As always Kakashi and Iruka aren't mine. I asked but they turned me down.

First Kiss

"Iruka when was the first time you noticed me. I mean, looked at me and thought of me as more than just another crazy jounin."

The two men were tangled in post coital bliss, floating on a cloud of fuzzy-edged sated pleasure. Still pressed together as if trying to hold onto as much contact as possible between them.

"Mission room. The first time you came in after I started working there. I didn't know who you were until I saw the name on the scroll. Then I nearly fainted. God you were hot. I was in agony knowing that you'd only be there for a few minutes, but at the same time, I couldn't wait to watch you walk away."

Iruka hitched up the sheet around their shoulders. To block the breeze that was fluttering the curtains at the open window from their sweat dampened skin.




Kakashi rolled over so that Iruka was pinned under him. He licked the salt from the line of his scar. "What do you mean? Why would I lie?"

Iruka's lips pulled back into a grin and his body vibrated with silent laughter. "If that's all there was to it, you wouldn't have asked."

Kakashi kissed the tip of his nose and rolled off again. Lying flat on his back, limbs flopped on either side.

Iruka snuggled up to him. "Will you tell me?"

"Nothing to tell."

If Iruka didn't remember then maybe he was wrong. Maybe Iruka wasn't the boy. It was silly, it didn't matter.

So why had he asked?

The first time he'd seen him he'd been with his team, leaving the village for a mission near the border with Stone. They'd been passing the academy when a shriek of laughter had made him turn. He'd seen the bounce of a dark ponytail in the heavy summer air, and the flash of an impish grin. Then the boy had run off with the rest of his playmates. The boy wouldn't remember him of course. He hadn't even looked in his direction.

The second time he wouldn't remember him either. He'd been in his full ANBU uniform, waiting outside Sandaime's office. The boy had grown longer, and thinner, but was unmistakably the same. He'd smiled at him shyly, at the assassin under the mask. And his smile was warm and genuine, but with just the slightest undercurrent of defiance in it. Just enough for Kakashi to know that the reason he was waiting to see the Hokage wasn't a good one.

But the third time he should remember. He'd been on his way home from sparring with some of the other juonins, most of them at least twice his age. He was dirty and sweaty and had been looking forward to a long hot bath, but had been jolted from his mood of happy exhaustion by a noise. The sound of quiet, desperate sobs, coming from a house that he had thought abandoned after the kyuubi attack. The house was as poorly tended inside as out, but in the shadows of a dusty room he'd found a boy. The boy. His boy. Tucked in a corner, his back to the wall, with his head bowed into his drawn up knees, weeping.

Kakashi had crouched in front of him, then pulled him onto his lap and held him until he'd cried himself out. Letting him cry for both of them, to shed the tears of sorrow that for all his sorrows, he'd never been able to shed himself. Then, when the boy had choked out his last dry sob, he'd blotted his face with the cuffs of his shirt and kissed him.

It was a clumsy, awkward kiss, as all first kisses are. But filled with hunger for affection, need for loving contact with another human being, and the first stirrings of desire from their adolescent bodies. As they pulled away, the look the boy had given him had burned into his soul, branding him as his forever.

He'd stopped at the house, entering and searching it many times after that, but had never seen the boy again. Had it been Iruka? If only he could remember the scar. But in the images in his memory, the boy's eyes burned too brightly and his sweet face and shining hair were to distracting for anything so insignificant to show through. A village of ninja's is full of scars.

Was the boy who'd stolen his heart the same person as the man who held it now? Well, in the end it didn't matter, he knew that in his mind they'd become one and the same long ago.

"So Iruka, when was your first kiss?"