Huh. Sometimes you just get hit over the back of the head with a song that's absolutely perfect for a pairing or an idea. I mean, you're minding your own business when suddenly, whack! And then you go all tingly, because it's just...cool. So. I'm sure I've called this song before and done lyrics for it, but I'm doing it again.
Here I'm debating time, I'm waiting,
Chime the wake
Free fall the cannonball, volcanic,
shatters on the lake.
You settle down, where you runnin to?
What else can you prove?
How many, many more until you lose?
You thought a better plan could
shake this shadow land
This frozen tundra hand...
I'm turning it from shade to light
Hold it up to candlelight, roaring into firelight,
Scorching up the charlatans until it's city wide
All the people mobilize, nothing left to polarize
And nothing left to fake.
Ring around the lake. Ring around the lake.
Right on time. Will you stay
through the pouring rain?
Right on time...through the night,
Your laughter is my light
Right on time, desperation song
Dear, I have missed your sigh
Since crystal skies moved on
Peer out through Shadow's doubt
I had no passion all along
You settle down. Where you running to?
What else can you prove?
Is this all a game? Was this all a ruse?
I've waited by the phone. Cold as river stone
Anxiety Alone...
I'm turning it from shade to light
Hold it up to candlelight, roaring into firelight,
Scorching up the charlatans until it's city wide
All the people mobilize, nothing left to polarize
And nothing left to fake
Ring around the lake. Ring around the lake.
Right on time. Will you stay
Through the pouring rain?
Right on time...through the night,
Your laughter is my light
Right on time, desperation song
-Carbon Leaf, "Desperation Song"
I mean, dude. It doesn't get a whole lot more SasuNaru than that, does it? I mean, we're being completely unsubtle here. I love the song, though- it has a peculiar sort of energy to it.
For those wondering, yes, yes I am putting together my own personal fan soundtrack here. Don't ask.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
The Dresden Dolls- Coin Operated Boy
coin operated boy
sitting on the shelf- he is just a toy
but i turn him on, and he comes to life
automatic joy
that is why i want a coin operated boy
made of plastic and elastic
he is rugged and long-lasting
who could ever ever ask for more-
love without complications galore
many shapes and weights to choose from
i will never leave my bedroom
i will never cry at night again
wrap my arms around him and pretend....
coin operated boy
all the other real ones that i destroy
cannot hold a candle to my new boy, and i'll
never let him go and i'll never be alone
not with my coin operated boy......
this bridge was written to make you feel smittener
with my sad picture of girl getting bitterer
can you extract me from my plastic fantasy
i didn't think so but i'm still convinceable
will you persist even after i bet you
a billion dollars that i'll never love you
will you persist even after i kiss you
goodbye for the last time
will you keep on trying to prove it?
i'm dying to lose it...
i want it
i want you
i want a coin operated boy.
and if i had a star to wish on
for my life i can't imagine
any flesh and blood could be his match
i can even take him in the bath
coin operated boy
he may not be real experienced with girls
but i know he feels like a boy should feel
isnt that the point- that is why i want a
coin operated boy
with his pretty coin operated voice
saying that he loves me, that he's thinking of me
straight and to the point
that is why i want
a coin operated boy.
- The Dresden Dolls, "Coin Operated Boy"
This song makes me want to cry, the way Gavroche's death in Les Mis makes me want to cry. Ache-y like, you know?
sitting on the shelf- he is just a toy
but i turn him on, and he comes to life
automatic joy
that is why i want a coin operated boy
made of plastic and elastic
he is rugged and long-lasting
who could ever ever ask for more-
love without complications galore
many shapes and weights to choose from
i will never leave my bedroom
i will never cry at night again
wrap my arms around him and pretend....
coin operated boy
all the other real ones that i destroy
cannot hold a candle to my new boy, and i'll
never let him go and i'll never be alone
not with my coin operated boy......
this bridge was written to make you feel smittener
with my sad picture of girl getting bitterer
can you extract me from my plastic fantasy
i didn't think so but i'm still convinceable
will you persist even after i bet you
a billion dollars that i'll never love you
will you persist even after i kiss you
goodbye for the last time
will you keep on trying to prove it?
i'm dying to lose it...
i want it
i want you
i want a coin operated boy.
and if i had a star to wish on
for my life i can't imagine
any flesh and blood could be his match
i can even take him in the bath
coin operated boy
he may not be real experienced with girls
but i know he feels like a boy should feel
isnt that the point- that is why i want a
coin operated boy
with his pretty coin operated voice
saying that he loves me, that he's thinking of me
straight and to the point
that is why i want
a coin operated boy.
- The Dresden Dolls, "Coin Operated Boy"
This song makes me want to cry, the way Gavroche's death in Les Mis makes me want to cry. Ache-y like, you know?
Sunday, February 13, 2005
STUPID FIC REPOST WITH EDITS
Oh, fnk.
*sigh* All that bloody work, and I miss the challenge deadline by, like, three minutes.
*wanders off to wallow in misery* *kicks stupid fic*
Buggeritall. I'm going to bed. Here's the newer, (hopefully) better version.
--------------------------------
Sasuke was not a morning person. Very few people actually knew this, because his "I'm grouchy because I hate mornings" expression was nearly identical to his "I'm grouchy because I hate everything" expression. While he could function before ten (with the help of an alarm clock), he preferred not to.
Kakashi, the bastard, was a morning person, and kept letting him sleep in while coming with new and more outrageous excuses for turning off Sasuke's alarm every morning. The first time he'd done it, the morning after Sasuke moved in, he'd tried feeding his student breakfast in bed. The sight of Kakashi holding a tray stacked with his favorite foods and radiating parental concern had prompted Sasuke to level his best Withering Glare at the older man. Kakashi, despite not being at true master of the Sharingan, was immune to Withering Glares. So Sasuke bit him, knowing he could claim temporary insanity as a result of that whole Orochimaru debacle if anyone asked. (Had he not been so irritable over being put under house arrest, he would have contemplated biting Kakashi in a completely different context- one involving fewer clothes.)
Kakashi, after making sure Sasuke wasn't afflicted with rabies, decided his charge could feed himself.
However, when he found out that Sasuke's idea of breakfast involved either cold leftover takeout or bread and jam, he'd been almost comically horrified. (It wasn't that Sasuke didn't cook, it was just that he never trusted himself with anything more complicated than a microwave that early in the morning. Toasters were out of the question after the incident with the curtains when he was ten.) After that, Sasuke would wake up late to an empty apartment, but there would always be a stack of neatly compartmentalized containers in the fridge full of rice or fish or eggs, accompanied by precise, detailed instructions on properly reheating them if necessary.
He wasn't sure where Kakashi went during the day (technically he was supposed to be watching Sasuke), but if he tried to set foot outside the door to look for his errant teacher, three squads of Anbu would descend upon him and politely ask him to go back inside. He practiced glaring at them from the doorway, finding the challenge presented by the masks quite refreshing. It was fun until Kakashi mentioned something about irritable Anbu and fire seals on the doors and windows, and wasn't that hair gel Sasuke used highly flammable? Then he'd patted Sasuke on the head affectionately (earning a Glare of Spontaneous Combustion, which was ignored) and asked what Sasuke wanted in his bento the next day.
Sasuke had taken to wandering aimlessly around the apartment during the day, wondering when Kakashi had become his mother. This would remind him of his family and the fact that his brother was still alive; he would then spend the next few hours punching a practice dummy in the corner of the kitchen until his knuckles bled. When he couldn't curl his fingers anymore, Kakashi always came home and made disapproving noises at him. Sasuke would reply with his Incredibly Scornful Glare, the one he used when the situation was clearly the fault of the other person's stupidity, but Kakashi was both immune and oblivious. He was forced to let Kakashi bandage his hands, feed him, and put him to bed. His own bed, where he would listen to his teacher moving around the apartment until the soft, familiar sounds lulled him to sleep.
Then he would wake up late, and it would start all over again.
It was infuriating. Sasuke almost wanted to storm into Tsunade's office and glare at her until she put him under house arrest in someone else's house. Naruto at least would have woken him up every morning, and would never in a thousand years even think about cooking him breakfast. And if he did, Sasuke would have felt perfectly justified in refusing it, because really, who ate ramen for breakfast? (He had, on occasion, when he'd forgotten to go grocery shopping, but he was still clearly superior to that dead-last idiot.)
Naruto wouldn't give him wounded, one-eyed looks that settled uncomfortable balls of warmth in the pit of his stomach for refusing to eat. Naruto wouldn't wander around the apartment in nothing but a towel, wet from the shower- or rather, Sasuke wouldn't have cared. And Naruto wouldn't be oblivious to the combination of Sasuke's Sexually Frustrated Glare and Broodingly Sexy Pout.
Having to put up with a certifiably insane and completely clueless Kakashi every day was more than enough to make him regret defecting. This, he reflected, had probably been Tsunade's intent. He had to respect the woman's genius, but he was going to start gnawing on things if something didn't change. Sharp things.
Sunday morning was the last straw. He'd woken up as early as possible, which wasn't especially early at all. Kakashi was, of course, already awake and puttering around the kitchen. Sasuke wandered into the kitchen and blinked sleepily at the bright summer sunlight pouring through the windows. He wasn't often awake to see the sun at that angle.
He stopped in the doorway, looking a little lost in Kakashi's cast off shirt and pants. (He had clothes of his own, but not many, and nothing really appropriate for sleeping in; it would have been rude to reject Kakashi's gift of extra clothing, anyway. If he spent a few extra moments at night burying his nose in the extra folds of the shirt, imagining he could still smell Kakashi in them, well, what no one knew couldn't hurt them.)
Kakashi was at the stove. Sasuke's nose twitched, and his eyes sharpened, suddenly deadly, as the rest of the scene before him registered to his sleep-addled brain. He tried to glare at Kakashi's back, but the horrific stench in the air made his eyes water, effectively aborting the attack. He wavered between rage and horror and finally arrived somewhere between the two. "Tell me that's not breakfast."
Kakashi gave him a slightly amused glance over one shoulder and turned back to whatever foul smelling concoction he was stirring on the stove. He was wearing a pink apron. There were ribbons. Sasuke's left eyelid began twitching fitfully.
"Smoke bombs and acid, actually. Breakfast is in the oven, I'll let you get it in a minute."
Sasuke's eyelid relaxed slightly when he realized that the apron wasn't entirely pink- more of a splotchy, faded reddish brown. It had probably been white once, but a combination of chemical spills and bloodstains had permanently darkened it. It was a proper ninja apron, too; the ribbons were actually garrote wires and there were pockets and loops for shuriken and kunai.
"Why don't you just use the standard issue stuff?" Sasuke perched on the edge of a chair, watching. He technically knew how to make his own smoke bombs, but he'd never been particularly interested in alchemy.
"The standard issue things cost money that I'd rather spend on kunai, toilet paper, and other things I can't easily make myself. I haven't been taking any good missions lately." Kakashi carefully lifted the bubbling pot of pink liquid and poured its contents through a strainer into a glass flask.
Sasuke glared at his feet. Kakashi couldn't take missions because he had to be around to babysit. Not that it bothered him, or anything- it didn't matter that Kakashi was reduced to playing mad scientist in the kitchen to save a little cash. That hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach was because he was worried that Kakashi was going to accidentally poison him, that was all. No, really.
Kakashi stoppered the flask and scraped the contents of the sieve onto a flat metal sheet, spreading it evenly and placing the whole thing on top of the burner to dry. He stepped away from the oven to the sink, and began scrubbing at his hands. "Help yourself to breakfast." He tapped the oven door with a foot, and Sasuke absolutely did not stare at the suddenly mesmerizing lines of his teacher's calf.
Instead he shambled to the oven and looked inside. His eyelid began twitching again. There were pancakes, neatly stacked and looking cheerfully fresh, despite the fact that they'd probably been in the oven keeping warm for a while. Something in his brain disconnected with a snap, and he slammed the oven shut.
Kakashi looked up, mildly alarmed. "Sasuke-kun...?" His student's eyes were swirling sharingan-red.
"Shut up." Sasuke ignored the sudeden sharp pain on his neck and darted forward, slamming his teacher against the edge of the sink. Kakashi's spine impacted the counter with an uncomfortable noise, giving Sasuke the opportonity to grab the jounin by the hair, rip off the mask, and shove his tongue down the older man's throat.
The part of his mind that hadn't snapped was screaming incoherently. He ignored it and did his best to lick Kakashi's tonsils before Kakshi put a stop to it- and, probably, a stop to Sasuke's higher brain functions with a chidori to the head. At least he'd die somewhat less unhappy than he'd been before. Sort of.
He finally broke the kiss, gasping for air. "I'm not a kid anymore," he hissed against Kakashi's lips. "Stop trying to be my mother." He pressed forward for another kiss, but Kakashi very gently and very firmly pushed him back.
Sasuke stumbled against the table, still panting. "I'm sure you'll make someone a very pretty wife someday, Kakashi-sensei," he spat, burning with rejection. The half-warning glance Kakashi gave him silenced him immediately, and he dropped his gaze to his feet in sudden, irrevocable shame. Kakashi didn't even look surprised, the bastard. He waited, shaking, for the lecture, the chidori, the perverted but disparaging remarks- anything.
Kakashi very slowly removed the apron, folded it neatly, and put it away. Then he turned off the oven and the stove, moving carefully, deliberately. "Sasuke." He was suddenly standing very close, and Sasuke trembled like a leaf. "Look at me, Sasuke."
He squeezed his eyes shut instead, and felt tears at the corners. Kakashi's hand was warm on his face, tilting his chin up. His lips were even warmer and Sasuke made a noise halfway between a gasp and a moan as Kakashi explored his mouth very thoroughly with an amazingly agile tongue. The rest of his brain finally gave up and shorted out as Kakashi's weight pressed him backwards across the kitchen table. Sasuke wrapped his legs around Kakashi's waist and continued making desperate noises into the jounin's mouth.
When Kakashi pulled away, he still looked completely cool and collected. Sasuke could only imagine how he looked, still sleep rumpled, flushed with anger and arousal, and spread out on the kitchen table like a five course meal. Kakashi's eye curved upwards in a sly smile. "Really now, Sasuke. Wife?"
"Shut up," Sasuke gasped, and pulled the older man in for another kiss, breakfast completely forgotten.
The next morning, he woke up earlier than usual, to an empty bed. He stared at the conspicuous empty space beside him and indulged himself in a long, scathing glare at the cold and empty bed. His stomach rumbled just as he was getting into it, though, ruining the effect.
He was very hungry now- he'd never actually gotten breakfast the day before. But he'd be damned if he'd let Kakashi feed him ever again- there were some things his dignity just couldn't take. He stalked into the kitchen without bothering to dress (Kakashi had put his clothes in the laundry room already, being the crazed neat freak he was), prepared to make himself a breakfast that was properly befitting of his wounded pride (and the other aching parts of his anatomy).
He stopped in the doorway, glaring. Kakashi was at the stove, wearing the apron and a set of spectacular bite marks on his shoulder- and nothing else. He smiled over his shoulder at Sasuke, almost obscenely smug. "Good morning, Sasuke-kun. Breakfast?"
Sasuke's eyelid twitched abortively. He had a thousand different angry glares in response to Kakashi's cheerful greeting, but instead he hoisted himself up onto the countertop, flinching slightly at the feel of cold formica on his bare ass, and leaned back on his hands. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in his newly developed Sex Kitten Glare, pleased to note that he'd finally found a glare that Kakashi was not immune to.
"Yes, please."
They didn't get around to breakfast until three.
*sigh* All that bloody work, and I miss the challenge deadline by, like, three minutes.
*wanders off to wallow in misery* *kicks stupid fic*
Buggeritall. I'm going to bed. Here's the newer, (hopefully) better version.
--------------------------------
Sasuke was not a morning person. Very few people actually knew this, because his "I'm grouchy because I hate mornings" expression was nearly identical to his "I'm grouchy because I hate everything" expression. While he could function before ten (with the help of an alarm clock), he preferred not to.
Kakashi, the bastard, was a morning person, and kept letting him sleep in while coming with new and more outrageous excuses for turning off Sasuke's alarm every morning. The first time he'd done it, the morning after Sasuke moved in, he'd tried feeding his student breakfast in bed. The sight of Kakashi holding a tray stacked with his favorite foods and radiating parental concern had prompted Sasuke to level his best Withering Glare at the older man. Kakashi, despite not being at true master of the Sharingan, was immune to Withering Glares. So Sasuke bit him, knowing he could claim temporary insanity as a result of that whole Orochimaru debacle if anyone asked. (Had he not been so irritable over being put under house arrest, he would have contemplated biting Kakashi in a completely different context- one involving fewer clothes.)
Kakashi, after making sure Sasuke wasn't afflicted with rabies, decided his charge could feed himself.
However, when he found out that Sasuke's idea of breakfast involved either cold leftover takeout or bread and jam, he'd been almost comically horrified. (It wasn't that Sasuke didn't cook, it was just that he never trusted himself with anything more complicated than a microwave that early in the morning. Toasters were out of the question after the incident with the curtains when he was ten.) After that, Sasuke would wake up late to an empty apartment, but there would always be a stack of neatly compartmentalized containers in the fridge full of rice or fish or eggs, accompanied by precise, detailed instructions on properly reheating them if necessary.
He wasn't sure where Kakashi went during the day (technically he was supposed to be watching Sasuke), but if he tried to set foot outside the door to look for his errant teacher, three squads of Anbu would descend upon him and politely ask him to go back inside. He practiced glaring at them from the doorway, finding the challenge presented by the masks quite refreshing. It was fun until Kakashi mentioned something about irritable Anbu and fire seals on the doors and windows, and wasn't that hair gel Sasuke used highly flammable? Then he'd patted Sasuke on the head affectionately (earning a Glare of Spontaneous Combustion, which was ignored) and asked what Sasuke wanted in his bento the next day.
Sasuke had taken to wandering aimlessly around the apartment during the day, wondering when Kakashi had become his mother. This would remind him of his family and the fact that his brother was still alive; he would then spend the next few hours punching a practice dummy in the corner of the kitchen until his knuckles bled. When he couldn't curl his fingers anymore, Kakashi always came home and made disapproving noises at him. Sasuke would reply with his Incredibly Scornful Glare, the one he used when the situation was clearly the fault of the other person's stupidity, but Kakashi was both immune and oblivious. He was forced to let Kakashi bandage his hands, feed him, and put him to bed. His own bed, where he would listen to his teacher moving around the apartment until the soft, familiar sounds lulled him to sleep.
Then he would wake up late, and it would start all over again.
It was infuriating. Sasuke almost wanted to storm into Tsunade's office and glare at her until she put him under house arrest in someone else's house. Naruto at least would have woken him up every morning, and would never in a thousand years even think about cooking him breakfast. And if he did, Sasuke would have felt perfectly justified in refusing it, because really, who ate ramen for breakfast? (He had, on occasion, when he'd forgotten to go grocery shopping, but he was still clearly superior to that dead-last idiot.)
Naruto wouldn't give him wounded, one-eyed looks that settled uncomfortable balls of warmth in the pit of his stomach for refusing to eat. Naruto wouldn't wander around the apartment in nothing but a towel, wet from the shower- or rather, Sasuke wouldn't have cared. And Naruto wouldn't be oblivious to the combination of Sasuke's Sexually Frustrated Glare and Broodingly Sexy Pout.
Having to put up with a certifiably insane and completely clueless Kakashi every day was more than enough to make him regret defecting. This, he reflected, had probably been Tsunade's intent. He had to respect the woman's genius, but he was going to start gnawing on things if something didn't change. Sharp things.
Sunday morning was the last straw. He'd woken up as early as possible, which wasn't especially early at all. Kakashi was, of course, already awake and puttering around the kitchen. Sasuke wandered into the kitchen and blinked sleepily at the bright summer sunlight pouring through the windows. He wasn't often awake to see the sun at that angle.
He stopped in the doorway, looking a little lost in Kakashi's cast off shirt and pants. (He had clothes of his own, but not many, and nothing really appropriate for sleeping in; it would have been rude to reject Kakashi's gift of extra clothing, anyway. If he spent a few extra moments at night burying his nose in the extra folds of the shirt, imagining he could still smell Kakashi in them, well, what no one knew couldn't hurt them.)
Kakashi was at the stove. Sasuke's nose twitched, and his eyes sharpened, suddenly deadly, as the rest of the scene before him registered to his sleep-addled brain. He tried to glare at Kakashi's back, but the horrific stench in the air made his eyes water, effectively aborting the attack. He wavered between rage and horror and finally arrived somewhere between the two. "Tell me that's not breakfast."
Kakashi gave him a slightly amused glance over one shoulder and turned back to whatever foul smelling concoction he was stirring on the stove. He was wearing a pink apron. There were ribbons. Sasuke's left eyelid began twitching fitfully.
"Smoke bombs and acid, actually. Breakfast is in the oven, I'll let you get it in a minute."
Sasuke's eyelid relaxed slightly when he realized that the apron wasn't entirely pink- more of a splotchy, faded reddish brown. It had probably been white once, but a combination of chemical spills and bloodstains had permanently darkened it. It was a proper ninja apron, too; the ribbons were actually garrote wires and there were pockets and loops for shuriken and kunai.
"Why don't you just use the standard issue stuff?" Sasuke perched on the edge of a chair, watching. He technically knew how to make his own smoke bombs, but he'd never been particularly interested in alchemy.
"The standard issue things cost money that I'd rather spend on kunai, toilet paper, and other things I can't easily make myself. I haven't been taking any good missions lately." Kakashi carefully lifted the bubbling pot of pink liquid and poured its contents through a strainer into a glass flask.
Sasuke glared at his feet. Kakashi couldn't take missions because he had to be around to babysit. Not that it bothered him, or anything- it didn't matter that Kakashi was reduced to playing mad scientist in the kitchen to save a little cash. That hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach was because he was worried that Kakashi was going to accidentally poison him, that was all. No, really.
Kakashi stoppered the flask and scraped the contents of the sieve onto a flat metal sheet, spreading it evenly and placing the whole thing on top of the burner to dry. He stepped away from the oven to the sink, and began scrubbing at his hands. "Help yourself to breakfast." He tapped the oven door with a foot, and Sasuke absolutely did not stare at the suddenly mesmerizing lines of his teacher's calf.
Instead he shambled to the oven and looked inside. His eyelid began twitching again. There were pancakes, neatly stacked and looking cheerfully fresh, despite the fact that they'd probably been in the oven keeping warm for a while. Something in his brain disconnected with a snap, and he slammed the oven shut.
Kakashi looked up, mildly alarmed. "Sasuke-kun...?" His student's eyes were swirling sharingan-red.
"Shut up." Sasuke ignored the sudeden sharp pain on his neck and darted forward, slamming his teacher against the edge of the sink. Kakashi's spine impacted the counter with an uncomfortable noise, giving Sasuke the opportonity to grab the jounin by the hair, rip off the mask, and shove his tongue down the older man's throat.
The part of his mind that hadn't snapped was screaming incoherently. He ignored it and did his best to lick Kakashi's tonsils before Kakshi put a stop to it- and, probably, a stop to Sasuke's higher brain functions with a chidori to the head. At least he'd die somewhat less unhappy than he'd been before. Sort of.
He finally broke the kiss, gasping for air. "I'm not a kid anymore," he hissed against Kakashi's lips. "Stop trying to be my mother." He pressed forward for another kiss, but Kakashi very gently and very firmly pushed him back.
Sasuke stumbled against the table, still panting. "I'm sure you'll make someone a very pretty wife someday, Kakashi-sensei," he spat, burning with rejection. The half-warning glance Kakashi gave him silenced him immediately, and he dropped his gaze to his feet in sudden, irrevocable shame. Kakashi didn't even look surprised, the bastard. He waited, shaking, for the lecture, the chidori, the perverted but disparaging remarks- anything.
Kakashi very slowly removed the apron, folded it neatly, and put it away. Then he turned off the oven and the stove, moving carefully, deliberately. "Sasuke." He was suddenly standing very close, and Sasuke trembled like a leaf. "Look at me, Sasuke."
He squeezed his eyes shut instead, and felt tears at the corners. Kakashi's hand was warm on his face, tilting his chin up. His lips were even warmer and Sasuke made a noise halfway between a gasp and a moan as Kakashi explored his mouth very thoroughly with an amazingly agile tongue. The rest of his brain finally gave up and shorted out as Kakashi's weight pressed him backwards across the kitchen table. Sasuke wrapped his legs around Kakashi's waist and continued making desperate noises into the jounin's mouth.
When Kakashi pulled away, he still looked completely cool and collected. Sasuke could only imagine how he looked, still sleep rumpled, flushed with anger and arousal, and spread out on the kitchen table like a five course meal. Kakashi's eye curved upwards in a sly smile. "Really now, Sasuke. Wife?"
"Shut up," Sasuke gasped, and pulled the older man in for another kiss, breakfast completely forgotten.
The next morning, he woke up earlier than usual, to an empty bed. He stared at the conspicuous empty space beside him and indulged himself in a long, scathing glare at the cold and empty bed. His stomach rumbled just as he was getting into it, though, ruining the effect.
He was very hungry now- he'd never actually gotten breakfast the day before. But he'd be damned if he'd let Kakashi feed him ever again- there were some things his dignity just couldn't take. He stalked into the kitchen without bothering to dress (Kakashi had put his clothes in the laundry room already, being the crazed neat freak he was), prepared to make himself a breakfast that was properly befitting of his wounded pride (and the other aching parts of his anatomy).
He stopped in the doorway, glaring. Kakashi was at the stove, wearing the apron and a set of spectacular bite marks on his shoulder- and nothing else. He smiled over his shoulder at Sasuke, almost obscenely smug. "Good morning, Sasuke-kun. Breakfast?"
Sasuke's eyelid twitched abortively. He had a thousand different angry glares in response to Kakashi's cheerful greeting, but instead he hoisted himself up onto the countertop, flinching slightly at the feel of cold formica on his bare ass, and leaned back on his hands. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in his newly developed Sex Kitten Glare, pleased to note that he'd finally found a glare that Kakashi was not immune to.
"Yes, please."
They didn't get around to breakfast until three.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Naruto: Morning People
THIS IS DRIVEL. Kakashi/Sasuke apronfic. OOC in the worst possible way and not edited nearly enough, but at least it sort of runs from start to finish. I think I need to cut out about half of it and make the transitions not suck, but that might take a while.
Naughty bits at the end and OH DEAR GOD WHY DID I WRITE THIS. *stabs self in eye like whoa*
---------------------------
Sasuke was not a morning person. Very few people actually knew this, because his "I'm grouchy because I hate mornings" expression was nearly identical to his "I'm grouchy because I hate everything" expression. He still managed to function before ten in the morning, he just preferred not to and needed the help of an alarm clock to do so.
Kakashi, the bastard, was a morning person, and kept letting him sleep in. He came up with new excuses for turning off Sasuke's alarm clock every morning, each one more outrageous and unbelievable than the last. The first time he'd done it, the morning after Sasuke moved in, he'd tried feeding his student breakfast in bed. The sight of Kakashi holding a tray stacked with his favorite foods and radiating parental concern had prompted Sasuke to bite him. Afterwards, nursing some rather interesting cuts and bruises, Kakashi cautiously agreed that Sasuke was capable of foraging for food on his own.
When he found out that Sasuke's idea of breakfast involved either cold leftover takeout or plain, dry toast, he'd been almost comically horrified. (It wasn't that Sasuke didn't cook, it was just that he never trusted himself with anything more complicated than a microwave that early in the morning.) After that, Sasuke would wake up late to an empty apartment, but there would always be a stack of neatly compartmentalized containers in the fridge full of rice or fish or eggs, accompanied by precise, detailed instructions on properly reheating them if necessary.
Sasuke had taken to wandering aimlessly around the apartment, wondering when Kakashi had become his mother. This would remind him of his family and the fact that his brother was still alive; then he would spend the next few hours punching a practice dummy in the corner of the kitchen until his knuckles bled. When he couldn't curl his fingers anymore, Kakashi would come home and make disapproving noises at him, bandage his hands, feed him, and put him to bed. His own bed, where he would listen to his teacher moving around the apartment until the soft, familiar sounds lulled him to sleep.
Then he would wake up late, and it would start all over again.
It was infuriating. Sasuke almost wanted to storm into Tsunade's office and demand that he be put under house arrest in someone else's house. Naruto at least would have woken him up every morning, and wouldn't in a thousand years even think about cooking him breakfast.
And even if he did, Sasuke would have felt perfectly justified in refusing it, because really, who ate ramen for breakfast? (He had, on occasion, when there'd been nothing else in the fridge, but he was still clearly superior to that dead-last idiot.) And Naruto wouldn't give him that wounded look out of one eye that always settled an uncomfortable ball of warmth at the pit of his stomach- sure, Kakashi was being a passive-aggressive, condescending asshole, but at least he cared. On the other hand, Naruto also wouldn't walk around his apartment dripping wet in nothing but a towel every evening- or rather, Sasuke wouldn't have cared to watch him even if he did. (Somehow, despite all this, Sasuke still had yet to get a clear glimpse at his teacher's face.)
Having to put up with a certifiably insane and completely oblivious Kakashi every day was more than enough to make him regret defecting. His internal clock was drifting so far out of whack he barely knew what day it was anymore, and the monotony was starting to make him gnaw on things. Sharp things.
Sunday morning was the last straw. He knew Kakashi slept a little later on Sundays, and he took advantage of this fact by setting his internal clock as best he could to wake him up as early as possible. Kakashi was, of course, already awake and puttering around the kitchen. Sasuke wandered into the kitchen and blinked sleepily at the bright summer sunlight pouring through the windows. He wasn't often awake to see the sun at this angle.
He stopped in the doorway, looking a little lost in Kakashi's cast off shirt and pants. (He had clothes of his own, but not many, and nothing really appropriate for sleeping in; it would have been rude to reject Kakashi's gift of extra clothing, anyway. If he spent a few extra moments at night burying his nose in the extra folds of the shirt, imagining he could still smell Kakashi in them, well, what no one knew couldn't hurt them.)
Kakashi was at the stove. Sasuke's nose twitched, and his eyes sharpened, suddenly deadly, as the rest of the scene before him registered to his sleep-addled brain. "Were there home-making classes at the Academy, or have you always been an anal retentive fruitcake?" he snapped, trying to choose between rage and horror and arriving somewhere between the two. "Tell me that's not breakfast."
Kakashi gave him a slightly amused glance over one shoulder and turned back to whatever foul smelling concoction he was stirring on the stove. He was wearing a pink apron. There were ribbons. Sasuke's eyelid began twitching.
"Smoke bombs and acid, actually. Breakfast is in the oven, I'll let you get it in a minute."
Sasuke's eyelid relaxed when he realized that the apron wasn't entirely pink- more of a splotchy, faded reddish brown. It had probably been white once, but a combination of chemical spills and bloodstains had permanently darkened it. It was a proper ninja apron, too; the ribbons were actually garrote wires and there were pockets and loops for shuriken and kunai.
"Why don't you just use the standard issue stuff?" Sasuke perched on the edge of a chair, watching. He technically knew how to make his own smoke bombs, but he'd never been particularly interested in alchemy.
"The standard issue things cost money that I'd rather spend on kunai, toilet paper, and other things I can't easily make myself. I'm a little strapped for cash right now; haven't been taking any good missions lately." Kakashi carefully lifted the bubbling pot of pink liquid and poured its contents through a strainer into a glass flask.
Sasuke stared at his bare toes, feeling a slow blush crawl across his face. Kakashi couldn't take proper missions because he had to play babysitter to his former student. Of course, it wasn't his fault Tsunade didn't trust him enough to let him live on his own- well, maybe it was, a little bit. But there was no reason he should feel guilty just because Kakashi was reduced to playing mad scientist in the kitchen to save a little cash. No reason at all. Really, he was just worried that Kakashi was going to poison him accidentally.
Kakashi stoppered the flask and scraped the contents of the sieve onto a flat metal sheet, spreading it evenly and placing the whole thing on top of the burner to dry. He stepped away from the oven to the sink, and began scrubbing at his hands. "Help yourself to breakfast." He tapped the oven door with a foot, and Sasuke absolutely did not stare at the suddenly mesmerizing lines of his teacher's calf.
Instead he shambled to the oven and looked inside. His eyelid began twitching again. There were pancakes, neatly stacked and looking cheerfully fresh, despite the fact that they'd probably been in the oven keeping warm for a while. Something in his brain disconnected with a snap, and he slammed the oven shut.
Kakashi looked up, mildly alarmed. "Sasuke-kun...?" His student's eyes were swirling sharingan-red.
"Shut up." Sasuke ignored the sudeden sharp pain on his neck and darted forward, slamming his teacher against the edge of the sink. Kakashi's spine impacted the counter with an uncomfortable noise, giving Sasuke the opportonity to grab the jounin by the hair, rip off the mask, and shove his tongue down the older man's throat.
The part of his mind that hadn't snapped was screaming incoherently. He ignored it and did his best to lick Kakashi's tonsils before Kakshi put a stop to it- and, probably, a stop to Sasuke's higher brain functions with a chidori to the head. At least he'd die somewhat less unhappy than he'd been before.
He finally broke the kiss, gasping for air. "I'm not a kid anymore," he hissed against Kakashi's lips. "Stop trying to be my fucking mother." He pressed forward for another kiss, but Kakashi very gently and very firmly pushed him back.
Sasuke stumbled against the table, still panting. "I'm sure you'll make someone a very pretty wife someday, Kakashi-sensei," he spat, burning with rejection. The half-warning glance Kakashi gave him silenced him immediately, and he dropped his gaze to his feet in sudden, irrevocable shame. Kakashi didn't even look surprised, the bastard. He waited, shaking, for the lecture, the chidori, the perverted but disparaging remarks- anything.
Kakashi very slowly removed the apron, folded it neatly, and put it away. Then he turned off the oven and the stove, moving carefully, deliberately. "Sasuke." He was suddenly standing very close, and Sasuke trembled like a leaf. "Look at me, Sasuke."
He squeezed his eyes shut instead, and felt tears at the corners. Kakashi's hand was warm on his face, tilting his chin up. His lips were even warmer and Sasuke made a noise halfway between a gasp and a moan as Kakashi explored his mouth very thoroughly with an amazingly agile tongue. The rest of his brain finally gave up and shorted out as Kakashi's weight pressed him backwards across the kitchen table. Sasuke wrapped his legs around Kakashi's waist and continued making desperate noises into the jounin's mouth.
When Kakashi pulled away, he still looked completely cool and collected. Sasuke could only imagine how he looked, still sleep rumpled, flushed with anger and arousal, and spread out on the kitchen table like a five course meal. Kakashi's eye curved upwards in a smug smile. "Really now, Sasuke. Wife?"
"Shut the fuck up," Sasuke gasped, and pulled the older man in for another kiss, breakfast completely forgotten.
The next morning, he woke up earlier than usual to the rumbling of his empty stomach. He never had gotten breakfast the day before. He stared at the conspicuous empty space beside him and indulged himself in a long, creative string of profanity, including Kakashi, Kakashi's family tree, six different kinds of livestock, and twelve anatomically impossible suggestions.
He tried to find his clothes, but Kakashi, being the bizarre, perverted neat freak that he was, had picked them up and put them somewhere. He would have to do without temporarily; the gaping void in his stomach needed filling first. He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror on his way to the kitchen; the angry red marks that liberally speckled his upper body sent a warm, fuzzy feeling to the pit of his stomach, but further hunger pains drove them away.
Kakashi was already in the kitchen, at the stove. Sasuke stopped in the doorway to glare. The older man was wearing the fucking apron again- along with a set of spectacular bite marks on his shoulder- and nothing else. He smiled over his shoulder at Sasuke, one eye curving into an unreadable smile. Sasuke stared at his mouth, and felt warm all over again. "Good morning, Sasuke-kun. Breakfast?" Kakashi gestured with a spatula.
Sasuke's eyelid twitched abortively. He had a thousand different stinging retorts to his teacher's nonchalant idiocy, but instead he hoisted himself up onto the countertop, flinching slightly at the feel of cold formica on his bare ass, and leaned back on his hands. He tilted his head back slowly and smiled.
"Yes, please."
--------------------
AARRGHFDSLDA;SDLKJF. *weeps* Oh, black, black shame. Sasuke, you little hor.
Naughty bits at the end and OH DEAR GOD WHY DID I WRITE THIS. *stabs self in eye like whoa*
---------------------------
Sasuke was not a morning person. Very few people actually knew this, because his "I'm grouchy because I hate mornings" expression was nearly identical to his "I'm grouchy because I hate everything" expression. He still managed to function before ten in the morning, he just preferred not to and needed the help of an alarm clock to do so.
Kakashi, the bastard, was a morning person, and kept letting him sleep in. He came up with new excuses for turning off Sasuke's alarm clock every morning, each one more outrageous and unbelievable than the last. The first time he'd done it, the morning after Sasuke moved in, he'd tried feeding his student breakfast in bed. The sight of Kakashi holding a tray stacked with his favorite foods and radiating parental concern had prompted Sasuke to bite him. Afterwards, nursing some rather interesting cuts and bruises, Kakashi cautiously agreed that Sasuke was capable of foraging for food on his own.
When he found out that Sasuke's idea of breakfast involved either cold leftover takeout or plain, dry toast, he'd been almost comically horrified. (It wasn't that Sasuke didn't cook, it was just that he never trusted himself with anything more complicated than a microwave that early in the morning.) After that, Sasuke would wake up late to an empty apartment, but there would always be a stack of neatly compartmentalized containers in the fridge full of rice or fish or eggs, accompanied by precise, detailed instructions on properly reheating them if necessary.
Sasuke had taken to wandering aimlessly around the apartment, wondering when Kakashi had become his mother. This would remind him of his family and the fact that his brother was still alive; then he would spend the next few hours punching a practice dummy in the corner of the kitchen until his knuckles bled. When he couldn't curl his fingers anymore, Kakashi would come home and make disapproving noises at him, bandage his hands, feed him, and put him to bed. His own bed, where he would listen to his teacher moving around the apartment until the soft, familiar sounds lulled him to sleep.
Then he would wake up late, and it would start all over again.
It was infuriating. Sasuke almost wanted to storm into Tsunade's office and demand that he be put under house arrest in someone else's house. Naruto at least would have woken him up every morning, and wouldn't in a thousand years even think about cooking him breakfast.
And even if he did, Sasuke would have felt perfectly justified in refusing it, because really, who ate ramen for breakfast? (He had, on occasion, when there'd been nothing else in the fridge, but he was still clearly superior to that dead-last idiot.) And Naruto wouldn't give him that wounded look out of one eye that always settled an uncomfortable ball of warmth at the pit of his stomach- sure, Kakashi was being a passive-aggressive, condescending asshole, but at least he cared. On the other hand, Naruto also wouldn't walk around his apartment dripping wet in nothing but a towel every evening- or rather, Sasuke wouldn't have cared to watch him even if he did. (Somehow, despite all this, Sasuke still had yet to get a clear glimpse at his teacher's face.)
Having to put up with a certifiably insane and completely oblivious Kakashi every day was more than enough to make him regret defecting. His internal clock was drifting so far out of whack he barely knew what day it was anymore, and the monotony was starting to make him gnaw on things. Sharp things.
Sunday morning was the last straw. He knew Kakashi slept a little later on Sundays, and he took advantage of this fact by setting his internal clock as best he could to wake him up as early as possible. Kakashi was, of course, already awake and puttering around the kitchen. Sasuke wandered into the kitchen and blinked sleepily at the bright summer sunlight pouring through the windows. He wasn't often awake to see the sun at this angle.
He stopped in the doorway, looking a little lost in Kakashi's cast off shirt and pants. (He had clothes of his own, but not many, and nothing really appropriate for sleeping in; it would have been rude to reject Kakashi's gift of extra clothing, anyway. If he spent a few extra moments at night burying his nose in the extra folds of the shirt, imagining he could still smell Kakashi in them, well, what no one knew couldn't hurt them.)
Kakashi was at the stove. Sasuke's nose twitched, and his eyes sharpened, suddenly deadly, as the rest of the scene before him registered to his sleep-addled brain. "Were there home-making classes at the Academy, or have you always been an anal retentive fruitcake?" he snapped, trying to choose between rage and horror and arriving somewhere between the two. "Tell me that's not breakfast."
Kakashi gave him a slightly amused glance over one shoulder and turned back to whatever foul smelling concoction he was stirring on the stove. He was wearing a pink apron. There were ribbons. Sasuke's eyelid began twitching.
"Smoke bombs and acid, actually. Breakfast is in the oven, I'll let you get it in a minute."
Sasuke's eyelid relaxed when he realized that the apron wasn't entirely pink- more of a splotchy, faded reddish brown. It had probably been white once, but a combination of chemical spills and bloodstains had permanently darkened it. It was a proper ninja apron, too; the ribbons were actually garrote wires and there were pockets and loops for shuriken and kunai.
"Why don't you just use the standard issue stuff?" Sasuke perched on the edge of a chair, watching. He technically knew how to make his own smoke bombs, but he'd never been particularly interested in alchemy.
"The standard issue things cost money that I'd rather spend on kunai, toilet paper, and other things I can't easily make myself. I'm a little strapped for cash right now; haven't been taking any good missions lately." Kakashi carefully lifted the bubbling pot of pink liquid and poured its contents through a strainer into a glass flask.
Sasuke stared at his bare toes, feeling a slow blush crawl across his face. Kakashi couldn't take proper missions because he had to play babysitter to his former student. Of course, it wasn't his fault Tsunade didn't trust him enough to let him live on his own- well, maybe it was, a little bit. But there was no reason he should feel guilty just because Kakashi was reduced to playing mad scientist in the kitchen to save a little cash. No reason at all. Really, he was just worried that Kakashi was going to poison him accidentally.
Kakashi stoppered the flask and scraped the contents of the sieve onto a flat metal sheet, spreading it evenly and placing the whole thing on top of the burner to dry. He stepped away from the oven to the sink, and began scrubbing at his hands. "Help yourself to breakfast." He tapped the oven door with a foot, and Sasuke absolutely did not stare at the suddenly mesmerizing lines of his teacher's calf.
Instead he shambled to the oven and looked inside. His eyelid began twitching again. There were pancakes, neatly stacked and looking cheerfully fresh, despite the fact that they'd probably been in the oven keeping warm for a while. Something in his brain disconnected with a snap, and he slammed the oven shut.
Kakashi looked up, mildly alarmed. "Sasuke-kun...?" His student's eyes were swirling sharingan-red.
"Shut up." Sasuke ignored the sudeden sharp pain on his neck and darted forward, slamming his teacher against the edge of the sink. Kakashi's spine impacted the counter with an uncomfortable noise, giving Sasuke the opportonity to grab the jounin by the hair, rip off the mask, and shove his tongue down the older man's throat.
The part of his mind that hadn't snapped was screaming incoherently. He ignored it and did his best to lick Kakashi's tonsils before Kakshi put a stop to it- and, probably, a stop to Sasuke's higher brain functions with a chidori to the head. At least he'd die somewhat less unhappy than he'd been before.
He finally broke the kiss, gasping for air. "I'm not a kid anymore," he hissed against Kakashi's lips. "Stop trying to be my fucking mother." He pressed forward for another kiss, but Kakashi very gently and very firmly pushed him back.
Sasuke stumbled against the table, still panting. "I'm sure you'll make someone a very pretty wife someday, Kakashi-sensei," he spat, burning with rejection. The half-warning glance Kakashi gave him silenced him immediately, and he dropped his gaze to his feet in sudden, irrevocable shame. Kakashi didn't even look surprised, the bastard. He waited, shaking, for the lecture, the chidori, the perverted but disparaging remarks- anything.
Kakashi very slowly removed the apron, folded it neatly, and put it away. Then he turned off the oven and the stove, moving carefully, deliberately. "Sasuke." He was suddenly standing very close, and Sasuke trembled like a leaf. "Look at me, Sasuke."
He squeezed his eyes shut instead, and felt tears at the corners. Kakashi's hand was warm on his face, tilting his chin up. His lips were even warmer and Sasuke made a noise halfway between a gasp and a moan as Kakashi explored his mouth very thoroughly with an amazingly agile tongue. The rest of his brain finally gave up and shorted out as Kakashi's weight pressed him backwards across the kitchen table. Sasuke wrapped his legs around Kakashi's waist and continued making desperate noises into the jounin's mouth.
When Kakashi pulled away, he still looked completely cool and collected. Sasuke could only imagine how he looked, still sleep rumpled, flushed with anger and arousal, and spread out on the kitchen table like a five course meal. Kakashi's eye curved upwards in a smug smile. "Really now, Sasuke. Wife?"
"Shut the fuck up," Sasuke gasped, and pulled the older man in for another kiss, breakfast completely forgotten.
The next morning, he woke up earlier than usual to the rumbling of his empty stomach. He never had gotten breakfast the day before. He stared at the conspicuous empty space beside him and indulged himself in a long, creative string of profanity, including Kakashi, Kakashi's family tree, six different kinds of livestock, and twelve anatomically impossible suggestions.
He tried to find his clothes, but Kakashi, being the bizarre, perverted neat freak that he was, had picked them up and put them somewhere. He would have to do without temporarily; the gaping void in his stomach needed filling first. He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror on his way to the kitchen; the angry red marks that liberally speckled his upper body sent a warm, fuzzy feeling to the pit of his stomach, but further hunger pains drove them away.
Kakashi was already in the kitchen, at the stove. Sasuke stopped in the doorway to glare. The older man was wearing the fucking apron again- along with a set of spectacular bite marks on his shoulder- and nothing else. He smiled over his shoulder at Sasuke, one eye curving into an unreadable smile. Sasuke stared at his mouth, and felt warm all over again. "Good morning, Sasuke-kun. Breakfast?" Kakashi gestured with a spatula.
Sasuke's eyelid twitched abortively. He had a thousand different stinging retorts to his teacher's nonchalant idiocy, but instead he hoisted himself up onto the countertop, flinching slightly at the feel of cold formica on his bare ass, and leaned back on his hands. He tilted his head back slowly and smiled.
"Yes, please."
--------------------
AARRGHFDSLDA;SDLKJF. *weeps* Oh, black, black shame. Sasuke, you little hor.
Blindsided excerpt- chapter 8ish
In which Iruka and Kakashi act like teenaged girls, sort of. Small amounts of naughtiness mentioned; discussion of Genma's oral fixation, and Kakashi being a perverted slut. Angst. Male bonding, sort of. Mentioning of plot points that will make sense to no one but me (Recap: Iruka's joined the Anbu, Naruto's defected to Sand, Sasuke's gone batshit.) Where do baby ninja come from, anyway, if all the men are afraid of the women?
---------
They sat on the roof in companionable silence, a six pack and an ashtray between them. Iruka swung his bare feet against the wall, hunched over his beer like a gargoyle. Kakashi let one hand dangle off the roof like a cry for help, flat on his back with an arm flung across his eyes, spitting smoke at the stars.
"Why'd you quit the Anbu, anyway?" Iruka finally broke the silence, scratching irritably at the angry red tatoo on his shoulder. It still itched sometimes, when it got cloudy at night and he felt too restless to sleep and too lazy to train. He glanced at the man beside him through untrimmed bangs; from this angle, he could almost see Kakashi's chin.
"Nine years of it, and I was still alive. Then Uchiha Itachi became my squad leader. I decided I liked being alive more." Kakashi's answer was matter-of-fact, unconcerned. Iruka didn't believe a word of it.
"That would do it, I guess."
"Yeah." Kakashi took a drag off his cigarette when Iruka looked away. "Why'd you join?"
Iruka took a long swallow from his half empty beer can, wishing vaguely for something stronger. "Got tired of seeing my students coming back dead. Figured it was better me than them." He was only marginally more believeable. "You?"
"No one to miss me if I died."
"Shitty way to live."
"Yeah. Easier than trying to care, though."
The moonlight and the alcohol made Iruka feel a little giddy. He stretched backwards, flat against the surface of the roof. "Maa, Kakashi-sensei?"
"Hn?"
"Truth or dare?" He watched the jounin reach behind his head to stub out the cigarette and grab a beer.
Kakashi popped the tab one handed, and examined the label in the moonlight. "A little old for grade-school games, aren't we?"
Iruka snorted. "You tell me."
"Truth, then."
It was a gift, and he knew it. They were barely acquaintences, barely knew more than the other's name, but he'd been given a gift anyway. Iruka closed his eyes to savor it, laughing softly. "You're just too lazy to get up and do anything."
"You know me too well." The other jounin's rebuke was soft and good natured.
"Mmm...well then, what can I use for future blackmail material?"
Kakashi's shoulders shook in silent mirth. "Good luck with that. I lead an exceptionally boring life."
"Oh, I don't doubt it." He felt silly and childish, too young for the space inside his skull. "So, tell me, Sharingan Kakashi...if you could shag anyone on the faculty, who would you do? Or," he grinned mirthlessly up at the sky. "Who have you done?"
Kakashi lit another cigarette pensively. "I've given up on sleeping with shinobi. Too fucked in the head, all of them. So, who have I done..." He tilted his head back to stare at Iruka through his hair. The corner of his eye turned upwards. "Asuma."
Iruka nearly dropped his beer. "You're kidding."
Kakashi's eye disappeared in his smile. "Nope. It was one of Ebisu's stupid parties. He was reeeaaaally drunk." He gestured expansively with his drink. "And I was...not so drunk. There might have been a dare involved. Maybe I was more than not-so drunk." He laughed a little breathlessly, inexplicably smug. "Couldn't walk right for a week...and Asuma still doesn't know it was me. Probably try to kill me if he found out. Kurenai'd help. I'd be doooomed."
Iruka laughed along with him, enjoying the absurdity of everything and blaming it all on the moon and too much cheap beer.
"What about you, Iruka-san? Surely there's a story under that demure facade? What daring sex-capades, wild orgies, illicit trysts in the teacher's lounge...hm?"
"You need to expand your literary horizons- at least start reading quality porn." Iruka drained the last of his beer. "And you're supposed to ask truth or dare."
"Fuck the rules, and don't mock my porn. New game- eye for an eye, stupid story for stupid story. You have to have a few."
"Ahh...nothing I have could top Asuma..."
Kakashi tilted his head again, with the same lazy, mocking grin in his eye. "Oh, but I didn't..." His voice was low and teasing, flirting.
"Stop that." Iruka threw his empty can at the jounin's head; it bounced off the impossible white hair and clattered on its way down to the street. "Oops."
"Fifty points for littering. Now spill."
Iruka leaned over on impulse and grabbed Kakashi's cigarette. The taste was bitter in his throat, but comforting in its familiar burn. "You know how Genma's always chewing on that senbon? He fights with it- spits it with better accuracy than most people can throw the things." He ignored the startled look on Kakashi's face. "He can tie cherry stems in knots with his tongue, too, and swallows bananas whole for breakfast."
Kakashi made a sound in the back of his throat, and Iruka laughed. "It was just a...a fling, you know? Genma's got a thing for younger guys; when Hayate became a jounin, he ended it with me. I think now he's just waiting for Neji to get over himself before moving on."
"Disgusting old pervert."
"Pot, kettle, black." Iruka handed back the cigarette.
Kakashi accepted it with a nod and took a deep drag. The glowing ember briefly lit up his face; Iruka almost caught a glimpse of his mouth. "I can't tie cherry stems in knots with my tongue. Clearly he's the bigger pervert."
"You're just jealous."
"Probably. Does it ever seem strange to you that most of the men around here are busy screwing around with each other, instead of the women?"
"Not really. Women are fucking scary." Kakashi laughed again, and Iruka decided that it would be a bad idea to get used to the sound of Kakashi's laughter. "They're too used to blood and self-sacrifice."
"You never wanted kids?"
He scratched compulsively at the tattoo again and opened another beer. "I had kids. Lots of them. They kept dying, or leaving. You get sick of it after a while." He glared at the back of Kakashi's head. "That was three questions. It's my turn now."
"Whatever."
They lapsed back into quiet while Iruka thought and drank, and Kakashi smoked and stared at the stars. He let the silence stretch as far as he could, and sighed suddenly, noisily.
"I have a mission. Anbu. Could you make sure Naruto remembers to write home?" He felt Kakashi go completely still. He didn't need to clarify what he meant by "home." Naruto still wore a Hidden Sand hitai-ate, and could still be seen sweeping sand off his doorstep every morning with suspicously bright eyes. "And Sasuke will need someone to train with. He still flinches if you go for his eyes, but he's doing well otherwise."
"What's in it for me if I do?" Kakashi lit another cigarette, unsuccessfully hiding the tremble in his hands.
"Maybe I'll pick you up a souvenier while I'm gone." There was no humor in either of their voices. "Maybe I'll owe you one."
"Just one?"
"Two. However many you like. Just keep an eye on them while I'm gone." He'd be gone for a long time; neither of them needed to say it.
"I'll tell Naruto you said goodbye, then." Kakashi rolled onto his side, facing Iruka. He was a silhouette against the moon, but Iruka could make out the lines of a face in the shadows.
Another gift. He closed his eyes. "Thank you."
--------------------
Blindsided- alternately titled In Which Horrible Things Happen to Sasuke, Iruka, Gaara, and Naruto by Proximity. But Mostly to Sasuke.
This might not be included in the actual story; I hate it when I write things out of order, but this scene has been stuck in my head for way too long. I need to work more on chapter one. Bleh.
---------
They sat on the roof in companionable silence, a six pack and an ashtray between them. Iruka swung his bare feet against the wall, hunched over his beer like a gargoyle. Kakashi let one hand dangle off the roof like a cry for help, flat on his back with an arm flung across his eyes, spitting smoke at the stars.
"Why'd you quit the Anbu, anyway?" Iruka finally broke the silence, scratching irritably at the angry red tatoo on his shoulder. It still itched sometimes, when it got cloudy at night and he felt too restless to sleep and too lazy to train. He glanced at the man beside him through untrimmed bangs; from this angle, he could almost see Kakashi's chin.
"Nine years of it, and I was still alive. Then Uchiha Itachi became my squad leader. I decided I liked being alive more." Kakashi's answer was matter-of-fact, unconcerned. Iruka didn't believe a word of it.
"That would do it, I guess."
"Yeah." Kakashi took a drag off his cigarette when Iruka looked away. "Why'd you join?"
Iruka took a long swallow from his half empty beer can, wishing vaguely for something stronger. "Got tired of seeing my students coming back dead. Figured it was better me than them." He was only marginally more believeable. "You?"
"No one to miss me if I died."
"Shitty way to live."
"Yeah. Easier than trying to care, though."
The moonlight and the alcohol made Iruka feel a little giddy. He stretched backwards, flat against the surface of the roof. "Maa, Kakashi-sensei?"
"Hn?"
"Truth or dare?" He watched the jounin reach behind his head to stub out the cigarette and grab a beer.
Kakashi popped the tab one handed, and examined the label in the moonlight. "A little old for grade-school games, aren't we?"
Iruka snorted. "You tell me."
"Truth, then."
It was a gift, and he knew it. They were barely acquaintences, barely knew more than the other's name, but he'd been given a gift anyway. Iruka closed his eyes to savor it, laughing softly. "You're just too lazy to get up and do anything."
"You know me too well." The other jounin's rebuke was soft and good natured.
"Mmm...well then, what can I use for future blackmail material?"
Kakashi's shoulders shook in silent mirth. "Good luck with that. I lead an exceptionally boring life."
"Oh, I don't doubt it." He felt silly and childish, too young for the space inside his skull. "So, tell me, Sharingan Kakashi...if you could shag anyone on the faculty, who would you do? Or," he grinned mirthlessly up at the sky. "Who have you done?"
Kakashi lit another cigarette pensively. "I've given up on sleeping with shinobi. Too fucked in the head, all of them. So, who have I done..." He tilted his head back to stare at Iruka through his hair. The corner of his eye turned upwards. "Asuma."
Iruka nearly dropped his beer. "You're kidding."
Kakashi's eye disappeared in his smile. "Nope. It was one of Ebisu's stupid parties. He was reeeaaaally drunk." He gestured expansively with his drink. "And I was...not so drunk. There might have been a dare involved. Maybe I was more than not-so drunk." He laughed a little breathlessly, inexplicably smug. "Couldn't walk right for a week...and Asuma still doesn't know it was me. Probably try to kill me if he found out. Kurenai'd help. I'd be doooomed."
Iruka laughed along with him, enjoying the absurdity of everything and blaming it all on the moon and too much cheap beer.
"What about you, Iruka-san? Surely there's a story under that demure facade? What daring sex-capades, wild orgies, illicit trysts in the teacher's lounge...hm?"
"You need to expand your literary horizons- at least start reading quality porn." Iruka drained the last of his beer. "And you're supposed to ask truth or dare."
"Fuck the rules, and don't mock my porn. New game- eye for an eye, stupid story for stupid story. You have to have a few."
"Ahh...nothing I have could top Asuma..."
Kakashi tilted his head again, with the same lazy, mocking grin in his eye. "Oh, but I didn't..." His voice was low and teasing, flirting.
"Stop that." Iruka threw his empty can at the jounin's head; it bounced off the impossible white hair and clattered on its way down to the street. "Oops."
"Fifty points for littering. Now spill."
Iruka leaned over on impulse and grabbed Kakashi's cigarette. The taste was bitter in his throat, but comforting in its familiar burn. "You know how Genma's always chewing on that senbon? He fights with it- spits it with better accuracy than most people can throw the things." He ignored the startled look on Kakashi's face. "He can tie cherry stems in knots with his tongue, too, and swallows bananas whole for breakfast."
Kakashi made a sound in the back of his throat, and Iruka laughed. "It was just a...a fling, you know? Genma's got a thing for younger guys; when Hayate became a jounin, he ended it with me. I think now he's just waiting for Neji to get over himself before moving on."
"Disgusting old pervert."
"Pot, kettle, black." Iruka handed back the cigarette.
Kakashi accepted it with a nod and took a deep drag. The glowing ember briefly lit up his face; Iruka almost caught a glimpse of his mouth. "I can't tie cherry stems in knots with my tongue. Clearly he's the bigger pervert."
"You're just jealous."
"Probably. Does it ever seem strange to you that most of the men around here are busy screwing around with each other, instead of the women?"
"Not really. Women are fucking scary." Kakashi laughed again, and Iruka decided that it would be a bad idea to get used to the sound of Kakashi's laughter. "They're too used to blood and self-sacrifice."
"You never wanted kids?"
He scratched compulsively at the tattoo again and opened another beer. "I had kids. Lots of them. They kept dying, or leaving. You get sick of it after a while." He glared at the back of Kakashi's head. "That was three questions. It's my turn now."
"Whatever."
They lapsed back into quiet while Iruka thought and drank, and Kakashi smoked and stared at the stars. He let the silence stretch as far as he could, and sighed suddenly, noisily.
"I have a mission. Anbu. Could you make sure Naruto remembers to write home?" He felt Kakashi go completely still. He didn't need to clarify what he meant by "home." Naruto still wore a Hidden Sand hitai-ate, and could still be seen sweeping sand off his doorstep every morning with suspicously bright eyes. "And Sasuke will need someone to train with. He still flinches if you go for his eyes, but he's doing well otherwise."
"What's in it for me if I do?" Kakashi lit another cigarette, unsuccessfully hiding the tremble in his hands.
"Maybe I'll pick you up a souvenier while I'm gone." There was no humor in either of their voices. "Maybe I'll owe you one."
"Just one?"
"Two. However many you like. Just keep an eye on them while I'm gone." He'd be gone for a long time; neither of them needed to say it.
"I'll tell Naruto you said goodbye, then." Kakashi rolled onto his side, facing Iruka. He was a silhouette against the moon, but Iruka could make out the lines of a face in the shadows.
Another gift. He closed his eyes. "Thank you."
--------------------
Blindsided- alternately titled In Which Horrible Things Happen to Sasuke, Iruka, Gaara, and Naruto by Proximity. But Mostly to Sasuke.
This might not be included in the actual story; I hate it when I write things out of order, but this scene has been stuck in my head for way too long. I need to work more on chapter one. Bleh.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Naruto fic recs
Because I'm feeling remarkably unproductive right now, I give you the fics on my current list of Awesome Fic. All Naruto, all the time; gen, het, yaoi, and other stuff of various ratings.
Dialects by luc court. The same thing, as seen by a multitude of characters. Anything and everything by this author is amazing, haunting, disturbing, and lovely stuff; tends to focus on Kakashi, the Sannin, and the Sound nin, but not necessarily all at once. (This fic in particular I love for the snippy Itachi and Kabuto not playing god.)
Foxhunt by saro. Naruto and Sasuke are mostly grown up, and someone is stalking Naruto. Only a few chapters up, but very well written- it's much better than my description makes it sound, I swear. Something about the characterizations of Naruto and Sasuke are particularly compelling.
Bell Jars by honeyblood. Sakura's personal growth from age twelve to thirty five, and the growth of her hair. Without a doubt the best Sakura fic I have ever read (granted, I haven't read many, but this is still an awesome piece of writing). Will possibly make you cry, though chances are you're made of sterner stuff than that. Sometimes we're just not cut out for the lives we choose to lead.
A Murder of One by Devosama. Kakashi/Iruka. This is my favorite Naruto fic ever- I've lost count of the number of times I've reread it, and I hardly ever reread fic. (It's the story I measure all other Kakashi/Iruka stories by, and they always come up lacking- Devosama has written a very few other Naruto fics, focused on sideline characters, and they are wonderful.) A not-love story set before the chuunin exams; it's summer, and there are ghosts everywhere. The prequel, Only Happy When It Rains is short and sweet (and by sweet I mean not at all, really, just kind of short), but not necessary for understanding its sequel.
Project Human by randomsome1. A GaaraSakuraLee love triangle. Stop looking at me like that, it's good, even if it's het and the most random pairing ever. Sakura-centric; she's growing up, and her friends and enemies (and friends who became enemies and enemies who became friends) are growing up with her. Sakura occasionally gets on my nerves, but I love Sasuke so much in this- the whole three times he shows up. Also, Gaara. What more do you need?
Shift by beeper. Unrequited Kakashi/Iruka almost-drabble. Iruka recognizes futility when he sees it. No, seriously. (The last line killed me.)
Untitled series by Paxnirvana. Didn't feel like linking to each one, so just read the lot of them- there's four up on the website, and they're reasonably short. Kakashi/Iruka and a slowly (or quickly, depending on how you look at it) growing relationship, with rationalizations and everything. These are the stories that pulled me into the Naruto fandom; Pax writes for a whole slew of other fandoms, and she does great work in all of them.
A Girl Thing by firefly. Humor. Sakura is PMSing on a mission and is in desperate need of female company. Naturally, the person she turns to is...Kakashi. (I swear I'm not really a twelve year old boy, but I really do find well written PMS!ninja stories hilarious.) Firefly has also written a bunch of excessively cute sandsib drabbly things, if that's your cup of tea.
Teamwork by Asuka Kureru. Threesome fic (foursome if you count Inner-Sakura and fivesome if you count the Kyuubi...eheh...nevermind, shutting up now). Naruto goes into heat and Team 7 gets caught in the middle of it. Sakura gets pregnant, shennanigans ensue, and I love Team 7 so hard it's ridiculous; this is one of my favorite Naruto fics, because all three of them are just so completely right together.
Abdication by darkeyedwolf. Kakashi/Sasuke. Unbearably cute in a bittersweet and utterly perfect way. Sasuke can't cook, but that doesn't stop him from trying. Darkeyedwolf has done a bunch of other Kakasasu fics, and they're all great, but this one is my favorite. (It's short, and it's absolutely beautiful, and my jaw hit the floor once I hit the third paragraph and I didn't get around to picking it back up until the end. ...Actually, the third paragraph (which is one line) is the sole reason I am reccing this particular fic, as opposed to any of the other, less sappy ones on the community.)
Damaetas by Pellaz. Dark, disturbing, depressing Sasu/Naru. Beautifully written, but it will rip out your heart and spit on it by the end. Set in the future, long after Sasuke defected to Orochimaru. Here there be angst, and such sweet, sweet angst it is.
Not Heaven by Anria. And, to make up for the Sasu/Naru angst, there is Gaara/Naruto fluff. Good fluff, though, not cotton candy fluff. Gaara and Naruto end up working together, and Gaara questions the meanings of friendship and love. I need to not sound like an afterschool special when I describe these things; this is a very sweet and well written fic, and I also need to get over my urge to hug Gaara every time I see him characterized like this. (So...adorkable...*dies*)
And that's all for now. More later, maybe.
Dialects by luc court. The same thing, as seen by a multitude of characters. Anything and everything by this author is amazing, haunting, disturbing, and lovely stuff; tends to focus on Kakashi, the Sannin, and the Sound nin, but not necessarily all at once. (This fic in particular I love for the snippy Itachi and Kabuto not playing god.)
Foxhunt by saro. Naruto and Sasuke are mostly grown up, and someone is stalking Naruto. Only a few chapters up, but very well written- it's much better than my description makes it sound, I swear. Something about the characterizations of Naruto and Sasuke are particularly compelling.
Bell Jars by honeyblood. Sakura's personal growth from age twelve to thirty five, and the growth of her hair. Without a doubt the best Sakura fic I have ever read (granted, I haven't read many, but this is still an awesome piece of writing). Will possibly make you cry, though chances are you're made of sterner stuff than that. Sometimes we're just not cut out for the lives we choose to lead.
A Murder of One by Devosama. Kakashi/Iruka. This is my favorite Naruto fic ever- I've lost count of the number of times I've reread it, and I hardly ever reread fic. (It's the story I measure all other Kakashi/Iruka stories by, and they always come up lacking- Devosama has written a very few other Naruto fics, focused on sideline characters, and they are wonderful.) A not-love story set before the chuunin exams; it's summer, and there are ghosts everywhere. The prequel, Only Happy When It Rains is short and sweet (and by sweet I mean not at all, really, just kind of short), but not necessary for understanding its sequel.
Project Human by randomsome1. A GaaraSakuraLee love triangle. Stop looking at me like that, it's good, even if it's het and the most random pairing ever. Sakura-centric; she's growing up, and her friends and enemies (and friends who became enemies and enemies who became friends) are growing up with her. Sakura occasionally gets on my nerves, but I love Sasuke so much in this- the whole three times he shows up. Also, Gaara. What more do you need?
Shift by beeper. Unrequited Kakashi/Iruka almost-drabble. Iruka recognizes futility when he sees it. No, seriously. (The last line killed me.)
Untitled series by Paxnirvana. Didn't feel like linking to each one, so just read the lot of them- there's four up on the website, and they're reasonably short. Kakashi/Iruka and a slowly (or quickly, depending on how you look at it) growing relationship, with rationalizations and everything. These are the stories that pulled me into the Naruto fandom; Pax writes for a whole slew of other fandoms, and she does great work in all of them.
A Girl Thing by firefly. Humor. Sakura is PMSing on a mission and is in desperate need of female company. Naturally, the person she turns to is...Kakashi. (I swear I'm not really a twelve year old boy, but I really do find well written PMS!ninja stories hilarious.) Firefly has also written a bunch of excessively cute sandsib drabbly things, if that's your cup of tea.
Teamwork by Asuka Kureru. Threesome fic (foursome if you count Inner-Sakura and fivesome if you count the Kyuubi...eheh...nevermind, shutting up now). Naruto goes into heat and Team 7 gets caught in the middle of it. Sakura gets pregnant, shennanigans ensue, and I love Team 7 so hard it's ridiculous; this is one of my favorite Naruto fics, because all three of them are just so completely right together.
Abdication by darkeyedwolf. Kakashi/Sasuke. Unbearably cute in a bittersweet and utterly perfect way. Sasuke can't cook, but that doesn't stop him from trying. Darkeyedwolf has done a bunch of other Kakasasu fics, and they're all great, but this one is my favorite. (It's short, and it's absolutely beautiful, and my jaw hit the floor once I hit the third paragraph and I didn't get around to picking it back up until the end. ...Actually, the third paragraph (which is one line) is the sole reason I am reccing this particular fic, as opposed to any of the other, less sappy ones on the community.)
Damaetas by Pellaz. Dark, disturbing, depressing Sasu/Naru. Beautifully written, but it will rip out your heart and spit on it by the end. Set in the future, long after Sasuke defected to Orochimaru. Here there be angst, and such sweet, sweet angst it is.
Not Heaven by Anria. And, to make up for the Sasu/Naru angst, there is Gaara/Naruto fluff. Good fluff, though, not cotton candy fluff. Gaara and Naruto end up working together, and Gaara questions the meanings of friendship and love. I need to not sound like an afterschool special when I describe these things; this is a very sweet and well written fic, and I also need to get over my urge to hug Gaara every time I see him characterized like this. (So...adorkable...*dies*)
And that's all for now. More later, maybe.
Guster, "Demon"
My words confuse you
My eyes don’t move a blink
Cause it’s easier sometimes
Not to be sincere
Somehow I make you believe
Believe
When I speak I cross my fingers
Will you know you’ve been deceived?
I find a need to be the demon
A demon cannot be hurt
Honest is easy
Fiction's where genius lies
Cause it’s easier sometimes
Not to be involved
Somehow I make you believe
Believe
When I speak I cross my fingers
Will you know you’ve been deceived?
I find a need to be the demon
A demon cannot be hurt
(repeat)
A demon cannot be hurt
-Guster, "Demon"
Verse one is Gaara's (insomnia!), verse two is Naruto's (cry when you're happy), and the refrain is Sasuke's (don't touch), though all three of them have something in this song. The V8s do an absolutely gorgeous cover of it; I actually like it much better than the original, which is sort of whiny.
My eyes don’t move a blink
Cause it’s easier sometimes
Not to be sincere
Somehow I make you believe
Believe
When I speak I cross my fingers
Will you know you’ve been deceived?
I find a need to be the demon
A demon cannot be hurt
Honest is easy
Fiction's where genius lies
Cause it’s easier sometimes
Not to be involved
Somehow I make you believe
Believe
When I speak I cross my fingers
Will you know you’ve been deceived?
I find a need to be the demon
A demon cannot be hurt
(repeat)
A demon cannot be hurt
-Guster, "Demon"
Verse one is Gaara's (insomnia!), verse two is Naruto's (cry when you're happy), and the refrain is Sasuke's (don't touch), though all three of them have something in this song. The V8s do an absolutely gorgeous cover of it; I actually like it much better than the original, which is sort of whiny.