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alyssaallyrion · 3 years

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How much of that did you hear? (Iruka x Kakashi)

Rating: T

Summary: In which Kakashi eavesdrops on a conversation and learns something he wasn't supposed to.

A/N:

- Written for KakaIru Month ( hosted by @kakairu-fest ) Day 17 Prompts: Drunk Confessions.

- - Drunk confessions prompt combined with Bewitchedbysparkles's request for "KakaIru, with "How much of that did you hear?""

ao3 link

The soft click of the window latch brings a satisfied smile to Kakashi’s face - finally. Sliding the window open, Kakashi glances around before slipping into the darkness of Iruka’s apartment. Quickly now, before he gets back.

It all started a few weeks ago, when Kakashi, a little too deep into his cups after a particularly difficult mission, decided to ask Guy for romantic advice, which, in hindsight, perhaps, was not his smartest decision.

“Guy,” Kakashi remembered saying, “If you were…interested in someone, how would you let them know?”

Guy looked up from his sake, suddenly serious, “Why, Kakashi? Has someone finally caught your eye?”

Yes, he thought.

“I’m just asking,” Kakashi said nonchalantly, resting his chin on his palm.

“I’d simply tell them of my heart’s most sincere affections,” Guy smiled at Kakashi, “There’s nothing to fear when the power of youth is on your side.”

Kakashi sighed – if he could “simply talk” to Iruka, he’d never be in this position in the first place. But Kakashi had never been good with feelings – or with words when it came to talking about those feelings. As far as Kakashi was concerned, facing multiple S-rank criminals was less terrifying than the way his heart threatened to burst out of his chest any time Iruka smiled at him.

No, this won’t do.

Kakashi’s own list of ideas was running rather thin. It seemed Iruka hadn’t figured out that turning in terrible mission reports and sitting in a tree outside his classroom window reading Icha Icha were Kakashi’s ways of showing interest. Let’s see if Guy has any other thoughts.

“And if you couldn’t tell them, how would you make your feelings known?”

Guy was quiet for a moment, pondering, then a bright smile returned to his face, “I would get them a heartfelt gift – something I know they’d love - which would reveal the depth of my affections.”

A gift? That Kakashi could do.

Kakashi smiled – with Iruka’s birthday coming up next month, this was the perfect time. There was only one problem – he had no idea what kind of gift Iruka would want to receive. That left Kakashi with a few choices, most obvious of which – at least to him – was to sneak into Iruka’s apartment and look around in hopes of finding clues to what Iruka liked.

Now, standing inside Iruka’s dark apartment, Kakashi glances around, studying his surroundings. The first thing Kakashi notices is just how cozy the space is – it’s clear Iruka put in a lot of effort into making his apartment a true home. There’s a scent of cinnamon in the air, warm and rich, matching quilts rest atop couch and armchairs in the living room, and the many potted plants standing upon the windowsills are clearly cared for very well. Unlike any plant that had the misfortune of finding itself in Kakashi’s own apartment.

Kakashi notes the few paintings on the walls – all clearly drawn by a child, likely Naruto, and lovingly framed by Iruka. A tall bookshelf next to the couch catches Kakashi’s attention, and he walks over to it. The middle shelf is empty, save for two photographs - in the first one, a ten-year-old Iruka is standing between his parents, smiling brightly at the camera, and, in the second one, an already adult Iruka is standing with Naruto, whose happy smile rivals his own. Kakashi’s heart clenches as he feels familiar guilt uncoil in his chest.

Naruto was the son of his sensei, and Kakashi knows that he should have been taking care of him all those years, yet he cannot bring himself to get close to the boy – instead, he watches from a distance.

But with Iruka in his life, Naruto should be alright.

Consumed by his thoughts, Kakashi doesn’t hear the voices outside the apartment door until it’s too late. The key turns in the lock, and Kakashi has only a split second to make a decision. Quickly, he returns the picture to the shelf, then glances around and darts to a door, which, as it turns out, leads to a tiny closet.

There isn’t enough space to stand comfortably between cleaning supplies and storage boxes, but Kakashi is hardly in any position to complain. He tries to stay as still as possible, conceals his chakra signature, and listens.

The apartment door finally opens.

“Oh, new plants?” he hears Anko’s voice, “Good addition – I must say, they make the room look quite cozy.”

“Thank you,” Iruka replies, then adds, “Please, make yourself at home – I’ll go to the kitchen and get us something to drink. What would you like?”

“Something strong,” Anko chuckles, and Kakashi hears her plop down on the couch.

By their voices, Kakashi can tell that both Iruka and Anko are very drunk – which is to be expected, since Kakashi picked this particular night to break into Iruka’s apartment specifically because he knew that Iruka, Kotetsu, Izumo, Anko, Genma, and Raido were headed to the “Broken Kunai” to celebrate Kotetsu and Izumo’s engagement.

The sound of steps followed by glass clanking against wood notifies Kakashi that Iruka has returned.

“Oh,” Anko says excitedly, “That’s some good stuff. Though I’m a little surprised – never pegged you for the type to drink something like this.”

“Double shifts at the Mission Desk three days in a row would do that to a person,” Iruka laughs, and Kakashi hears the sound of liquid being poured into cups.

“I can only imagine,” Anko replies.

Silence falls upon them for a moment. Kakashi shifts uncomfortably, trying to make as little noise as possible – his legs already start to feel stiff from leaning over the boxes at his feet – and hopes that Anko and Iruka’s late-night drinking session will be over soon.

“So,” Anko starts slowly, “About that thing I asked you at the bar…”

“Do you have to bring it up again?” Iruka sighs.

“Oh, come on, Iruka,” Anko says, “Don’t be like this. I always tell you everything.”

“You don’t have to always tell me everything,” Iruka chuckles, not unkindly.

“We are friends,” Anko protests, “And that’s what friends do. So, it’s only natural for me to want to know what’s going on in my friend’s romantic life.”

Kakashi leans closer to the door, straining to catch every word.

“You don’t have to ask in front of everyone,” Iruka says after a pause.

“Well, luckily, now it’s just the two of us, and you have no excuse,” Kakashi can almost hear Anko smirk, “So tell me – is there something going on between you and Kakashi? I’ve seen the way he stares at you – and how you smile at him when you think no one’s looking.”

Kakashi’s breath hitches in his throat.

“Nothing’s going on,” Iruka replies, and almost palpable disappointment in his voice sends Kakashi’s heart racing in his chest.

“But you want it to,” Anko nudges him on, “I know you do – the blush on your face doesn’t lie.”

Iruka is silent for a moment. Kakashi holds his breath and feels his heart pound in his head, waiting for Iruka to respond.

“Yes,” he says finally.

It feels as though the room spins around him, and Kakashi has to hold on to the wall to still himself. He can hardly believe his ears - Iruka likes him?

“Aha, I knew it! I knew you liked him!” Anko exclaims victoriously, then adds after a pause, “Although, to be perfectly honest, I don’t know what you see in him.”

Kakashi smirks at Anko’s words – it was a mystery to him too why anyone would want to date her, and, yet, it seemed she never had a shortage of admirers.

“I…I can’t explain it,” Iruka says, “It’s just - he makes me feel things in a way that no one else does. Seeing him smile under his mask and blush makes me so weak – I immediately want to take him out on a nice date and do anything to make him happy…”

Kakashi feels heat rise to his cheeks, and he can barely contain a smile.

“Ah, that’s so sweet,” Anko says teasingly, but Iruka just chuckles.

“But then,” he continues, “Sometimes he just riles me up with that awful attitude – and even worse penmanship when it comes to his reports – and all I want to do is to drag him out of the Mission Room, get on top of him, wrap my hands around his throat and ride him all night long.”

Kakashi’s head spins and, suddenly, it feels unbearably hot in the small closet. Iruka wants to…what? Heat spreads through Kakashi’s body, pooling in his lower stomach, making it hard to think clearly. His mind races, and the world around him suddenly shrinks to just one thought – Iruka, on top of him, doing exactly what he just promised. Kakashi would be lying if he said he’d never imagined himself with Iruka that way – but never before were the images so vivid, and never before did the fantasy feel so real.

“Eww, how filthy,” Anko laughs.

“You’ve told me worse things,” Iruka replies, “Besides, I have a feeling you’ve gotten me drunk precisely to hear something like that.”

“Ah, you wound me,” Anko chuckles, “But you might be on to something. How else could I get the prim and proper Academy sensei to talk about his dirty fantasies involving a certain jonin?”

“You are evil,” Iruka laughs.

“And you love me for it,” Anko replies easily.

Suddenly, Kakashi can hear the window slide open, and someone else enters the apartment. Quiet whispers follow, but he doesn’t try to make out any words – his mind is still preoccupied with conjuring up images of him and Iruka together. His blush deepens, familiar heat courses through his veins, and for a moment, Kakashi’s almost scared that the resounding beat of his heart may betray his hiding spot.

“Well,” Anko says after a moment, “Looks like it’s time for me to head out. Sorry to cut the evening short, but duty calls.”

“We could always continue tomorrow,” Iruka offers lightly, “It’s not like I can drink all this by myself.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Anko replies, and Kakashi can hear her climbing out the window.

With Anko gone, Kakashi realizes that Iruka will likely go to sleep soon. Then he can get out of here and try to find another way to figure out what to give Iruka for his birthday…

Distracted by his thoughts, Kakashi doesn’t even notice that he’s leaning against one of the shelves – until he sends a box standing there crashing to the floor with a loud thud. Before he can figure out what to do, the door to the closet flings open, and he sees Iruka standing in front of him, holding kunai in one hand.

“Kakashi-san,” he breathes out, stunned, “What are you doing here?”

Kakashi knows he needs to say something, anything, but all he can do is stare. Drunk Iruka looks so delightfully disheveled with his tousled hair, his flushed cheeks, and his swollen lips that all Kakashi can think of for the moment is how much he’d like to ravage him right then and there.

The silence stretches as Kakashi desperately scrambles to retain some semblance of rational thinking.

“I…uh…was just passing by,” he offers weakly.

As soon as the words leave his lips, Kakashi wants nothing more than for the ground beneath his feet to open and swallow him whole. That might be the most ridiculous thing he’s ever said. It seems that even in his drunk state, Iruka knows that because a moment later, he bursts out laughing.

“That is the stupidest excuse I’ve ever received,” he manages to utter through his laughter.

Kakashi doesn’t argue.

Once Iruka’s done laughing, his face grows suddenly serious.

“I have to ask – how much of that did you hear?”

“Everything,” Kakashi says, resigned.

His heart drops in his chest – he knows Iruka has every right to be angry with him for eavesdropping on his private conversation. Did he just ruin everything? Iruka will probably never want to see him again after this… When Kakashi finally manages to meet Iruka’s gaze, he’s surprised – there is no anger in his eyes, only amusement.

“Oh my,” Iruka murmurs softly, and then a smile blooms on his lips, “Well, I suppose this makes it easier. So, what do you think – would you like to…”

Before Iruka could finish his sentence – before he could even think, Kakashi’s fingers reach for the zipper of his flak jacket. Kakashi’s face is aflame, and he’s never been more embarrassed and turned on in his life. He knows he shouldn’t – but after aching for Iruka’s touch for so long, he can hardly deny himself.

The confused expression on Iruka’s face makes Kakashi’s hand still.

“Huh?” Iruka says, lifting an eyebrow, “Kakashi-san, who do you take me for? I’m taking you on a date first.”

This man will be the death of him.

#kakashi hakate #iruka umino #kkir #kakairu #kakairu month 2021

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thetoxicstrawberry · 7 years

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Thank you @falling-off-midgard for beta reading this for me! I can’t even express how grateful I am for all your thoughts and comments. I’ve made it my mission to drag you into this ship eventually.

@madakaka

Summary: An alternate universe in which Madara survives the war and spends his days flirting with irritating the Hokage.

The Price of Atonement

Ch. 1: Limbo

Ch. 2: The Losing End

He should have known better.

When Madara made his request to that dim-witted Hokage, he should have predicted something like this would happen. But he didn’t and he acknowledged it was only due to his own insistence that he ended up in such a mess, but he couldn’t back out. Doing so would give the other man the satisfaction of winning and there were few things Madara hated more than losing.

Hashirama used to tease that Madara wasn’t gifted with natural talent, only pettiness and a stubborn drive for competition, which was mistaken for genius. He disagreed, of course, believing instead that it was a combination of both that drove him to perfection.

He had been this way as far back as he could remember. First with his siblings, who provided him with amusement, but not much contest. Being the eldest by birthright gave him an edge against them, making him the winner in everything from fighting to tree climbing. It wasn’t until that day by the river that he would find his true rival.

Against Hashirama, he could finally test his skill. It wasn’t merely the trivial competitions, like rock skipping, that excited him either. It was his desire to impress Hashirama. To be acknowledged by him as an equal. More than an equal.

Growing up during the Warring States Era, there wasn’t much time for praise. Children only found honor in survival, so every bit of approval that Hashirama imparted was a treasure to Madara.

As they grew and the fighting intensified, his competitive nature merged with his desire to protect. Guilt over his inability to save his younger siblings deepened his pursuit of power in an effort to shelter Izuna from the same fate as their siblings.

And when he finally lost Izuna, it left a wound on his heart that never healed. He tried to focus that energy on building the village—the dream that Hashirama and he shared, and for a short time it worked. Until it didn’t anymore. His combative nature morphed into a sick madness which sought to cleanse this world in order to make it anew, with only Hashirama’s strength to challenge that goal.

But all of it was for nothing, he realized. Hashirama was truly gone now. His edo tensei faded into dust. His only competition now was the Rokudaime and, if his tallies were correct, Madara was currently losing. He frowned at that thought, not really certain how the power balance always seemed to skew in favor of the gray-haired nuisance.

The doors in front of him parted, breaking Madara from his thoughts. A figure hesitated in the entryway for a moment before walking over to greet him. Madara noted the thick scarring across the bridge of his nose and the annoying smile pointed in his direction. He scowled back at him, but wasn’t sure if it was received or muted by the shade of the tree he stood under.

“Uchiha Madara,” he said. “My name is Umino Iruka. I’m a teacher here at the academy.”

Madara didn’t even brush a glance at his outstretched hand, only defaulted back to his usual unwavering stare. He did, however, notice the slight tremble in the younger man’s voice.

“Okay then,” Iruka said, moving his hands into his pockets to hide his uncertainty. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long. I didn’t realize you were here. One of the kids saw you through the window. They’re really excited to meet you.”

“I’m thrilled,” Madara deadpanned.

“I can see that,” Iruka said, either not noticing his sarcasm or simply ignoring it. “You’ve even dressed up for the occasion.”

“This is my normal attire.”

“Well it’s very…authentic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Madara growled.

Iruka raised his hands in a show of mercy. “Nothing, nothing. Just that it lends to the period. That’s all. The kids will love it.”

Madara’s eyebrow twitched. Was this little squirrel calling him outdated?!

He hadn’t given much thought to his clothing since he’d been living back in Konoha. In truth, he’d never given much thought to it in general. Always preferring functional over flashy, Madara glanced down at his crimson body armor, and wondered for the first time since his resurrection, if maybe it could use some revision.

But what would he wear instead? Not that horrid green flak jacket, like the man in front of him was donning now. He sneered at it and hoped the obnoxious tree rodent took notice.

“Authentic,” Madara mumbled. “You must mean well-crafted.”

“Yes, very well-crafted. I can see that. The detail.” The quake in Iruka’s voice increased as he took hold of Madara’s shoulders and gave the metal plates there a slight shake, testing it out. “They don’t make things like they used to, ha ha!”

Iruka stopped when he caught sight of the puzzled disgust on Madara’s face and realized that breaking the touch barrier with him was akin to shoving one’s hands into a badger den. He quickly increased the space between them to a safer distance and cleared his throat.

“We better not keep them waiting any longer.”

Madara rolled his eyes and took a few steps towards the flustered teacher. “Let’s get this over with.”

Flinching slightly, Iruka turned to lead the agitated Uchiha into the academy, trying to forget the danger of having Madara at his back.

As they crossed the threshold, Madara could hear the muffled sounds of voices and shrill laughter tucked behind closed doors. He remembered sitting atop the Hokage mountain with Hashirama as they dreamed together of a day when children could spend their years in a classroom rather than dying on the battlefield. Something warmed inside of him, starting in his middle and worked its way into the back of his throat. At first, he thought it was another chakra attack coming on, but instead it was---satisfaction?

He groaned and Iruka stopped to look at him.

“If this is too much trouble, we can do it another day or I can ask Kakashi…”

“It isn’t that,” Madara snapped. “It was only a passing thought. It would only disappoint the little brats anyway.”

As they entered the classroom, all the chattering stopped as twenty or so tiny heads turned to look at them.

“Okay everyone, our special guest has arrived,” Iruka announced and Madara tensed. “I would like to introduce you to Uchiha Madara, one of the founders of our great village.” He then turned to Madara and said in a lower voice, “I’ll let you take it from here.”

Iruka nodded at him and moved to the back, as Madara turned to face the quiet intensity of the class. He swallowed and moved his eyes from one corner to the next to take in all the miniature faces focused solely on him. He couldn’t help but notice that the positioning of the desks gave the children the high ground, putting him at a disadvantage.

“Hi,” he said with a short wave, realized the awkwardness of it and rested the hand back at his hip, but that was too cocky, so it moved it to his side. He swallowed again.

“Your Hokage asked me to come speak to you today,” he said and paused, his mind frantically searching for what to say. Why hadn’t he thought to prepare for this ahead of time? “As the squir—Iruka-sensei said, I, along with Senju Hashirama and Tobirama created this village. You probably know them more as the First and Second Hokage.”

From the back, a tiny hand shot up.

“Yes?” Madara said, pointing a gloved finger at the petite pig-tailed girl.

“Were you ever Hokage?” she asked excitedly.

“No.”

“Oh,” she said, shoulders slumping. “Why not?”

“Politics,” Madara grumbled. “And a meddling younger brother.”

“Your brother didn’t want you to be Hokage?”

“Not my brother,” Madara said. “Hashirama’s.”

“The First Hokage?”

“The First’s brother, Tobirama. He didn’t want me to be Hokage,” Madara corrected.

“Why?” another child asked.

“How should I know? Tobirama was an uptight obnoxious little di…”

Iruka coughed to cut Madara off.

“Moving on,” Madara said. “As I was saying, before the consecration of the village, shinobi typically belonged to familial units and clans and these clans…”

Another hand shot up.

“Yes, you. What is your question?”

“If you’re, like, a hundred years old, why do you only look fifty?” the boy asked.

“Fifty? You think I look fifty?” Madara twitched and Iruka made a choking sound from behind him. He couldn’t tell if it was mirth or fear for the poor child that dared tell him he looked half a century old. “I will have you know, I was revived so my visage would be during my prime.”

The boy cocked his head, confused. “I don’t know what that means.”

“More like thirty to thirty-five,” Madara sighed.

“That’s still old.”

“That’s not old!” Iruka snapped and then mumbled, “I’m almost thirty.”

“Fair enough,” Madara said, crossing his arms. “Any more questions?”

Eight more hands shot up.

------------------------------------------

Kakashi swallowed a chuckle. From where he was perched, he had a perfect view of Madara. He hunkered down further when a small laugh slipped through his lips and he hoped it wasn’t heard through the open window.

He was surprised to admit this outcome hadn’t been one he’d expected. He’d figured ten minutes tops before the children would have riled Madara enough that he stormed out of the classroom and marched towards the Hokage office to accost him in one fiery ball of bushy haired rage.

Kakashi had predicted that Madara would arrive to the academy puffed up and annoyed, if he even showed up at all. He never thought Madara would address the children with mild-mannered patience, or even more shocking, uncertainty.

This side of Madara was new and Kakashi wondered if this was the Madara that Hashirama had placed so much faith in. Not the mentally unhinged man he had fought during the fourth Shinobi war, but the one who set his pride aside to ally with an enemy in order to protect the future.

“Has he murdered anyone yet?”

Kakashi flinched at the sound of Sasuke’s voice beside him. He had been so busy listening, he hadn’t heard his approach.

“Surprisingly, no.”

Sasuke shrugged and leaned into the building. “I suppose there is still time.”

“He’s good with them,” Kakashi said. “The children, I mean.”

“I thought he hated kids.”

“Me too,” agreed Kakashi. “Last week, I had to explain to him that I couldn’t execute children for disrespect. It makes me wonder how much of Madara’s behavior is simply posturing.”

The younger Uchiha grinned. “Without his chakra, everything he does is bravado.”

“Be careful, Sasuke, and never forget who he is. It’s still too soon to let your guard down.”

“Hmph,” he snorted. “I know that. Even without power, he’s still a crafty bastard.”

“Yes, he is.” Kakashi returned his gaze back to the classroom just in time to see a small smile play across Madara’s face.

------------------------------------------

The final bell rang and the kids poured out of the academy door. Madara followed not far behind them with Iruka close at his heels.

“It is true what you said about the Second?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Even the part where...”

“All of it is true,” Madara said and then groaned when he caught sight of the Hokage.

“We really need to do this again sometime.” Iruka was still talking, but Madara had tuned him out the second he laid eyes on Kakashi, hands in his pockets, standing in the same spot he had occupied earlier. “I’ll talk to the other teachers. I’m sure they’d love for you to come speak to their students too.”

“Did you enjoy the show?” Madara asked smoothly.

“I did,” Kakashi said, shutting his eyes in a quick smile. “I’m thinking about giving you your own class to teach.”

“I would sooner smother you in your sleep before I let that happen,” Madara sneered.

“Who says I sleep?”

“Kakashi-sama,” Iruka said. “Thank you again for setting this up. The kids enjoyed having a real life historical figure teach them about the past. Next time, maybe we could hold an assembly.”

“You can leave now,” Madara ordered.

Iruka paused for a moment and looked to Kakashi for guidance.

“Come by my office tomorrow. We can talk about it then.”

Iruka bowed and thanked them again, before he walked back into the school, the earlier bounce in his step gone.

As soon as he retreated, Madara turned and asked, “How long were you watching?”

“Long enough to see the great Madara blush in front of classroom full of kids. I never expected you to be so shy.”

Madara made a sound that was almost a laugh. “You thought you had bested me.”

“I’ll try harder next time.”

“I’m sure you’re already planning my next great adventure.”

The way Madara was looking at him, with half narrowed eyes, Kakashi thought he almost looked amused. There was a slight bit of mischief behind his gaze and Kakashi wondered if Madara simply enjoyed defiance.

“I have some ideas in mind. Naruto offered to help keep you occupied.”

“No, absolutely not,” Madara said. “I refuse to engage in any activity that requires the orange annoyance.”

“You shouldn’t have told me that, Dara-chan.”

This time he did laugh and shot Kakashi a full smile. “Oh, just remember, my dear Hokage, you really do have to fall asleep sometime.”

#kakashi #madara #naruto #madakaka #iruka #sasuke #the price of atonement #my writings #fanfiction #au #haha edited #I'm a moron

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