If You Love Until It Hurts

A/N: Things are finally beginning to heat up, but literally and figuratively. I just hope that I managed to keep them both in character.



8



Iruka woke up at dawn on the next day. The sun was not up yet, and the pale morning light seeped through the open window, barely illuminating their room. The air was crisp and chilly and he shivered under his blanket, regretting the decision to leave the window open the previous night. It took him a few moments to wake up completely and to realize that one side of his body wasn’t actually cold, because there was something, or someone, warm pressed against his hip and shoulder. Slowly, he turned and saw a mop of silvery hair right under his chin. He pulled his head back as much as he could so he could take a better look and discovered that Kakashi had curled up in a fetal position under his blankets, and had pressed himself as close to Iruka as possible, his arms wrapped around his own hand, his forehead pressed against his shoulder.



Iruka paused to think about their predicament, unsure how to proceed. One thing was certain – if Kakashi woke up the way he was, he’d be absolutely mortified, so he couldn’t just stay. On the other hand, if he tried to pull away, he’d probably wake the Jounin anyway. All ninja were very light sleepers – it was part of the paranoia one developed as a result of their occupation. He was quite sure that Kakashi would be even more paranoid than others, considering his high profile and the price on his head.



Iruka considered the situation for a few more minutes, then made his decision, took a deep breath and carefully pulled his hand away from Kakashi’s grip. Thankfully, it was slack from sleep, so it didn’t present as much of a problem as he thought it would be. Kakashi muttered something unintelligible in his sleep, but did not wake up. Odd.



When he was free of the Jounin’s grasp Iruka quietly slid his entire body away from him, once again turning to look at him before leaving the warm cocoon of his covers. Kakashi’s face was covered with a white surgical mask that had come almost loose while he had been asleep, one end slipping and revealing a smooth cheek, the elegant curve of his jaw and the corner of his mask. In the pale light he saw the tiny silvery hairs of Kakashi’s morning stubble and briefly wondered just how uncomfortable those were when one wore a mask all the time.



What Iruka had said to Kakashi many weeks ago when they first sat in that teahouse was true – he wasn’t a prying boy unable to help himself in his attempts to uncover his face. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. He was probably just as curious as Kakashi’s team had been. All he had to do was to reach out and gently tug the already slipping mask. He didn’t. The older man trusted him, to the point of sleeping soundly even when he moved about, and he couldn’t betray that trust by taking advantage of it the first chance he got. So he firmly stomped onto his curiosity and got up, then headed for the bathroom. When or if Kakashi felt comfortable to show him his face he would show it to him, and not a minute earlier. By the time he came out of the bathroom, Kakashi was awake and dressed as well, waiting for his turn, bidding Iruka a sleepy “Good Morning.”



They took their breakfast in the inn’s common room. It was still too early and the children were asleep, so they didn’t have to worry about them seeing Kakashi’s face as he ate. They had just finished when the students began to file in, one by one, excited, loud and happy. The calm in the room was broken when the children’s voices filled it, but Iruka had been prepared for it. Kakashi winced a few times, but other than that there was no reaction. Iruka was surprised how quickly he managed to get used to his life and job as a teacher.



Later that day they finally visited the hot springs, or, more precisely, the pools filled with water from the hot springs, but not before they washed in the communal showers. Iruka had better manners than to peek at his colleague in the showers, despite his curiosity, but when they headed for pool his gaze finally fell on Kakashi’s form.



One always expected that a Jounin would be large and heavily muscled – most of them possessed a frightening amount of physical strength, but that was rarely true, actually. Kakashi was no exception – slender and lithe, he was definitely very fit, but far from being bulky. If anything, Iruka was heavier set than him. His skin was lily white, which was natural considering his hair colour, and flushing quickly as he stepped in the hot water and pulled away the towel around his hips before sinking in. Iruka got a glimpse of soft, silvery curls at the base of his organ before Kakashi submerged himself up to his chest in the water and walk up to him, sitting on an underwater bench, looking more relaxed than he had been in weeks.



They remained in companionable silence for a while, basking in the warmth of the water and the serenity of the pool, knowing that it would be broken once the students began joining in. Most onsen had rules against making excessive noise at the pools, but having that many children in one place meant that those rules might as well go down the drain.



“Joining you for this trip wasn’t such a bad idea after all.” Kakashi suddenly spoke, leaning back against the side of the pool, his uncovered eye closed in bliss. Iruka wished he could see the rest of his face, covered by a light and damp surgical mask, similar to the one had been wearing while sleeping. His gaze slid over the mask and to his throat, exposed and vulnerable as it was with Kakashi’s head thrust back. His pale skin was flushed and glistening with moisture. His adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed and Iruka followed its movement almost instinctively, surprised at the tightening he felt in his groin. He looked away, somewhat embarrassed. This was ridiculous. He worked with Kakashi on a daily basis, he couldn’t afford to see him in such a light. It was unprofessional.



They were both torn out of their reverie when the boys suddenly splashed into the pool, speaking animatedly to each other. Iruka could hear the female students laughing and wading in the water of the other pool, hidden behind a bamboo wall. So much for peace and quiet. He smiled and turned to look at Kakashi, who was glowering at the students.



“Maybe I should sic a water dragon on them. I learned that technique from a Mist nin a while ago.” He mused out loud.



“I am sure that the owners would appreciate you destroying their property and livelihood.” Iruka answered lightly.



“Why must you be always right?” Kakashi answered with mock hurt and Iruka chuckled.



“It’s the natural order of things.”



Kakashi grumbled something unintelligible under his mask which sounded suspiciously like a curse. Iruka cupped his hand and splashed a handful of water at him without even looking at the Jounin, listening to him sputter in indignation afterwards. Apparently the students approved of Iruka’s actions, because a splashing battle immediately broke out in the pool.



“Must you give them ideas?” Kakashi muttered, though Iruka could tell he was just pretending to be grumpy.



“If I’m always right, then my ideas are also always good.” Iruka pointed out, the corners of his mouth twitching, almost unable to control himself. Kakashi lost it first and burst into helpless laughter, quickly followed by the younger man. Later, it occurred to Iruka that this was the first time he had ever heard Kakashi laugh. He had seen him smile plenty of times, but he had never heard him laugh. It was a good, care-free sound.



Kakashi managed to compose himself after a while, snorting and gasping for breath, then turned to look at him, his single uncovered eye twinkling in a decidedly devious fashion. ‘He’s up to no good.’ thought Iruka, and, as already established, he was right. Kakashi’s hands gathered in a lightning fast sequence of seals, too many and too rapidly executed for Iruka to even try and figure out what he was doing. Not that he needed to wait for much longer in order to find out – a translucent dragon about as large as Iruka’s leg suddenly burst from the clear surface of the water, circled around the pool several times and drawing everyone’s attention to itself, then dived back in, causing a large wave and splash that soaked everyone inside.



With a long suffering sigh Iruka took the now wet towel off his head and twisted to squeeze the water out, then gave Kakashi a baleful look. The Jounin gave him his characteristic smile, his eye creasing to a happy half-moon.



“Wow, Kakashi-sensei, that was so awesome!”



They both turned and realized that the boys had gathered and were standing in a small half-circle in front of them, awe and admiration written all over their little faces. Kakashi actually beamed at them and Iruka leaned back against the wall, letting him enjoy his moment. The students were all talking together, asking questions all at the same time, practically bouncing on their feet with excitement.



“Can you make it bigger?”

“Or make it roar?”

“Can you do a fire dragon too? My uncle says that you know a thousand techniques!”

“Where did you learn it?”

“Was it from your Sensei?”

“Uncle says that you were student of the Forth Hokage himself! Did he teach it to you? What was he like?”



Something passed through Kakashi’s expression, so quickly that had Iruka not been a trained professional, he’d have doubted his own eyes, something dark and painful. Kakashi was the kind of man who hid his emotions even better than Naruto did, not to mention that he was aided by the ever-present mask, but for whatever reason, the students’ words provoked an emotion powerful enough that not even he was able to stop it from showing in his eyes. Iruka used his distraction to examine him, to observe the change in body language – his back was straight and stiff, but the shoulders were drawn protectively forward.



“No, kids, I learned that technique on my own.” He answered lightly. Too lightly. “Though my Sensei taught me many others.”



“What was he like, Kakashi-sensei?”



There was a long, pregnant pause. The dark emotion Iruka had thought he had glimpsed earlier was back now, assuring him he hadn’t imagined it. Kakashi actually seemed at a loss of words. Iruka was about to interfere and shoo the curious brats away, but then the Jounin finally spoke:



“He was a kind man.” His voice was quiet, almost brittle “A great Ninja and a great mentor. A great… a great friend.” He finished and swallowed. The students seemed disappointed by that description. Apparently they were expecting Kakashi to say that the great Fourth Hokage had four balls and shot lightning out of his ass, so the more human description didn’t measure up their idealized image.



“Now, if you’ll all excuse me.” Kakashi said, suddenly getting up and turning to Iruka “I think the hot water is a bit much for me. I’ll go take a walk in the garden, Iruka.” He turned to the students then “I’ll see you later, kids. Don’t bring the ryokan down on our heads in the meantime.”



Iruka nodded, too confused by what had just transpired to say anything else. After Kakashi was gone, one of the boys turned to him and asked:



“Did we offend him, Iruka-sensei?”



Iruka sighed, wondering about the same thing. There had been nothing offensive about the questions themselves, and it had been over fifteen years since the man had died. Yes, Kakashi had been his student, but the mourning period had long passed.



“Kakashi-san is a private man, Ichiro.” He answered carefully. “He probably felt a little uncomfortable being asked about his Sensei.”



“Oh. We should apologize then?”



“No!” he said sharply. “Don’t talk about this with him again.”



When he returned to their room, over an hour and a half later, Kakashi still wasn’t there. The hot water made him tired and drowsy, and he lied down for a while, savoring the feeling of warmth that permeated his relaxed muscles. It had been quite a while since he had last been able to spend time in a place like this. Iruka dozed off without even realizing, and woke up a few hours later when he heard the sliding door of their room opening and closing.

He looked up at Kakashi, his dark eyes still bleary from sleep. The Jounin walked up to him, then sat down on the ground next to his prone form.



“I see the hot water was a bit too much for you as well, Iruka.” He said with amusement as Iruka yawned and stretched like a lazy cat, then drew himself up and sat down.



“Did you enjoy your walk?”



Kakashi shrugged.



“It was pleasant enough. They have a very nice garden.” He paused, fidgeted for a moment, then continued “I discovered very nice training grounds behind the garden. Apparently Ninja often visit this ryokan.”



“That they do.” Iruka replied.



“I was thinking…” Kakashi cleared his throat “I was thinking, after dinner we may go and have a little sparring match? “



Iruka cocked his head on one side.



“I thought you weren’t ready to train yet?”



Kakashi frowned at him.



“A little exercise would do me good. Besides, I’m not going to strain myself too much.”



“Oh? You think me harmless, Kakashi?” he teased gently.



Kakashi huffed.



“Considering what you did to Orochimaru’s agent, I know that you’re far from harmless.”



“Well, in that case I wouldn’t want to disappoint you”



They had a late lunch, then went to have a walk – Kakashi apparently had indeed liked the garden a lot, because he seemed eager to show Iruka around. That is, as eager as that man could seem, given his laid back, introverted nature. The whole thing had come as somewhat of a surprise to the Chuunin – in his previous visits to this particular ryokan the layout of its grounds had been quite different and they had done a complete overhaul after the last time he had been here, something their hostess confirmed when they asked her at the end of their lunch. The training field had been added then too.



After lunch, he followed Kakashi out to the field and looked around curiously – they were on a large, well-maintained lawn, surrounded by a tall bamboo fence designed to give privacy to those who trained here.



They reached the middle of the field before Iruka spoke:



“So, hand-to-hand only or you wish to use Ninjustu as well?”

Kakashi shook his head:



“We’re here to rest, yes? I’d rather not expend my chakra unnecessary.”



Iruka nodded, then began to stretch, watching from the corner of his eye Kakashi do the same. The Jounin was nimble and flexible, though he could tell the leg hobbled him uncomfortably, as much as he tried to hide that. He thought to offer to postpone the sparring session until Kakashi had healed some more, but when he met his gaze the gleam in his single uncovered eye changed his mind. The older man had his pride and did not wish to be coddled, and Iruka respected that.



When they did begin to fight though, his misgivings and doubts about this idea dissipated. Despite his crippling injury, Kakashi was more than a worthy opponent, which was to be expected, given his reputation. Iruka quickly found himself on the defensive, blocking and dodging lightning fast punches, secretly thankful that his partner couldn’t use any kicks effectively in his condition, or this fight would’ve become very short. He knew that he was far from being helpless, that he kept himself in top shape, but Kakashi had the advantage of experience on his side, above all else. He fought fast and dirty, using nasty, underhanded tactics without any hesitation. Then again, he often sparred against Gai, as far Iruka knew, and he was bound to have learned a few things from him.



Still, he was in fact able to hold his own against the Jounin, though soon they were both panting and sweating from the effort to both execute their moves and calculate their opponent’s intentions.



Despite being intensely focused on Kakashi, Iruka couldn’t help but feel excited. It had been a while since he had gone against such a dangerous and talented opponent, not to mention that here the aim wasn’t to kill each other but to train. Fighting for one’s life carried its own excitement, but Iruka wasn’t one of the people who particularly enjoyed it, and he enjoyed killing even less. He would do what he had to do during a mission, but that didn’t mean he’d be defined by it. This was different, however. Their movements were in synch with each other, fast, furious and graceful, almost like a dance. It was exhilarating. Iruka wondered if Kakashi felt the same way.



When they were done, several hours later, they were exhausted, sore, sweaty but quite pleased with themselves. Kakashi stretched and Iruka followed suit.



“That” Kakashi began, his voice light “felt better than anything I’ve experience in weeks, Iruka. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”



Iruka shrugged and smiled.



“You’re welcome. Now, how about we go in and take a shower? I think we both stink like dead rats.”



“Indeed.” Kakashi frowned. “The communal showers will he full now, and we only have one in our room…”



“We could always share it?” Iruka offered.



“Share it.” Kakashi said flatly. Iruka nodded slowly, suddenly realizing that sharing a shower with Kakashi would put him further in his personal space than he had ever been before. He expected the older man to reject the idea, given his track record, but after a short moment of consideration, the Jounin nodded. “Very well. Let’s go.”



As they walked through the garden and then into the building, Kakashi’s heard hammered against his ribcage so hard that it felt like it’d burst. Share a shower with Iruka? What had possessed him to accept such a crazy idea? He hadn’t shared a shower with anyone, since… since… his mind shied away from that memory, for it still carried so much grief and pain after all these years.



He deliberately walked in front of Iruka, leading the way and not turning back. Kakashi wasn’t sure how he’d react if he turned and looked into his kind face. He’d probably confess everything. He finally understood what was going on with him, understood that he felt in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Those emotions flowered within him – the need to trust, to share, to explore. It was horrible. He had no place feeling like this again, trusting someone like that again. He couldn’t betray Minato’s memory like this, couldn’t put Iruka into such mortal danger. It was wrong to even want this.



When they reached the door of their room, he paused and turned, cruel words about to spill from his mouth, to ruin everything that had developed between them in the past weeks. It was better this way, safer. He had to stop this madness before it went too far. He met kind, warm brown eyes and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.



Iruka cocked his head to once side like a curious dog, a tiny smile playing on his lips.



“Everything alright, Kakashi?”



No, it was far from alright. He should tell him to mind his own business right now. He should… he should…



“Yes.” He whispered. “Everything’s okay.”



The smile widened, still a little confused. Kakashi could feel him shrugging mentally. Then Iruka reached over Kakashi’s shoulder, suddenly standing closer to him than ever before and pushed the sliding door to their room open.



“Let’s go then. We don’t want to offend the other guests with our smell, do we?”



Not trusting his voice, Kakashi nodded without a word and went into the room, followed by the younger man.



They undressed quietly, folding their clothes by the door for the staff to wash them later.



Soon they were both naked, save for Kakashi’s mask, and Iruka politely turned to one side as the Jounin took it off and tied the light surgical mask in its place, then both went into the bathroom.



True, each room in the hotel had its own toilet and bathroom, unlike many others where those facilities were communal, but the space they were allotted was tiny. The bathroom was cramped to the point where they couldn’t stand side by side without some part of theirs not touching – shoulders, elbows, hips. Kakashi turned his back to Iruka and turned the water on, setting the heat to a comfortable temperature, then slid under the steaming spray with a sigh of relief. After a moment it occurred to him he was hogging the entire spray, and he stepped forward as much as he could, pressing his hands against the slick tiled wall. He could feel Iruka pressing forward as well. Their bodies weren’t touching, but he could feel his presence, could feel the heat emanating from him, mingling with the heat from the shower. Kakashi began to relax instinctively. It had been many years since he had been with Minato, but the old habits died hard, and his training easily took over. Showering together had been a reward, something Minato did when he was pleased with him, with his performance, both on the battlefield and in private. Back then, these mutual showers weren’t even sexual in nature most of the time, rather than just being a way to show affection, tenderness, love. It had made him feel sheltered from the world that had caused him so much pain, safe in his Master’s arms.



He leaned further forward, pressing his masked cheek against the cool tiles and closing his eyes, half-expecting a pair of strong hands to hug him from behind, pull him against a powerful, golden body. Somewhere, at the back of his mind, a tiny voice reminded him that it was but a memory, that it was his training speaking, making him react like this. It was so deeply ingrained in him, affecting him and influencing his behaviour even after all these years that he couldn’t help himself. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. It had been so many years since he had felt the touch of another, so many years since he had been in the presence of someone who invoked the same feeling of safety. The fact that the Chuunin did so was extraordinary, frightening even, but he could no longer ignore it, or deny it. The mental image of his Master and the Chuunin slowly began to blur together, and the voice grew fainter and fainter until it faded completely and only the sense of blissful safety remained.



Then, suddenly, a hand reached over his shoulder, grabbing the soap on the stand near his head. He watched the hand through slitted eyes and realized that it was the wrong skin tone to be Minato’s, it was the wrong shape to be Minato’s. His breath caught in horror. Iruka. What was he doing? What would the Chuunin think to see him acting like this?!



He tensed immediately, his heart suddenly hammering wildly in his chest, his breath coming in short, terrified gasps. That tensing was possibly the worst thing he could have done, he realized later, as his already strained leg couldn’t take it and cramped. The pain shot up from his calf all the way up to his hip and he dug his nails in the wall not in pleasure, but in agony. The next thing that occurred to him that there was no way he could remain in balance on one leg only on the slippery tiles. Trying to hop away on one leg to sit down and massage the muscles into obedience was out of the question, and with Iruka sharing the tiny space with him there was no place left for him to slide down and sit on the floor.



Iruka watched as Kakashi suddenly stiffened against the wall, his body language changing in a matter of seconds from relaxed, almost lethargic, to tense and alert. If he didn’t know Kakashi better, he would’ve said that he seemed to be close to hyperventilating. Iruka paused, unsure how to proceed, both wanting to preserve Kakashi’s dignity and to be sure that there was nothing wrong with him.



“Kakashi? Is there something wrong?”



The was a long, tense silence and Iruka thought that maybe the man hadn’t heard him and prepared to ask again when Kakashi finally spoke through gritted teeth:



“My leg is cramped. I don’t…” he hissed “I don’t think I can move.”



Oh.



Iruka thought about it for a moment, then took a small step forward and carefully reached for him. Kakashi stiffened even more when his hand wrapped around his middle and got a careful grip on his forearm with the other but he did not flinch.

“Try to relax and lean your weight on me.” Iruka said, trying sound as detached as possible. Even if he was a trained Ninja, taught to ignore distractions, it was hard to remain focused when he had an armful of a wet Kakashi. He was only human after all.



Kakashi was still stiff as a board in his arms even if he wasn’t trying to pull away. Iruka gently rubbed his forearm up and down in an attempt to soothe him and spoke quietly.



“I can wash you, if you want. We’re already here anyway, so…”



It took a moment of consideration, but Kakashi nodded eventually. Iruka sighed with relief and tightened his grip around his middle, pulling him closer so he would be sure they wouldn’t lose their balance, then let go of Kakashi’s forearm and reached for the soap again. The Jounin offered no resistance, though his muscles became even more rigid when his naked back pressed against Iruka’s equally naked chest, the hot water sluicing over them. Iruka tried to shift as much as possible so Kakashi’s behind would be touching his organ – that would probably be a little too intimate for the both of them. As established, he was only human after all, and having Kakashi’s athletic body pressed against him like that was bound to cause a reaction, more or less, regardless of his attempts to suppress it. He didn’t want a Chidori to his face, after all, if Kakashi felt something like that.



He took the soap and gently ran it over Kakashi’s sides, then his chest, trying remain as detached as he could, his fingers running over his smooth skin, encountering the occasional scar. Kakashi felt warm, alive, the stiffness slowly leaving his muscles as he relaxed in Iruka’s grip. By the time he reached his hair, he had become warm and pliant in his grip in a way that made Iruka react in an entirely inappropriate manner.



He paused after he washed the soap suds away from Kakashi’s hair, trying to figure out a way to suppress his physical reaction before the man turned around and noticed his predicament. It would probably break whatever trust that had been built between them up to that moment and Iruka was ready to do almost anything to avoid that. Despite their initial differences, Kakashi had slowly let him in, had allowed him to get to know him, had begun to trust and confide in him, albeit haltingly and hesitantly. He didn’t want to ruin that.



Orochimaru, he decided, Orochimaru in a high-school girl outfit, his hairy legs sticking out under the too short plaid skirt, his creepy face leering down at him, wearing bright pink lipstick and purple eye-shadow. The mental image was enough for whatever arousal he felt to dissipate and he relaxed when his problem went away.



“Kakashi?” He said quietly and the Jounin suddenly startled in his arms, but did not stiffen the way he did the first time. With Iruka’s help, he slowly turned back to look at him, looking dazed and sleepy, like he had just woken up. And then, it suddenly occurred to Iruka that his mask had slipped away, probably washed off by the shower without either of them noticing.