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"We're gonna be late!" Rin stresses as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup, nose pressed to the mirror hanging in the hallway. You're inclined to agree as you struggle to tie your obi, twisting this way and that in front of the bathroom mirror, the door open so you can hear your friends.
Kakashi had (begrudgingly) invited everyone to his house to get ready for the festival. Your and Rin's places are each too small, and Obito insisted that if everyone started the festival at the compound all plans would swiftly fall to pieces. Nosy and traditional neighbors would spark rumors about Obito's marital status, Shisui would invite himself in through the window, dragging Akari, who would also drag Itachi, who would drag Sasuke, Sasuke would bring his squad, and suddenly everyone would be yelling and laughing and pre-drinking and no one would even make it to the festival before the fireworks started.
Which is exactly what happened the last time your friends had all gathered at Obito's for the new year festival, so you're inclined to agree that the Hatake house is the best option.
It's only a bonus that it just so happens to be the home of Hatake Sakumo, who you have not been harboring a crush on for some months, thank you very much.
(Rin had given you a knowing look when it was agreed Kakashi would be hosting the "preparation party" as she liked to call it. You'd kicked her in the ankle beneath the table of the restaurant, shooting daggers as she blinked at you innocently.)
Obito rolls his eyes as he watches her, arms linking inside the wide sleeves of his red yukata. "Late for what? Festival always goes 'til like, dawn, and the sun only just started to set. It's impossible to be late."
"Yes! And you -" she pauses to point a finer at him, brow arched, "Told your cousins we'd meet them in front of the compound at dusk. It takes ten minutes to walk there from here, even if we left now we'll still be late, we might even miss them entirely and they could already be -"
Kakashi interrupts her. "Relax. They know Team Minato are never on time," a flat look leveled at Obito, who splutters, "and they wouldn't go on without us. Akari'll keep them ... entertained."
You snort a laugh as arguments immediately devolve, Rin not acting as her usual mediator as she begins pinning flowers into her hair. You still struggle to tie your obi, leaving the bathroom in a huff as you begin to pace up and down the hall. Arms twisted against your back, muttering beneath your breath - and then a broad palm comes down on your shoulder, making you startle.
"Let me," Sakumo says, and you turn your head to find him smiling, and oh, that just isn't fair. He looks completely at ease out of his jonin uniform, the light fabric of his nagagi complimenting the silver of his hair. The sleeves are loose and informal, the fabric crossing over his chest a bit lower than standard, exposing a few inches of his broad chest. His normally wild and unkempt hair falls loose around his face, his normal tail weaved into a braid down his back.
Your eyes trace the curve of his smile, the way his dark eyes linger on your own. Not fair.
When you'd first heard the rumors of him, you'd have expected nothing less than a big brute of a seasoned shinobi, with a harsh view of the world and incapable of being anything other than utterly serious with a stick up his ass, like most top-tier nin. Maybe he would even look down on you, as a civilian. Kakashi was a bit of a prick; he means well -mostly- but he had been fawned over his whole life as a genius and prodigy, especially as the son of the White Fang. You expected his father to be the exact same as Kakashi, except older.
But then Sakumo had turned out to be ruggedly handsome, and incredibly kind and good-natured and warm. Freely-given smiles, and a soft way of speaking that always bellied welcome. The perfect man. Who is also your friend's father. God is punishing you.
You shove away your thoughts as you nod at Sakumo's words, flush lighting your cheeks as you turn your back to him, holding out the dragging ends of your obi. Sakumo takes them from you, his hands grazing yours just for a moment; his touch sends a thrill up your spine. His hands are gentle and quick as he expertly folds and ties the wide fabric of your obi, and you wonder if he's done this before.
It's the sweetest sort of torture, having his hands on you without actually being on you, with his tall and broad frame warm against your back. If you close your eyes, you can almost see it; your expression schooled into a gentle smile as you hold yourself still, Sakumo close enough your hair brushes his nose as he leans down, hands at your waist. And then the obi drops, and he's parting the folds of your kimono over your chest, broad palm slipping beneath the sagging fabric to run his calloused hand over your breast -
His arm comes around you to press the front of the belt tight against your stomach, your eyes fluttering open as you bite down what you think might have been a soft moan. The rational part of your brain tells you he's simply ensuring everything sits flat and even; but the thrill that catches in your chest wonders if he simply wanted an excuse to touch you, just a bit more intimately. Your eyes glance down the hallway, but Rin had apparently finished with the mirror, and bickering voices can be heard from the front of the house. You're alone, but at any moment someone could turn down the hall -
You're not doing anything wrong. He's helping you tie your belt, Kakashi would have done the same. Well, you think with a frown, maybe not. He is a bit of a dick, after all.
Sakumo folds the excess fabric over the knot, securing it over the top of your obi. You turn your head and glance down your back, and from the bunching of fabric you're able to see he's done a simple taiko, mimicking the appearance of a box. You smile in gratitude, lifting your eyes to find Sakumo standing fan closer that you thought.
Your breath catches as you tilt up your chin, tip of your nose brushing against the line of his jaw. Sakumo's hands come up to your shoulders, keeping you in place; whether it's an encouragement of a warning, you don't know.
"How does it feel?" Sakumo asks, his voice low enough that it makes you bite your lip as you fight a shiver.
Like a current of awareness through your every nerve. Like the hint of something secret, forbidden. Like you're about to do something ridiculous, like kiss your friend's dad.
Your hands come up to the front of your obi, fingers tucking under the fabric and giving an experimental tug. The knot holds, the fabric not so much as dipping. You swallow thickly, and turn your body slowly. Facing Sakumo, you glance upwards and find him watching you, the smallest smile curving his mouth. His eyes are impossibly dark, though there is a warmth of affection clear in his eyes. Your lips part as you find yourself lost of words, instead bringing your arm up to place your palm over his hand, fingers tracing his scarred knuckles.
"It feels perfect. Thank you." Not nearly as perfect as it would feel if someone were to rip it off me entirely, however.
Sakumo smiles, nodding at your words. Neither of you move, even as you muster your courage, moving to twine your fingers through his. You gaze up at him from beneath your lashes, feeling something giddy behind the clench of your stomach. Sakumo had always treated you well, always had a smile to freely offer. He was just so easy to talk to, much more approachable than his son. It's no wonder you'd started to feel a familiar heat lick its way up your spine each time he so much as looked at you.
His hand moves, turning until his palm presses against yours. There is a flicker of doubt in his eyes, something very nearly uneasy, and you feel a surge of anxiety begin to pluck at your heart in response. You hadn't been seeing only what you wanted to see, all those times you thought he'd been looking at you far too close, for a moment too long. It makes you feel light as air, as butterflies beat against your stomach and chest. Sakumo opens his mouth, leaning down as though to murmur something soft for only you to hear. You tilt your head to meet him, his mouth brushing just over you cheek as he says your name, your eyes fluttering shut -
"Let's go!" Obito's voice rings out from down the hall, making you startle. And with that, the sudden spell is broken, as Sakumo stands to full height. He gives your hand a parting squeeze, his smile just the slightest bit strained, and then he's brushing past you.
You take a moment to compose yourself; fanning your face to help dispel your flush and fighting to even your breathing. But the smallest smirk curves your mouth as a feeling of conviction surges through your veins. You smooth a hand down your hair, straightening your obi as your smirk widens before you turn to walk to the front of the house. It's clear as glass, really, that he's just as affected by you as you are of him. The breathless laugh you swallow down tastes almost like victory, and you school your giddy smile as you turn the corner.
Rin holds tight to Obito's offered hand as she pulls on her sandals, small bag hanging from her wrist and tongue between her teeth as she fights not to stumble. Kakashi leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watches his squad. His dark blue yukata is informal, the fabric loose enough over his chest that you can see the skintight black shirt he wears beneath, attached mask curved over the lower half of his face. He doesn't wear his hitae-ate, making his hair fall forward over his eyes.
He looks up as you approach, inclining his head in acknowledgment. You still feel the burn of Sakumo's hand on your skin, through the fabric of your kimono, and hope Kakashi isn't clever enough to determine the reason for your blush as he shoves off the wall and offers you his arm.
"Not forgetting anything?" Sakumo asks as he steps into his sandals, watching the way you move past him and go to Kakashi.
"It's not like that matters. We're all probably coming back here after the festival, oyaji," Kakashi points out, as you gently put your palm in the crook of his elbow. Obito and Rin are similarly linked, standing outside the door and bickering quietly, though the brunette is smiling warmly as Obito watches her with unrestrained warmth.
"Can't fault a man for wanting to keep things organized," Sakumo says to Kakashi with a roll of his eyes, ushering for the both of you to step through the open door.
"You're one to talk," Kakashi says with an arched brow, nodding at his father.
Sakumo looks confused, and when you peak past him you make a surprised noise in your throat. You decision is made before you even realize it, as you pull away from Kakashi to step back into the kitchen. Your hands reach for the haori that hangs on the back of a chair, and you shake out the fabric gently, smiling as you spot the lining inside decorated with flowers and hounds.
You bite your lip as you step up to Sakumo, holding up the fabric and jerking your chin for him to turn. Two pairs of black eyes watch you, before Sakumo smiles that same warm smile and holds out an arm. You help him into the haori, bottom lip caught between your teeth and palms smoothing over his shoulders and lingering, just a little. With a breath you insist to yourself isn't shaky, you step in front of him and reach for the pale cords of the haori. You can feel Sakumo silently watching as you tie a simple knot, holding the thin jacket together across his abdomen.
"There," you whisper, fingertips grazing up his chest in a moment of bravery. "Now we're even," you add with a smirk, glancing up to catch his eye.
There's something unreadable in his expression, in the way he watches you so openly. Sakumo moves to capture your fingers with his own, his touch calloused but tender.
"Thank you," he murmurs, low enough for only you to hear. You feel your face heat in response, only managing to nod. You glance over his shoulder to see Kakashi has left, though you feel no disappointment at the fact he hadnt waited for you. It's more like a sense of misplaced relief, perhaps.
Rin has one of Kakashi's hands in hers, Obito's in the other. They're still impatient to leave, halfway down to the road already. You find yourself smiling indulgently at the sight, and tilt your head up to catch Sakumo's eye.
"I've been ditched. Care to escort me to the festival?" You ask, no bitterness coloring your tone. Neither you nor Kakashi really wanted to be stuck with one another, even if it was only for the travel time and presumably, the first few minutes of all your gathered friends huddling in a circle and arguing about what to do first before inevitably dispersing into groups of twos and threes.
You're not really in the mood for a party, you think as your pulse heightens, Sakumo studying you in a stretching silence that brings embarrassment to your chest. You're more in the mood for a good conversation, and maybe for a tall and handsome man to proudly have you on his arm.
"It would be an honor," Sakumo finally responds, his hand still holding yours. Your smile is immediate and instinctive, stomach clenching nervously.
He moves your hand to the crook of his elbow, and as you step out of the house your friends only give you a cursory glance -you pointedly ignore the way Kakashi's brows furrow above his dark eyes- before you're all walking down the lane.