Disclaimer: Dustbunny doesn't own Naruto and makes no monetary or otherwise tangible profit from this work
A/N: Well, I'd like to say that I wrote this for Kylie-Chan's birthday, but since I promised this some time last year, I guess it's more like I posted in time for her birthday. I think... if my clock is to be trusted, which I doubt. Happy Birthday at any rate, sorry if I missed it.
Anyway, I don't like this quite as much as what I had originally and this is shorter than I'd have liked (which makes me laugh, because I'm immature), but I think it came out... relatively decent, if dry. There's some inexplicit sexual activity, which I blame for the length (heh, I said length... it's late, okay?); I didn't want to have to stress over the rating so I wrote around the sex. I don't usually write sex at all, let alone write around it, so... Eh, the not-hot "sex scene" probably gets my point across better, anyway, whatever my point was in the first place
Iruka wasn't surprised, exactly, to find Kakashi waiting for him, nose in a copy of Icha Icha Paradise, upon returning from the market. On the contrary, while Iruka had always been too embarrassed to stand outside Kakashi's apartment like a puppy that had been turned out until the elder man finally put in an appearance, Kakashi was known to lean casually for any amount of time against Iruka's door, leaving no question as to who he was waiting for and showing no sign of shame. So, no, Iruka wasn't surprised so much as he was taken aback-- he'd thought that Kakashi would be leaving for a mission almost directly upon returning from the first, and would therefore spend any down time preparing.
"I finished early," Kakashi said without looking up.
Ah, that explained that then. No other form of conversation was exchanged as Kakashi pushed away from the door so that Iruka could open it. There was nothing to say. It was clear at a glance that the mission had been successful, Kakashi had come out of it okay and that he had time to kill before he set out on his next one. To ask or to comment would be pointless. Maybe if Kakashi had appeared out of nowhere as Iruka was sitting down to a meal, as he sometimes did, they would have exchanged small talk, but Iruka knew that Kakashi wasn't here for conversation.
Comfortable silence followed them as they left their shoes in the hall and walked through Iruka's living room to the kitchen to drop the groceries off in the kitchen. Though Kakashi didn't look away from his book the whole time, he did make a barely distinguishable sort of grunt. This was his usual way of teasing Iruka about his clean apartment, rare among single male shinobi. Iruka sniffed quietly at this mockery, though it was at least better than Kotetsu's sole visit-- he'd taken a slow look around before declaring sagely that Iruka would one day make some lucky man a fine wife. Iruka had made a point of never inviting him over again. Really, it wasn't as if Iruka was particularly clean; he just didn't tend to do anything that created a lasting mess, contrary to when he was a child. When he was done with any papers he'd brought home, he put them all away-- it was common sense. That and his parents had been clean freaks, which he imagined must have something to do with it.
Nothing if not a considerate host, Iruka simply set his whole bag of vegetables into the crisper of his fridge rather than sort everything into its usual place (he wasn't an organized person by nature, really, but the system helped when he was in a hurry). No sooner had he closed the refrigerator door than he was pressed back against it, Kakashi's still-masked face very close to his. Having foreseen this, Iruka quickly put up one hand to stop the kiss.
"I eat in here," Iruka said, words muffled against the back of his own hand.
"Against the fridge?"
With a sigh and an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Kakashi backed off so that Iruka could lead the way to the bedroom. Apparently Iruka didn't move fast enough for him, though, because said chuunin found himself being carried along the familiar trek bridal style after three steps.
"What the-- do I look like a woman to you?" Iruka demanded, face heating up as he tried to wriggle his way back to his feet.
"Oh, the many inappropriate responses to choose from," was Kakashi's answer as he kicked the bedroom door open and, crossing the room in what felt like two steps, dumped Iruka on the bed, which protested noisily.
Any retort died forgotten on Iruka's lips as Kakashi settled over him and caught him up in a kiss. It was still odd to Iruka to kiss someone through a piece of cloth, but the sensation wasn't unpleasant. In fact the mask was unexpectedly smooth, and warm from Kakashi's breath and body heat; the friction against his chapped lips made Iruka shiver. This shiver was quickly followed by a displeased grunt as Kakashi began to tug impatiently at the fasten of Iruka's trousers, settling his weight a little too heavily on Iruka's chest.
"How long do you have?"
"A little more than half an hour."
The hands at Iruka's belt line stopped tugging and instead stroked Iruka's inner thighs as Kakashi's masked lips ghosted over Iruka's jaw and neck, which meant that he was sorry if he was being rough or inconsiderate, but he was in a hurry. Iruka sighed and wiggled into the minstrations, one of his own hands reaching around Kakashi for a grope, which meant that all was forgiven and they may as well get on with it. Iruka reached up with his free hand to undo Kakashi's vest, but was caught by the wrist, which meant they wouldn't be getting naked this time. Displeased but understanding, Iruka instead reached towards his night stand drawer for the tube of lubricant he kept there. In the meantime, Kakashi's hands trailed back up to the fly of Iruka's pants, though said jounin settled for teasing Iruka to attention through the material.
"B-before I forget-- ah! -- last time I was at your apartment, I, uh, ungh--"
"You left something there," Kakashi cut him off. "A bag. I put it up-- is there something important in it?"
"Yeah, I'll need to get it," Iruka said breathlessly, face red from embarrassment as well as arousal.
"You'll get it."
"But you're leaving--"
"You'll get it."
"You could have just brought it over," Iruka grumbled under his breath, but the matter was forgotten when Kakashi finally got to unfastening Iruka's pants and took firm hold of what he uncovered. For a moment Iruka was so distracted that he dug his nails into the face of his drawer rather than dig within it, and Kakashi made a point of coolly reaching over and pulling out the lube. Iruka muttered a halfhearted insult under his breath, but next moment Kakashi had leaned back on his haunches; this was the cue for Iruka to turn over. Resignedly, the latter complied, moving automatically into position.
Not that Iruka didn't appreciate the unspeakable trust that must exist between two experienced shinobi for one to turn his back to the other like this, but doggy style was not his preferred position, whether he was the one mounting or the one being mounted. He'd been with relative few partners for a shinobi his age, but he'd always been face to face with them during sex. More interesting ways to twist the body, in Iruka's opinion, and much more personal; there was always room for that, Iruka felt, whatever the situation.
This train of thought was rather rudely derailed as Kakashi, in what seemed to be one fluid motion, pulled Iruka's pants down around his thighs and thrust two lube-slick fingers into the opening he uncovered; it was a part of the process that Iruka would have felt much more comfortable doing himself (some little part of his brain still flinched and squealed "ew!" at having someone else's fingers there), but he it that it was-- uhn-- faster this way. Behind him, Iruka knew that Kakashi was lowering his pants just far enough, applying more lube to his arousal-swollen penis and possibly working himself into fuller readiness; Iruka hadn't returned much favor, now that he thought of it, but it tended to take less for Kakashi when he was in the mood.
The fingers spread like a pair of blunt scissors and Iruka felt Kakashi's tip in ready just outside, hesitating-- Kakashi's way of asking if Iruka was ready. Grunting impatiently, Iruka backed over the head, ignoring the shocked squeak from his bed springs at the motion (really, you'd think they'd be used to it) -- this, obviously, was Iruka's way of saying that of course he was, just get on with it. In a bit of a hurry himself, Kakashi heeded the unspoken order.
From then on it was all measured thrusts and pleased moans and groans, perhaps the occasion gasp for breath. It wasn't at all like when Kakashi had time to stay and undress, to mess around for a while first, to throw in a little conversation that Iruka would later deny as vehemently as an accusation of kicking kittens in his spare time-- red-faced for a very different reason, of course. As it was it just felt too heavy-- not the hot, sweaty heavy, but the heavy that came from too much clothing separating body from body. Sure, he could easily feel Kakashi leaned over him, lips temporarily free from their black cloth prison as Kakashi sucked hard at the pulse point in Iruka's neck; no, he wasn't about to complain about the hand, still slick with lube, that had reached around to stroke his length in rhythm. Still, something about the whole thing felt locked, as it tended to, like Kakashi's absent apartment-- only there was no option to circle the block and check back later. While Iruka'd had a few sessions of casual sex in his time, it had never felt so impersonal; he couldn't begin to understand how it still felt so detached after so much time, after meals and conversations as well as varying sessions of sex. From time to time Iruka wondered why he didn't simply throw his hands up at the whole of the business.
Now was not one of those times.
Two more thrusts, hard and fast, and a full-length stroke along his straining erection finished Iruka off and he came hard all over what had been newly-laundered sheets, biting viciously into his pillow to keep from screaming as pleasure exploded from deep within, reaching out to every nerve ending and then receding back like a lazy tide. Three more thrusts and a grunt later, Kakashi had pulled out and soiled the bedding even further, which was at least preferable to the squishy, sticky feeling that followed releasing inside. While Iruka stretched out and gathered his bearings in deep breaths, at liberty to do so, he could hear Kakashi do a quick cleanup job on Iruka's sheets and set everything right with his clothing; Iruka never bothered anymore for eye corner peeks at Kakashi's naked face, and found no other reason not to close his eyes-- just for a minute, of course, then he'd go shower.
Kakashi was at the front door before Iruka's eyes snapped open and he jumped out of bed, stumbling the first step before he pulled his pants up proper and then sprinting the distance with a hurried "hey, wait!"
Feeling a bit foolish as he stopped before a typically slouching Kakashi, who had one hand on the door knob and the other deep in a pocket, Iruka flashed a sheepish grin and explained, "Sorry, but my bag--"
So fast that Iruka didn't see it, the door on the knob pulled down Kakashi's mask and the one buried in the pocket was pressing something small and metallic into Iruka's palm. The whole thing was over in a second and then Kakashi was out the door and gone, Iruka left slack-jawed behind him. That... that had never happened. Kakashi had never kissed him without the mask, not on the mouth. There was a meaning behind this though Iruka's brain felt a touch too frazzled at the moment to be put to figuring it out.
With a blink and a shake of the head Iruka realized he was holding something, whatever Kakashi had, er, handed to him. Uncurling his already slack fingers, rather proud of himself for managing to hold onto whatever it was, Iruka glanced down at what was in his hand.
Then he glanced up at the wall, then back down again-- then he screwed his eyes shut and blinked a couple of times before looking again; he'd seen it right the first time.
Iruka was holding a set of house keys, warm from body heat, and Kakashi's apartment number was imprinted along the bows.
Praise appreciated, concrit treasured, flames raspberried