Author: fallen-angel-of-repression
Series: Naruto
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka
Genre: Romance/Various

Notes: I will be posting my drabbles from various LJ challenges here, three at a time. I write one to two a week, so at the very least I will be posting every three weeks until... well, for awhile. I will keep this until completed (because it technically is), but if you want to keep track of when I update this, be sure to Story and/or Author Alert. Review if you love me!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Naruto franchise or any characters or events that align with those of the series, and do not claim to do so. I also do not claim to own any copyrighted items, any items not copyrighted but still owned by another party, any real locations I may mention, or crossed-over characters I may incorporate. I do own this story, the plot, and any original characters or locations I create.

-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-

A Resplendent Equilibrium

Word Count: 300
Summary: It is with Iruka's knowing touch that the purportedly fragile glass—and possibly Kakashi's psyche—will hold.
Notes: M. Non-AU, but no spoilers. One-shot. For kakairu100 (challenge: fragile glass).

-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-

Adjusting the amount of chakra in time with every one of the older man's thrusts, Iruka closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of Kakashi's reckless abandon. It was this abandon that led to their current position: Iruka's legs hooked onto the other's shoulders; Iruka's back against his bedroom window; and Iruka's hands pressing chakra into the glass so it didn't shatter when Kakashi bucked into him once again.

Iruka knew that the copy nin allowed no one else to see him as wild—as free—as he was now. It was a shame, really, because when the jounin released himself from all of his self-imposed restraints, glorious described him like no other word could. No mask. No clothes. No hitate. No facade of indifference. Nothing. But, no matter how beautiful Kakashi was at the moment, the teacher understood that something must have gone horribly wrong for Kakashi to visit. Hopefully, it was not because another name would have to be carved into the memorial stone... but Iruka could think of nothing else that would bring the elusive ex-ANBU to him.

The teacher allowed himself a wanton moan when Kakashi leaned down and bit the side of his neck. Iruka enjoyed the pain just as much as he enjoyed Kakashi throwing him up against a wall (or, in this case, window). But it was the delicate balance within Kakashi that thrilled Iruka more than a kiss, or touch, or fuck could ever do (although they were also very nice). The jaded jounin willingly embodied the rue—pain—wrath—hate—revulsion that came with living in a town like Konohagakure while still maintaining a core of hope—pleasure—love.

And Iruka loved the fact it was that him—and his eternal devotion—that kept Kakashi's resplendent equilibrium as intact as his bedroom's now chakra-infused windowpane.

-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-

1141

Word Count: 300
Summary: If one could not control it, it—that crass trill of shame—would no longer be a thought, but a feeling. Then a temptation.

Notes: M for discussion on suicidality. Non-AU. Hugs for anyone who gets the title reference!!! For the following: kakairu100 (challenge: 4- war); 52_flavours (prompt: 44- no opportunity for glory or avarice); and 31_day (prompt: 3- It gets under your skin, life).

-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-

To say that it has not crossed his mind at least once would be a lie.

Every shinobi who has drawn blood at least once has had the sickening feeling of hopeless disgust run through them. The burden of taking a life—or at least being willing to if the battle escalated—and the horror of holding that power are overwhelming to a human psyche. It is a power no man should control, but hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of shinobi do just that. That power—the ability of being master to that elusive idea of life—delves into the very flesh of every single nin, threatening to burst the skin with its sheer intensity. But there is no true opportunity for glory or avarice from this power: only grief. Only pain.

If one could not control it, it—that crass trill of shame—would no longer be a thought, but a feeling. Then a temptation.

Then an action.

Then, finally, a... suicide.

To say that he will ever stop feeling this way would be a lie; but to say that he—Hatake Kakashi—will surrender would be the biggest lie of them all.

Because Kakashi is not lost, for he has found his reason to continue in, ironically, the form of a fellow shinobi.

So, tonight, after he stumbles into their room and falls onto the previously sleeping man on the bed, all Kakashi needs to say is, “Make the pain stop,” before his lifeline—his love—his Umino Iruka—offers him a tender kiss that saves the exhausted jounin once again.

-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-

Eternally Present

Word Count: 312
Summary: He had made mistakes, but there were so many possibilities for good that Kakashi only trusted himself to see. (Happy birthday, Kakashi-sama!)

Notes: G. Non-AU. Not a spoiler if you know what happens to Sasuke before time-jump. I apologize if this is too... um, stream of conscience (blame Joyce). For the following: queershinobi100 (challenge: 2- fate); 52_flavours (prompt: 40- A joy was erstwhile, In thy voice and thy smile).

-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-

Fate had no control over him. He refused it; he hated it. He simply would not allow some mystical being(s)/forms/ideals dictating where the course of his life led him.

And yet, so much had changed in just a single year: three hundred sixty-five days: two hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. A year... which was how long it took to begin to care deeply for each of his young comrades only to have everything shatter beneath him when he failed to keep one of his (who was just a mere child) safe. There was so much pain... So much disgust and anger and disappointment... So much had happened that he wanted to take comfort in believing that some higher authority had already documented each and every moment of his future.

But Hatake Kakashi did not believe in fate.

He could not force himself to let Someone—or perhaps Something—guide him without his say. He would not surrender that which always brought him to a state of utter revelry: he would not surrender his control.

Yes he had made mistakes and he probably would always feel the agony of losing Sa... of losing him. Always. Even if they managed to bring him back, even after he embraced his almost-apprentice to prove that he was truly there and alive, Kakashi would know that he failed the boy once upon a time...

Yes. He had made mistakes, but there were so many possibilities for good that Kakashi only trusted himself to see.

And what led him to this epiphany?

Well, that came in the form of a compassionate schoolteacher who stopped by one queer evening to see how Kakashi was holding up. Several conversations later, the fair-haired man knew. He was addicted to the joyous, eternally present smile on Iruka's lips, and he had the opportunity to have good.

And take that opportunity Kakashi did.

-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-ooo0oo0o0oo0ooo-

Review!