and something about it, too, fills Gai with familiarity. The colour is reminiscent of his childhood. The buttons are wooden and worn with age. Gai doesn’t care much for fashion, but he appreciates practical clothing in all forms, and Sukea’s coat is made to last. It’s old, in fact. And as his students would say, dated.
Gai has an identical coat in the back of his wardrobe. At least, usually he does.
He shakes Sukea’s hand. “I am Maito Gai! Are you a traveller? What brings you to Konoha?”
Sukea’s smile wavers self-consciously. He fiddles with the lens of his camera. The sleeves of his coat are stiff and wide, and they sit stubbornly in place around his wrists. The coat is far too big. The scarf is too long. Even Sukea’s dark hair looks out-of-place, and Gai struggles to pinpoint why.
His eyes slide away from Sukea’s again. Gai takes note of the mole instead, just a speck on Sukea’s chin. His hair is longer at the back, and mop-brown. He could be Gai’s age. He could be Rin’s.
“I’m a photographer,” Sukea says. He could be her brother. Maybe he is, one way or another. “But I’m nothing special. I suppose you could call it a hobby? The world is different behind a camera. Slower. But I’m probably not making sense.”
“You’re making perfect sense! Everybody needs a hobby. I like to knit in my spare time!”
“I’ll have to try it,” Sukea says. He twirls a lock of hair, faintly embarrassed. He shifts his weight as though trying to flee.
Gai will let him go, if he does. A strange civilian is no threat to the village - especially if he’s stolen Gai’s coat. Only one person would ransack his clothes.
Kakashi probably doesn’t know it, but the coat isn’t even Gai’s.
It’s his papa’s.
Gai smiles, imagining his papa laughing at the sight. Green isn’t Kakashi’s colour at all.
4.
"Don't go passing out on me," Kakashi says, somewhere above the haze of steam and relaxation. He's a lobster-pink blob in Gai's periphery, wrapped up in a white yukata. The hot spring defeated him some time ago (a point for Gai!) and he laughs as Gai sinks deeper into the bath.
"I will not," Gai says, although the hot flush across his face suggests otherwise. It's hard to argue against such bliss. The heat has never bothered him, especially since the war. He revels in the opportunity to rest his old bones.
"You will," Kakashi argues, pottering about somewhere. He's not supposed to be wearing his slippers on the stone, but Gai can hear them shuffling. "I'll have to fish you out. Or call for help. Would you like that? You know how fussy the ANBU are."
Gai knows that Kakashi can carry a full-grown man for the better part of a day. He also knows the ANBU are particularly protective of Kakashi, who's spent many years as Hokage escalating himself into trouble. They're a permanent presence in Gai's life now, and he doesn't doubt that a squad has followed them on their trip.
"We should invite them to dine with us tonight," Gai says, smiling at the thought. He drifts happily in the heat, imagining their hotel room filled with food and comrades. He cherishes his time with Kakashi, of course, but there's nothing quite like sharing a meal with many friends.
Water laps at Gai's chin. He can taste sweat around his mouth. It drips from his hair and over his eyelids. He doesn't remember closing his eyes, but there's no war, no missions, no students to protect. It's safe. He sighs contentedly, vaguely recalling a warning not to fall asleep.
His thoughts of dinner drift away to a dizzying nothing.
"Gai. Gai.” Kakashi’s voice cuts through the haze. He doesn't sound alarmed, only amused, but the call repeats with a gentle urgency. Gai peels his eyes open; and Kakashi is a noticeably less pink blob in his vision now, lounged across the wooden bench by the bath. He looks snug, wrapped up in a huge yukata. Gai yawns.
“Fear not, I am awake.”
Kakashi laughs. “Sure you are, old man.” His head tips back in challenge - or invitation. Even after all these years, Gai isn’t sure there’s a difference.
Gai heaves himself out of the bath. He grabs a towel for modesty, although there is no-one else around. Kakashi’s eyes linger appreciatively, only rising to Gai’s face when they are near enough to kiss. And they do. Gai is blisteringly warm from the spring, and Kakashi is near-ice in comparison. His yukata is soft and dry, and Gai buries his hands into it, leaving wet handprints in the fabric, and wet kisses on Kakashi’s lips. Kakashi smiles, revealing a peek of dangerous teeth. Gai kisses him again before it becomes a smirk.
“You’re dripping on me,” Kakashi says, not sounding mad about it. He kisses a dizzying sigh from Gai’s mouth. His fingers trace the edge of Gai’s towel, a mere breath from indecent.
As loath as he is to deny Kakashi anything, Gai steps away. “I will get dressed.”
“Pity,” Kakashi says. His gaze follows Gai into the changing room. It’s heavy; expectant, rather than forlorn.
The tips of Gai’s ears burn. He peeks into the room, relieved to see it vacant of other guests. Feet slipping, he hurries to dry off and redress - only to find his belongings devoid of the hotel-standard yukata. It should be white and logoed, and easy to spot. Gai checks under the bench. Then he checks the other benches. He holds his little towel tighter around himself desperately, remembering Kakashi’s smile.
“Rival,” he calls, already knowing the answer. He pops his head around the door. “I seem to have misplaced my yukata."
"Hmm," Kakashi says, procuring a book from nowhere. "Have you?"
So this is the game they're playing. Very well.
"You wouldn't happen to know where it went, my dear?" Gai asks.
"Nope. Maybe something happened to it."
Gai can guess what happened to it. "I see."
"What a shame."
He tries not to smile. "A shame, huh?"
"Yep. Would be a shame if something happened to that towel, too."
Gai blushes. He spins around to check that no-one else has entered the baths, increasingly aware that it is such a little towel. It feels like it shrinks under Kakashi’s gaze. Gai certainly isn't self-conscious about his body, but no-one wants an eye-full of his ass. Except Kakashi, of course, who looks awfully chuffed with himself, sparkling with either sweat or mirth, perhaps both.
"This is a public bath," Gai squawks, trying to salvage some responsibility.
Kakashi’s eyes twinkle. "It's not a public bedroom, though, is it?
"We're not - in -"
One white eyebrow rises. Gai's knees wobble a little. It's because of the steam, he tells himself; he's overheated and dizzy and wants to lie down next to his ridiculously perfect husband, preferably for a long, long while.
Kakashi flips a page of his book.
"Uhhm," Gai says, face aflame.
Maybe he can get his yukata back later.