[FIC] Messages
Title: Messages
Summary: Yes, everything seemed to be in place, the keyword being ‘seemed’.
Warnings: Fluffffffff
Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, well, fics like this would happen in it.
A/N: Kiesus, it’s been a while since I posted any fanfiction, even though there’s at least three different fics that need little tinkering and are ready to be posted. Lazy, Senna. Although I can also blame my latest new fandom that has more than meets the eye... Okay, now that was crappy. Just go and enjoy this vintage fic I wrote 2008 and had the time to write clean few weeks ago.
I love you.
Iruka froze for a heartbeat before spinning around, ready to glare whoever was behind him. But the room was, just like it had been seconds ago, empty. Narrowing his eyes, Iruka twisted his wrist and a kunai fell smoothly on his hand from the folds of thick sleeve. Even if it might have looked like Iruka was alone, this was a ninja village; even Naruto could merge with the surroundings if he really wanted to.
But the Kyuubi vessel wouldn’t write ‘I love you’ on the back of his neck - the boy could simply not reach that high yet.
And it was no imagination, since Iruka had clearly felt the touch, a finger pressing against his skin, drawing the words with the short, sharp ciphers that all field working ninjas were required to master.
Slowly Iruka walked on the other side of the desk and stopped to stand between the couches someone had dragged in the Mission Room long time ago - from the battered looks of them, Iruka would guess that had been new in the very beginning of Sandaime’s era. The clock ticked quietly on the wall and he could hear the faint curses of Tsunade somewhere above him, which meant the Hokage had been wrangled to do some paperwork.
Yes, everything seemed to be in place, the keyword being ‘seemed’.
In all of Konoha there were exactly four places Iruka knew like the back of his hand, and this room was one of them.
Closing his eyes, since there was nothing visually wrong, Iruka relied on his other senses. Breathing slowly, Iruka focused and within moments there were all sorts of sounds around him, each of them distinctly recognizable: the loud slam! of a drawer being closed as Tsunade dug out her sake, Izumo muttering on the hall while dragging something heavy and weakly scuffling - most likely Kotetsu - and…
Without a hesitation or opening his eyes, the chuunin spun the sharp blade of the kunai upwards and swung his arm back. The man behind him stilled instinctively, the deadly edge of the weapon resting right against his throat.
“How many times I’ve told you not to do that?” Iruka asked calmly, glaring over his shoulder at the mildly bewildered jounin, who immediately became quite sheepish.
“Maa, couple of times but who counts?” Kakashi mumbled as he carefully raised his hand away, long fingers curling gently around the tan wrist to push the sharp blade away.
Iruka shook his head and turned completely around to face him. The blade was holstered and the now free hand reached for the black mask. The silver-haired man obediently allowed the fabric to be pulled down before tilting his head down wards to kiss Iruka.
“Welcome back,” Iruka murmured, his lips brushing against Kakashi’s as he spoke, enjoying the touch, “missed you.”
“Me too,” Kakashi smiled and captured Iruka’s mouth into another kiss, drinking in the presence of the smaller man after being without for five, agonizing days.
Arms wounded to hold each other, fingers moving across the little pieces of bare skin.
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
‘Your place or mine?’
‘Mine. I’ve got a surprise for you. Silk.’
‘Sensei...‘
** ** **
- Senna-chan
Summary: Yes, everything seemed to be in place, the keyword being ‘seemed’.
Warnings: Fluffffffff
Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, well, fics like this would happen in it.
A/N: Kiesus, it’s been a while since I posted any fanfiction, even though there’s at least three different fics that need little tinkering and are ready to be posted. Lazy, Senna. Although I can also blame my latest new fandom that has more than meets the eye... Okay, now that was crappy. Just go and enjoy this vintage fic I wrote 2008 and had the time to write clean few weeks ago.
I love you.
Iruka froze for a heartbeat before spinning around, ready to glare whoever was behind him. But the room was, just like it had been seconds ago, empty. Narrowing his eyes, Iruka twisted his wrist and a kunai fell smoothly on his hand from the folds of thick sleeve. Even if it might have looked like Iruka was alone, this was a ninja village; even Naruto could merge with the surroundings if he really wanted to.
But the Kyuubi vessel wouldn’t write ‘I love you’ on the back of his neck - the boy could simply not reach that high yet.
And it was no imagination, since Iruka had clearly felt the touch, a finger pressing against his skin, drawing the words with the short, sharp ciphers that all field working ninjas were required to master.
Slowly Iruka walked on the other side of the desk and stopped to stand between the couches someone had dragged in the Mission Room long time ago - from the battered looks of them, Iruka would guess that had been new in the very beginning of Sandaime’s era. The clock ticked quietly on the wall and he could hear the faint curses of Tsunade somewhere above him, which meant the Hokage had been wrangled to do some paperwork.
Yes, everything seemed to be in place, the keyword being ‘seemed’.
In all of Konoha there were exactly four places Iruka knew like the back of his hand, and this room was one of them.
Closing his eyes, since there was nothing visually wrong, Iruka relied on his other senses. Breathing slowly, Iruka focused and within moments there were all sorts of sounds around him, each of them distinctly recognizable: the loud slam! of a drawer being closed as Tsunade dug out her sake, Izumo muttering on the hall while dragging something heavy and weakly scuffling - most likely Kotetsu - and…
Without a hesitation or opening his eyes, the chuunin spun the sharp blade of the kunai upwards and swung his arm back. The man behind him stilled instinctively, the deadly edge of the weapon resting right against his throat.
“How many times I’ve told you not to do that?” Iruka asked calmly, glaring over his shoulder at the mildly bewildered jounin, who immediately became quite sheepish.
“Maa, couple of times but who counts?” Kakashi mumbled as he carefully raised his hand away, long fingers curling gently around the tan wrist to push the sharp blade away.
Iruka shook his head and turned completely around to face him. The blade was holstered and the now free hand reached for the black mask. The silver-haired man obediently allowed the fabric to be pulled down before tilting his head down wards to kiss Iruka.
“Welcome back,” Iruka murmured, his lips brushing against Kakashi’s as he spoke, enjoying the touch, “missed you.”
“Me too,” Kakashi smiled and captured Iruka’s mouth into another kiss, drinking in the presence of the smaller man after being without for five, agonizing days.
Arms wounded to hold each other, fingers moving across the little pieces of bare skin.
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
‘Your place or mine?’
‘Mine. I’ve got a surprise for you. Silk.’
‘Sensei...‘
** ** **
- Senna-chan