Archive of Our Own

Iruka sighed as he stepped into his apartment, toeing off his sandals and dropping his pack next to them. It had been a long run home, through intermittent sleet and along iced roads. He was chilled, liberally splattered with mud, and exhausted. Bath first, then bed, he thought, maybe something to eat if the hot water wakes me up a bit. He stripped almost mechanically, dropping his flak jacket over a chair back before starting the water running. He sat to unwrap his thigh-holster and his shins - the bandages will definitely have to be washed before I can re-use them, he noted absently, standing to peel out of shirt and pants that were sweat-stained, tacky with blood and dirt, and thoroughly uncomfortable. The mud had managed to get under even his mesh top. Iruka picked up the moveable shower-head and let his hair down with his other hand, sighing in anticipation as he ducked his head under the hot spray.

And jumped back, yelping in surprise: the water was freezing! Iruka looked at the spray-head in his hand in dismay, as if looking at it hard enough would warm the water. Cold droplets trickled through his hair and into his face, over his shoulders, reminding him of the weather outside and making him shiver. What the hell? he thought, putting his hand in the spray again. The water was still ice-cold. He stared at it, tired mind ticking through possible explanations.

Shit, Iruka thought, don't tell me the water heater broke? He grabbed a towel, scrubbed roughly at his hair to stop it dripping, and pulled his pants back on to go check the water heater. Towel slung over one shoulder, he padded into the kitchen and knelt to check the pilot light.

It was out. Iruka stood, fumbled for matches, and knelt again to re-light it. If he only let it fill part-way, the water would heat fairly quickly, and maybe he could still have a hot bath, or at least a warm one. He struck a match, fumbled the dial to "pilot" with tired hands - and watched as nothing happened.

He shook the match out just before it burned his fingers, and tried again. Again, nothing happened. A half-dozen matches later, all Iruka had gained was burnt fingers and frustration: the water heater refused to light. He cursed under his breath, punching the floor as he stood. (Absently, he spared a moment of thanks for the fact that he'd never learned to channel chakra the way Tsunade and Sakura did - the last thing he needed was a hole in the floor.)

A half hour, one pounded-on-superintendent's door, an unproductive argument and several very discouraging discoveries later, Iruka was left standing in an apartment with neither heat nor hot water, and no hope of a fix until at least the next afternoon. He kicked at his door, arms crossed across his chest, and let himself sulk for a minute, feeling completely ridiculous, and rather like one of his younger, overtired students. Then he walked into the bathroom, and, staring at the (traitorous!) hot water tap, tried to convince himself that a bath in nearly-freezing water wouldn't be so bad. And then a night with no heat. And wet hair. And leaky windows. He turned abruptly, banged back into his living room, practically shaking with frustration, and formed the signs for a transportation jutsu before he could think the better of it.

Showing up at Kakashi's door like this broke pretty much all of their unspoken rules, but he was the only person Iruka was sure would be awake at this hour, having just returned from the same mission. Kurenai and Izumo had also returned with them, but Iruka was fairly sure they both had better things to do than babysit him, and definitely wouldn't thank him for the interruption. Kakashi might not thank him for it either, but he was at least likely to be at home and by himself.

Iruka stared at the door in front of him, raised one hand to knock and stopped, halfway tempted, now that he was here, to just go back home and shiver instead of bothering Kakashi. The door opened before he had made up his mind whether to knock or to leave.

"Iruka-sensei -" Kakashi actually sounded surprised. Iruka flushed, and shivered, feeling incredibly stupid and half-expecting to be brushed off.

"Kakashi-san" he started, "I'm sorry to bother you. But my heat is broken, and-" Kakashi reached out and pulled him in, his hand gentle around the new bruises popping up on Iruka's forearm.

"Let's not let all the heat out, now" he said mildly, closing the door behind Iruka.

Sometimes Iruka thought Kakashi wore his mask just to make it impossible to tell what he was thinking: now was definitely one of those times. He had no idea what was going through the other man's head. But Kakashi was right about the heat, Iruka conceded - it was much warmer inside than out. He stepped a little farther inside, letting Kakashi guide him in without protest. He’d had no idea he had been shivering this whole time.

* * *

Kakashi was surprised when wards pinged during his (very late) dinner, but it was a friendly tickle of chakra: someone from Konoha, then, and not a stranger. He waited a moment, but no one knocked, so he went to the door and opened it. Umino Iruka stood there, hand held up as if about to knock, still in partial uniform, and looking rather the worse for wear. Kakashi had expected Iruka to collapse as soon as he got home after reporting in: the man was a good shinobi, but going up against an S-class missing-nin was a strain for nearly anyone, and Kakashi had been surprised that Iruka had kept going during this mission for as long as he had. On stubbornness, it seemed, rather than soldier pills.

Iruka flushed to his hairline, and started to stumble through an explanation about his apartment's water and heat running on gas, and construction (or maybe some disruptive genin, it wasn't really clear), breaking gas lines and the water in his apartment being very, very cold. He was shivering, in shirt-sleeves, and his hair was damp. Kakashi took him by the arm and pulled him indoors, letting him ramble. Iruka's presence was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one: his presence familiar by now.

"Let's not let all the heat out, now" he said, smiling very slightly. And he guided Iruka toward the bathroom and handed him a towel and a pair of sweatpants. Iruka looked as if he were about to apologize again, so Kakashi placed two fingers against his lips.

"It's no trouble, sensei" he said, forestalling any protest Iruka might have made. The look of surprise on Iruka's face made him look much younger than Kakashi knew him to be: it was an unusually open expression, even for Iruka, who wore his temper and his heart on his sleeve by shinobi standards. He pushed Iruka toward the bath, and closed the door.

This wasn't by any means Iruka's first really unpleasant, drawn-out mission - usually there was a lot more vomiting and self-recrimination after that one - but it was almost certainly the first time he'd been sent on an A-rank mission since starting at the Academy full-time a few years back, and while Kakashi wouldn't ever call teaching easy, (it was bad enough with three genin - a whole classroom of even younger kids defied imagination) it was a different kind of hard. (Technically, Kakashi wasn't supposed to know Iruka's mission history, but the Hokage's files really weren't as secure as they ought to be. Tsunade called it snooping; Kakashi just called it convenient.)

He heard the water turn on in the bathroom, and pulled leftover miso soup out of the refrigerator, setting it to warm on the stove. This was an evening of firsts: the first time Iruka had shown up unasked, the first time Kakashi had offered to feed him anything but take-out, the first time Kakashi had wanted Iruka to stay for nothing more than comfort. Kakashi didn't have nightmares anymore - ANBU had more or less cured him of that, when he'd failed to go insane - but he didn't always sleep well after missions unless he was exhausted, and this mission simply hadn't merited the kind of chakra use that would guarantee him a few hours of unconsciousness. He had been putting off going to sleep, though he didn't have anything to read that was new enough to keep him awake until morning.

So: Iruka needed a hot bath, food, and sleep, all easily enough accomplished. He had better not plan on teaching class tomorrow: after twenty-eight straight hours awake and on alert, Kakashi wasn't planning on getting up early, and Iruka certainly shouldn't be.

Iruka emerged from the bathroom before the soup was ready, his own clothes folded neatly in one hand, looking much cleaner and more than a little confused. He made for the door, as if to leave; Kakashi simply took the folded clothes away from him, replacing them with a cup of tea.

"I don't mean to impose, Kakashi-san," Iruka said faintly, though he was staring at the steam rising from the cup which he held cupped in both palms. "Really, this is too much trouble, I can just go -" Kakashi ignored him, instead maneuvering Iruka towards the low table.

"Don't be ridiculous. You'll never get your ribs bandaged up on your own." They'd been lucky, this mission, and had no serious injuries, but they were all bruised and battered to some degree, and Iruka had picked up a long slash across his back and side which was just high enough to be awkward to treat alone. It had been bandaged quickly in the field, but the wrappings had come undone in hot water, and now that Iruka was shirtless, Kakashi could see that the cut had opened and started oozing serum slightly. Iruka didn't flinch as Kakashi re-wrapped the cut, holding the teacup in both hands and sipping slowly. Once he was done, Kakashi handed Iruka a shirt, and put a hand on Iruka's shoulder to keep him from getting up.

"Just a minute," he said quietly. Iruka stared after him, confusion and exhaustion warring for first place on his features. Kakashi took the teacup away, and handed him a bowl of soup.

"Drink up, Iruka-sensei. It'll be more help than the tea." He sat across the small table from Iruka, pouring a cup of tea for himself, and noticed with some amusement that Iruka was doing his best to look away from Kakashi's uncovered face. He caught Iruka's eye, and grinned openly when the man flushed again.

"Come now, sensei, it's nothing you haven't seen before," he said wryly, arching an eyebrow in a passable, if somewhat tired, leer. It changed into an outright grin when Iruka almost choked on his soup. He must really be exhausted: it wasn't usually anywhere near so easy to shock him. This wasn't exactly a situation they'd found themselves in before, but it felt comfortable to Kakashi, teasing Iruka across the table as if he belonged there.

Kakashi had half-expected Iruka to try to leave again as soon as he had eaten. It was considerate of him, since he had never stayed the night before, but tonight Kakashi found that he wanted Iruka to stay. So when Iruka finished eating and moved to stand, Kakashi flitted over to pull him up by both hands, and then slung an arm around his waist, palming the small of Iruka's back and pulling him close.

"Going so soon?" he whispered in Iruka's ear. "You'll hurt my feelings, sensei." Iruka stiffened in surprise, then, tentatively, let his head drop to Kakashi's shoulder.

"But - 'm tired" he muttered against Kakashi's neck.

"Come along. You'll sleep better somewhere warm," Kakashi told him, stepping toward the bed. Iruka followed with a grumbled protest (something about Kakashi being pushy, it sounded like) and crawled sleepily into bed after him. It took a few moments of shifting around to arrange themselves comfortably - it was a big enough bed, but Kakashi was accustomed to sleeping in the very middle of it, and Iruka had long arms - before Kakashi pulled the blankets up around their shoulders (and over his face) and pushed Iruka's arm off his chest. Iruka shuffled as if to curl up against him, so Kakashi rolled over and laid an arm across Iruka's back, holding him there when Iruka would have moved closer.

"I hope you don't snore," he said softly, and Iruka turned his head to look at him.

"You'll have to tell me," Iruka replied, and closed his eyes.