Work Text:
I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down, I want to come too
I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you
No one understands me quite like you do
Through all of the shadowy corners of me
Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop- Landon Pigg
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There was always something about the freshly fallen snow in the dead of night that brought a soft sort of comfort to Iruka. It always looked so peaceful, a preamble to something warm waiting at home in contrast to the stillness of the night. Be it his favorite chair by the window with his favorite childhood throw blanket, salvaged from his home after the Kyuubi attack so many years ago, or his seat at the kotatsu– warm and slightly silly from the few sips of sake he’d take.
He would think about his bed, and his sheets and covers, his soft pillow that he only has to fluff a few times before it’s just right.
He would think of the falling snow– of all the warmth and comfort it has given him in the past.
Anko would argue whenever Iruka would tell her as such, huffing and shuffling deeper into her clothes for warmth, teeth chattering.
“Warmth? There’s nothing warm about snow at all.” She would often say, casting a scowl at the falling snow.
“Think about it,” Iruka would say, “When walking in the snow and you hear the way it crunches underfoot when you walk, doesn’t it make you slightly happy?”
“What kind of shinobi is happy about being heard when they walk?” Anko would say, wrapping her scarf closer to her neck, Iruka once more reminded of her snake summons and the teacher who abandoned her and the village on one such snowy winter night, “You’re basically giving yourself away, the snow is a liability.”
“Well, I suppose that’s true.” Iruka would tell her, abashed every single time they’d have this conversation. Without fail, he would be reminded of the difference between them. Him, an academy teacher with a few missions every now and then, and her a full time active shinobi, carrying out various missions multiple times a week. “You make a really good point there.”
Though the vast differences between them existed, never once did Anko treat him as anything less than a dear friend, scolding and bullying included. He’s quite grateful for her friendship, and is happy each time she brings him back down to earth with these reminders. It wouldn’t do well for him to not remind his students of such dangers before they all graduated and went on their own missions.
There was a flash of red in the distance and Iruka paused ever so briefly. He peered into the darkness of the night down an alleyway to his right, squinting as he tried to locate the little flash of red.
When nothing revealed itself, Iruka hummed and continued his way home, the corner of his lips lifting in a slight smile. He was slightly behind schedule in getting home and had finally begun his long trek home later than he had liked.
He tilted his head back to look up into the night sky, snow catching on his eyelashes.
The bags in his hands were lighter than they probably should be, meager supplies meant for the rest of the week, already knowing half of it would be lost to any attempts at cooking a proper meal. There was a reason Iruka himself frequented the bars and diners of Konoha- why he was so proficient at knowing what specials were worth more for his buck.
But Iruka had promised himself he would try harder when it came to cooking at home- that it was time for him to practice what he preached to Naruto for so many years about the merits of a proper home cooked meal.
Anko had laughed herself sick while Asuma patted Iruka on the back, muttering a brief prayer for Iruka’s pending doom.
“I’ll send flowers.” Asuma had said with a smile.
Iruka had foolishly hoped someone would have mercy upon him and would offer to teach him a thing or two but alas, he was only met with more laughter and questions about which flowers would suit his coffin best.
“They can't cook either,” Genma had said, clicking his tongue, lips curling into a smirk. Iruka knew that was his sympathetic tone and refused to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d take what little victories he could find.
“You shut your whore mouth Genma, like you’re any better!” Anko had yelled before they all dissolved into shouts and accusations of burnt pans before Iruka slipped away.
His first priority for the night, of course, had been to get something to eat- and like many nights before, Iruka ate ramen as an early dinner before setting off to find ingredients for dishes he knew he could easily make- with any luck, it would be completely edible.
There was a rustle and the swift rasping sound of displaced air that brought Iruka to a dead stop. He froze, thoughts of a hopefully easy dinner evaporating as his adrenaline spiked.
There was an eerie pause where Iruka subtly looked around, focusing his chakra- he acknowledged that he more than likely already gave himself away with how he had stopped dead in the center of the road- snow crunched beneath his shoes- muscles tense in preparation for-
There was a low growl and Iruka’s eyes followed the sound to find a black cat at the mouth of the alleyway- one beady eye following Iruka’s every move, as though daring him to step a single toe out of line.
Iruka chuckled to himself and shook his head- how silly he felt to be startled by such a thing. He was a shinobi afterall, he scolded his own students for being startled by their own shadows- he should set a better example than this.
He reached into his bag, the plastic crinkling in protest as he rummaged around the contents within it. He smiled when his fingers found the hard won ham, the last package he managed to snag from the shelf at the butcher’s before they closed.
It was a close call too- he had seen the way Nami, another fellow academy teacher, was eyeing the package before Iruka had thrown caution to the wind and darted forward at the same time she did. He only managed to grab it before she did by the skin of his teeth. Even then it was only luck that was on his side in the form of the butcher letting out a hearty guffaw before taking it from the white knuckled grip of Iruka’s hands to place it into a bag with surprisingly gentle thick fingers.
“Sorry, Sensei,” The portly man said to Nami, “You know what they say, fair’s fair.”
“What about ladies first?” Nami- rabid with a hunger for ham- was quick to ask. Iruka knew she was typically a pleasant person overall but even he knew first hand how one was easily turned by the unforgivable experience of losing such a delicious cut of meat.
The portly butcher had laughed then- his entire body shaking as in mirth. It was enough to make a smile steal its way across Iruka’s lips.
“How about this?” Iruka asked, “Why don’t I just split it with you? I always end up taking too much home anyway so this amount will probably be too much for me.”
“There now, see?” The butcher said with a wide smile, “A fine gentleman if I ever did see one!”
Nami sighed, the fight leaving her body as she glanced out from under the awning of the stall, squinting at the softly falling snow. She had reached out a gloved hand to catch a few of the flakes. “No, that’s okay, Iruka-sensei, you got it first fair and square. It would be most unkind to make you split it with me.”
“Not if I’m offering!” Iruka had pointed out, passing over the appropriate amount of money to the stall owner without looking, who thanked him in turn. The Butcher then stepped away and proceeded to close up shop as Iruka moved to stand beside Nami, bag crinkling in his hands.
“Are you?” Nami asked, sliding a look over at Iruka from beneath her lashes.
“Am I what?” Iruka asked, confused.
Nami retracted her gloved hand from the snow, there was a small tear in the thumb and the skin beneath it was flushed with cold. Once he took a second glance at it, Iruka noted that it wasn’t a tear at all, but a clean cut. Nami must use those gloves on missions, then.
Iruka wondered if she wore them now in the village because they were sure to be warmer than that of standard civilian gloves or if she wore them because she neglected to buy another casual pair like most shinobi tended to. It wasn’t a rare sight to see people donning their mission clothes when out on a casual day in the village.
“Offering?”
Iruka was not proud to admit to the way his cheeks instantly flushed, his mouth moving soundlessly for a few moments, much like a fish. When he finally did produce noise, it sounded strangled as he sputtered.
Nami had thrown her head back and laughed as she left the safety of the overpass the stall provided, lazily waving a hand as she walked away, leaving footprints in the snow.
“Certainly missed your shot with that one, did you?” the Butcher said with a toothy grin, “What’s the matter, got someone special at home?”
“No- no,” Iruka had said when his voice finally returned to him, “No- I- Nami-sesei is a colleague.”
“Even colleagues get lonely sometimes.” The Butcher had pointed out.
“I’m not-!”
“Ah.” the Butcher nodded, “I see.”
“You see wha-?”
“You may not have someone at home, but you have someone in mind , don't you? Someone you want to share that delicious cut of ham with more than anything.”
Iruka would have to have been some sort of god to keep the flush from his cheeks.
He hadn’t denied it.
The echoes of the butcher’s laughter had followed him down the road until he turned the corner to continue his shopping, desperately thinking of the meals he planned to try his hand at until the flush finally receded from his face some time later.
And now there Iruka stood, late at night, footprints in the snow- holding out a piece of ham for this angry-looking alley cat, who eyed Iruka up as though insulted to be offered a small piece rather than the entire ham. The cat growled in warning when he stepped just a little too close.
“Well, alright.” Iruka says with a huff. He risks a few more steps despite the clear warning emanating from the scraggly cat’s throat and a flash of teeth before Iruka gently places the piece of ham onto the ground. Iruka in that moment felt much like a mere peasant with an inadequate offer, kneeling in the presence of an old enraged god.
The cat hisses once more- taking a wild swipe as Iruka quickly backed away, hands raised up. “I get it I get it- there now, you enjoy that offering O Ye God of old.” Iruka says with a chuckle. He watches as the cat sniffs at the meat, glancing over at Iruka, scrutinizing him.
Iruka wonders what would happen if the cat allowed him to take it home- if it would quickly warm up to Iruka or if it would forsake him for all eternity for keeping it trapped in his shoe box apartment.
Iruka wonders if it would curl up on his lap and stay a while.
The cat sinks its teeth into the meat and quickly darts away leaving tiny kitty footprints in the snow.
Iruka watches it go with a certain melancholy, wishing it well as he turns his attention to the darkened sky. The snow continues to fall in thick, hefty snowflakes- stars hidden behind thick clouds. He stays there a while just to watch it fall, softly smiling the way his breath curls in the cold night air, whisps reaching out and curling around a few snowflakes before disappearing into the night sky. Iruka breathes in deep and that warm feeling within him rises.
He’s alone on the street, a mere few blocks away from his apartment and it’s warm kotatsu, waiting for Iruka to arrive home. He feels a little silly, a little whimsical, and as such he chuckles as he sticks his tongue out to catch a few flakes before a familiar voice breaks the silence of the night.
“Maa, sensei, what has you out this late?”
The snow beneath Iruka’s boots mutes the sound of his stumbling footsteps as he nearly jumps out of his skin, grocery bags crinkling as they’re jostled.
“Kakashi-sensei!” Iruka gasps.
“Yo!” Kakashi cheerfully waves from his spot beneath the street lamp as though not even noticing the way Iruka clutched at his chest right above his heart, desperately trying to keep it from jumping out of his throat. Around his neck, sloppily donned, was a red scarf. “Out for a late night stroll?”
“S-something like that.” Iruka rights himself and clutches his bag just a little bit closer to himself when he catches the way Kakashi eyes one of the bags in particular.
“So?” Kakashi’s eye trails away from Iruka’s bag, traveling up until it lands on Iruka’s face.
“So?” Iruka parrots back, albeit a bit confused.
“What has you out here so late?”
“Come now, Kakashi-sensi.” Iruka smiles, loosening his grip on his bags and letting the weight of them swing a little as he starts to walk towards Kakashi. “You know exactly what I’m doing out here.”
“Do I?” Kakashi asks, moving to step aside as Iruka walks past him.
“The bags haven’t made it obvious?” Iruka glances over as Kakashi falls into step with him, feather light as he walks. His footsteps are completely silent, Iruka notes, as he walks with him in the snow.
“Well,” Kakashi’s tone is light and joyful as he glances over at Iruka, white eyelashes catching a few stray snowflakes. His gaze, however, held a completely different tone. “One wouldn’t want to assume.”
Iruka raises an eyebrow but chooses to say nothing. He simply hums and continues on his way, bags and Hatake in tow.
“Have the kids come by to wish you a Happy New Year, Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi asks after a few beats.
“Oh,” Iruka blinks, “Yes, they did today as soon as class was over.”
“Maa,” Kakashi chuckles, “I meant our kids.”
“Oh!” Iruka laughs, already used to Kakashi’s way of referring to the ever ruly, not to mention messy, team seven. The amount of teasing Iruka received the very first time Kakashi had referred to them as their children was relentless, though Iruka only took it in stride. At the time he had simply blinked and continued their conversation as though there was nothing strange about it at all.
Which it wasn’t, it was surprising yes, but Iruka wasn’t going to deny the way it made him feel warm inside. Why deny himself the things that made him happy?
Iruka still fondly remembers the way there was endless knocking at the door one year and when he had opened it, the entirety of team seven stood on his doorstep looking quite haggard and abashed. They were all covered in mud and dirt, as though they had been forced into several D rank missions before showing up on Iruka’s doorstep.
Naruto lifted his shoulder to wipe mud from his nose, only to smear it and make it worse. Sasuke had glanced over at Naruto and huffed, upturning his own mud covered nose and looking away while Sakura cleared her throat and nudged Sai, who stood ever so awkwardly to the side, as though unsure of what to do with himself.
Yamato stood behind the bunch, looking much like an exhausted babysitter who had his hands quite full all day and was relieved he could finally dump his charges back home to their parents.
He, too, was covered in mud just like the rest of them.
“What’s–?”
“Happy Birthday!” The teens chorused in unison while Yamato bowed ever so slightly, a queasy smile on his lips.
“Sorry I forgot, Iruka-sensei.” Naruto muttered, looking like the world's most pathetic kicked dog to have ever lived. Iruka couldn’t help but reach for him, running his thumb over the bridge of his nose to wipe the worst of the clump of mud away.
“Sorry we forgot.” Sakura interjected with a grimace.
“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal at all. It’s not like I even remembered either.” Iruka had rushed to reassure them. He reached for Sakura then, to pat her on her mud caked head and then turned to Sasuke and Sai, whom he noticed stood far closer to each other than Iruka ever remembered them ever daring to.
To be exact, Sasuke stayed far away from Sai and Sai had always just smiled that unnerving smile of his until Naruto or Sakura broke the ice. Or just simply moved into each other’s line of sight until the tension evaporated.
But on that particular day, Sasuke and Sai had stood, albeit awkwardly, right next to each other, a balloon held in each of their hands.
Iruka paused and searched Sasuke’s eyes and waited- Sasuke stared back, eyes a little wide, gaze a little hesitant as Sakura and Naruto quietly squabbled about getting mud on the cupcake box Naruto held in his hands and who’s fault it really was.
Iruka steadily gazed into Sasuke’s eyes, until finally, Sasuke breathed a little deeper, his head dipping ever so slightly, his gaze moving to his feet. Iruka didn’t hesitate then, he simply reached out and patted Sasuke’s head gently as he did Sakura’s, smiling at the thick mud that came away with his hand.
He had turned his gaze onto Sai, who simply smiled at Iruka, as though it was the only thing he knew how to properly do. Wordlessly, Sai held out a mud-caked hand and offered the one balloon to Iruka, gently moving his head back when Iruka looked at him too. Iruka had paused, but did not react negatively to the subtle refusal to be touched by the teen. He simply took the offered balloon and opened his door a little wider.
“Well,” Iruka’s tone was slightly raised as to be heard over Sakura and Naruto’s arguing, “we can’t let those cupcakes go to waste, now can we? Why don’t you all come inside and wash up? I have some spare clothes that may be a bit too big for you all but they should fit nonetheless. After everyone is clean we can all sit and eat cupcakes together and you can all tell me why you’re so filthy and looking so sorry for yourselves.”
“Cause Kakashi-sensei is a freak.” Naruto had grumbled under his breath before paling and throwing a cautious look over his shoulder, as though expecting his sensei to be standing there menacingly. Iruka had not missed the way even Yamato-sensei threw a quick glance over his shoulder as well.
“Naruto,” Iruka said warningly before Sakura sighed and nudged Naruto none too gently in rebuke.
“Thanks for the offer, Iruka-sensei, but we can’t come in. We’d get mud all over the place.” She had said.
“That’s quite alright Sakura-chan,” Iruka had said, “I needed to clean anyway- now I have the perfect excuse! I won’t hear any more arguing. If you’re all really that worried about it, leave your shoes out here and be careful when you shuffle in. There’s a spare bedroom- Naruto sleeps there a lot as you all know, he also has some spare clothes there that may still fit some of you if anyone is uncomfortable wearing my clothes. It’ll be a little cramped but two of you boys can shower at the same time. Mind your manners.” Iruka said threateningly, throwing the boys a stern look. “You can take my room to change in private, Sakura-chan.”
“We don’t want to impose–” Yamato-sensei began before Iruka simply raised an eyebrow at him.
“My birthday, my rules.” He simply said, and that, as they say, was that.
Iruka then relieved them of the various balloons and the cupcake box they had brought as they struggled out of their mud-caked shoes. He watched as they shuffled in one by one, closing the door behind them before it was only Iruka and Yamato-sensei left standing outside his apartment door. Yamato-sensei stood stiff before Iruka, his shoes not removed and a hesitant look on his face.
“I’d rather not-” Yamato-sensei had begun.
“I know.” Iruka gently cut him off, “I understand. Will you at least take a cupcake with you before you go?”
A soft, shy smile had spread across his face and he accepted the cupcake, biting into it as he turned to leave, waving as he went.
Iruka watched him go before he turned on his heel and walked back into his small apartment, pausing as the door closed behind him.
Sai stood before him, covered in dirt and mud, smiling that same smile. Iruka blinked at him and had gently moved to place the cupcakes on the small counter top before turning back to him to give him his full attention.
He could hear the boys squabbling and yelling behind the closed door of the spare bedroom, could feel the gentle breeze from the open window and could hear Sakura’s soft humming from behind his closed bathroom door.
“I’ve never had a mother before.” Sai had said, his smile just a little wider, as though trying to convince Iruka he was not a threat.
He was, but also wasn’t in Iruka’s book, despite all he had done and gone through. Iruka wasn’t naive enough to forget that before him stood an almost full fledged shinobi, capable and deadly.
In that very moment, Iruka had thought he looked a little lost, a little small and a little sad for the things he never had known outside of what he had read in the pages of many many books.
Iruka often wondered what would go through his head when he read through those books, all alone in the library, tucked away in the shadows, leafing through the pages with that pensive look on his face. Iruka often wondered if he read in the library rather than at home because he didn’t want to feel so alone.
“I don’t quite know what to do.” Sai had continued.
“You don’t have to do anything.” Iruka had told him quietly, reassuringly.
“I don’t like to be touched.” Sai told Iruka, his smile had turned a little softer, a little more human. A little more Sai. “But I don’t mind hugs from the people who care for me.”
Iruka nodded his head and waited.
“It’s not that I didn’t want you to touch me.” Sai continued, “I know you understand, but a book I read said that if I wanted to, I could explain why I react to things the way I do.” Sai did not move the entire time he spoke, and Iruka simply waited. “I don’t want to explain those things now, but I just wanted you to know that I am grateful you didn’t reach for me like you did Sakura- that you waited- and are waiting, even now. Such hesitation will get you killed one day if you’re not careful.”
The sound of the shower did well to help drown out the sound of Naruto’s offended yell and Sasuke’s irritated response as they argued in the spare bedroom, Sakura’s humming turning into an offkey song.
“Sakura and Naruto had an argument today, when we were trying to track down that cat.” Sai continued, blunt as always about what fell from his lips as he spoke of what he knew, “Naruto was angry that Sakura said that in this scenario, you were the mother, and Kakashi the father and Yamato, the tired uncle. And that we were in trouble because we forgot to wish you a happy birthday.” Sai had said as Iruka slowly nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“I don’t like being touched,” Sai repeated, “But Naruto said you gave the best hugs, and a hug from you doesn’t sound so bad. A book I read said that when it’s your mother’s birthday, you can choose a myriad of things to give them. Things they like. Gifts that don't have to be grand unless you want them to be. Typically, you'd kiss them on the cheek, or on the forehead. Or, more often than not, you’d give them a hug.”
“Are you telling me you think I’m your mother?” Iruka asked slowly.
“I don’t know.” Sai said, “I’ve never had one before. All I know is what they’ve told me thus far. All I know is that you give the best hugs, Naruto said so himself.”
“Do you want me to hug you, Sai?” Iruka asked gently, arms resting at his sides as he had smiled ever so gently at Sai.
“I’m covered in mud.”
“It’s mostly dry, and I need to shower anyway.”
Sai paused, his mouth twisting ever so slightly. “Do you want to hug me, Iruka-sensei?”
“Yes,” Iruka had said, with all the truth in his heart, “I’d very much like to hug you, Sai.”
“Okay,” Sai said, but did not move, “I would like a hug from you too, Iruka-sensei.”
Iruka opened his arms and waited patiently as Sai shuffled over, footsteps silent on the tiled floor. Awkwardly, Sai arms wound his arms around Iruka’s torso and laid his head on Iruka’s chest. His breath was measured and his body was stiff as Iruka wrapped his arms around him in turn. They stayed like that until the shower stopped and the door creaked open, Sakura calling out that the shower was free before shuffling over to Iruka’s room and gently closing the door behind her.
Sai stepped away from Iruka just as the spare room door burst open as the boys fought for shower rights before Sai slipped in through the open bathroom door before they could make it in, closing it behind him and firmly locking it before either boy could comprehend what had just happened.
“No fair!” Naruto yelled as Sasuke threw a particularly hateful look at the locked door.
Iruka had simply laughed and moved to begin cleaning and preparing for guests, his shirt sticking to his skin, caked with dirt and mud. A fact that Naruto had not failed to notice. He stood there before Iruka, his lower lip jutting out ever so slightly as Iruka had taken up the space at the counter top, preparing the tea, Sasuke slinking off back to the spare bedroom. Iruka had felt Naruto’s burning gaze and simply raised an eyebrow at him in question.
“No fair.” Naruto had said, albeit far more quietly this time. “I didn’t get to hug you first.”
“Well,” Iruka said with a placating smile, “I could hug Sakura-chan next and you could hug me after her if you don’t want to be second.”
The air was driven from his body with the force of Naruto’s hug.
They didn’t let go of each other until Sai finished his shower.
After they all showered and were clean, Iruka had passed out the cupcakes one by one, letting Naruto pour the tea. Together, they spent the rest of the evening until they all shuffled out, yawning as they left.
It was by far one of Iruka’s most cherished memories and to this day he held it close, knowing exactly who he had to thank for such a precious moment. He had left his living room window open that night, leaving the last cupcake on the windowsill before retiring to sleep. He thought about leaving it in his bedroom window but thought better of it. He didn’t want to seem too forward. Afterall, he had an example to set.
By morning, the cupcake was gone, the plate washed and put away.
Iruka shakes off the memory, a blush rising to his cheeks, and glances over at a Kakashi, who simply gazes back, questioningly. Still waiting for his answer, ever so patient as Iruka lost himself to one of his most fondest memories.
“Sorry,” Iruka chuckles, snowflakes catching on his lashes as he closes his eyes as he smiles ever so wide, “Sorry, I got lost in thought.”
Kakashi hums, smiling right back, “Good things, I hope?”
“Only the best,” Iruka assures him.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Kakashi says as they continue down the deserted street, the snow falling even heavier now, though the night air remains still. It’s an ever so pleasant snowfall, the kind you’d read about in books. “Did our ever unruly children wish you a Happy New Year?”
“Kakashi-sensei,” Iruka chides playfully, “They’re almost adults now, you can't expect them to come by and wish me well on every holiday that exists. They have their own lives now, their own things they need to tend to.”
“They can spare a few minutes to come by and say hello to their favorite sensei.” Kakashi says with a shake of his head, unwilling to hear another word of protest. “I taught them better than that. I think a few D ranks should re-freshen their memories.”
“Now, now,” Iruka laughs, “if anything that’s on me too, I should have done better with them when they were little.”
“Trying to take some of the blame I see?” Kakashi chuckles back. “How noble of you sensei.”
“Not noble at all,” Iruka says, turning back to face forward, almost disappointed to see that they were fast approaching his apartment building. He squints up at his window, noticing the light was on– not an unusual occurrence as he more often than not forgot to turn off a light or two in the past.
He slows to a stop, unwilling to let this moment disappear with the falling snow.
“I have some ham,” Iruka clears his throat, the bags crinkling in his hands as he adjusts his hold on them, very much aware of how bare his fridge was at the moment. “Though I’m not a very good cook, you can come up if you’d like? To have a cup of tea? I could offer you some sake if you’d like?”
Kakashi slides over to look at Iruka from beneath his lashes, the corner of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly, the scar running over his eye was very pink in the cold winter air.
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It’s not an imposition if I’m offering.” Iruka says, his heart picking up ever so slightly as Kakashi simply looks at him.
“Are you?” Kakashi asks, his voice just a little lower.
“Am I what?” Iruka blinks, feeling an odd sense of deja vu wash over him as Kakashi continues to stare at him, as though he knew something but wasn’t telling.
“Offering?”
Iruka blinks slowly in the falling snow, and answers without a single moment of hesitation.
“Yes.” Iruka says, “I am.”
Kakashi simply stares at him as he steps closer, the snow crunching beneath his shoes as he moves, at last, allowing himself to be heard. Kakashi’s hand reaches out, and gently, he takes one of Iruka’s bags.
He doesn’t stop there, instead, he shuffles just a few steps closer. At first, curling his fingers into Iruka’s palm, before ever so slowly, moving to intertwine his fingers with Iruka’s as they stand there, so close in the gently falling snow, palm pressed firmly against palm.
“So forward,” Kakashi teases, “whatever will our children say?”
“I’ll let you do the talking for that one.” Iruka mutters back, his lips tingling with a kiss he so desperately aches for. Yet, he waits, as Kakashi stares down at him, his eyes roving over every inch of Iruka’s face.
“Best not waste any time.”
They move quickly, hand in hand up the stairs to Iruka’s apartment, hand in hand, the sound of the bags in their hands covering the softly whispered laughter as Iruka nearly trips into the outer wall, suddenly love drunk with the warmth of his hand pressed in Kakashi’s. He’s almost unsteady on his feet as Kakashi tugs at him, helping him right his feet as he lets Iruka lead the way.
He presses against Iruka’s back once they make it to Iruka’s front door, waiting patiently and grabbing Iruka’s other bag from him to allow him to rummage in his pocket for his keys, unwilling to let go of his other hand.
Iruka pauses when he puts his key into the lock.
It was already open.
Kakashi falls quiet behind him, the air suddenly tense. He’s completely silent, his presence all but disappearing save for the two points of contact between them– his chest to Iruka’s back and his hand still intertwined with Iruka’s. Slowly, Iruka opens the door.
All at once, the breath leaves his lungs, his chest suddenly feeling tight, his entire body feeling raw with emotion at the sight that greets him.
There, at the kotatsu, lies the still reckless, still very much young team seven. None of them impervious to the late hour past their bedtimes and a warm kotatsu.
They all must have been waiting for Iruka to come home, ready to surprise him and had fallen asleep in the process. They all lay cured beneath the blankets, all scrunched on one side, in what should have been an impossible feat for such a small kotatsu. They all snored as they slept, their limbs all intertwined, various half eaten snacks and drinks scattered on the table above them. They must have gotten impatient as they waited, healthy growing shinobi had large appetites, afterall. Iruka was that age once, he didn’t blame them for being unable to wait a single bit.
Iruka squints and he spies the way Sai’s eye opens, ever so slightly to watch them enter into the home. Sai simply blinks at him, before completely closing his eyes and turning his head away to bury itself beneath Sakura’s chin.
“Ah,” Kakashi leans down to whisper into Iruka’s ear, “Looks like they didn’t forget afterall.”
Iruka simply smiles and turns around to look at Kakashi, pulling his hand from his, smiling when Kakashi’s expression radiates disappointment until Iruka slowly reaches up to cradle his cheeks in his hands, fingers slowly curling into his mask.
“Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi says, his lashes dropping lower, “What will the children say?” He asks once more.
“Best not wake them.” Iruka whispers back, waiting.
Kakashi gently places the grocery bags onto the ground and presses forward, into Iruka’s hands. Reaching up to place his hands over Iruka’s and allowing him to curl his fingers further into his mask, before gently helping him pull it completely down. Iruka takes but a moment to stare into his face before Kakashi’s lips cover his own in a gentle kiss.
The moment is so serene, with snowflakes still dusting their hair and their eyelashes. The white of the snow is almost indistinguishable from the silver of Kakashi’s eyelashes. Yet they exist there, much like the kiss Kakashi presses to his lips. Iruka presses closer, eyes fluttering closed.
“OH WHAT THE FUCK -?!” Naruto’s screech, Iruka is sure, could be heard for miles.
“Oh,” Kakashi mutters against Iruka’s lips with a smile, stealing another kiss for his own amidst the screaming as the other kids snapped awake. “Our children are awake.”