The dreams of ninja were often disturbing, but this was morbid even by Hatake Kakashi's standards. It seems too real, Kakashi thought. It must be genjutsu. He tried to dispel it with no luck.

"It's not a genjutsu," said the man sitting on the edge of his bed.

Kakashi grabbed the kunai under his pillow and threw it. The other man swatted it away with ease and it stuck into the wall behind him with a hollow thud. "That's no way to greet an old friend," the man said.

"Who are you?" Kakashi demanded.

"Don't tell me you don't recognize me," the man said. "I know you do."

"You're not him," Kakashi said quietly. "Obito died a long time ago."

"That's true," Obito said. "It's been over fifteen years. And you've visited the memorial stone every day since then."

Kakashi glared.

"Surprised I know about that?" Obito said. "Why shouldn't I know it? You were speaking to me, after all." Obito moved closer. "You don't think I'm real. Don't I feel real to you?" Obito touched Kakashi's bare face. The bed creaked beneath his weight. "Well?"

"You're definitely solid," Kakashi admitted. "But you're not him."

My ANBU sword is in the closet, Kakashi thought. And I can't get to it from here. Damn it, I'm slipping.

"Stop looking for a weapon," Obito said. He leaned over Kakashi, his face inches away. Up close he smelled of earth and old, dried blood. A few beams of moonlight slipped in through the curtains, making Obito's skin glow. One red sharingan burned above Kakashi; on the other side of Obito's face there was only darkness.

"Ghosts don't age," Kakashi said weakly. "If you're him, then why do you look older?"

"Oh, ghosts don't age, huh? I suppose the great Hatake Kakashi would know. You always had to have all the answers, didn't you? But maybe I can look as old as I want to. After all, when it comes to being dead, I'm the expert."

Obito's lips gently brushed against Kakashi's. Ignoring the logical part of his brain, which was screaming at him, Kakashi didn't push him away. "You're cold," he whispered.

"Then you'd better warm me up," Obito whispered back. "I only have one night, you know. We should make the most of it."

Kakashi knew he shouldn't, but his hands seemed to move on their own. He slid his fingers beneath Obito's shirt and pulled it off. The flesh on one side of Obito's body felt rough. Kakashi's hand hovered over it, unsure.

"Go ahead," Obito said. "It doesn't hurt."

Kakashi could feel places where bones had broken and never healed, could feel them shift as Obito moved above him. "None of it hurts anymore," Obito whispered. His breath on Kakashi's neck was as cool as an autumn breeze. His hands were cold, but they grew warm as they explored Kakashi's body.

Kakashi couldn't repress a moan. There was an awkward edge to Obito's movements, but he clearly knew what he was doing.

"Nervous?" Obito asked, trying to hide the tenseness in his voice.

"If I lie and say yes," Kakashi said. "Will it make you feel better?"

Obito laughed softly. "You're still a jerk," he said.

"I know," Kakashi admitted. Tired of waiting, he pulled Obito closer and wrapped his arms around him. "Take me," he whispered.

Obito gasped as Kakashi guided him into place, and then he took over. Every part of Obito was cold, but like his hands, the rest of him warmed quickly as the two of them moved together.

Kakashi's nails pressed into Obito's back. He was careful not to break the skin, though he supposed it wouldn't have mattered. What difference would it make on a body so broken? What difference would it make to a ghost? Obito was dead. He'd been dead for years. This isn't right, Kakashi thought. But it's only a dream.

Kakashi let out a soft cry as he came, muffling the noise in Obito's shoulder. Obito wasn't far behind. When he was spent, he collapsed across Kakashi, and lay there still as a corpse. Kakashi expected to wake up then, but he didn't.

They held each other for what seemed like hours. Obito's fingertips traced every scar on Kakashi's body, every curve of every muscle. Neither of them actually spoke until finally Obito broke the silence.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"I'm not," Kakashi said. "You are."

Obito smiled sadly. "I guess you're right," he said, wiping away the tears sliding down one side of Kakashi's face. He kissed Kakashi slowly, making it last as long as possible. "It's almost dawn. I can't stay any longer."

"There are so many things I want to say to you," Kakashi said.

"Idiot," Obito said lovingly. "I've heard them all. Every day."

Kakashi kissed Obito fiercely, one last time.

"Sleep now," Obito whispered. The words had hardly been spoken before Kakashi felt himself slipping into sleep as though a jutsu had been cast on him. "See you at the memorial stone," were the last words he thought he heard before everything went black.

Kakashi woke up sometime after dawn, alone and unreasonably exhausted. Sunlight shined in through the thin curtains and everything seemed normal again. Things always seemed so normal in the daylight.

Of all the unsettling dreams he'd ever had, that one had surely been the worst. It had been strangely nice at the same time, he had to admit, but making love to his dead best friend was still something Kakashi was going to try to forget. He didn't want the memory of Obito's cold skin on his, or the feel of Obito's crushed bones. That wasn't how Kakashi wanted to remember him.

Kakashi desperately wanted the dream to fade as his dreams usually did, but this time he had the horrible feeling it wouldn't be that easy. Not when the kunai he'd thrown at Obito was still stuck in his bedroom wall.