It was early afternoon on Friday when Iruka heard someone knocking on his door. He hadn’t seen Kakashi for over a week now, even though he’d broken into the jounin’s apartment the Tuesday before to drop off a new Icha Icha Paradise and a note. So, it was with surprise and mixed-emotions that Iruka opened the door to find one copy-nin standing on his doormat, looking more than a little disgruntled.

“Here,” Kakashi said gruffly, shoving something into a startled Iruka’s hands, “don’t drop it.” He shuffled on the doormat for a moment, sighed. “Are you going to open it?” he asked tersely.

Iruka blinked, confused, then looked back down at the something, which happened to be a crudely-wrapped package. “Umm…what is it?”

“That’s why you open it,” Kakashi snorted, leaving an unspoken ‘idiot’ at the end of the sentence.

“Come in, then,” Iruka snapped back, turning to storm down his short hallway to the mess he called a kitchen. He shoved some papers off a counter to set the bulky package down, surveying the object once more.

“It’s safe, I swear.”

Iruka poked the package warily and ripped the paper off. And stared. And stared some more. “What is it?”

“It’s a fish,” with another unspoken ‘idiot.’ Indeed, it was a fish, swimming pitifully in a fishbowl. “People get love ferns, right? So I got you a fuck-buddy fish.”

“He looks sick,” Iruka interrupted, eyeing the fish critically.

“You’re welcome.” Kakashi was annoyed now.

“Thank you.” He was still watching the fish, now with a slight look of concern. “Is he supposed to swimming on his side like that?”

“Like what?” Now Kakashi was interested in the fish as well, leaning over Iruka’s shoulder to peer in at the little thing. “Umm…no?”

“Wonder what’s wrong with him,” Iruka muttered thoughtfully. Kakashi looked away, shamefaced. “What,” the teacher asked, confused, “did you do?”

“I dropped him? He was flopping all over and fell, but he seemed to be ok.” His attention in the fish had lagged by this point and he was wandering through the small kitchen, poking through a few cupboards before he opened the fridge.

“You dropped him? And what are you doing in my kitchen? You’re so nosey, you’re almost as bad as Anko.” Iruka was glaring over the top of the fishbowl.

“I gave you a fish,” Kakashi pointed out, his head still in the fridge. “So, I should get food, right? Fair trade and all?”

“I gave you a new book.”

“You destroyed my old one.”

“The fish is defective. Look, he’s running into the walls now.”

“Is he?” Kakashi looked around the fridge’s door to throw an interested look at said fish. “Huh, he is. Well, he’s not defective, just a little bit abused.” He turned his attention back to the fridge. “You’re almost out of milk, and the juice is empty.” He shook a carton to make his point. “Maybe you could get Tsunade to do some jutsu trick or something on him.”

“He’s a fish.”

“He’s our fish.”

“Our fish,” Iruka repeated softly, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “So what are we, Kakashi?”

The jounin kicked the fridge shut, walking purposefully over to Iruka. He leaned close, invading the teacher’s personal space for a few moments before he leaned back, looking over at the fish. “When I saw him, I decided I liked him. He looked like he’d be a friend. So, I bought him and took him home, but I hurt him, even if I didn’t mean to. I’m going to try to help him, so he doesn’t hurt anymore, and sometimes he thinks I’m not interested in him, but I am, because I care, even if I’m too much of an ass to act like it.” He looked back at the teacher, eye curving up in a smile. “Understand?”

“An allegory of a fish?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Then we’re friends?”

“I’d say so.”

“That’s nice,” Iruka murmured, dipping a finger into the fishbowl absently. He flicked water at Kakashi, smile growing. “But you make me sound like a whore.”

Kakashi shrugged noncommittally and flicked water back. “So are you taking him to Tsunade?”

Iruka looked across the room towards a clock, biting his lip. “Umm… I have a shift in the mission room in about half an hour, so I could leave now and stop by her office. But he’s a fish…”

“I’ll go with you,” Kakashi said, reaching out for the fishbowl. Iruka slapped his hands away, grabbing the bowl himself.

“You’d drop him again. Come on, then, let’s go.”

“After you, sensei,” he murmured, laughing softly.

It was needless to say that Tsunade was surprised to see Iruka and Kakashi standing in front of her desk. She was pretty sure she could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen them together outside of work. She was even more surprised to see that Iruka was holding a fishbowl, a pathetic little blue fish swimming about awkwardly.

“The hell?” She’s elegant and tactful.

Iruka flushed then, hands tightening around the fishbowl. Kakashi was just watching her, bland is as bland does.

“Tsunade-sama, it’s about the…umm, the fish. We were wondering if you could do something to help him.” She decided that Iruka was a very cute chuunin indeed.

“We?” She lifted a thin eyebrow, watching Iruka flush even more and Kakashi stare at her, still bland. How she loved her shinobi. “And it’s a fish. A fish.”

“It’s our fish,” Kakashi put in mildly. Iruka nodded frantically.

“Your fish? What are you, married?” She laughed, a soft chuckle. The idea of Kakashi and Iruka together? Ridiculous, Iruka would probably kill the copy-nin.

“Of course not,” Iruka snapped.

“We’re just fuck-buddies,” the copy-nin added to Iruka’s outburst, smiling blandly. Bland bland bland. Tsunade really wished he’d get another facial expression.

“Of course,” Tsunade strangled out, plastering a fake smile on her face. “If you just leave the,” a pause and desperate glance around, “fish here, I’ll see what I can do. Would you like to pick it up before your mission, Iruka-sensei?”

“That’d be wonderful, Hokage-sama,” Iruka said politely, handing the sennin the fish. His fish. Their fish. He tried to ignore the bubbly feeling in his stomach and the urge to toss Kakashi out the window. Once the fish was safely deposited into Tsunade’s hands he beat a hasty retreat, Kakashi following behind lazily.

!-!-!

They were walking through the hallways towards the mission room, Iruka stretching his arms up over his head as he yawned.

“Are you tired?”

“Huh?” Iruka paused for a moment, looking over at Kakashi, before he grinned. “Uh, yeah, a little. The academy just opened up again, and I’m still doing missions.”

“And you’re still going to the mission room?” Kakashi looked as though he was suppressing an urge to whack a certain chuunin atop the head.

“Short shift, only three hours. I promised Keiji I’d cover for him, since he’s on a mission.”

“And then you have a mission?”

Iruka had the grace to look shamefaced, rubbing at his nose. “Just one, but I should be back by tomorrow night, so I can sleep all day Sunday.”

“Before or after you grade the papers, make the lesson plans, and check on all the orphans?” Kakashi asked dryly, turning his attention to the floor as they continued walking down the hall.

“Before,” Iruka answered, shrugging. “Besides, everyone’s busy. You have more missions than me”

“I haven’t had a mission since Tuesday.”

“Well if you’d actually turn in a mission report, then we could give you another one.” All Iruka got in return was a noncommittal shrug.

“Did you hear about Naruto?” Kakashi asked, effectively changing the subject.

“Naruto?”

“Yeah, he’s leaving Konoha to train with Jiraiya for a few years.” Kakashi glanced at Iruka from the corner of his eye, watching him curiously. The teacher suddenly looked very lost, eyebrows bunched up worriedly, teeth biting his lower lip.

“Oh?” A flippant answer at odds with the faint lines of worry crossing his face.

“Uh-huh,” the copy-nin exhaled, tugging his mask down as he grabbed the younger man, pulling his close. Lips brushed over lips, teeth nipping at Iruka’s lower lip, and tongue taking a quick lick over the bite marks, moving to the corner of the chuunin’s mouth, taking in a slight taste of his cheek. Humming triumphantly Kakashi stepped back and lifted his mask back up, eye curving up into a smile.

“Huh?” Iruka’s mouth fell open just the tiniest bit, pink tongue making a quick appearance as he licked at his lips himself, searching for a taste of Kakashi. Poor teacher looked confused.

“You’re cute, sensei,” Kakashi said offhandedly, turning to continue his lazy meander to the mission room.

“But- I- What the hell was that?” Confusion was gone, replaced with exasperation.

“Just a moment of inconsequence, sensei.” The copy-nin waved a hand carelessly, as though he were brushing the moment aside. Iruka bristled and began following him, snarling under his breath.

When they entered the mission room Iruka headed off to the desk, muttering darkly, and Kakashi wandered to the back of one of the lines. A book was tugged out of his vest, snapped open and held in one hand, and he waited. A good half-an-hour, twelve shuffled paces, and sixteen porn-filled pages later he was standing in front of the desk, ignoring Iruka’s look of bafflement.

“Kakashi-san, what can I do for you?” The teacher sounded both pleased and annoyed. Odd. Kakashi looked over the top of his book, blinking when he noticed that Iruka’s eyes were fixed on the little book he was holding. He flicked the book to the side, smiling beneath his mask when the teacher followed the book with his eyes, looking more and more pleased.

“Iruka-sensei.” A simple greeting, as though he hadn’t been following the younger man around for almost an hour now. “You look happy.”

“Ah?” The teacher blinked, then flushed lightly. “I never asked, but that was the right book, wasn’t it?” Kakashi nodded and Iruka practically beamed. “Good, I’m glad. Now, what can I do for you?”

“I have,” he said, digging through his vest with his free hand, “my mission report.” He pulled out a folded and crinkled paper, handing it to Iruka triumphantly.

Iruka took the paper, trying to flatten it out half-heartedly. “Thank you, Kakashi. Did you fill it out this time?”

“Uh-huh,” he said airily, putting his book away. “Just for you, sensei.”

The teacher looked annoyed again when he glanced up. “Thank you, Kakashi-san.” He covered a yawn with a fist, then rubbed at his eye distractedly as he scribbled on the creased paper. “Then if you’d like another mission-”

“Of course,” the copy-nin said, grabbing the list of missions and holding it above his head when Iruka leapt to his feet, reaching out to reclaim the papers. He ignored the chuunin’s protests, eye scanning over the missions until he found the one he was looking for. “This one,” he said, lowering the papers so the teacher could see the mission he was pointing at. “I want this one.”

“That one? But-”

“Where’s the individual mission scroll? Oh, is it this one?” Kakashi tossed the list of missions at Iruka, grabbing a small scroll that was resting at Iruka’s elbow when the younger man flailed, trying to catch the papers aimed for his head.

“-that’s my mission.”

“What did you say?”

“I said-”

“Well, sensei, it’d be nice talking to you, but I’ve got to run. Missions and all that, you know.” Kakashi gave Iruka a mocking salute and poofed out in a swirl of chakra and papers. Iruka swore vehemently and grabbed for the papers, rescuing as many as possible from the makeshift whirlwind.

“Stupid jounin,” he snarled, trying to put the papers back into some semblance of order. The next two hours passed slowly, especially for the innocent bystanders in the mission room. Iruka snapped at almost everyone and everything, from other ninjas to unfinished mission reports. After the fifth shredded report and third customer fleeing the room close to tears a timid Izumo, prodded on by Kotetsu, assured him that he didn’t need to stay in the mission room any longer, that they had everything under control. Iruka apologized and left, rage dwindling as he thought over it. Really, he decided, it was quite stupid to get so upset over something so small and insignificant. By the time Iruka reached the Hokage’s office he wallowing in guilt over his outbursts in the mission room.

“Hokaga-sama?” he asked miserably, poking his head into the office.

“Come in,” Tsunade practically chirped.

“Ah, I’m sorry if I’m early,” Iruka began, “but they didn’t need me in the mission room and-”

“Perfect timing,” Tsunade interrupted from her seat behind her desk, looking up at Iruka over the top of the fishbowl. “I just finished.”

“Is he okay?” Iruka asked apprehensively, watching as Shizune tapped the fishbowl, causing the fish swim around vigorously.

“He’s fine. I rerouted some chakra paths to induce healing. I think it was his internal organs, but they seem to be healing, so he should be fine. Does he have a name?”

“Huh?” Iruka asked, looking very confused.

“I’m assuming he had a name, since he’s important enough to get me to waste my time on,” Tsunade said, not unkindly.

“Yeah, his name’s,” Iruka cast around for the first thing to pop into his head, “Spider. Spider.”

“Spider? He’s cute. Don’t feed him too much for a few days, I don’t want him to overwork his organs. Bring him back next week, and I’ll just look over him once more, and change the routes back to normal.”

“Of course,” Iruka almost stammered, grabbing the fishbowl. “I’m really grateful, really. Thank you. I mean, he’s just a fish, and there’s more important things for you-”

“It’s fine, Iruka. Good luck on your mission.”

“Thank you, Hokage-sama,” he repeated, feeling shamed. He bowed over the fishbowl awkwardly, then fled Tsunade’s office for the second time that day. Tsunade watched him go, tapping her fingers against the desk thoughtfully.

“He always seems to be running away, whenever I see him,” she commented to Shizune.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he’s always running, and Kakashi just drags himself from here to there. Did you know they’re fuck-buddies?”

Shizune made the appropriate gasp and look of astonishment. “No, really? Wouldn’t Iruka kill him?”

“That’s what I thought,” Tsunade hummed.

!-!-!

“What are you doing here?”

It was Sunday afternoon and Kakashi was perched on the windowsill outside Iruka’s living room, one hand raised in greeting and the other holding a duffel bag. “Termites,” he chirped happily, pointing at his duffel bag helpfully.

“Liar,” Iruka said, looking up from his spot across the room, surrounded by stacks of papers.

The jounin shrugged carelessly, dropping into the room. “Got kicked out for a few days while they’re taken care of. Thought we could bond.”

Iruka raised an eyebrow then grabbed one of the stacks of papers, holding it out in Kakashi’s direction. “Here,” he said helpfully.

“What,” the copy-nin asked with slight distaste, “is that?”

“Essays. If you stay, you get to correct them.”

Kakashi shuffled over from the window to grab the papers out of Iruka’s hands and sit next to him, huffing a “fine.”

“So when did you get back from my mission?”

“Just a few minutes ago. I got kicked out of my apartment right after I walked in. What do I use to correct the essays with?” A pen was handed to him and he took it, chewing on the lid thoughtfully. “What was the essay on?”

“Chakra. Why we use it, and how. They need at least three examples of use. Why’d you get back so late?”

“Mmm,” he mumbled against the pen-lid, marking a page. “Took longer than expected. How’s the fish?”

“Spider?”

“Huh?” Kakashi’s mouth fell open, pen-lid falling to the floor with a sharp clink.

“Spider.” Iruka looked away, avoiding Kakashi’s gaze as he blushed. “He needed a name.”

“You named a fish Spider? Our fish?”

The teacher gave a shrug. “What would you prefer, Kakashi Jr.? Don’t answer that.” He scribbled on a few papers, then leaned to the side to pull another stack of papers closer. “He needed a name, I couldn’t keep calling him ‘Fish,’ that’s just cruel. Oh, and I bought him fish food, and this medicine that you put in the water, it’s supposed to keep him healthy, and some plants.” He positively beamed at Kakashi.

“I’m assuming you like him, then,” Kakashi said dryly, retrieving the dropped pen lid.

“Uh-huh. I’m thinking about taking him to show Naruto. Maybe it’ll cheer him up?”

“Take him? Why take the fish?”

Iruka blinked, then sighed, rubbing the scar on his nose. “Naruto’s still in the hospital. He tried to perform a jutsu, I think, and burned out what chakra he’d recovered.”

Kakashi grunted and they both fell silent, the only sounds in the apartment being their breathing and the scratching of pens on paper. Time ticked by slowly, the sun lowering until it shone straight into the window. Kakashi noted, with some amusement, that Iruka seemed to breathing in time with him. He held his breath, grinning when Iruka sucked in a breath and coughed, gasping.

“Bastard,” the chuunin said agreeably, getting up to leave the room. Kakashi laughed and turned his attention back to the papers, pleased to find he was almost done with his stack.

“Here.”

Kakashi looked up from the essays, ducking frantically when something big and round and orange came hurling at his head. “The hell?” he asked incredulously, turning to watch the missile land on the floor with a dull thump and a soft squish.

“It’s an orange,” Iruka informed him dryly, sitting down to his papers once more. “Dinner.”

Kakashi crawled over to where the orange was lying, bruised and somewhat misshapen. “Dinner?”

“Uh-huh,” the teacher said distractedly, peeling his own orange with one hand, quite the feat, and scribbling on a test paper with the other. “I didn’t have time to- what is she saying? I can’t even read- to make anything. If you don’t like- wrong, wrong, wrong- oranges, you might be able to find something in the kitchen. I think there’s some bread-heels left somewhere.”

Kakashi poked his orange, making a face with his eye, and stood, skirting around Iruka to head towards the kitchen. “You want a sandwich, too?”

“Nuh-uh. I hate the heels. They’re all brown and dry.”

Kakashi wandered back into the room a few minutes later, shoving a sandwich into his mouth. He blinked, then tilted his head to the side as he watched Iruka. The chuunin was nibbling on an orange slice hesitantly, taking one small bite, then a bigger one. He gagged, spat the piece of orange out into a paper towel, and began the whole thing again. Nibble, bite, gag, and spit.

“What are you doing?”

Iruka looked up, a piece of orange hanging out of his mouth, and he smiled. “The orange is bad, I think.”

“Then throw it away,” Kakashi grumbled, taking one last bite of his sandwich and handing what was left to Iruka. “You can have my sandwich.” Iruka took the sandwich and tore it more or less in half, handing one of the pieces back to Kakashi. Both men shoved the pieces of sandwich into their mouths, Iruka already marking on more papers.

“Thank you,” he said, eyes fastened on the paper in front of him. “You really didn’t have to help with the papers.”

“No trouble. Iruka?”

“Uh-huh?”

“We need to talk.” Kakashi sat next to the teacher again, picking up his pen to begin correcting papers again.

“I don’t know what about,” Iruka said dismissively, focusing on the papers.

“You said we weren’t friends, and then you said we were. What do you want, Iruka?”

“What do you want,” the teacher countered.

“To be friends would be nice,” Kakashi said thoughtfully, again chewing on the pen lid.

“Isn’t that we’re doing? Being friends?” Iruka set the last paper to the side and stood, stretching. He groaned with his back popped, then sighed.

“That’s what I thought, but you always seem angry.”

Iruka blinked, then looked down at where Kakashi was still sitting. “Angry? I’m not angry, just a little annoyed.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Iruka began, ticking things off on his fingers, “you come waltzing into my home without a by-your-leave, you took my mission, you mock me for naming our fish, and you don’t know boundaries.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Kakashi asked innocently, if one ignored the fact that he was trying to tug Iruka’s pants down.

“Boundaries,” Iruka snapped, lobbing his pen at Kakashi’s head, which was about two feet below his own. It was with a wild burst of glee and an inordinate amount of pleasure that he watched the pen bounce off the jounin’s head.

“I know, boundaries,” Kakashi muttered, rubbing his head. “I’ll respect your boundaries, and all of that.”

“Good,” Iruka said, satisfied that the older man was no longer trying to pull off his pants. “I’m going to bed. I don’t have a guest bedroom, so you’ll have to share with me…” He trailed off when he saw the look on Kakashi’s face. “Boundaries?”

“Uh-huh,” Kakashi said, smiling a bit too innocently. “Of course, sensei.”

!-!-!

Iruka was annoyed. He was trying, as hard as he could, which was very hard indeed, to fall asleep, but someone was touching his back, fingertips tracing the scar on his spine. Kakashi had wandered in when Iruka had been changing into his pajamas, and it’d taken the threat of a kunai to certain dangly bits to stop Kakashi from ‘helping’ Iruka get ready for bed. Now he was trying to sleep and Kakashi, pajamaed up for the night, was petting him under the pretense of helping him ‘relax.’ He sighed, shoving his face into a pillow to try and ignore the fact that the fingertips were occasionally dipping far lower than the scar, and even the waistband of his pajamas.

“It’s newer, and big,” Kakashi informed him musingly. Iruka groaned in response and shoved his head further into the pillow. “Where’d it come from?” the jounin asked, dragging his fingertips along the teacher’s spine. “I don’t remember you getting hurt on any missions.” There was a mumble and groan from the teacher. “What?” he asked again, confused.

“I said,” Iruka grumbled, turning his face away from the pillow, “Naruto.”

“Naruto did this?” Kakashi voice was most dubious.

“No,” Iruka growled out, shoving the pillow over his eyes again. “God, don’t you ever sleep? Someone else did it.”

“Who?”

“A friend.”

Kakashi tugged the pillow away from a protesting Iruka, pulling it away to look at the chuunin. “Nice friend.”

“Yeah, well,” he replied grudgingly, “I seem to choose the best ones.”

“Should I be insulted?”

“Are you ever?”

Kakashi laughed as he pushed the pillow back into Iruka’s face and straddled his back, pushing him back down onto the bed. “Go to sleep, ‘Ruka.” His fingers splayed out over the back, rubbing light little circles across the darker skin. The younger man put up a sleepy token protest, yawning half-way through it. Kakashi leered shamelessly, pushing a bit more with his fingertips, turning the petting into an impromptu massage.

“Kakashi, go-” a yawn here, “to sleep.” He yawned again, clutching his pillow tighter. “I have classes and- ow! Bitch!” A half of a heartbeat later and Kakashi was off Iruka’s back, hands held up harmlessly.

“Did it hurt?”

“Of course it hurt,” Iruka groaned, “it’s a scar. You know, wound, blood.”

“Scars shouldn’t hurt.”

“It’s new,” Iruka said defensively, “so why shouldn’t it hurt?”

“How new?” He edged closer. “It didn’t look new enough to hurt.”

“I don’t know, a year or so.” Iruka swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up as he tugged a blanket off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“Now?” Kakashi asked incredulously,

“Yes, now.” Iruka disappeared out of the room, footsteps moving down the hall. Kakashi stretched and stood to follow him, scratching his chest lazily.

“A year ago?” he said to announce himself as he entered the kitchen. “Then does that mean it’s from Mizuki?”

Iruka jerked at Kakashi’s voice, then coughed, orange juice coming out of his nose. “God, Kakashi!” he snapped, pressing a hand against his nose as he continued coughing. He could hear Kakashi behind him, laughing hysterically, and threw the, thankfully closed, carton at him. “It burns,” he whined, trying not to breath out of his nose as he wiped away the tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Stop laughing!” He sounded as though he was about to either cry or scream and Kakashi bit his lip, trying not to laugh.

Iruka stormed past Kakashi to the bathroom, still dragging the blanket with him. Kakashi snorted and shoved the orange juice carton back into the fridge, following Iruka down the short hall. He stopped outside the bathroom, watching as Iruka washed his face and tried to blow the rest of the orange juice out of his nose. When he laughed again, however muffled it was, Iruka glared at him in the mirror.

“I hate you,” he informed the copy-nin, blowing his nose again. “You stupid, stupid jerk.” Kakashi only laughed harder and Iruka threw the orange-stained tissue at him. “Go clean the kitchen,” he snapped, pushing past him to go back into the bedroom. He could hear Kakashi laugh all the way to the kitchen and he flopped down on his bed, pulling the blanket over his head, tears of embarrassment and pain still pricking at the corners of his eyes.

A few minutes later there was the sound of footsteps coming back down the hall and Iruka whimpered, pulling the blanket closer around him. The footsteps paused next to the bed, and then the bed lowered under extra weight, springs creaking.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi put forth softly from the far side of the bed, and for a moment he actually sounded apologetic. “If I knew-” Whatever else he was going to say never actually got said, because he was laughing again. Iruka snorted and rolled over, grabbing Kakashi to pull him closer.

“Shut up,” he said, his voice lacking venom. “I hate you, you know.” He threw an arm over the older man, complete with blanket, and sighed as Kakashi moved a bit closer.

“I’ve noticed,” Kakashi laughed.

“Damnit, Kakashi, go to sleep.”

“Ow, you kicked me-”

“Go to sleep!”

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