(no subject)
Saturday evening.
Kakashi stared into the depths of his beer, feeling depressed. The pub around him was loud, his fellow nins happily, drunkenly chattering, shouting, laughing, guffawing, whining. Clouds of nicotine stuffed the place, but the jounin didn't care.
He felt Asuma's glare on him, and the table fell silent.
"Oi, Hatake. Quit moping. What, someone break your black little heart?"
The men roared with laughter. One blue eye glanced up at the bearded jounin, who was grinning proudly at his joke.
"What, you say something?"
The table fell silent again, but there was something heavy about it this time. Asuma seemed to ruffle his feathers, frowning.
"What's wrong with you, Hatake?"
"A lot of things. What's wrong with you?"
"Me?" He frowned, and the cigarette stuck out of his mouth at an odd angle.
"Why do you got against Iruka?"
The other jounin frowned even more, and no one dared interrupt the tension that seemed to be building up.
"That is none of your business, Hatake.", he said coldly, then taking a swing of beer, decided to joke again: "Worried about your little love-love, Mr. Chocolate bandit?"
Kakashi visibly flinched, restraining himself from hitting the man while the rest of the table cackled. He slammed some money down instead, and left in a huff, hearing the cruel laughter all the way home in his ears.
~ ~ ~