(no subject)
Monday morning.
Kakashi retched into his toilet once more, gripping at the sides as the acid from his stomach was hurled up, hopefully one of the last attempts of his body to… to… shoot, he didn’t even know if it was a virus or if he ate something wrong. He finally stopped, and panted against the porcelain throne, weak and shaky.
Iruka thought he was gay.
Was-
The bell rang, and the jounin scrambled to his feet with bit difficultly, for which he cursed himself silently, and looking through the peephole, managed to croak a ‘who is it?’ with his rather sore throat.
“It’s… me. I came to… gods, Kakashi, open the door! I can’t talk to you like this!”
The copy nin felt his face warm at the sight of an embarrassed, cheek/scar scratching academy sensei, who was trying to look anywhere but at the door. He saw the man stomp a bit - he was uncomfortable, and wished to be not here…
The Hatake was tempted not to open the entrance, but a frustrated growl from the chuunin won him over.
“… Yo.” He tried to say, but his gullet felt like it had been burned off. The other looked at him with wide brown eyes.
“You sick?”
He nodded.
“What’s wrong?”
Kakashi scratched the back of his neck and shifted his weight onto his left leg, looking at his grey ceiling with boredom.
“Puking.”, was all he said, a bit scratchy and hoped he did not have to perform said action again anytime soon. It would be most embarrassing if the chuunin would get stuck playing nurse for him - he could never look into his eyes! In fact, he couldn’t right now either…
What if Iruka, having found Koibumi-
“Oh.”
… And there they stood in the most uncomfortable of silences, for...
One minute, after which the jounin’s neighbor came home, packed with shopping bags, somehow waving to them, at which they both had to wave back with small, polite smiles on their faces. The nin disappeared into his own apartment, along with his shopping bags, and...
Two. Two minutes.
Three.
Four.
… Iruka shifted, and scratched his throat. Neither of them said anything.
Five.
The clock in his apartment ticked.
Six.
Seven.
Kakashi didn’t know what to do, so he scrunched his toes on his floor. They snapped loudly.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
It was almost unbearable now, neither of them doing anything, just waiting, and the copy nin was beginning to develop an urge to slam the door in the man’s face, when the other finally did something - he put his hand on the doorframe, a sure message of ‘can’t throw me out until I let you’, and visibly forced himself to look Kakashi in the eye.
The jounin felt hurt. What if Iruka really wasn’t… attracted to other men, and having found Koibumi… gods, why did he even take that damned thing from his itoko, he was so stupid, what if-
“I’m sorry.”
“… eh?”
“…” A vein began to visibly throb in the other’s tan forehead. Kakashi sweat dropped.
“… I mean, excuse me?”
“I said I was sorry for being so… rude the other day.”
“Oh. You… you weren’t…” He gasped, his voice seeming to grow more high-pitched with each sound. His throat hurt unbelievably - but he swallowed, and pushed on nevertheless. “I was the one who… who…”
He began stammering, face growing red from not being able to say anything that seemed comprehensible, and from the fact that…
“Well, get better soon, Kakashi.” Iruka smiled as he pulled back, stepping into the hallway. Kakashi felt a twinge of disappointment… but he quickly buried that.
“Umm, ah… thanks?” He muttered, hand scrubbing his throat.
“I’ll come by later, alright?”
“A-Alright… see you?”
“See you.”
~ ~ ~