Work Text:
221B Baker Street was located in a small terraced apartment building with a homely looking café on the ground floor. Iruka parked on the curb outside and stood on the pavement, giving the street a good once over. He decided he liked what he saw.
There was still the matter of the flat itself, which Iruka hadn’t seen yet. It had struck him about an hour after their first meeting that Kakashi had decided Iruka would move in and then hastily escaped the room before Iruka could ask so much as a single question. It irritated him that Kakashi assumed he would do what he was told, but he’d still taken his things from Mizuki’s house and moved out as soon as class had finished for the day. Only time would tell if he was making a terrible mistake.
Sighing at what his life had become, Iruka knocked on the door.
The person who opened it was decidedly not Kakashi. He was tall, middle-aged and with long, grey hair in the style of a rock star past his prime.
“Sorry to disturb you. I’m looking for Kakashi,” Iruka said.
“Client?”
“No. New flatmate.”
“Oh!” The man gave him an appraising look that made Iruka blush to the roots of his hair. “You’re the boyfriend.”
Iruka spluttered. “What? No! I only met him yesterday.”
“And you’re already moving in together? Young people move so quickly these days.”
“It’s not like that!”
“No need to be embarrassed, I’m not the sort to judge. I’m Jiraiya, by the way, the landlord. I live in 221A, so you’ll see me around a lot.”
He stood aside and gestured Iruka into the building. Iruka helplessly stepped over the threshold, trying to figure out what had caused this colossal misunderstanding and how he could undo it.
“I’ve been expecting you, of course,” Jiraiya was saying as he started to lead him up the staircase. “But Kakashi only described you as having a strangely attractive facial scar and pretty eyes” – Iruka choked – “and, well, men aren’t exactly my speciality. Except for a brief period during my twenties, but that’s a story for another day.”
Please God, Iruka prayed, don’t let that day ever come.
“Kakashi and I aren’t dating,” he said as clearly and firmly as possible.
“It’s just a sex thing then? In that case, know that the shortest tenancy contract I offer is six months, and also the walls between our flats aren’t that soundproof so I’d prefer it if you bite the pillow after ten.”
Iruka was too scandalised even to blush.
They reached the top of the stairs and Jiraiya knocked loudly before opening the door and stepping inside. Iruka’s brain had stopped functioning at the level where he could produce speech, and he mutely followed, hoping Kakashi would manage to clear up the matter of their non-relationship.
The front door opened straight into the lounge. Kakashi was still wearing his surgical mask, and was slouched so far into a leather armchair that Iruka half expected him to slide down onto the floor. He barely glanced up from his book as they entered.
“Oi, Kakashi, your flatmate’s here.”
“My what?” Kakashi asked. He tore his eyes away from the page again and seemed to notice Iruka. “Oh, yes, you’re –” he thought for a moment and then seemed to give up, “– Tenzou’s friend.”
He’d forgotten Iruka’s name. Iruka calmly decided not to punch anyone.
“You know Tenzou?” Jiraiya asked. “Do you work for the police too?”
“Oh, no, though we did sort of meet through work.”
“You’re a murderer?” Iruka hoped he was joking.
“Not yet.”
Jiraiya’s eyes lit up in understanding. “A prostitute?”
“I’m a teacher! Tenzou came to the school a few months ago for a ‘meet the police’ day for the children. I organised it.”
“How boring,” Kakashi muttered. “A murderous prostitute would have been more my area.”
Iruka didn’t even ask. He didn’t want to know.
“Well, I’ll leave you to get moved in,” Jiraiya said. “Unless you want me to help with your things?”
“No, that’s quite all right,” Iruka said quickly.
As soon as Jiraiya had gone, Iruka rounded on Kakashi, who’d gone back to his book as though a stranger moving into his home was an everyday occurrence.
“Your landlord thinks I’m your boyfriend,” Iruka hissed.
“Does he?” A page flipped.
“All because of something you said.” Iruka flushed. “Something, um. About my eyes.”
“Yes, your eyes!” Kakashi flung the book to the ground and suddenly went from slouching in the chair to standing upright in one fluid movement. “I’ve been thinking about your eyes.”
Iruka took a subtle step back towards the door. “What? Why?”
“I remember thinking they were pretty. And then I wondered, what makes eyes pretty? Eyes are just eyes. They don’t differ all that much from person to person.” He suddenly came towards Iruka so quickly that Iruka instinctively backed right up against the door. “Would you mind if I studied your eyes?”
He stood right in front of Iruka and leaned forwards until his face was maybe an inch away. Iruka felt his cheeks heat up again and his breath catch.
“Please don’t cut out my eyes,” was all he could think to say.
“I’m sure we already agreed that I wasn’t going to experiment on body parts I’d cut off your corpse,” Kakashi said conversationally. From this close, Iruka noticed that Kakashi’s own eyes were different colours. The right was brown, the left hazel. He tried to look away but Kakashi casually grasped his chin and turned his head back. “But surely it’s all right if they’re still attached to you.”
“You remember that conversation but not my name?” Iruka asked. His voice came out higher than usual.
“Of course I remember your name! It was – something. You know, a word…”
“Iruka,” Iruka snapped. “Now could you please get out of my personal space?”
Kakashi blinked at him. “You’ll have to be more specific. I mean, how much space is personal to you? Are we talking an inch or two or will we have to stand at opposite ends of the room? Because that might make living together a little difficult.”
Iruka’s patience disintegrated and he pushed Kakashi bodily back to arm’s length.
“But I can’t observe the aesthetic properties of your eyes from here,” Kakashi whined.
“Buy a telescope,” Iruka snapped. “Now come and help me with my things before I change my mind and go back to Mizuki’s couch.”
“I don’t do manual labour,” Kakashi informed him, turning to wander back to his book, but Iruka grabbed his arm.
“Do you want me to help pay your rent or not?”
Kakashi sighed. “Capitalism wins again.”
Bonus scene
Iruka stared at the telescope five inches from his face. Then he looked past it and stared at Kakashi who was looming over him from an arm’s length away and was peering intently through the telescope he had trained on Iruka’s left eye.
“I was being sarcastic,” Iruka said. “That is, I didn’t mean you should get a literal telescope and stare at my eyes.”
“But it was an excellent suggestion,” Kakashi murmured. “Now I can observe them in greater detail than if I simply got close.”
There was a knock on the door. Iruka started to get up from his armchair, but the door opened by itself and Jiraiya stepped inside. He stared at Kakashi staring at Iruka.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m attempting to scientifically categorise the beauty of Iruka’s eyes,” Kakashi said distractedly.
“How romantic. In my day we didn’t use telescopes.”
“Not my boyfriend,” Iruka said loudly. He was ignored.
“I just came to make sure you’d settled in all right,” Jiraiya said, “but I wouldn’t want to interrupt. Come and knock on my door if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
“Condoms, lube, pornography…”
“We won’t need any!”
Jiraiya looked impressed. “Already fully stocked? Well done. Anyway, have a good first night together.” He leered and closed the door.
Iruka shut his eyes in despair and Kakashi tapped him impatiently on the knee.
“While I’m intrigued by the length of your eyelashes, I’d prefer to observe them around your open eyes.”
Deciding it was easier to give in, Iruka obediently opened his eyes and allowed Kakashi a good five minutes of study before confiscating the telescope.