109AN: 'n amd.
Warnings: Beware the character exposition! Beware it, I say! … So, basically, I have no warnings for this chapter besides the usual. By now you should be very well familiar with how I write. For those who aren't, perhaps you should read the first twelve chapters before this one? ~.^ I suppose I should warn against a little bit of lime flavoring, but that's not really a warning is it? It's more of a heads-up (pun may be intended...)
Note: A decent number of reviewers made the comment that they've never heard of the drinking game portrayed in the last chapter. In the USA (which, oddly enough, is where I'm from...) it's called "Kings." It goes by many names, though. CB told me they call it "Circle of Death." There are a hundred different variations of this game and it is widely played in many different countries across the globe. If you're really interested in finding out more about this (it is quite a fun game and will get you totally sloshed) you can find it on wikipedia by searching for Kings Card Game. The "Cards on Cup" variation portrayed in Chapter 12 is not common (I don't think they even mention it on the Wikipedia article) and everyone has their own House Rules that go with each card. The wikipedia article offers quite a few suggestions for variations as well as the common rules so you can essentially build your own set of House Rules. Have fun!
Fun Fact: "Hibei" was originally intended to be Hiro's last name and "Itou" was supposed to be the name of Yasu's clan. I switched them at the last minute when I realized that "Hekai Itou" sounded stupid.
Also: As Meg aptly put it, I am such a cock-tease. *snerk* Sorry!
Oh, yeah: I forgot to mention it last chapter but we're well over 100,000 words! *fist-pump* For those keeping track at home, Gifts is now the equivalent of a 325 page paperback! Yosh!
One More Thing: My apologies for the later than expected update. I've been dealing with some really serious personal problems that have been sapping my will to be creative. Don't worry, though. I'm okay and I fully intend to finish this (and potentially write a sequel… . *gasp!*) I'm also sorry that this chapter is shorter than the more recent ones. I'm having difficulty getting through a very important section and I need more time to work on it, so it's getting pushed into the next chapter. Thanks!
Chapter Thirteen: In Which Genma Tells a Story and Kakashi is Considerate
The first time Kakashi woke up, it was still dark outside. He felt almost overly warm, uncomfortably thirsty, and, oddly enough, really heavy. His still-fuzzy brain took a few drawn-out moments to place why that was before the weight shifted, murmured, and splayed a tanned hand across the top of the older nin's chest. At some point during the night, Iruka had slung a leg over Kakashi's thighs, resting his head on the flat plane between peck and shoulder. A tiny jolt of contented happiness hit the Copy-Nin and, despite the fact that he really wanted a glass of water, he chose instead to wrap an arm around Iruka and bask in the feeling of being snuggled. He fell asleep before he had the opportunity to evaluate exactly why cuddly-Iruka made him feel so delighted.
The second time Kakashi woke up, the sun had just started to peek over the top of Konoha. Soft light filtered into the bedroom between the slats of Iruka's blinds, giving their surroundings a muted, dusky look that was decidedly peaceful.
Their positions had changed sometime during the last stretch of rest. Iruka had rolled off him to lie on his left side and, although he didn't recall waking up to do so, Kakashi had followed suit, spooning the younger man from behind. A strong, pale arm was draped almost protectively over Iruka's waist, the fingers of that hand intertwined with the chunin's. Iruka's head rested on Kakashi's bicep instead of on his pillow, which Kakashi had propped his arm on top of. The jonin winced slightly when he realized that his hand had gone numb from lack of circulation. As much as he really didn't want to move, he needed to displace Iruka's head so he could regain feeling in his fingers.
It took a laboriously long time but he managed to gently ease himself away from Iruka without waking him up. Sitting up in bed, Kakashi checked the digital clock on Iruka's side and noted it was just past six-thirty. He flexed his sore wrist as tingly pins danced along his long fingers and over his palm, and debated what he wanted to do. He was rather tempted to go back to bed but his bladder reminded him forcefully that there was at least one chore that needed taking care of before he could do so.
Kakashi immediately regretted his decision to stand up when a sharp throb drove itself through his skull. He lurched sideways for a step, placing a hand firmly against the wall to steady himself until the ache subsided to a manageable level. Slowly, feeling as if someone was twisting a kunai into his brain, the jonin pulled on his sweatpants and made his way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.
The sight of the showerhead beckoned him strongly and Kakashi decided that a hot shower was just what he needed to revive himself. After a cursory shampoo and scrubbing - he had taken to using Iruka's soap as he thought the scent of it was incredibly appealing - the jonin let his forehead rest against the cool tiles of the wall. The pulsating thrum in his temples ebbed a little but it was still a near-constant presence. Kakashi silently promised his aching head that he would never drink like that again.
Standing there in the hot spray, Kakashi lost track of time quickly. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular, letting his mind wander along whatever path it chose to take. It settled on the naked chunin in the bedroom but, knowing that Iruka would not allow himself to be seduced while the kid was out on the couch, Kakashi quickly pushed away any thoughts pertaining to making good use of Iruka's lack of clothing. Plus, the jonin wasn't even certain that Iruka would still be up for fulfilling the empty promise of the night before now that he was sober. Kakashi felt a slight pang of regret that he hadn't been able to cash in on it; Iruka had been deliciously aggressive in that alleyway. Just the memory of the teeth scraping along his skin was doing things to Kakashi's libido that he hadn't felt in a long time.
Subconsciously, his hand traced down his abdomen until fingers wrapped around his already thickening length. Breathing deeply, mind fixated on the flushed, lust-filled eyes he'd seen on the landing the night before, he slowly coaxed himself into fullness. He let his eyes slip shut, turning slightly to lean his back against the cold tiles of the shower wall. The water from the showerhead peppered his chest, running down his body in searing rivulets as he pumped himself gently.
Knowing he would probably pay for the chakra drain later, Kakashi activated the Sharingan behind his eyelid. The darkness flared to life as he sought out a recent memory to accompany the increasing pace his hand was taking. Almost instantly, the image of Iruka laid out before him on the couch came into focus. He could see clearly the way Iruka's chest heaved with each wanton moan, the flushed face contorted in pleasure, hands grasping at the cushions while Kakashi had slowly worked him up to orgasm. The memory of the younger man's throbbing cock against his tongue sent shivers up Kakashi's spine and he squeezed his hand more firmly over his member, biting back a groan that wanted to escape his lips.
Kakashi increased his pace as he relived that night, watching and re-watching the moment Iruka had hit his limit. Even without sound to the scene playing behind his eyelid, Kakashi could recall the exact way Iruka had screamed out as his hot, salty seed shot into the jonin's mouth. He felt his groin tighten further and was somewhat surprised at how quickly he was bringing himself to completion. Normally jerking off took him a bit longer than that. He shoved those thoughts away and refocused on the memories, biting down firmly on his lip to stifle the breathy moans threatening to break free of his throat. Pressure was building in his lower abdomen and his other hand moved down to join the first, cupping at his tightened sack, massaging and pressing in rhythm to the motion on his cock.
He was so close as the Sharingan whirled rapidly behind his eyelid, flashing images across his mind's eye of Iruka's flushed, lust-filled gaze, the lithe, tanned body arching in time with Kakashi's thrusts. The jonin matched the memory's pace with his hand, panting heavily. He hung his head and grit his teeth as his fingers started to move sporadically. He felt himself building to an almost unbearable pressure, his nerves tight as he started to reach the peak.
There was an insistent, almost panicky rapping on the bathroom door and Kakashi's good eye snapped open, the Sharingan deactivating instantly. "I'm sorry whoever's in there," a small voice called out, "but I really, really, really need to pee!"
"You have got to be shitting me!" Kakashi snarled under his breath as his engorged cock twitched within his stilled hands. With an angry growl, the Copy-Nin shut off the water and snagged his towel from the rack. Wrapping it around his waist, doing his best to hide the painful erection that was trying to strain against the terry fabric, Kakashi yanked the bathroom door open and glared down at the kid on the other side. Hekai was dancing from foot to foot, a tense look on his face. Resignedly, Kakashi moved out of the bathroom and waved the boy inside.
Despite the ache in his groin, Kakashi couldn't bring himself to finish what he'd started once he had reached the safety of the bedroom. Iruka was still passed out, his dark hair splayed attractively around his face like a chocolate halo. The jonin didn't have the heart to wake him up in an attempt to get the chunin to do something about the older man's stiffy - not that Iruka would with Hekai in the apartment, Kakashi noted with disappointment - and he felt a little weird jerking off with Iruka asleep a foot away.
Utterly put-off, Kakashi gathered together a clean uniform and, trying to will himself to soften, got dressed. He paused briefly after fastening his pants, wondering if the standard-issue clothing was his or Iruka's. Before they had all met up to play Mud Ball on Friday, Kakashi had taken it upon himself to do a good chunk of the laundry. He hadn't bothered to separate his new uniforms from Iruka's before bundling them all into a washing machine in the apartment complex's basement, and the result had been a pile of identical pants, shirts, and flak jackets. Giving up on trying to figure it out, Kakashi had just hung everything up in Iruka's closet and called it good. They wore the same size so he figured it didn't really matter if they couldn't identify whose was whose. In a way, it was rather convenient; Kakashi had less to sort knowing that he could wear Iruka's clothing, and vice versa, without anyone being the wiser. The only articles of clothing that Kakashi had that were distinct were the shirts with attached masks he sometimes chose to wear in place of the detached version. Well, that and his underwear, but he had noted with a little bit of amusement that Iruka bought the same brand he did. They just had different opinions on what color was considered an appropriate shade for a piece of clothing no one ever saw.
Leaving Iruka to sleep off what was probably going to be a monumental hang-over, Kakashi made his way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He didn't bother pulling up his mask, letting it pool around his neck. Hekai had seen his face the night before, as well as a few moments ago at the bathroom door. He really didn't have anything to hide from the kid, Hekai being far too young to recognize Kakashi's features. He also wasn't a local, so the mystery the Copy-Nin's face wasn't something Hekai would really care about. Kakashi did make a mental note to ask the boy to not describe any specifics to Naruto; if the lads were friends, Kakashi would never hear the end of it from Naruto about why Hekai got to see the jonin's face while Kakashi's own student didn't.
Standing by the sink, the jonin fumbled around in the cupboards for a couple minutes, pulling down just about every flavor of tea Iruka had before trying to remember what herbal combination did well to cure the headache that had started to throb once more behind his eyes. He leaned his hands against the edge of the counter, frowning in concentration. There was a movement from nearby and the Copy-Nin slowly slid his gaze to the side. Hekai was standing tentatively at the edge of the kitchen, peering at the tea-laden countertop.
"Headache or nausea?" the boy asked, surprising him with the question.
"Uh… head." Kakashi winced slightly as his voice sent uncomfortable vibrations through his skull.
"Make the green." The child pointed at a bag near Kakashi's left hand. "It'll taste horrible, but you can add some ginger if your stomach's also upset. Or mix in some poppy, although if you use too much, you might hallucinate." The hand pointed at another bag to Kakashi's right. "You could also try a mixture of honey, ginger, and lemon. It'll taste better but it won't work as well as the green."
Kakashi stared over his shoulder at the boy. Hekai folded his hands behind his back and gazed back unabashedly. Then, figuring he didn't have anything to lose by trying the kid's suggestion, Kakashi put a green tea bag into one of Iruka's mugs then set the kettle to boil on the stovetop. While that heated, he rummaged through the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of eggs and some fresh vegetables they had picked up the previous afternoon.
"Care for an omelet?" Kakashi hoisted the egg carton a bit for emphasis. Hekai looked a little taken aback but, after another brief staring match, he nodded.
While Kakashi puttered around the kitchen, he listened to the sounds of the boy working on refolding the couch-bed. The soft fwump of the cushions being shoved back into place was followed by the scraping of one of Iruka's dining chairs being drawn out from the table. When he turned around, omelet steaming on a plate, Hekai was settled at the table. He was picking at his cuticles, an obvious aura of discomfort floating around him. Kakashi chose to ignore it, setting the plate down in front of the boy along with a fork.
Turning back to the range, Kakashi snagged the kettle off the stove right as it started to whistle. He filled his mug before whipping up his own omelet. When he turned back toward the boy with the intent to sit down and eat, he noticed with mild irritation that Hekai hadn't touched the food yet.
"It's not poisoned," Kakashi noted blandly as he pulled up the other chair.
"It would be impolite to eat before you sat down," Hekai returned in a tone that suggested that his intentions should have been obvious. The moment Kakashi was settled, the lad picked up his fork and dug into the omelet as if he hadn't eaten in a long time. The jonin wondered if that was just how the boy tended to treat food or if he really hadn't had a good meal in a while.
Kakashi sighed slightly before taking a long sip of tea. He ate more slowly, sudden movements aggravating the pounding in his head. He wasn't really queasy but he thought perhaps an omelet was a little bit excessive after half of it settled into a thick lump in the pit of his stomach. Rice would probably been a smarter choice but he hadn't really been thinking that clearly when he'd assessed possible breakfast options earlier. When Hekai gazed at the empty plate in front of him with a look that clearly said he was contemplating licking the dish clean, Kakashi slid the other half of his eggs over toward the kid.
"Are you sure?" the boy asked, frowning.
"Unless you want to see the other half of that soon, I shouldn't finish it." Hekai needed no second bidding and the remainder of Kakashi's breakfast disappeared down the Hibei's throat in a matter of seconds. Kakashi stood and took the empty plates to the sink before making up a second mug of tea. He passed it to Hekai upon returning to the table, then sat back in his chair. He clutched his mug between his hands, regarding the boy through his single, visible eye. Kakashi could tell Hekai wanted to say something but the Copy-Nin's head hurt too much to do more than wait for the boy to spit it out.
"Thank you," Hekai said at length. "It was awfully nice of you and your boyfriend to let me stay here last night." He was staring resolutely at the contents of his mug and didn't see the odd look that flashed through Kakashi's eye at his words.
"We're not dating." Kakashi took another sip of his tea and watched the confusion dance across Hekai's features.
"Your… husband?" the boy hazarded uncomfortably.
Kakashi shook his head then winced as the motion brought a new pain ricocheting around his skull. "It's actually illegal in the Land of Fire for same-sex couples to wed." The jonin let the boy stew in his uncertainty for only a few more breaths before coming to his rescue. "We're just friends."
"Oh!" Hekai's face turned an embarrassed red. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to insult-"
Kakashi shrugged lightly. "No offence taken." He swirled the dregs of his tea around in his cup as a thick silence fell onto the pair.
"Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?" Hekai ventured after the quiet had started to grow uncomfortable.
About to wave off any offer of reimbursement, Kakashi paused. "Actually," he said slowly, "I wanted to speak with you about… something. I would appreciate taking up some of your time while you're still in the village."
Hekai nodded quickly. "I'll need to check in at the Itou's home and get a change of clothing, but then I'm sure I could escape for a while."
"Can you meet me on the Fourth Hokage's head around noon, then?" Kakashi watched as Hekai mentally calculated the amount of time he'd need, the boy's bottom lip held firmly between his teeth in thought.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do that." Hekai started to stand from his chair, pausing about halfway upright when Kakashi lifted a hand.
"If you run into Naruto, would you mind refraining from mentioning…" The Copy-nin made a vague gesture that encompassed his face.
There was a flicker of curiosity in the lad's eyes before Hekai nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'm going to change back into my uniform and go, then. Please thank Iruka-sensei for me when he wakes up." Hekai moved to enter the bathroom where his damp clothing still sat in one corner, forgotten overnight. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at Kakashi. "And make sure he drinks some of that tea. He looked absolutely hammered last night."
Kakashi laughed and then immediately cringed, the pain in his temples angrily reminding him why he had just downed a mug of green.
Kakashi didn't get a chance to force any tea into Iruka. The teacher had woken up about an hour after Hekai had left, taken a blurry look at the clock in the kitchen, then went flying around the apartment like someone had shoved a hornet down his pants. Apparently, he'd had mission room duty that morning and was incredibly late. Kakashi even failed to stuff any food into the chunin's mouth before the harried instructor had shoved his feet into sandals and zipped off over the rooftops, unfastened flak jacket flapping out behind him.
Standing in a suddenly empty apartment, Kakashi glanced around uncertainly. He had a few hours until he was supposed to meet Hekai. Although he knew that he could very well fill that time reading or doing the dishes from breakfast, or even finishing what he'd started that morning in the shower, another thought stuck itself in Kakashi's mind. When Iruka finished moving, his hangover was going to catch up to him and the idiot had left without rehydrating or refueling. With a sigh that only held a tiny bit of irritation, the Copy-Nin headed into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of rice from the cupboard with one hand while simultaneously setting the kettle back on the stove to boil with his other.
"Nice of you to join us."
Iruka glared at Kotetsu through a curtain of wind-blown hair as he lowered himself gingerly into his chair. The older chunin was sitting behind the mission desk at Iruka's left, feet propped up on the table. An aluminum can, the sides beaded with perspiration, was held against his forehead. Kotetsu's hitai-ate hung limply from his other hand, dangling down past the seat of his chair.
"Thought you had this morning off," Iruka growled instead of rising to the sarcastic comment aimed at his tardiness.
"There's some sort of nasty stomach bug going around." Izumo's voice was muffled as he had his head buried under his arms on top of the desk to Iruka's right. "Both Tseno and Nakamichi are out sick."
"Will all of you shut it?" Genma, sitting in Tseno's usual spot on Kotetsu's left, looked like he hadn't even bothered to comb his hair that morning. The brown locks hung in tangled strands, obscuring most of his features. What Iruka could see of the tokubetsu's face looked drawn out and incredibly pale.
"At least Sunday mornings are typically slow," Izumo continued mutedly, disregarding the grouchy senbon-specialist. "I don't think I could handle anything like a Monday right now." He peeked over the tops of his arms at the empty mission room as if to make his point.
Iruka could only grunt in agreement as Kotetsu rolled the soda can to one of his temples. The older chunin squinted painfully up at the ceiling. "Who's fucking idea was last night, anyway?"
"Yours," Iruka snapped before shoving Kotetsu's feet forcefully off the table. The resulting thud of Kotetu's tilted chair righting itself brought hisses to both the spiky-haired man and the grumpy jonin on his left.
"One more sudden noise from any of you and I will not be held accountable for your loss of nerve function." Genma slammed his senbon into the tabletop for emphasis before trying to tug it back out. "Fuckin' A," he mumbled when it did not come loose. He pulled another from one of his vest pouches and clamped it tightly between his teeth.
"We're all just as hung over as you are," Izumo snapped, lifting his head just enough to shoot a glower at the man on the far side of the desk. "And playing Hokage's Cup was your bright idea."
"How's Mr. 'I Don't Normally Drink' this morning?" Kotetsu interrupted before Genma could come up with a retort for Izumo. The dark-haired man lifted an eyebrow at Iruka, tilting his head slightly, smirking at the sour look Iruka returned.
"Disgustingly chipper," the instructor near-snarled.
Genma leaned around Kotetsu curiously. "Who-what?" he asked, obviously not caring about the incoherency of his question. It was pretty clear what he was trying to get at.
"Kakashi," Izumo supplied. "Poor guy lost his house in the Maki fire."
"Iruka's filling his Good-Guy quota for a year by letting Hatake shack up with him," Kotetsu added. Iruka aimed a punch for the older man's shoulder but it lacked oomph, smacking far more lightly than it would have if Iruka hadn't been dying of a splitting headache.
"He's not usually that bad," the youngest man grumbled. It was quite true, too. Kakashi was actually a fairly considerate house-guest. He'd noticed how Kakashi had done the laundry the other day, and made breakfast for Hekai before the boy had vanished that morning… and snuggled Iruka the night before. The Academy chunin barely kept a blush from creeping onto his face at the memory of waking up sometime during the night wrapped in Kakashi's embrace. He felt a pang of disappointment that, with Hekai no longer on the couch, Kakashi would probably be moving back out there that evening. A vague but not unwelcomed thought entered Iruka's mind, questioning whether or not agreeing to being friends with benefits would ensure that Kakashi continued to spoon him in the middle of the night. He found it difficult to still be angry at the jonin when he could remember the incredibly contented feeling of being held like something precious. He didn't have time to ponder that further, though, as something Kotetsu said brought Iruka out of his thoughts.
"So, Genma." Kotetsu twisted sideways in his chair, leaning an arm on the back of the furniture, his fist propping his head up. "About last night."
The tokubetsu eyed Kotetsu guardedly. "Yeah?"
"Mind telling us about, ah, taking one for the team?" Kotetsu's grin split his face playfully.
Genma groaned. He removed his senbon, letting his head fall onto the desktop, barely missing the other pointy needle still stuck in the wood. "Fuckin' A," he repeated into the hard surface. "Okay, fine, but only if you go get me one of those." The jonin jabbed a finger at the cold soda can Kotetsu was holding.
The laid-back chunin was out of his seat and through the door of the mission room in a heartbeat, nearly running over a couple shinobi attempting to enter. The early-rising ninja quietly turned in their reports, much to the appreciation of the hung-over desk workers. By the time Kotetsu returned, the room was empty of all but the other three employees. He passed the cold soda can to Genma, who pressed it immediately to his forehead with an exaggerated sigh.
Rolling the can around to his temple, Genma twirled his senbon around in his fingers before chomping on the end. "Way back when I was younger," he started, moving the can to his other temple, "I was sent on an escort mission."
Iruka leaned his elbow on the mission desk, propping his chin in his hand as he settled down to listen to the story. He had to admit, he was rather curious how it came to be that Genma had locked lips with a man in his past; Iruka had never gotten any sort of vibe from the tokubetsu that spoke of non-heterosexual tendencies. The instructor could easily write off Genma's kissing of Guy-sensei as alcohol induced considering how smashed everyone had been by that point.
"I wanna say it was around eight or nine years ago. I was probably… oh, eighteen maybe?" Genma scratched his chin thoughtfully, maneuvering the senbon to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. "I was put on a team with a couple chunin and Guy, the prat. I was already tokubetsu but he was just freshly made a jonin and was given command of our unit for the mission. He was hardly more than a kid himself."
The tokubetsu shifted in his chair, moving to prop his feet up on the desk similar to Kotetsu's previous posture. Iruka frowned at it – he hated it when people put their shoes on the table – but he was too interested in the tale to bother correcting Genma's manners. He certainly didn't want the jonin to take it as a reason to not tell the story.
"I'm sure you're all familiar with Lord Hoshu Saito?" Genma paused while he waited for confirmation from his workmates. They nodded and he continued with a sigh. "Well, we were tasked with escorting his lovely bride from her father's lands to his. Considering the extensive wealth of both families, her carriage would have been an extremely tempting target for bandits. Lord Saito was willing to pay a disgustingly excessive amount of money to hire a jonin-led squad for the job." The senbon moved around Genma's mouth once more, rolling from one side to the other while the jonin dredged up the memories. He cringed slightly before popping his soda open. He took a long swig before speaking again. "Although Guy was all about personally carrying her the entire distance if needed – you know how he is-" The others nodded knowingly "- we decided as a cell that the best course of action would be to create a double of Lady Kyoko and disguise her as a servant woman for the duration of the trip. If bandits tried to kidnap the Lady, they'd be in for a nice surprise."
The jonin sighed almost dramatically then took another drink around his senbon. His eyes flicked toward the door where a few chunin were entering with reports. Iruka thought for a moment that Genma wasn't going to continue the story while the room was occupied but the jonin didn't seem to care if more than his friends overheard the tale as he started talking again. Iruka, always a master of multitasking, processed the reports while still actively listening to Genma.
"Of the four of us, I had the best henge ability so it was decided that I would play Lady Kyoko. I don't know if you guys have ever been a woman for two weeks, but I would not suggest it." The older man curled his lips slightly, grimacing around the acupuncture needle. The comment brought curious stares from the two newly arrived chunin who, regardless of the new mission in their hands, set themselves up on one of the couches lining the wall. Genma didn't seem to mind their presence though.
"So off we went. It's dead-boring riding in a carriage with nothing to do but stare out a window and pretend to be a woman. I wasn't allowed to do anything that would have given me away. It was the longest fucking two weeks of my life. Anyway-" He paused briefly as he took his feet off the desk and reached across it to take a report from a battered-looking jonin. He glanced over the scroll, stamped it, and tossed a new one at the man. A couple more shinobi started to wander in and, as they realized the specialized bodyguard was telling a mission story, many of them stuck around after turning in their reports, perching on the couches and chairs scattered throughout the room.
"Anyway," Genma started again after glancing at the room. He shrugged, unconcerned with the increase in his audience. "Lord Saito is a rather impatient man as it turns out. He couldn't wait for us to escort Lady Kyoko the entire distance before setting his eyes on his bride. The ass rode out to meet us halfway, as if our group wasn't a big enough target for bandits without Saito himself among our numbers, right?"
Kotetsu muttered something rather rude about nobles that Iruka had to silently agree with. Around the room, a few of the shinobi were nodding their understanding of the situation.
"I take it you didn't tell him that you weren't Kyoko?" Izumo asked when Genma stopped to process another report. Genma tapped the side of his nose and jerked his head in confirmation.
"If we told him that his blushing bride was actually the serving girl, he would have been lavishing all his energies on her and given away the ruse to any ambushing bandits." Genma dug through his stack of mission scrolls before handing one to the woman across the table. She was smirking and, after receiving her new mission, moved to lean against the wall nearby to listen.
"I think I can see where this is going," Kotetsu spoke up gleefully.
"Then I don't have to finish this." Genma began to sit back in his chair and grinned at the sounds of protest coming from the loitering shinobi. "Okay, fine. So, for all Lord Saito knew, I was his Lady Kyoko. I don't think I've ever been so terrified of sleeping before in my life; that man does not have personal boundaries. Naturally, my teammates were utterly supportive, vanishing whenever that idiot came around to speak with me." Appreciative chuckles rippled through the room.
"We were about three days from his lands when he tried to get into my pants or, well, my dress since I was dolled up." Genma shuddered at the memory and rubbed his forehead with a hand. "I couldn't very well blow my cover, now could I? I managed to keep him from reaching up my skirt but he managed to get a good, solid kiss in before I escaped."
"And how was that?" Kotetsu egged him on, a ridiculously entertained smile on his face.
"Horrible. He was all tongue and no technique." Genma pulled a face while the mission room erupted in laughter. He made a rude gesture to the gathered shinobi but his expression was good-humored. "I felt sorry for the real Kyoko."
"Did he ever find out you weren't her?" Iruka couldn't help but ask during the brief lull in the story. He rubbed absently at his own temples, his headache still very much present. Genma's story was a good distraction from his hangover but Iruka still felt fairly sick.
The tokubetsu's smirk was answer enough but, much to everyone's pleasure, he elaborated. "We ended up getting attacked by bandits the next day. Naturally, I de-henged to help take care of the problem. I wasn't sure whether I should have been happy to be rid of the disguise or offended when Lord Saito promptly threw up when he realized what he'd done."
"I hope that didn't affect your pay," Kotetsu commented between giggles.
"Oh, he tried to get out of paying at all, arguing that I deceived him and put his reputation in question." Genma's expression turned momentarily dark as he stared at the table top. "Part of the reason why I hate derogatory terms," he admitted. "You don't know how much it hurts until you get called a faggot. He tried to get me demoted and slandered my name within his social circle, threatened to never hire a Leaf Nin again because we..." He paused to lift his fingers to quote-mark the air, "'allowed a fucking homo to take advantage of a highly important financial backer.' Never mind that I'm not gay, or that he was the one that put me in that situation, or that I saved his ass during that attack."
The room had quieted, a few of the present ninja shifting uncomfortably before Genma gave a little shrug. "Lord Sarutobi straightened everything out, though, and managed to convince those lords that, since I had been one of the Yondaime's personal bodyguards, I had known what I was doing and that it had nothing to do with my apparently questionable sexuality." The tokubetsu leaned back in his chair again, feet landing on the desk with a thud that made the hung-over ninja all wince. "That was about the time he promoted me to his own personal guard, actually, so it worked out in the end."
"Damn. Well, we still like you even though you were molested by a dickhead." Kotetsu clapped a hand against Genma's shoulder. The resulting jostle brought a glare to the tokubetsu's face and a smack to the hand but Iruka thought he saw a flicker of appreciation in the older man's brown eyes at the gesture from the spiky-headed chunin.
With the story obviously finished, many of the lingering ninja started to file out to make room for incoming comrades. Sunday was typically a slower day for mission desk work, but there seemed to be a decent number of ninja coming and going. The four hung-over companions settled themselves into the routine of passing out new scrolls and processing the incoming reports. Iruka was thankful for the repetitious task and the general quiet that permeated the room. His stomach was decidedly unsettled and his head pounded each time he stamped a report as completed. He knew he shouldn't have left the house without eating something but he had been in such a hurry that his hang-over hadn't gotten the chance to catch up with him until he'd reached the desks. Hindsight really was 20-20.
A swirl of dizziness hit the young chunin and he stared at a swirl in the woodgrain for a long moment in an attempt to steady himself. The sensation was somewhat akin to when Kakashi had teleported him and Iruka made a promise to not drink like that ever again. His sonar wasn't working properly and it only added to the overall feeling of disorientation that was creeping up on him.
"Thank you for your hard work," Iruka murmured as he took an offered mission report without looking up at the ninja passing it his way. He figured if he kept his head down and didn't look around, he would eventually regain his clear head.
"You're welcome," a familiar voice replied. Despite his previous plans to glue his eyes to the knot in the wood, Iruka's head jerked up to stare at the man standing across the table. He could see Izumo stiffen slightly in his chair next to him as the older nin realized, too, who was standing there. "You're not looking well today," Hiro continued in a perfectly conversational tone. "Perhaps you're catching that flu. You should go home, Iruka-sensei, and get some rest."
Iruka barely managed to keep a glare from his face as he opened the mission scroll Hiro had handed him, glancing over the report to make sure it was complete. He stamped it a tad bit harder than he'd intended before sticking it on a pile near his elbow for filing. Without a word, he shuffled through a few higher leveled scrolls, picking out something appropriate for the jonin standing across the table.
"It's nothing," Iruka muttered, passing the mission across the table. His brows twitched together a fraction at the brush of Hiro's fingers against his own when the other nin took the offered mission. Iruka knew very well that Hiro could have taken it without touching him; he had done that on purpose.
Hiro's sky-colored eyes regarded Iruka carefully from behind his lashes. "No, you're nauseous and your head hurts. If I'm not mistaken, you're also dehydrated."
"Thank you, but I don't need a medic nin to tell me how I feel." The forced politeness in Iruka's voice caused both Izumo and Kotetsu to turn their heads toward him nervously. Iruka could see the taller chunin exchange a glance with Kotetsu behind Iruka's back but the younger man ignored it. "Please do your best to complete your mission. May I have the next report, please?" Iruka made a point of looking beyond Hiro to see if there was anyone else in line. His lips twitched down when he noticed that there weren't any other ninja waiting.
Hiro's mouth opened to speak again but whatever he was about to say, Iruka never heard it. There was the sudden popping sound of someone teleporting into the room. A swirl of smoke and leaves whisked around the space, momentarily obscuring Iruka's vision. When it settled, the shinobi at the mission desk stared in open curiosity at the pale-haired, lanky jonin that was sitting cross-legged on Iruka's pile of stamped reports.
"Yo," Kakashi greeted, one hand upheld in his standard hello.
"Kakashi-sensei?" Iruka glowered at the masked man, noting that the single visible eye was curved in a happy smile. How dare he look so not hung-over when Iruka and his three workmates were all in various stages of recovery? "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't taking any missions until after the chunin exams."
"You left in such a hurry this morning, you forgot your breakfast." Kakashi reached into the haversack slung across his hip, digging through the contents. He pulled out a couple of wrapped bundles and set them out on the desk, following them with a thermos. "Green tea for the headache and some onigiri for your stomach. Really, Iruka-sensei, you should take better care of yourself."
The corner of Iruka's eye twitched slightly at the comment but, inwardly, he felt a swirl of pleasure. Kakashi was being incredibly considerate. With a sigh, the instructor reached forward to take one of the bundles. He didn't feel much like eating, but he did know that putting something bland into his stomach would go a long way to help the hang-over subside.
"Thank you," Iruka murmured as he unwrapped the hand-formed rice triangle. He took a tentative bite, chewing slowly before forcing himself to swallow. It was incredibly tasty but his stomach started to protest. Blanching, Iruka set the rice down and tried the tea instead with better results. After a minute of making himself eat the rest of the onigiri ball, Iruka glanced at the jonin still sitting on the desk between him and Kotetsu. "Can I help you with anything?"
"Just making sure you eat," Kakashi stated simply with a shrug. He seemed satisfied that Iruka had managed to down one of the lumps of rice. With yawn, Kakashi stretched his arms above his head; a series of impressive cracks and pops sounded as the older man's spine aligned. "I have some errands to run today so I'll just be going." The jonin rolled back off the desk, gaining his feet in a fluid motion that left Iruka slightly jealous of Kakashi's flexibility.
As the Copy-Nin turned to go, he paused long enough to gaze down at Hiro. Iruka felt himself tense slightly but Kakashi merely murmured a vague greeting before brushing past the shorter jonin. The pale nin paused at the doorway, though, and glanced back over his shoulder at Iruka. "We forgot to buy cabbage yesterday. Can you pick some up on the way home so I can make dinner?"
"Uh, sure." Iruka nodded once and Kakashi, smiling, left the mission room. There was a long pause as the shinobi in the room glanced curiously between the open door and Iruka. The chunin did his best to keep a blush from spreading over his face at the sudden scrutiny he was getting. He chanced a look up at Hiro but the man's face was schooled into a perfectly neutral expression. The jonin turned after a heartbeat and left the room without a word.
Just when the silence was starting to feel much too thin, there was slurping sound from Genma as the tokubetsu finished his soda. "Damn," the man said with a smirk, "remind me to offer my couch to him the next time his place burns down. I don't suppose you'd be willing to share those, eh?" Genma jabbed his senbon at one of the numerous bundles of rice sitting in front of Iruka. The instructor responded by tossing the older man one, then passing a couple to Kotetsu and Izumo as well. The potentially awkward atmosphere evaporated as the last few shinobi left the room and the desk nin munched away at the delicious onigiri, Iruka feeling incredibly grateful to Genma for dissolving what could have turned into an uncomfortable situation.
AN: Again, sorry for the shorter chapter. I'm hoping to be back to myself soon. Thanks!