Work Text:
Iruka kicked open the door to the Hokage’s office, his arms filled with scrolls and his patience at an end. If he had to tell him one more time that these scrolls were urgent and needed to be signed immediately, Hokage or no, he was going to get the scrolls shoved up his ass in alphabetical order-
Then Iruka caught sight of the Hokage, and the scrolls hit the floor.
“Afternoon, Sensei.” Kakashi stood in the middle of his new office in nothing but low-riding pants and his sleeveless black top, back straight, arms out as a tailor fluttered around him, measuring tape in hand. Robe-fitting appointment, 3:00, Iruka’s mind helpfully supplied. He’d forgotten. Like he was forgetting to breath right now at the sight of all that dark material clinging to every bit of muscle and sinew, highlighting dips and curves and angles that Iruka wanted to follow with his-
Iruka cleared his throat hurriedly. Scrolls. Yes, scrolls. Kakashi had to sign them. Iruka was supposed to be mad about that. Anger. Anger was good. He opened his mouth to let the new Hokage know just how angry he was.
“Turn around, please,” the tailor said suddenly. Kakashi nodded and obeyed, turning in place.
“Yes, that’d probably be for the best,” Iruka thought to himself, sighing in relief. Until he saw the line of Kakashi’s shoulders, the bunching of powerful muscles, and the dip of his spine as it traveled downwards to disappear into the top of his pants, much like he wished his hands could-
NO! The scrolls, think of the scrolls! Wait. Where were they? Oh. Right. They were on the floor. He’d dropped them after getting an eyeful of washboard abs that he wouldn’t mind doing his laundry on-
Iruka cleared his throat again, harder this time.
“Are you coming down with something, Sensei?” Kakashi asked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t mind going down on some- NO!” Iruka grabbed that train of thought and strangled it into submission. He was here for the scrolls. The scrolls that were currently on the floor. Because the new Hokage was an asshole and a lazy good-for-nothing and a damned sex-God and Iruka couldn’t keep his eyes off of him.
Channeling his inner rage and frustration into a billowing wave that shoved aside all other thoughts, Iruka opened his mouth again, ready to-
“Now for the inseam, Hokage-sama,” the tailor said, and Iruka’s furious rant came out a high-pitched squeak as Kakashi’s hands went to his pants and undid the top button, pushing them down to reveal-
“I HAVE TO GO!” Iruka choked out, frantically backing up until he hit the door. Scrambling for the doorknob, he stumbled out into the hall only to stop, stick his head back in, yell “SIGN THE SCROLLS!”, and dash off, his face burning.
Several seconds later, the tailor henged back into Tenzou, who stood, stretching, and glared at his Senpai.
“I am never doing this for you again.”
“Oh, sure you will.” Kakashi winked cheekily. “I am the Hokage, after all.”
>>>> Link to the artwork!! <<<<