Archive of Our Own

Iruka wandered into the kitchen, drying his hair with a towel and wondering what to do for dinner.

At least, that was his plan. He made it as far as opening the bathroom door: then he was pinned on the floor, a knee in his back and a knife at his throat. Only the fact that he’d somehow recognized the blur as Kakashi had kept him from fighting back: if he had, Iruka was pretty sure, the knife wouldn’t be at his throat, but in it.

“Iruka,” Kakashi grated: he almost sounded surprised. His grip didn’t loosen. “What are you doing here?” Iruka felt the blade move a fraction, so that he could talk without risk of nicking himself. Not being able to feel it didn’t make him feel much safer: Iruka knew just how sharp Kakashi kept his knives.

“You gave me a key so I could water your plants,” Iruka said, mind ticking furiously through possible scenarios: Kakashi wasn’t expected back for several days yet. This had been an A or S class mission: for those, Iruka knew, such an early return could be a very good, or a very, very bad sign. Kakashi breathed harshly above him, and Iruka focused on not moving at all.

“Kakashi,” Iruka added, carefully, after a moment passed and neither of them moved, “you’re about to dislocate my arms.”

Kakashi’s knee was also digging into Iruka’s spine uncomfortably, just below his scar, and he was dripping something that smelled like the bottom of a swamp on Iruka. But Iruka didn’t really want to complain too much: he had no idea what had set Kakashi off, and he wasn’t going to push his luck.

Iruka had half-expected that something like this would happen at some point: he knew Kakashi was tighter-strung than he was, and for good reason. Pre-genin weren’t exactly easy, but they were none of them intentionally trying to kill him, something you definitely couldn’t say of the people Kakashi ran up against on a regular basis. Anyone who went on S-class missions and came home was a little over-cautious; anyone who went on as many as Kakashi had ended up a little bit broken. And while he’d probably never go out on an S-rank, Iruka had seen some truly alarming mission reports while helping Tsunade learn her way around the Sandaime’s files.

Iruka knew perfectly well that shinobi snapped all the time, and that Kakashi was probably well overdue. Still, the reality of it was a lot more alarming (no, he told himself, be honest: it’s downright frightening) than he had anticipated. It didn’t feel like Kakashi pinning him to the floor: it felt like a stranger who might well kill him.

Kakashi took the knife away from Iruka’s throat. Iruka felt Kakashi’s breath at the back of his neck: he didn’t move. Kakashi let go of him and stood up, moving away in one blink-quick movement. Iruka took a slow breath, and then pushed himself up. Moving very deliberately, he rose to his knees first, then to his feet.

“Sorry,” Kakashi said tightly from behind Iruka: it sounded like he was on the far side of the room. “But it might be better if you sit back down.”

If he’s this twitchy when I’m in obviously unarmed, Iruka thought, if I were in full kit …

“Ooookay,” Iruka said, sitting down on the floor, “really not a threat right now, Kakashi.” But he stayed where he was, waiting for some kind of response.

When none came, he looked over, cautiously. Kakashi was standing by the front door, staring at him with wide, intent eyes, Sharingan spinning. His flak jacket was stained and ripped, and Iruka could see that while a lot of it was mud or dirt, far too much of it was blood, though Iruka didn’t see any visible wounds. Kakashi looked like he was hair-trigger tense. He also looked like he was about to keel over, and the Sharingan obviously wasn’t helping.

“You idiot!” Iruka snapped, surprised into speaking without thinking, “Shut your eye before you fall over!”

That, oddly enough, seemed to help. Kakashi’s posture didn’t relax, exactly - but it softened just a bit, and he let his hands drop to his sides. After a moment, he reached up and pulled the hitae-ate back down. He didn’t say anything for a time, and Iruka sat unmoving, watching the strain gradually seep out of Kakashi’s posture, the killing edge retreat into his chakra - still there, as ever, but hidden. Finally Iruka judged it safe to speak.

“It’s just me,” he said quietly. “Kakashi, it’s just me.”

Finally Kakashi moved. He pulled off his vest with almost-shaking hands, and walked over to slowly lift Iruka to his feet, pulling him close with strong arms and burying his face in Iruka’s neck. Iruka startled, then returned the embrace.

“I--,” Kakashi started, speaking into Iruka’s neck, “I— “

“It’s all right,” Iruka pulled Kakashi a little tighter despite all the mud. “It’s just fine.” He knew Kakashi would hear the underlying words: I’m all right. I’m just fine. Iruka could have said “I know you’d never hurt me” — but that would be a lie, and an insultingly poor one, at that. He settled for “It happens, Kakashi.”

They stood like that for some minutes, until Kakashi’s hands had stopped their faint, almost imperceptible trembling against Iruka’s back.

“This doesn’t happen every time you come back from a mission,” Iruka said, the almost-question easier to ask into Kakashi’s hair than it would have been face-to-face.

“It’s worse after solo missions,” Kakashi replied, head still bent against Iruka’s shoulder. “And, no, not usually.”

“All right,” Iruka took Kakashi’s hands in his own and pulled back a bit to look Kakashi in the eye.

“So, next time I’ll just water the plants quickly and go back to mine instead of hanging around. Then you can come here to wind down if you need to, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll figure it out then.”

Kakashi looked startled, then nodded almost tentatively.

“Okay,” Iruka said, leaning in and kissing him lightly, “But first: you really need a shower. And,” he said, looking down at himself, “apparently I need a change of clothes.” He pushed Kakashi toward the bathroom, but didn’t follow him in, instead grabbing the clothes he’d brought for tomorrow. He didn’t suppose he’d be staying the night now: Kakashi was probably exhausted, and Iruka didn’t want to ruin his sleep.

Thankfully nothing much had seeped through from Kakashi’s uniform onto his skin, though Iruka did have to wash his face pretty thoroughly in the kitchen sink, which he cleaned before starting dinner.

* * *

After they’d finished cleaning up from dinner, Iruka stood to get his things together and go home. Dinner had been a quiet affair, and Kakashi still seemed tense, as if anticipating something unpleasant. Iruka had planned, to stay over, expecting Kakashi to be out – it was closer to the Academy, (and though he knew it was sentimental, he didn’t miss Kakashi as much if the pillows smelled like him). But Iruka hadn’t expected Kakashi to come home tonight, much less this on-edge, and he didn’t want to overstay his welcome.

“You could stay,” Kakashi said softly, as Iruka straightened up and looked towards his jacket. “If you wanted to.” Iruka would have had to be a poor shinobi indeed not to hear the silent If you still want to underneath.

Oh, Iruka thought, so that’s what he’s waiting for. He looked Kakashi square in the eye. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Iruka sat back down across from Kakashi and took one of his hands.

“All right,” he said, “so are you going to kick my ass at shogi, or was there something else you had in mind?” And sure, Kakashi smiled all the time, mask on or off, but that — that delighted grin Kakashi turned on him at those words — Iruka knew he wanted to see that smile again.

Kakashi took a slightly larger handicap than usual: Iruka beat him handily, and then yelled at him for not having taken advantage of an obvious chance to win a few moves earlier.

If Iruka moved a little more slowly than usual, and always kept his hands in plain sight, neither of them commented on it. And if Kakashi was a little more alert than usual, and his hands twitched toward removed weapons pouches, well, he’d taken them off.

“So,” Iruka asked as they sorted pieces to put the game away, recalling a rather puzzling conversation they’d had just before Kakashi left. “when you told me you ‘weren’t very good company’ when you get back, what you meant was ’hair-trigger for accidents’?”

“Mm,” Kakashi said, “Yeah, pretty much.” And when it looked like he might be about to say something else, shoulders stiffening, Iruka just kissed him quiet.

When they went to bed, Iruka was surprised: instead of putting as much space between them as he could, Kakashi practically climbed on top of Iruka and just held on tight. Iruka nudged Kakashi so his weight lay a little more comfortably, and closed his eyes.