If You Love Until It Hurts

A/N: If you're wondering why vodka exists in the Narutoverse, I decided that since that world is a fictional representation of Japan, then there could be a fictional representation of Russia and Finland as well, hence the vodka.



5



Grading homework had to be the dullest, most repetitive, most boring thing in the world, Kakashi decided while he toiled over the stack of papers strewn around haphazardly all over his kitchen table. On the other hand, there was the occasional gem of juvenile logic and reasoning that made even the hardened Jounin burst into guilty giggles.



“What are steroids?”

“Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs.”



He had to stop for a few minutes after that one and compose himself before he continued grading the homework. However, nothing, nothing could be compared to the following gem:



How are the main 20 parts of the body categorised (e.g. The abdomen)?

The body is consisted into 3 parts – the brainium, the borax and the abdominal cavity. The brainium contains the brain, the borax contains the heart and lungs and the abdominal cavity contains the five bowels: A, E, I, O and U.



It sounded like something Lee would come up with after he got his hands on Gai’s not so secret stash of booze. At least while he was still coherent enough to talk and before he entered the violent, establishment-shattering stage.



By the time he was done it was already late into the night, and he had developed both a crick in his neck and shoulders and a newfound respect for Iruka’s resilience. By the time he put all the sheets back in order and returned them to the folder the Chuunin gave him he was already asleep on his feet. It occurred to him that he hadn’t visited the monument properly ever since he returned from that botched mission and fought the wave of guilt that followed that realization. He was going to visit tomorrow before going to work.



Iruka’s expression remained calm when he showed up late again, though his eyes glittered in a decidedly cool and disapproving way. In the recess he gave the Chuunin the folder of graded homework as a peace offering and he took it without a word, then put it on the side of his desk without even looking inside.



The children were outside, playing, and the classroom was empty save for the two of them. Iruka was sitting behind his desk, nose buried in one of the textbooks they used. Kakashi shifted in his chair as uncomfortable silence filled the room. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore.



“Aren’t you going to ask me why I was late?” he asked.



Iruka didn’t look up from the textbook.



“It doesn’t really matter, Kakashi-san. You’re not a schoolboy to give me excuses. Even if you occasionally behave like one.”



And there was that. They spent the rest of the day in frosty silence, broken only while Iruka taught the lesson and Kakashi chimed in from time to time with information gained more from experience than the theory he had learned as a student himself. The children lapped up everything he had to say, but there weren’t any questions. There hadn’t been any questions the previous day either. He briefly wondered if it was because they understood everything he said or they remained silent because they were too shy and worried they’d ask a stupid question. Kakashi himself wasn’t entirely sure how he’d react to a barrage of immature and silly questions, so maybe the silence was a good thing. Or maybe not. That silence, compounded with Iruka’s frosty attitude was getting on his nerves. He liked his privacy, and often actively discouraged people from approaching him, but this wasn’t of his choosing and it made him feel guilty that he had disappointed the younger man so much. The old feeling of inadequacy returned.



At the end of the day Kakashi left without a word, not even a goodbye, leaving Iruka to fume in the silence of the now empty classroom. He hadn’t even apologized for his tardiness. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to see him until Monday. If he returned to work on Monday.



Iruka sighed and gathered his things from the desk. He still had a report to write about the week’s progress before he could go home. He noticed the folder of graded paperwork still sitting in the corner of his desk and realized he hadn’t actually returned it to the kids, so distracted he had been by Kakashi’s attitude. His annoyance peaked again. He had asked the man not to be late, he had explained why, and both of them being adults, he had expected that Kakashi would listen. Apparently, his words held sway for exactly three days, because on the fifth the man was over an hour late.



Maybe he was just being a control freak again. He had been accused of it before, and the one who had done it had had no idea just how right they had been. He liked things going according to plan, following a tight schedule, especially in his work. When it came to children he understood tardiness, forgetfulness, absent-mindedness, often he was even ready to forgive them or discipline those responsible without too much fuss and drama, but when it came to adults he was a lot less forgiving. The Jounin had appeared in his life and was putting a stick in the well-oiled cogs of his work, and that annoyed him to no end.



When he returned to teachers’ room he found the place empty, the rest of the staff having already gone home, save for one Shiranui Genma lounging on the stained sofa by the far window, casually chewing on a senbon. Iruka often wondered if the steel tip of the needle ever pricked his tongue and gums, but he never dared to voice such a question.



The man smiled around the senbon in his mouth and got up to greet him.



“Hello, Iruka. Long day?”



They had known each other for years and had developed close relationship over time. They were certainly friends, to the point of Iruka trusting the man with sharing private information with him, occasionally they were more than friends, even if there were no romantic feelings between them. Genma was reliable, laid-back, smart and attractive and that made him excellent company. He smiled tiredly at him.



“You have no idea, my friend.”



Iruka put the folders on the table and moved to sit beside the man on the sofa, resisting the urge to put his head in his hands. When he turned to look at his friend, Genma’s expression was amused, lips pulled into a tiny smile.



“Kakashi giving you trouble?”



Iruka narrowed his eyes at that question. He did trust Genma, more so than he trusted a lot of other people, but talking behind another Jounin’s back without a reason was generally not acceptable even between close friends. Genma probably caught onto his mood and clarified:



“I’m asking because Tsunade-sama wants to know. She sent me.”



“I was going to write a report tonight and send it to her tomorrow morning.”



“She’d like to know what you cannot say in the written report, Iruka. And knowing that you and I are close, she thought I’d be a suitable person to ask you.”



Iruka paused, choosing his words carefully.



“He’s… a difficult man.”



“You mean he’s an evasive, stuck up pain in the ass.”



Iruka gaped for a moment at those words, flushed and looked away.



“That isn’t exactly how I’d put it, but it’s an accurate description… You aren’t going to say that to Tsunade-sama, are you?”



“I don’t have to say something she already knows.” Genma pointed out. “How has he treated the students?”

“Surprisingly well, actually. He’s tardy and introverted, but he hasn’t been abusive in any way.”



“You expected him to be abusive?” Genma was sounded surprised.



“No. Not exactly. But the man has little patience for immaturity, and I expected he’d react more sharply to some of the antics of our students. Then again, there haven’t been any antics yet.”



“Wait until they adjust to his presence. All hell will break loose then.”



“Let’s hope that you’re not a good prophet.” Iruka muttered unhappily. Genma grinned at him and sidled closer to him on the sofa.



“Now that I’ve heard what I came for…how about we go to my place. You haven’t visited me in a while.”



Iruka turned to look at him, taking in the suggestive smile and the glittering eyes. He reached and cupped his cheek, tracing the elegant line of his jaw. Why not, actually? Tomorrow was Saturday, he had no classes and he did need to unwind.



“Treat me to a nice dinner first and then we can go to your place. I was subjected to screaming kids all day – I need some good food to relax first.”



Genma’s expression morphed into something that could only be described as “cat that ate the canary.”



“One delicious dinner coming your way, Iruka-sensei.” He sing-songed as they headed for the door.



Much, much later that night they lay in bed, Iruka carefully untying the rope around Genma’s wrists before pulling his torso on his lap. He massaged his wrists and palms to normalize the bloodflow to his hands, then inspected them carefully under the light of the bedside lamp for any chafed skin. There was some reddening around them so he carefully applied healing salve. His friend was so relaxed, sated and sleepy that he felt almost boneless in his lap by the time he was done with his wrists and inspected his reddened behind. The switch he had used hadn’t broken the skin anywhere and he sighed with relief, then reached for the already prepared warm, wet towel and carefully cleaned him from all traces of their coupling. Genma purred like an overgrown cat.



“You spoil me, Iruka. What am I going to do when you find yourself a regular boyfriend and decide you want to be loyal to him and only him?”



Iruka finished the cleaning, arranged Genma on the pillows and lied down next to him, tugging him in his arms and burying a hand in his messy honey-blond hair.



“You exaggerate your plight.” He pointed out with sleepy amusement. “I am hardly the only one around who can and does give you what you need.”



“Are you suggesting I’m a slut, Umino?” Genma asked with mock outrage.

Iruka laughed and ran his fingers against Genma’s ribs, tickling him and making him twitch.



“You’re far too selective to be a slut, my friend. But you are not shy and you always get what you want.”



“Hmpf.” The other huffed, though Iruka could tell he was more amused than offended. Suddenly Genma’s voice became a lot more solemn.



“I am serious, Iruka. You are one of the people I trust the most. I envy whoever gets to settle with you, eventually.”



“You are far too serious for a person who’s just been fucked repeatedly into the mattress.” Iruka pointed out. “Besides, I like my life the way it is now.” He remembered times when things weren’t nearly as serene and he had no desire to return to that.



“And what is your life now, Iruka-sensei?” Genma asked sleepily. By the time Iruka responded, he was snoring softly against his neck.



“Uncomplicated.”



Kakashi looked forward to getting back home. Generally, for the most of the time the place felt like a prison, but there were moments when it became a shelter from the outside world. And he needed that shelter now more than anything. Iruka’s cool, disapproving stare hadn’t changed all day, so intense that he could feel it even when he didn’t look at the Chuunin. It was a painful reminder of Minato’s glare after Obito’s death, a glare that remained in place for weeks, reminding him of the way he shriveled up and died inside every time he met those disapproving, disappointed blue eyes.



He couldn’t help but wonder, of course, why Iruka’s disapproval affected him so deeply – after all, as much as people admired him, they also mostly disapproved of his opinions and actions, especially the more conservative, older Jounin and Clan Leaders. They disapproved, and they always made their feelings known, but he didn’t care. Their cool stares slid off him like water on oily glass. He barely knew the Chuunin, save for the cursory conversations they had in the Mission room which were entirely work-related as well as that loud argument they had had during the Chuunin exam. It was a tangle of emotions Kakashi wasn’t ready to pick at the moment.



He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he almost missed Gai sitting on the steps before his apartment building, his dark green jumpsuit blending with the twilight shadows. Of course, Gai would never allow Kakashi to not notice his presence.



“Hello, my eternal rival!” the man announced, quickly climbing to his feet and giving him his trademark smile. His teeth gleamed in the rapidly gathering darkness. Kakashi knew that the man was immune to any attempts at being ignored, as well to snide, underhanded comments requesting him politely to get lost. The best one could do when cornered by Konoha’s Green Beast was to endure.



“Gai.” He greeted, hands in his pockets.



“I returned from a mission this morning and heard that you have a new job.” Gai said, managing to make even that simple sentence sound exuberant. Kakashi didn’t know whether to admire him or to cringe. He also wondered if doing both at the same time would cause some kind of time and space continuum paradox. Gai grinned again.



“Since I see that you’re out and about, once again healthy…” he paused and looked at Kakashi’s leg, a show passing over his otherwise cheerful features “Well, mostly healthy, so I decided it’s high time we had another contest.”



Kakashi never managed to figure out why exactly he took part in that sort of dick measuring with Gai. He knew he had Issues, with capital I, but lack of self-confidence in his own abilities as a Nin wasn’t one of them. He didn’t need to win a contest against Gai to feel empowered, or manlier. He could just turn around, ignore Gai, and go home, lock himself in his empty apartment and spend the weekend moping or do other, less even productive activities, especially in the light of today’s events. However, he didn’t WANT to be doing that again, not after all the mess that had followed the last time. As annoying as Gai was, he was also one of the few constants in Kakashi’s life, a permanent fixture that anchored him to reality.



His eye focused on Gai, who still stood there, chest puffed up, smile firmly in place, though he could tell that it was an effort to maintain the same expression for so long – his facial muscles were trembling with the effort.



“What kind of a contest?” he asked dully.



Gai suddenly produced a large bottle of liquor and shoved it under Kakashi’s nose so he could read the label. Kakashi looked down to humour him, but he couldn’t read the inscription – it was written in an unfamiliar script. The liquid itself seemed completely colourless, just like water. He looked back up at guy and it occurred to him that his jumpsuit had no pockets. Where the bottle had been hidden up to that moment he didn’t want to know.



“I brought the booze!” Gai exclaimed triumphantly.



“A drinking contest?”



The other man nodded and if anything, his grin became wider.



“You have doctor’s orders not to strain yourself yet.”



“And you’d rather get me drunk rather than try to convince me to push myself beyond my limits?” Kakashi asked, eye narrowing suspiciously. Suddenly Gai’s exuberant expression grew painfully serious. Kakashi blinked in surprise, then berated himself for forgetting that Gai could and would become more serious than Ibiki if he decided that the situation warranted it. He almost never did that, because he rarely took anything too seriously, preferring to always see the best in people and circumstances. He envied him for that.



“I learned my lesson with Lee, Kakashi. His recovery taught me a few things.” Gai answered solemnly, his expression sad, contemplative. It was odd to see that look on his face.



Kakashi’s expression softened and he looked down at their feet. They had both failed their students.



“Come in.” he said quietly.



He almost never allowed people inside his home, and Gai was one of the only exceptions.



They walked in, removed their sandals in the genkan and paddled barefeet to the living room, where Gai placed the bottle on the table and made himself comfortable on the sofa. Then he produced a porcelain sake cup and placed it next to the bottle. At Kakashi’s questioning look, he explained:



“I know you have only one here, so I brought my own.”



Right. This wasn’t the first time they had done this. At least he didn’t offer to buy him another set of kitchen utensils this time.



Kakashi nodded and went to get his own cup. When he returned he found Gai looking thoughtfully at bottle’s label, finger tracing the unfamiliar symbols. Whatever language this was written in, neither of them knew it.



Kakashi sat down next to Gai and placed his own cup next to his. Still looking at the bottle, Gai explained:



“One of Neji’s cousins returned from a mission to the far west and gave this to him. Neji doesn’t drink, neither does Ten Ten, and they both know better than to give Lee any access to alcohol, so he gave the bottle to me.” Gai paused, still tracing the letters on the label. Kakashi leaned to try and read them again.



“ВОДКА”



Nope, it didn’t seem anymore familiar than it did the first time.



“Neji said that his cousin said that this was called er…voda.” Gai paused again. “Wait, no. Vodu… vodi…ah, yes, VODKA! It’s called vodka!” He exclaimed triumphantly.



Vodka? Who the hell named alcohol like that?! Then again, it fit the rest of Gai’s weirdness quite well.



“Whatever.” muttered Kakashi and pulled down his mask. Gai didn’t look up – he was one of the few people who had seen his face plenty of times, the first time being an emergency when Kakashi got hurt, taking a kunai to the chest for Gai. The latter was one of the few around whom Kakashi felt comfortable enough to be without a mask, displaying his face… his father’s face, in such an open, unabashed way. “What are the rules of the contest? We drink until one of us passes out?”



“The first one to pass out loses.” Gai agreed. Kakashi thought about it and wondered exactly how they would remember in the morning which one of them passed out first – consuming alcohol in such quantities was generally not particularly helpful to one’s memory. Then again, Gai had a good memory when he chose to, which didn’t happen all that often.



His guest poured the alcohol in the two cups and Kakashi picked his, lifting it under his nose and taking a wiff of the clear liquid – it smelled sharp and clear. Shrugging, he gulped the whole thing down.



His eyes watered and he twitched in a desperate attempt to take a breath so he could curse Gai, Neji, Neji’s cousin and the whole clan Hyuuga. Next to him, Gai thoughtfully smacked his lips.



“Pure distilled youthful spirit!” the Konoha Green Beast exclaimed, grinning at his empty cup. Kakashi silently fumed, both literally and figuratively, the alcohol still burning in his throat, although he felt a pleasant warmth spreading from his stomach to his extremities. Besides, he wasn’t about to let Gai know that he had almost choked on his own tongue. He offered his cup again. Perhaps he hadn’t been entirely correct about the dick measuring.