Chapter Text
In the end, Iruka claimed that it had all been a clever plan because he suspected that Kakashi was horrid at remembering dates. At the time, however, it had been less of a plan and more succumbing to intense frustration. He’d dated before. Granted, he hadn’t dated a lot, but he fancied himself worldly enough to recognize the signs when someone was interested in him. He was fairly certain that anyone with any reasonable experience and a quarter ounce of libido would notice this particular set of signs, especially because it had been stretching on for the better part of a year now.
He was also fairly certain that a person with the same minimum qualifications would be able pick up on the increasingly not-so-subtle hints he’d been dropping in return. If he could ever corner Kakashi by himself, Iruka was going to drop all pretense and ask him directly, but the brief moments of interaction in the mission room afforded little privacy. Frustrated or not, Iruka wasn’t particularly interested in the rumors that would spread before Kakashi even had a chance to answer.
So he was subtle. Sort of. Asking someone if they had plans on Valentine’s Day and casually adding a reference to an excessive amount of alcohol and food at his home wasn’t particularly subtle. Iruka had ignored the raised eyebrows and surprised looks of everyone else in line. It was Valentine’s Day. He was alone when he didn’t have to be. He was through being subtle.
Kakashi had smiled and made some enigmatic comment along the lines of, “Sounds like a terrible state to be in, Iruka-sensei. I hope someone helps you out of it.”
Suave, the rest of the village had said.
“Idiot!” Iruka snapped – slurred – six hours later and with the clock pressing perilously close to the day after Valentine’s Day. He’d drunk most of the alcohol and hadn’t eaten nearly enough of the food to counteract it. No one had come to help him with it. He pillowed his head on his arms and spoke to the table. “Idiot.”
Alcohol in excess tended to make him do stupid things. Had he had less to drink, a part of his brain would have offered an argument that he probably shouldn’t try to push a jounin around. As it was, Iruka was out of his apartment and halfway across the village before he even made a conscious decision about what he was going to do.
He rapped on Kakashi’s door, trying to ignore the way he almost missed the face of the door on the first knock. Most of him expected the knock to go unanswered. But the door opened, Kakashi stepped out, and Iruka rocked back on his heels in surprise.
“Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi had taken off his hitae-ate. He stood in the doorway with one eye closed and a small furrow between his brows. “I thought...”
Words bubbled up, but Iruka couldn’t seem to find the right ones to capture his indignation. After a moment of wrestling with it, he grabbed hold of the front of Kakashi’s shirt and pushed him back up against door. It vaguely occurred to him that he should ask permission even as he was tugging Kakashi’s mask down, but he couldn’t seem to put the words together, and Kakashi didn’t seem to be trying to stop him.
The kiss that followed was frenzied. Iruka pressed himself flush against Kakashi, letting his elbows brace against the door so that he could tangle his hands in Kakashi’s hair. He nipped gently at Kakashi’s lower lip and couldn’t help but grin at the startled groan that Kakashi let out. Hands rose to clutch at his shirt. His hips bucked on a purely primal instinct, and his voice of reason finally won out over his inebriation to point out that they were still outside.
They stood for a long moment with their foreheads pressed together. “So am I to understand that your date didn’t work out?” Kakashi finally asked.
Iruka let out an exasperated laugh. “It might have, if you’d bothered to show up.”
Kakashi blinked, his brow furrowing again. “Oh.” He said, after a long moment. “You meant me.”
“Yes, I meant you, you insufferable idiot!”
Kakashi managed to actually shuffle his feet, and a good portion of Iruka’s ire dissipated. “Maa, it’s still Valentine’s Day, isn’t it? Maybe I can still help you out of your terrible state.”
Suave, the village would have said.
This time, Iruka would have to grudgingly agree.