Questionable Loyalty

A/N: I am quite sure that ninja have computers and, consequently, laptops. After all, their medical equipment looks fairly sophisticated - don't ask me why people in their world travel with steam-boats or horse carriages. Ask Kishimoto. XD



CHAPTER 10





Several days later, Kakashi was back in Konoha, feeling tired, frustrated and in an urgent need of a shower. The weather, thankfully, appeared to have cooled a little and he no longer felt like he was boiling in his own sauce.



Despite his annoyance and exhaustion, he strolled in the mission room as if he owned it then slouched against a wall while he waited for his turn before Iruka’s desk. Thankfully, the queue wasn’t that long, because soon he was standing before the chuunin and handing him the film. Faking an explosion and taking pictures of the aftermath hadn’t been a problem for a nin of his caliber.



“I am afraid that his associates decided to get rid of him without showing up at all. Someone had rigged the road before his car with explosives.” He said casually, allowing the tiniest amount of frustration he was really feeling to seep into his voice.



The disappointment on the young man’s face was genuine:



“How unfortunate.” He muttered, but put the movie away. “I would expect a full report later, Kakashi-san.”



Kakashi nodded.



“Of course.”



Iruka’s brown eyes softened.



“You look exhausted.” A tiny smile played on his tanned lips. “I have seen enough exhausted jounin working here to know the signs, despite how well you all fake strength and alertness, Kakashi-san.” The smile widened a little, but remained good-natured. “And you stink.”



Kakashi offered a smile of his own.



“In that case I will go, Iruka-san.”



He bowed and with a quiet bang disappeared into a cloud of smoke, porting himself back in his apartment. In the mission room Iruka coughed, waved his hand to clear the smoke and muttered something about the damn jounins always doing that.



Back in his home Kakashi absently tugged off his smelly, stinky, sticky clothes and dumped them in the hamper, then turned on his shower and slid under the lukewarm spray. He was tired and hungry for something more substantial and tastier than powerbars, but the need to be clean and to refresh himself was much greater.



Gradually, he could feel the tension beginning to leave his muscles, washed away by the water, along with the filth of the journey. He pressed his forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall and finally allowed himself to think about what had happened. He had always known just how far Pein was ready to go to achieve his goals, but the drug dealing somehow sickened and upset him more than everything else. He should’ve contacted his lover, asked him for an explanation, justification even, but part of him had been afraid to do that, shying away from what Pein could possibly tell him. He couldn’t think straight when he was around him. Even now, the mere memory of him made his body thrum with desire.



At first, Kakashi had suspected that the reason why he was so eager to join the red-head’s cause was the amazing sex – the kind of which he had never had before meeting him – but he wasn’t that shallow or stupid. It was something else entirely, something deeper – Pein had given him a dream, and most of all, he had made him feel like a person – one with emotions and needs and desires, and not like a mindless, brainwashed tool which only existed to follow orders until it broke and was discarded for a newer, shinier one. He felt a wave of warmth at that thought, both emotional and physical. Despite his frustration and anger towards the red-head, he missed him terribly. His hand travelled between his thighs and bypassed his hardening cock to tease at his clenching entrance. He missed being taken, possessed, owned, loved.



“Pein-sama…” Kakashi mewled softly as his own fingers slid into his body, stretching him deliciously but being a poor substitute for the real thing. Despite his arousal he was immediately flooded with paranoia at saying that precious name out loud, even deep into his own home. With a sigh, he began to suckle on the fingers of his other free hand, determined to muffle his cries of need as his own fingers worked him to the peak of his pleasure.



Afterwards, he allowed the shower to wash away the proof of his self-indulgence. When he was done, Kakashi wrapped his narrow hips in a soft towel and went to his kitchen, eager to raid his fridge for anything that hadn’t spoiled for the past several weeks.



A cup of tea and a box of stiff biscuits later he was slumbering in bed, dreaming of blood and strange eyes and gentle but possessive hands.



In the morning he woke up early and after a short trip to the Monument and a silent conversation with Obito, he sat down to write his report. Almost the whole of it was true – following the man for days on end, waiting hidden in the rocks surrounding that valley, the man’s associates killing him… only the actual manner in which he died was different. The explosion Kakashi had set up should’ve covered the traces of the real cause of death.



As he wrote the report his mind repeatedly returned to Obito, as it happened every time when he visited the Monument after a long absence. Kakashi often wondered if his friend would approve of his actions or if he would condemn him as a traitor. He was sure that Minato-sensei would be horrified and disgusted, and angry.



Kakashi’s fingers froze over the laptop’s keyboard and he cringed inwardly at the memory of his Sensei. His betrayal of him was perhaps the most personal – after all, Naruto was his son. However, he truly believed that his cause was just, even if the means were anything but noble.



‘To make an omelet’ Minato-sensei had said once ‘first you need to break the egg.’



Funny how that was something his Sensei had mentioned, and not Pein, since it described the red-head’s philosophy frighteningly well. It wasn’t so surprising, come to think about it – the Akatsuki Leader was the very product of the society he so desperately wished to change.



Later that day Kakashi went to the Mission room to hand in his report but the other Chuunin there told him that Iruka wasn’t on shift today – he was at the Academy, apparently. He nodded, thanked them and left.



This was even better, he decided, as he walked down the quiet corridors. He would be able to hand him the report and talk to him without all the others looking at them.



Iruka was in his classroom, grading papers. The students apparently had a practical somewhere. He looked up when Kakashi entered and blinked.



“Kakashi-san?”



“Hello, Sensei.” Kakashi said simply and walked up to his desk.



“I brought you your report. I knew it couldn’t wait.”



Iruka gingerly took the offered folder and looked inside.



“You’re not tardy and the report itself is clearly written… and there are no spots from spilled tea… Kakashi-san, what brought on that change?” he asked, clearly dumbfounded.



Kakashi shrugged.



“I realized that I was very short with you before. During our… private conversation. And it was completely out of turn to threaten you the way I did. I wanted to apologise.”



Iruka was still looking at him suspiciously, so Kakashi was forced to elaborate.



“I am a very private person, Sensei, as you must’ve noticed. What happened in that alley was against my better judgement. I am only human, after all. Even I make mistakes. I am afraid that the apprehension of the consequences of that mistake made me speak the way I did.”



Iruka smiled and nodded.



“I understand. Apology accepted, Kakashi-san. And you need not worry – as I said before, I am not a blabbermouth or a gossip. Your secret is safe with me.”



Iruka watched as relief appeared on the visible part of Kakashi’s face.



“Thank you.” He smiled at him in the sweetest way he could. “Allow me to show my gratitude by buying you a drink. After you are done with your classes, of course.”



“You, the great Hatake Kakashi, want to drink with me, the lowly Chuunin?” Iruka asked, mockery and incredulity mixing in his tone.



“Why, my paranoid self wants to make sure that I truly am in your good graces so you wouldn’t be tempted to defy your nature and tell someone of the free show I gave you.” Kakashi said lightly and waited for the reaction.



Iruka chuckled then, a clear, gentle sound.



“You are incorrigible.” The Chuunin accused, but kept smiling. “Very well. I’ll come, just for a little drink.”



As Kakashi was leaving the room, he was smiling triumphantly under his mask – indeed, as with the report, the partial truth worked far better than an outright lie.



Iruka watched the Jounin retreat, his eyes drawn to the firm bottom and the narrow hips clad in the loose indigo uniform, gently swaying with each graceful step. He couldn’t help it – every time he spoke with the other man, his mind was assaulted by the memory of what he had seen in that alley, of the creature of pure wanton passion that Kakashi had turned into. It was a miracle that his face didn’t burst into flame when they conversed. Iruka didn’t want it to be like that, feeling that it was disrespectful, but it was stronger than him.



With a groan, he covered his face in his hands and hoped that he wouldn’t give himself away once he had a few drinks.