Let Me Out!

But All He'd Come For Was Havin' Some Fun

Wed, 30 Dec 2009 05:58:31 GMT

Delivery and Confusion

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Masashi Kishimoto’s Naruto and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summary: A package is delivered. Chaos and Kiba ensue.

Author’s Note: Written for Kiterie. Possible out-of characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 30 December 2009

Rating: T

Kiba stared at it. “What the fuck!” He yelped.

Shino looked impassive. “Kiba. What is that?”

“How the fuck should I know! That blond BIMBO—”

“Um, Kiba-kun?” Hinata tried to interrupt nervously.

“—Just showed up with it and told me to ‘get pictures’!”

Akamaru whined.

“Exactly! Just ‘cuz she’s got some stupid-assed plan to get—”

“Kiba-kun,” Hinata tried again.

“—Her fuckin’ fix from me doesn’t mean that I know what the fuck that is!”

Hinata took Kiba’s pause to take a breath as a chance to try for a third time. “Kiba-kun.”

“Yeah? What izzit, Hina-chan?”

“Th-th-that package?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s…it’s not…it’s not for you.”

“What the hell do you mean?! Ino-kun said that it was!”

“The name on the card is smudged,” Shino said as he plucked the card off of the…whatever it was. “But that does not look like your name.”

“It’s too messy to—”

“There are clearly more letters being used than are in your name.”

“—Yeah, well, screw Ino, too! Damn fan girl…” Kiba paused. “If it ain’t for me, than who’zit for? And why did Ino say that it was?”

“Um, well,” Hinata nervously tapped her fingers together. “I, um, think it’s for…well, me.”

“WHAT?! Who the hell is trying to muscle their way into Hina-chan’s heart?! They have to go through me first!”

“Kiba.”

“There is NO WAY I’m gonna let jus’ anyone get to date Hina-chan! Akamaru!”

The dog whufed out an agreement and sniffed the package.

“Kiba.” Shino sounded patient.

“Yeah? What izzit?”

“Have you even asked Hina-chan if she’s interested in dating anyone?”

Kiba paused mid-rant and blinked. “What? Why?”

Shino made a slight long-suffering noise. “Because if Hina-chan wants to date someone, it really doesn’t matter what you think, now does it? You should make sure that she wants this person’s attention before you start threatening people.”

Kiba thought about this for a moment. “I guess you’re right,” he grumbled. “Hina-chan, is there anyone you don’t wanna date but they might wanna date you an’ can I beat the crap outta ‘em for not goin’ away for you?”

Hinata smiled. “If someone like that…come around, you’ll…you’ll be the first to know.”

Mollified for the moment, Kiba looked at the thing. “Who sent it, Akamaru?”

“Whuff!”

“I know Ino had it! She’s the one who brought it here!”

“Woof! Woof!”

“Fine, establish a timeline if that makes you happy!”

Shino handed Hinata the card and watched impassively as she opened it.

Akamaru sneezed.

Kiba laughed uproariously. “That’s ‘scactly what I think, too!”

Hinata flushed a pretty red and stuffed the card back into the envelop. “I…I…IthinkKurenai-sensei’scoming!”

Shine raised an eyebrow. “That good?” He asked wryly.

Kiba looked at the two of them. “What? What’d I miss?”

“Never mind,” Shino said dryly. “Why did Ino-kun think it was for you?”

“I dunno. ‘Maru says Shikamaru-kun had it before that Bimbo did.”

“Nara Shikamaru? Ah.”

“What’s THAT supposed to mean, huh?”

“Nothing. Simply that it explains a few things.”

Hinata nodded.

Kiba looked at his friends. “What’d I miss?” He asked suspiciously.

Hinata tapped her forefingers together nervously. “You…you already know.”

He scowled. “Does this have something to do with the increased amount of hormones comin’ off of that lazy bum?”

“Well, I d-d-don’t know that I would call it—”

“Yes,” Shino said blandly.

“Okay.” Kiba appeared satisfied for the moment. He looked at Hinata. “Well? Ain’t you gonna open it?”

She flushed darker. “Um…I…I really don’t think…”

“No, she’s not. Not with us here.” Shino snagged Kiba’s sleeve and dragged him out the door. “Hina-chan, we will see you tomorrow morning at the usual training field.”

“HEY! HEY! HINA-CHAN, IF IT’S ANYTHING DIRTY, I’LL KILL HIM! HEAR ME?! I’ll KILL HIM!”

“The whole village did.”

“Yeah, well, she’s only got us to protect her! We hafta make sure that she’s safe and some jackass doesn’t go an’ break her heart! An’ we hafta make sure he’ll treat her like a queen. And that she’s getting’ the best. An’—”

“Kiba. I know.”

“Whuff.”

“Right. She’s only gonna get the best.”

There was a small commotion in the restaurant. Ino stumbled out, waving at them and Sakura peered over the blonde girl’s shoulder, unobtrusively holding a camera.

“Sooooooo…” Ino grinned that insane, obsessive smile of hers. “Like what you got?”

“The package was for Hina-chan,” Shino droned impassively.

The smile slid off of both girls’ faces. “No way,” Sakura breathed.

“That’s not true!” Ino squared her feet and put her hands on her hips. “I got it from—”

“—Who probably got it from someone else.” Shino interrupted, sounding almost bored.

“Bet you didn’t think of that, didja?” Kiba said. He knew there was something in Ino’s behaviours (and Sakura’s camera), but if there was one thing he had learned from observing them, there were things that he didn’t really want to think too deeply on. This clearly was one of those things.

Akamaru snuffed and sat down, scratching his ear vigorously. White bits of fur went flying everywhere.

“Ew! Gah! Kiba-kun! Make Akamaru stop it!” Ino screeched, trying to ward off the barrage of dog hairs.

Kiba laughed uproariously. How the hell that girl ever became a ninja, he had no idea, especially since such little things grossed her out.

“Mah, Ino, keep it down,” a bored voice drawled from inside the restaurant. “People are trying to enjoy their food here.”

“And what do you mean by THAT?”

“He means you’re puttin’ people offa their food!” Kiba announced gleefully.

Ino glared.

Kiba thought nothing of it. He waved energetically and ran down the street, laughing as Akamaru loped alongside him, tongue hanging out happily.

Ino glared harder. Kiba was so going to regret that.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Kiba knew he was in trouble when he couldn’t find his pants. He knew that he was in even more trouble when he heard a faint booming noise and smelled the faint wisps of gunpowder.

He really wished that Sakura’s cable would get pulled. Then maybe she’d stop watching those stupid Samurai-gun shows and getting stupid ideas.

He’d get the idiot who sold her the gunpowder later. First, he had to get a pair of pants. Then he had to do something equally terrible to Sakura and Ino. Only after that could he get the gunpowder moron.

He growled. He might have to get Shino involved for some of this. Shino was much better at these kinds of things.

But first. Pants.

Kiba whistled and Akamaru loped up, tongue lolling.

“Shut up! It’s not that funny! Get over here!”

Akamaru barked, but obligingly stood on the bank so Kiba could use him as a shield.

Gods. Kiba was never going to live this down, he just knew it! He was never going to hear the end of this one. What kind of ninja was he, not noticing that Ino (or Sakura or whoever) had stolen his pants while he was swimming?

Fuck. He hated that bitch.

A clearing opened in front of him and he breathed a sigh of relief. Shikamaru was lying in the centre, staring at the clouds.

Shikamaru was a good guy; he’d help a friend in need.

“Oy! Shikamaru!”

A pony tail rose slightly. “Tch, what is it now?”

“Help me out here, will ya?”

The pony tail raised a little higher. “Kiba? What…” he faded out. “Ino?”

“Yeah, damn blonde stole my pants!”

“…Do I even want to know?” Shikamaru grumbled, but got up. He gave Kiba a long look.

Kiba tried breathing through his mouth because the air had suddenly gotten very thick with smells he’d rather not think about right now.

“What do you want?” Shikamaru asked, voice half an octave lower than normal.

“Pants. Clothing. To kill Ino and her little posse. But I’ll settle for just the pants right now.”

“I’m not giving you mine,” Shikamaru drawled. “I could go and find you some. Or I can loan you my shirt until you find a pair.”

“Shirt,” Kiba said after a moment of contemplation. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about people coming up from behind or Akamaru getting distracted.

The lazy genius peeled off his vest and then stripped off his shirt, tossing it at Kiba. “If you cut it half, you can make it into a sort of loin cloth skirt,” he noted, voice still lower than normal and without only the smallest amount of boredom in his voice.

Kiba paused. “You okay with me shreddin’ it?”

“I did suggest it, didn’t I. Besides,” Shikamaru adjusted his mesh undershirt as he put his vest back on. “It’ll give that troublesome woman something to complain about that’s not my marital status.”

“Man, I so owe you one! You just name something and bam! I’ll do what I can!” Kiba made quick work of the shirt and tied the sleeves together around his hips.

Akamaru sneezed.

“Hey! Don’t talk about that sort of stuff here!” Kiba glared at his dog.

The large dog whined a little bit, and then trotted off to sniff a few trees.

“Hey, you’re a genius. What do you think I should do to Ino?”

“Mheh, I don’t know. When she gets mad, she makes my life difficult,” Shikamaru grumbled. “Anyhow, I owe her right now.”

“How the hell did you get in her debt?” Damn, maybe Shikamaru wasn’t such a genius after all.

“She…arranged some things for me, in a rather…ingenious way. Apparently, she can be rather resourceful when she wants something.”

“Whatever. Hey, I’m gonna go get some real clothes, okay? I’ll pay you back later!”

“Are you doing anything this evening?”

Kiba scratched his head and then pulled the shirt back up when it slipped a little. “Dunno. ‘Sumin’ that I’m done wit’ Ino at that point…don’t think much, why?”

Shikamaru shrugged slightly and put his hands in his pockets. “Thought you might want to go out for ramen or barbeque or sushi or something.”

“You wanna go out? Sure, I guess.”

“Whuff.”

“What?” Kiba squawked. “He does not!”

“Wuff.”

“Dumb dog,” he grumbled. Then—because it was Akamaru who said something—Kiba narrowed his eyes and asked “it ain’t a date, izzit?”

“Could be.” Shikamaru was still watching him a bit too intently. “I figured that I’d broach it slowly.”

Kiba snorted. “You don’t get nuthin’ by goin’ slowly, dumbass. I thought you were some fuckin’ genius or sumthin’!” He stalked up to the Nara. “You hafta go for it!”

“If you insist.”

Faster than Kiba thought the lazy bastard could move, Shikamaru grabbed Kiba’s face and kissed him, hard.

Okay, Kiba had walked right into that one.

And he really should have figured out that Shikamaru was in heat for him a long time ago.

Guess he had to make up for some lost time, then.

He vaguely heard Akamaru pad off to give them a little more privacy.

“So,” Shikamaru breathed across his mouth. “Dinner. Date. Make-out session. Tonight.”

“Okay,” Kiba agreed and closed the distance between them.

For being such a lazy bastard, Shikamaru certainly knew how to expend energy.

Only Akamaru’s loud announcement of people approaching could force Kiba to pry himself off of the Nara and take his hands out from unzippered vest.

Hinata took one look at them and started blushing terribly.

Shino looked---well, the same. He might have paused for a moment longer than he normally would have, but he was always one to take things in stride. “Kiba. Why were your pants shot out of a cannon from the top of the Hokage Monument?”

Kiba rubbed the back of his neck. “Long story. But it’s Ino-kun’s fault! Hey, wanna help me take her down a notch or summin’?”

Hinata braided her fingers together. “We…um, we…webroughtyouyourpants!” She blurted out. “Didn’tmeanttointerruptyou!”

“Pants!” Kiba reached for them and suddenly found that he couldn’t move. “What the fuck!”

“He’ll need them later, but not now.” Shikamaru drawled. “Come back in, oh, two hours.”

Hinata’s face reach a shade of red that had been previously undiscovered until that moment.

Part of Shino’s face might have twitched, but it was hard to tell. “Of course,” he said blandly. “We’ll come back then.” He caught the girl’s arm and steered her away.

“Hey! Bring back my pants! What the fuck were you thinkin’?! Those are my favourite pair!”

“I already told you that you don’t need them now.” Shikamaru kissed him to stop him from protesting further. “You can get them later.” Another purposeful kiss. “Much later.”

“…okay.” Pants might be overrated, anyhow.

x Fin x

Tada Nagasareru Dake Ashiato Dake Wo Nokoshite

Tue, 29 Dec 2009 06:25:08 GMT

Holiday Explanations

Summary: Sai answers all the questions Gaara has

Author’s Note: Written for Zira. Possible out-of characterness and crack. Crack like whoa.

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 29 December 2009

Rating: K+

Gaara scowled and looked thoroughly unconvinced. “So he passes judgement on everyone?”

Sai nodded.

The scowl got darker. “How does he keep track of everyone?”

“He has a very extensive network of spies and informants. He also has a very rare bloodline trait that allows him to know everything everyone is doing at any given moment.”

“Why hasn’t any village made use of this?”

Sai shrugged. “I hear his powers are seasonal. They aren’t as strong the rest of the year. Plus, not only is he located in an impenetrable fortress far to the north, he has amassed a large army of midgets to defend him and his land.”

“Midgets.”

“Yes.”

“Why midgets?”

“Well, it seems in colder climates, it’s better to be small. It’s easier on circulation and the bone structure. I also think part of it’s economically. Smaller people not only eat less and use less fabric for clothing, but he can fit more floors into his fortress and thus get more floor space for them to work in.”

Gaara digested this. “I suppose that I can follow that train of logic. It still doesn’t explain his need for judgement and use of bribery. Or the use of the deer.”

“The deer are probably the only members of the local fauna that are big enough to do his bidding and won’t try to eat him during lean times,” Sai said reasonably. “I imagine that bears are no good not only due to their dislike of humans, but their hibernation patterns of sleeping all winter. Wolves would probably eat someone’s summons, and wolverines and badgers don’t play nice with anyone. That—more or less—leaves the deer.”

“What about yaks? Yaks make more sense than deer.”

Sai thought about it for a moment. “Maybe there were no yaks when he got started and by the time he had found some, he was already using the deer.”

Gaara seemed to accept this answer. “How does he finish in one night?”

“Time compression jutsu. He also has this pill he feeds his deer that allows them to move at the speed of light. However, it drains the deer so much that they need half a year to recover from it and another half of a year to build back up to a point that he can use it on them again. It’s another reason why he only operates one night a year.”

He nodded slowly. “What about the size? It cannot be helpful for him to be of such bulk. Not only is it bad for his heart and health, it can’t make thing easier on the deer.”

“It makes it easier for him to assert his dominance,” Sai answered promptly. “Plus, his wife has a fetish for such things.”

Gaara blinked. “How do you know that?”

“She’s always feeding him. Forcing him to eat more and more and giving him lots of sweets and the likes.”

“How do we know that she’s not trying to kill him so she can take over?”

“Because she couldn’t. She doesn’t know the jutsus nor the ingredients for the pills or anything like that. Anyhow, she has a pretty cushy job right now. She can bake all day and do whatever she pleases and her husband’s the one who has to do all the hard stuff and take all the heat if things don’t work out.”

“Is he some sort of puppet government for her?”

“I don’t think so. She knows a good thing when she see one.”

“Which brings me back to my original question; why does he feel the need to judge everyone?”

“It didn’t start that way,” Sai said with an air of great knowledge. “It started when he was first perfecting his jutsus and pills. People began to expect him around certain times and the nice children would fill their shoes with salt and hay for the deer and he’d leave gifts as thank-you’s. He got hit by a genjutsu when he was flying over Mist one year, and even though it was removed, some of the damage was permanent. It gave him the idea that he should do the whole reward thing to everyone. He’d give gifts to the people who fit his mode for ‘good’, and he’d give all the people who were ‘naughty’ either Chlamydia or a really small penis, depending on how ‘bad’ he thought you were. He originally stuffed those people in a sack and tried to use them as slave labour, but not only did that get messy with the other countries, it wasn’t cost-effective.”

Gaara blinked. “So he’s a little mentally unstable?”

“Unfortunately.”

Kankuro walked into the room. “Hey Squirt, Sai-san. What have you two been holed up here for the last two hours talking about?”

“Sai-san has been kind enough to explain many of the Konoha holiday traditions to me,” Gaara said thoughtfully, still sorting through all the information. “It has been very enlightening.”

Kankuro paused. “What, exactly, has he been telling you?”

“We have discussed the propositional powers of mistletoe, the tree tradition that comes from the old practice of decorating one’s penis to prove domination, and we have just finished Saint Nicholas and his jutsus.”

Kankuro rubbed his eyes. “That’s…that’s not how it goes.”

Gaara scowled. “What?”

“Look it, I’m…I’m gonna go find someone else to do this. Don’t listen to him any more.”

Gaara watch his brother leave and heard him call for their sister. He looked back at the artist.

Sai smiled brightly. “Do you want to discuss the tradition of hiding the pickle now?”

x Fin x

And All I Know Of Love Is How To Live Without It

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 07:15:11 GMT

It was all over the news the next morning. Newspapers blazed 'BOOKSTORE FACES TERRORISTIC ATTACK BY COMPETITOR' and 'KONOHA BOOKSTORE BOMBED BY RIVAL COMPANY' and 'BOOK TYCOON KILLED IN ATTACK BY COMPETITION'. Newscasters—faces serious—reported about how the store had been attacked by the Oto Bookstore—a rival company known for its cheap books and inferior help and loud sound systems—and showed dramatic photographs of the ruined store as well as repeatedly looping eulogies about the late business man, Mr Sarutobi. Radio broadcasters observed solemnly that this went beyond normal horrors and business warfare; this was an attack on free speech and capitalistic, democratic ideas themselves. Comedians asked if there was to be the new business model—'we're losing business to the damn place down the street 'cuz they have better coffee and a nicer ambience and more famous authors—let's blow the place up!';—or commented on their first reaction to the news—'when I heard a bookstore had been bombed, my first thoughts were 'gee, must have run out of those Twilight books—betcha they don't do that again!''

Suna, a store that had been flirting with both Konoha and Oto about a possible merger with one or the other, had been implicated in the attack and it wasn’t looking good for them, as they were currently refusing to make a statement.

Iruka turned off his telly and imagined, just for a minute, that he had a life and friends outside of his job and that in a moment, he’d have people calling to see if he was all right and to get the story from him; since he had neither, he settled for taking Naruto out and flattered him for being courageous and calm in the events that had occurred.

Naruto absorbed the praise (and the ramen—where did he put it all?) and managed to get out in between slurps ‘you didn’t so bad yourself, Iruka!’

He almost invited the boy to spend another night, but restrained himself from doing so. He was procrastinating and it was getting to be a bit ridiculous. So he walked the blond back to the orphanage, waved to a skipping rope Lee and skulking Sasuke, and walked back home.

He sat down and felt the enormity of the situation hit him. His workplace was in ruins, he faced the real possibility of losing his job (and subsequently, his benefits) and his boss—his evil, demonic, annoying boss—liked him.

Iruka groaned and covered his face. Of all the things, why was it the least important one the one that seemed to need the most attention? He should be worried about his résumé and if they would re-open the store again and how long he could afford to live off of his savings if they didn’t, not about his stupid boss’s surprisingly deep attachment and attraction to him.

Kakashi had been cold and aloof from the moment Iruka had been introduced when he first was hired. He’d always been such an ass that—even with his stupid co-worker’s insistence—Iruka had no indication of Kakashi’s interest.

Fuck. His co-workers! HOW was he going to ever going to face them again? He had been pretty terrible to some of them—some of them undeserving of such treatment—all because they tried to tell him of this little fact earlier.

Anko and Genma excluded from that, of course. They deserved absolutely everything that Iruka did to them.

He rubbed his eyes. He’d managed to tell himself that everyone at the store was so full of it for so long that he believed it. He was going to have to eat crow and apologies to most of his co-workers for being such an idiot.

And that meant that he was going to have put up with their jibes and harassment and suggestions of positions that Kakashi might like, because it would be a fitting hell for him for being so obtuse for so long.

Then there was the problem of Kakashi himself. Iruka was fairly sure he’d never be able to look the man in the face again, much less work with him. How was he going to be able to work with someone that had been such a jerk to him before, but apparently wanted him for just as long?

Who acted that way towards someone they liked, anyhow?

And what was Iruka going to do about it? He couldn’t unlearn the fact and he was having troubles forgetting the look in Kakashi’s eyes when the silver-haired man touched him. He could try to pretend that nothing had changed, but Iruka knew that was a plan that wouldn’t go far; he was never that good at those sorts of things.

The worse thing—in Iruka’s opinion—was now that he knew how Kakashi felt about him was he found himself actually automatically weighing the pros and cons of pursuing a relationship with the fucktard.

Gods, what was he thinking? He didn’t like Kakashi! The man—hot genius he might be—had been nothing but a jerk to Iruka, even though he evidently liked Iruka! You didn’t treat people you were attracted to like shit! You just didn’t!

Annoyed, angry, and aggravated, Iruka hopped to his feet and paced his small living room. Even if company policy allowed dating between management and subordinates, he would never date Kakashi!

And that was that.

The jerk had a fast one coming.

And Iruka was going to see to that, if it was the last thing he ever did.

x Fin x

Don't Know Nothing

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 07:10:19 GMT

Fallout

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Masashi Kishimoto's Naruto and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summary: A normal day at the store goes bad. Sequel to 'Crush, Deny, Vehicular Homicide', but can be read alone.

Author's Note: Alternate universe, and possible out-of characterness,

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 28 December 2009

Rating: T

Iruka was faced with a great dilemma: He could either kill his co-workers and be free of them forever, but be doomed to spend the rest of his life watching Naruto try to give him ramen-flavoured cakes with hacksaws baked inside, or he might just have to admit that maybe—just maybe—they weren’t as dense as he was.

The first option was looking like the best one, but that probably had more to do with the fact that Ibiki was giving him a stony, pitying look while Aoba asked him—again—if he was going to ‘leave denial in Africa’ than it did with anything else.

The two were being added to his list of Marked for DISTRUCTION.

Then again, everyone in the store—save only Kurenai, Asuma, Chouza (but only because of the Monday Muffins), Inochi, and Shikaku—was on the list, so maybe it didn’t matter. And that wasn’t enough people to run a store of this size, so maybe he should just go for maiming his co-workers instead of killing them.

Kakashi wandered by, almost distractedly ignoring the twelve year olds that scampered after him.

“Something’s going on,” Aoba observed after he disappeared. “Have you two noticed?”

Ibiki grunted, which made both of the two other booksellers to look up at him sharply. If it had been nothing, Ibiki would have been the first to say so.

“So there is something going on. And it has to be big if he’s ignoring the kids and Iruka!”

Iruka’s fist twitched.

“Do you think it’s because Mr Sarutobi’s visiting?” Aoba mused, looking around for their former District Manager. When he didn’t see the bald head of the man who had been popular for being both compassionate and a vicious business shark, he returned his attention to Ibiki.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Iruka said, sorting through the pile of reshelves.

Aoba’s head swivelled sharply. “What do you mean?”

“There’s something else in the air.” Ibiki was giving Iruka an unnerving piercing stare, and Iruka ducked his head, long fringes falling over his glasses.

“It’s almost eleven,” was all Ibiki dryly said.

Aoba looked puzzled as Iruka cursed under his breath and dove for the phone for the Story Time announcement.

He nearly ran into Kakashi as he hurried to the back of the store where the Story Stage was situation. “Sorry.”

Naruto’s blond head poked from around his unimpressed boss. “Hey, hey Iruka!” He looked excited. “Today Mr Hatake said he’d teach us the secret of success! And then I can become the best business dude in the world and everyone will—ow! What was that for, Sakura?!”

“Idiot,” Sasuke smirked.

“It’s business man, not ‘dude’!” The girl snapped, then fluttered her eyelashes at Sasuke. “Isn’t that right, Sasuke?”

Kakashi gave Iruka a look that was equal parts exasperated and long-suffering. “Okay, brats, go scurry off to the centre of a volcano somewhere because I need to talk to Iruka before he disappears into the depths of Kiddie Hell.”

“It’s not ‘Kiddie Hell’ and if I don’t go right now, I won’t have an audience to read to.”

He huffed in an annoyed manner. “Look it, why don’t you stir things up a little bit? Show the kids Receiving or something. Give them a tour of the Break Room.”

“When I suggested that to you before, you said that—and I quote—‘the day you bring any little brats into those spaces is the day you’ll be reading the want ads’, unquote.”

“People change. Things change. I’m hurt to think that you don’t believe that of me!”

“Whatever, Kakashi. I have to go now. Parents and children don’t take kindly to being made to wait.”

“Brats, go with Iruka,” Kakashi ordered, almost lazily. “Watch him and when he returns you, I want you to be able to tell me what you would do differently and what you would do exactly the same to ensure customer happiness.”

Iruka almost told off his arrogant bastard of a boss, but swallowed his retorts with difficultly. Not only did he not have time for that, he needed to set a good example for Naruto and the others.

“Whatcha readin’ today, Iruka? Are you reading something good? Huh? Is it full of action?” Naruto bounced next to him.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “They’re children’s book, moron.”

Naruto looked defensive and insulted. “They’re good! They aren’t just for kids, idiot! Isn’t that right, Iruka-sensei?”

“Don’t call people names. And yes, they are for everyone, not just for children.” Iruka smiled at the children that had started to gather around the Storytime Stage.

He was halfway through The Paper Bag Princess when the first explosion rocked the store.

Children and adults alike screamed and panic immediately grabbed everyone.

Iruka raised his voice, on his feet, trying to sound authoritative and strong while curled around Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura. “Everyone! Follow me and stay low! Make a chain and do not let go!”

People grasped wildly at hands and backs as they clutched their children and stumbled after Iruka.

He pulled people through aisles and behind shelves, trying to use his body as a shield from falling books and anything else for the three kids he clung to. Screams, explosions, gun fire, and the noise of destruction slammed through the air.

There was an open area in front of the door to Receiving. Iruka paused for a moment, then turned to the woman behind him. “Stay here. I’m going to open the door. Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, stay here with—”

“There’s no WAY I’m staying here!” Naruto said loudly. “Ow!”

“Keep it down¸ dumbass!” Sasuke hissed.

“Language!” Iruka snapped. “And you will stay with the people, because I need someone to help me over here! Now STAY HERE until I tell you differently!”

“Yes, Sir,” the three children chorused.

Taking a deep breath, Iruka darted across the open area. Moving fast, he typed in the code into the door and yanked it open. He beckoned the people, one small group at a time into the room. At one point, they were spotted and Iruka was forced to use a copy of Mein Kampf and Philosophy and Twilight to save the man and his toddler from the gunman.

He ignored the stinging in his shoulder from where a bullet had grazed him and yanked the last group of people into the room. He slammed the door shut and quickly glanced around the room. “Naruto!” He barked out. “Take a few people and get those old shelving unit parts from the back wall there! We’ll use them to brace the doors and keep them shut.”

The idea of keeping the door shut and doing something to help motivated a lot of the parents to follow Naruto and grab the heavy, big slabs of wood and metal. They braced the door and then braced the back exit while Iruka locked the large rolling doors that the trucks used.

The rest of the pieces he had the people build some barricades in case the door plan failed.

Somehow, Iruka reflected, he never imagined that his life might end while he was trying to save people’s lives, armed only with manga, Twilight books, and Helga’s Dowry.

Speaking of which…

Half the children were sobbing loudly, despite their parents’ attempts to quiet them down. Iruka took a deep breath, told his shoulder to stop bleeding already, and asked “who would like to know what happens next to Princess Elizabeth?”

A parent stared at him. “Are you out of your mind? Crazy people are out there in the store, trying to blow us up and you want to read a stupid story?!”

Naruto bunched up his fists. “It’s not a ‘stupid story’! And he just save your sorry ass, so watch it!”

“Naruto.” Iruka returned the parent’s stare levelly. “I find that few things calm children down faster or better than a good story. And with the noise that the children are making, don’t you think it would be a good idea to have everyone calm and quiet?”

The parent meekly shut up.

In the middle of the sixth story, someone tried to open the door. Everyone went still and Iruka could feel all his hard work to calm everyone down go flying at the window.

The door rattled a few times as someone tried to open in, and the sound of someone trying the door code filled the silent room.

The person stopped and everyone held their breath.

Suddenly, the phone by the receiving computer beeped and started blinking. “Iruka? Are you back there? If you are, get over here and pick up the damn phone!”

Iruka never thought he’d be so happy to hear the voice of his arch nemesis. A small part of him thought that Kakashi sounded worried, but he ignored that part.

“Wait here,” he told everyone and then quickly climbed over the makeshift barricade.

“Iruka? Are you back there?” The phone blinked again.

He picked up the receiver. “Kakashi?”

“Oh, thank god!” He’d never heard Kakashi sound so relieved before. “Are you okay? Why can’t I get into Receiving?”

“We barricaded the doors. Don’t worry, everyone’s fine back here. Shook up, but fine. What happened?”

“The police are here now, so it’s safe to come out. In fact, you should because they want to take statements and get people to the hospital if they need it.”

“What happened?”

“It’s…probably best if you see it for yourself.”

A few of the children burst into tears the moment that they figured out that they could and Iruka praised all of them for being so brave.

He helped move things out of the way of the doors and stepped out of the back.

The store looked like a war zone. Bits of books and broken glass coated the floor. Shelves—the ones that were still standing—looked like something out of a Dali painting. Ugly scorch marks and stains of things Iruka didn’t want to think about scarred the floor.

Kakashi loomed up in the centre of Iruka’s vision, standing way too close and his eye afire. “You said that everyone was okay.”

“Everyone is!” Iruka tried to take a step back, but Kakashi caught his shoulder.

“Then why, pray tell, are you bleeding?!”

“It’s nothing. It just got grazed—what are you doing!”

Iruka tried to dig his heels in, but with all the debris, there was no way for him to find a place to brace himself against Kakashi’s pulling.

“You are so…so…so stupid sometimes!” Kakashi snarled under his breath. “Gets shot and then tries to tell me that ‘everyone’s okay’!”

“It’ll stop bleeding in just a second—damn it, I’m fine!”

“No, Iruka, you’re not. You’re still bleeding and you’ve lost a decent amount of blood. Neither of those things fit in the definition of ‘fine’. You are going to get medical attention for that.”

“There are other people who need it more than—”

Kakashi stopped so suddenly that Iruka nearly ran into him. He spun and his face was a mere hairsbreadth from Iruka’s. “Are you suggestion,” he gritted out, “that even though you got shot, had the presence of mind to move a group of parents and children to a safe spot, and saved numerous lives that you are somehow not worthy of having a trained professional look at your wounds?”

“I didn’t mean it that way—”

“Then are you trying to tell me that there is someone who is more deserving than you to receive medical attention?”

“I’m sure there are people who are hurt more seriously than I am—”

“They’ve been taken to the hospital already,” Kakashi snapped. “And frankly, I’ve half a mind to send you there with them.”

“Don’t be stupid! I—”

“No, apparently that’s your job right now.”

Iruka ground his teeth together. “I’m fine and I don’t need you to treat me like some sort of stupid child!” He tried to jerk his arm out of Kakashi’s strong grip.

“Then be reasonable! You’re wounded! You need someone to look at that!”

The new tone that was creeping into Kakashi’s voice made Iruka bite back his words. He reminded himself for all of Kakashi’s inability to connect with people, the man was trying to make sure that people got the proper help they needed—probably to prevent a lawsuit later.

“Fine. I’ll get looked at.”

The exasperated look lost a lot of its potency due to the relief that flickered over the pale man’s face. “Excuse me for being concerned about your welfare,” he muttered as his single eye flickered down briefly and Iruka was suddenly powerfully award of the fact that he’d just wetted his lips and how close the other man was standing to him.

All the stuff that had been spewing out of his co-workers’ mouths suddenly made a lot of sense.

Too much sense.

Iruka abruptly needed some distance—emotional and other—from his boss. “You have a crappy way of showing it.”

“Well, we’ll see how well you do when your store gets blasted to bits.” Kakashi seemed to understand and not only stepped back, but looked away. “C’mon, let’s get you fixed up.”

Iruka followed, mind stumbling over the bit of information he’d been denying for over a month. He told himself that now was not the time to analyse what his boss felt for him. He could have that break-down later.

Once he was far, far, far away from the face that hadn’t managed to conceal all its anxiety.

The emergency worker looked harried and stressed. She was quick and efficient with bandaging Iruka up, but she put forth no energy to converse with him or to know anything more than the bare bone facts.

Gai bounded up, all greenness and seriousness. “I am Glad to see you, Iruka!” He boomed. “When I did not see you after the Deceitful and Cowardly Attack on our Lovely Store, I feared the Worst! But then my Esteemed Rival told me of your Brave Doings! I feel Honoured that we have Such a Man in our store!”

“Thank you.” Iruka managed to squeeze in when the big man took a breath.

“But that is not the only reason that I came over to see you! I am here to tell you that once you have given your statement to the Hard-Working Law Enforcers, you are Free to go home! Wise Kakashi thinks that everyone will need some Time to recover! I fully Agree with his Infallible Logic! If we are to Continue to do our Good and Youthful Duty to our Noble Store, we must have time to Recuperate! We will not be Defeated by such Unyouthful Act ivies! We will Rally and come back Stronger that Before!”

“Yes, yes, yes, that’s very nice, Gai. Have you seen Naruto and his friends?”

“They are gathered with my Youthful Job Shadow Team!” Gai waved his hand wildly—probably at Lee (Iruka might have succeeded a little too well with that match-up). “See? They are by my Lovely Blue Bug!”

Iruka tried not to look at the blinding atrocity that Gai claimed was his car. “Thank you.”

Gai managed to find it in him to flash Iruka a still sparkly smile. “It is nothing!” He patted Iruka’s good shoulder. “Do not worry about coming back to work for a little bit! Kakashi and I and the other Righteous Managers will met with our Fair District Manager and decide what Action we shall take! Now I must take leave of you and see how Brave Anko is holding up! Farewell!”

Iruka rubbed his temple. Gai took a lot of energy to deal with, even on a good day.

Sighing, he got up, thanked the overworked medic, and made his way over to the kids.

Naruto barrelled into him, nearly knocking him over. “Iruka! You okay? Did that lady do a good job on your arm? If she didn’t, I’m gonna kick her butt—”

“Naruto.”

“Sorry! Sorry!”

Iruka ruffled the blond hair. “I’m fine. I just need to give a statement to an officer and then we can go, all right?”

“Okay.”

“Have you all given the officers a statement?”

Six heads bobbed. “It was the second thing that we did,” Sakura said, with an air of maturity. “We did it right after we all got cleared by the medics.”

Iruka nodded his approval. “While I’m gone, I’d appreciate it if you all would call your parents or guardians and let them know that you are safe. If you can’t arrange for a ride home, let me know and I’ll drop you off. And if you see Kotetsu or Izumo, call me and let me know if they need a ride as well.”

It took Iruka a little bit to find a police officer that wasn’t busy, and then it took longer than he expected because the man kept interrupting and wanting Iruka to clarify things.

“Lemme get this straight…you managed to get a whole crowd of people—’cludin’ some toddlers—into the back room an’ you’re th’ only one who got hurt?” The man stared at him. “An’ you got ‘em to help you barricade the doors and make some blockades and kept all those kids quiet?”

“It didn’t happen just like that,” Iruka protested, face turning pink.

“But that’s the jist o’thin’s, ain’t it?”

“Well, maybe, but—”

The police man shook his head. “You’re somethin’ else. Ever think o’comin’ an officer? We need more guys like you on th’ force.”

Iruka didn’t have much more to say on the matter, so he simply returned to his report, hoping that he could leave soon and take those pain killers that the medic had given him.

The idea of driving home—much less anyone else home—seemed like a monumental task, especially since his arm was starting to throb. He took a deep breath and made himself push away the despairing thoughts; he had people—children—who were relying on him. He couldn’t be finished, not yet.

“Iruka, I thought Gai told you to go home!” Kakashi looked irritated.

“I am going home. I just had to check on the kids and give my statement to the police.”

He glared at Iruka. “Well, stop lollygagging around! Go! Get out of here!”

Iruka scowled. “I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing and I’m leaving. You don’t have to be an ass about things.” He shut his eyes, feeling drained and old and exposed. “I’m…sorry. That was uncalled for—”

The back of Kakashi’s fingers gently brushed Iruka’s cheek, causing Iruka’s eyes to snap open and his words to fail him.

“I’m…” Kakashi said softly, “I’m really glad that you’re okay. Who else is going to call me on things like you do?” The smooth edge of a nail grazed the very corner of Iruka’s mouth.

Iruka couldn’t move. He thought he took a shuddering breath, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from the…softness in his boss’s face.

For a crazy moment, Kakashi’s mouth hovered over his.

“Go home, Iruka. Get some rest.”

The words—quietly and kindly as they had been spoken—snapped Iruka in the face like a rubber band. This was Kakashi, the man who had made his life a living hell for longer than anyone else had. He went out of his way to be an ass. He liked making Iruka suffer.

He also, apparently, had it bad for Iruka.

Have this breakdown later. Have this breakdown later. Have this breakdown later.

“See you later,” he muttered and hurried out to his car, digging the keys out of his pocket. He wasn’t going to analyse things now. He had to get people home. He had to get him home.

Kotetsu looked like he had been thrown into a couple of windows and walls and Izumo didn’t look much better. Neither said much as they fell into the car next to Naruto and Sasuke.

Iruka made sure that Sasuke and his co-workers knew to call him if they needed anything before he let them out of the car. Naruto didn’t get the speech because with the amount of time that the boy spend sleeping on his old sofa, Iruka figured that he’d hear if there was something.

Naruto was good and didn’t say anything when Iruka downed the painkillers and stumbled off to bed to sleep off the side-effects. He’d take the boy out to ramen to reward him for being so brave later.
Next

Dann Singe Ich Ein Lied Für Dich

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 06:53:17 GMT

The Dare Itself

Summary: The conversation during the evaluation. Side story to 'The Dare'

Author’s Note: I...I couldn’t stop myself. So much crack...possible out-of characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 28 December 2009

Rating: T

Kakashi watched as Ibiki made another note on his clipboard. He’d have to break in and read what was there later.

The interrogator took a deep breath, then moved on with the evaluation. “Section VI: Relationships.” If Kakashi didn’t know better, he would say that big man looked uncomfortable and Tsunade looked horrendously expectant.

“Are you in an intimate relationship?”

“Yes.”

“Name?”

“Umino Iruka, chunin. Number 011850. Mission Room worker and Academy Teacher. 24 years old. Blood type—”

“We’re aware of Iruka-sensei’s information,” Tsunade broke in.

“Is this your only current intimate relationship?”

“Of course. Iruka is more than capable of tending to my needs, emotional, physical, psychological, and sexual.”

Ibiki shut his eyes for a moment, took another deep breath, and then continued. “How long have been intimate with your partner?”

“How intimate are we talking here? Are we talking emotionally intimate? Because that’s been about eleven months, three weeks, four days, eighteen hours, and thirty-odd minutes. Full intercourse? That’s ten months, three weeks, six days, thirteen hours, and fifteen minutes. Just sexually intimate? Ten months, three weeks, three days—”

“Thank you.” Ibiki had a slightly pained expression on his face, like he was going to have to do something that he didn’t want to do. “How…often are you intimate with your partner?”

Kakashi grinned. Here came the part he’d been waiting for. “Oh, Iruka’s game for sex almost all the time! He gets cranky if he has to go too long without an endorphin release. It helps keep him his normal, pleasant self! He likes mornings and evenings the best, so we—”

Kakashi didn’t need to see the words to know Ibiki was scrawling ‘WAY TOO MUCH’ on the evaluation sheet. “That’s enough, Hatake-san.” The tokubetsu jounin’s pained expression was quite obvious. “Do you feel that…do you feel that your intimate relationship is…satisfying?”

Anko said that he had better be explicit. Easy enough. “Well, Iruka’s really creative! Remember that bit on your desk last month, Hokage-sama? Iruka’s brilliant idea! And that cuff incident, Ibiki-san? Also Iruka’s idea! And just last week, he did this thing with a piece of cooper wire, a lemon, a velvet dress, and a set of French curves—”

Ibiki hit himself in the face with his clipboard.

“I’ll take it that you’re satisfied,” Tsunade said weakly.

“He’s the best lover I’ve ever had,” Kakashi announced. “Absolutely perfect. Plus, he can do this move with his stomach that absolutely blows my—”

“No! That’s enough!”

Ibiki hit himself in the face again.

“—Plus he’s so flexible! Why, just yesterday, he was able to lick my—”

“STOP TALKING!” Tsunade bellowed, hands clawing at her ears and eyes.

“—And then he did this little thing with some electrical chakra—”

“I ORDER YOU TO STOP THIS, NOW!

Ibiki didn’t stop smacking himself with the clipboard.

“Well, you asked,” Kakashi said sulkily.

“Remind me to never do that again.” Tsunade whimpered. “And you are strictly forbidden from ever doing another dare from Anko ever again! My gods, my brain…I can never un-hear that!”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.”

Ibiki hit himself once more, for good measure, just to make sure those images didn’t stay in his head.

Kakashi sat back, and waited for the other two to get their composure back.

Take that, Anko and Gai!

He so won that challenge and dare.

x Fin x

How Can They See With Sequins In Their Eyes?

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 06:35:58 GMT

The Dare

Summary: Iruka is out for blood. A sequel to 'Terms of Endearment', but can be read alone.

Author’s Note: Written for KitatheSpaz. Possible out-of characterness,

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 28 December 2009

Rating: T

Anko took one look at Iruka and frantically made the signs for a teleportation jutsu.

She then remembered the horrifying fact that she was in the Hokage’s Tower and there were wards in place to prevent anyone from teleporting in or out.

Time for the next best thing.

She grabbed Genma and Neji and threw them at Iruka. “Genma-san’s been paying Neji-san to write his reports!” She yelled, then bolted for the windows.

Unfortunately, Iruka had learned all her moves back when they were dating and he had rigged all the windows whit charka string, manacles, and rabbits’ feet.

“Anko-san,” Iruka sounded ridiculously calm and sweet, which made everything so much worse. “Is there something that you’d like to tell me about the party last week?”

“It was Asuma’s fault—”

“Hey! Leave me out of this!” The bearded jounin yelped—in a completely manly way, of course—as he tried to sneak out of the room.

“—He brought the sake!” Anko yelled over him. “You know what happens when I drink too much!”

“You also know what happens when you drink too much, and yet you proceeded to drink that much, anyhow. That excuse will not save you. But you do bring up an excellent point.” A kunai lodged itself in the door, preventing Asuma from creeping out. “I’ll deal with you after Anko-san provides a satisfactory explanation.”

Asuma hoped that Kuranai didn’t want o have any children with him, because from what he gathered from Kakashi, Iruka had regular castration fantasies. And if there was one thing that Asuma knew about Iruka, it was that he was a man of consistency.

“It will never happen again!”

“Anko-san, is there anything that you would like to tell me about the party last week?”

It didn’t help matters that Iruka had dango breath. He always could get her to break down in a ridiculously short period of time.

“I get stupid when I drink! You know that,” she finally started out, unable to withstand the torture any longer. “And I thought it might be good to play a game! You know, just because it was a party and games are fun and parties should be fun, so we should play games to make the party—”

“You’re digressing and stalling.”

“RIGHT! Um, so…did I mention that alcohol gives me bad ideas? Because I’m pretty sure that the alcohol was the one that suggested—after the games of Hide-and-Seek and Exploding Tags and Kill the Samurai got too destructive and violent—that we play some Truth-or-Dare, because y’know, it’s less violent? Maybe not less destructive, but less violent…”

Anko and the whole room winced as Iruka started sharpening a kunai. “Please, continue. This is all so enlightening. And Asuma-san, stop trying to use a genjutsu to fool me. I’ve seen your nephew do a better wall than you are currently doing.”

“Uh, well, not much really happened at that point…I mean, we dared Aoba to kiss Ibiki and to use tough and Gai said too much about that hooker in the Bear Country—”

“Anko-chan.”

“All right! All right! So it was my turn and I got the good idea—did I mention my relationship to alcohol yet? Because it’s import—no! Keep that noodle away from me! NOOOOO!!”

xXxXxXxXxXx

Kakashi peered over his book. There seemed to be some violent charka rolling off of Iruka. He briefly wondered if it was something he should be worried about.

But it seemed Iruka already had some chalky substance on his hands; usually it meant he’d already made someone pay.

It was really, really sexy when Iruka was pissed and full of vengeance. Some of the best sex of Kakashi’s life had occurred when Iruka was in a similar state.

Suddenly, Kakashi wasn’t interested in reading anymore.

He slithered up to Iruka. “Yo,” he murmured, curling his arms around the strong body. He nuzzled the spot right behind Iruka’s ear.

In Kakashi’s defence, he had been rather intent on seducing Iruka so all that negative energy could be redirected to something much nicer, so he never saw the charka wire.

He blinked and found himself unable to move.

“Kakashi-san! How good of you to join me!”

He wondered what he had done wrong this time; Iruka only used his name when he’d botched something up (like groped the chunin in public or laundry) and only used that tone of voice when delivering his revenge. He hadn’t done any household chores at Iruka’s recently, so it couldn’t be that…

Well, the fastest way to figure out what happened was to play along—escaping only made Iruka madder and nastier and it always resulted in Kakashi being locked out of Iruka’s apartment and there being no sex for two whole days and Kakashi’s left sandal relocating itself to a pile of dog poop every two minutes (he still hadn’t figured out how Iruka had made that jutsu).

“I am sorry. It will never happen again.” A good, sincere apology went a long way, too.

“Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“No, but whatever it is, I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me for it.”

“Empty, empty, empty!” Iruka scolded and shivers ran down Kakashi’s spine. Whatever it was that he did, he was in good and deep. Iruka was going to kill him or—worse—never have sex with Kakashi again!

“Would you care to explain that little game of Truth or Dare that seemed to have occurred at Raidou-san’s party last week?”

Aw, shit. Kakashi was so in for it now. This would be it. Iruka would break up with him and he was going to have to spend the rest of his life without this perfect, lusty, wild, spastic chunin.

He hated his life.

“Anko-san had the great idea to dare me to tell Ibiki-san and Tsunade-sama all about our relationship at my next psych eval.” Delaying tactics never worked on Iruka; and anyhow, all he was doing was postponing the inevitable.

There was also the bonus that if he owed up to what he did and took Iruka’s punishment like a man, Iruka might not throw him out on his ass and end their relationship; he might have to only suffer through a day with no groping or sex or kissing.

“And you thought that it was a good idea to follow through a suggestion that Anko-san made while she was drunk off her ass.”

“Well…she dared me! And Gai had already completed his dare—”

“Don’t you dare bring that giant green monstrosity into this!”

“And I was drunk. Did I mention that part? A lot of things sound like a good idea when I’m drunk. So…yeah. Anko-san dared me and then Gai took it as a challenge.”

Iruka glared. If the love of his life forgave him and didn’t break up with him, Kakashi decided that it was going to be a nasty one week because it was clear that Iruka was going to make that week a hellish one.

“So tell me why—when you were sober—that you still continued with it.”

Shit. “Well…I couldn’t let Gai best me and I didn’t think it would bother you this much.”

“You didn’t think it would bother me.”

“Not this much, no.” Kakashi tried to look as abashed and pathetic as he could—a whipped puppy look always seemed to make Iruka a little more sympathetic to him. “Clearly, that was stupid of me.”

“Tell me this: In what universe do you think it would ever be okay to talk about OUR SEX LIFE during your bimonthly psych evaluations?!”

“…I thought I already explained that it was extreme lack in judgement and that I won’t do it again. Besides, Ibiki-san and Tsunade-sama already made me promise them that I’d never subject them to such torture again—”

“Torture?” The artery in Iruka’s forehead throbbed dangerously. “They called it TORTURE?!”

Kakashi felt his life flash before his eyes. “Um, well, that wasn’t exactly what they said—”

“WHAT the FUCK were you telling them that we were doing in the bedroom?!”

“All I said was that you were a perfect bedroom partner! That you were lusty and creative and could do this-this-this thing with your stomach that—”

“And they called that TORTURE?!”

“Not in so many words. I mean, Tsunade-sama was clawing at her ears and shrieking and Ibiki-san kept hitting himself in the face with his clipboard—”

“How DARE they! Don’t they know that we have the largest fan club in all of Konoha?! Women are CONSTANTLY offering me money to get pictures or to tell them what we do together!” Iruka raged. “I have to sweep the apartment DAILY for bugs! How DARE they suggest that it’s TORTURE!”

Kakashi suddenly found himself released. He didn’t fall far because Iruka grabbed the front of his vest and started dragging him towards the bedroom.

“Oh, they’re going to pay for that…” Iruka snarled. “And you’re going to help me punish them properly!”

Kakashi took an extra step forwards and cautiously nuzzled the back of Iruka’s neck. “Anything you say.”

He found himself flat on his back on the bed with Iruka hovering over him. “You’re not forgiven yet!” Despite his furious words, his brown eyes travelled.

“I didn’t expect to be, not after I—mphf!”

As Iruka ripped off their vests, Kakashi mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Iruka’s fury had been diverted to someone else and his relationship with School Teacher Sex God was still intact.

He hoped that Iruka didn’t find about the other thing he had been dared to do, because he had the feeling that he wouldn’t able to divert the chunin so easily.

He had better find those pictures before Iruka did.

x Fin x

Side story

As You Float Away Into The Shimmer Lights

Sun, 27 Dec 2009 06:26:54 GMT

‘Christmas Cheer’

Summary: The Mission Room seems to have an abundance of holiday cheer…

Author’s Note: Written for Cirrat. Possible out-of characterness and gross misuse of holiday traditions

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 27 December 2009

Rating: K+

The first sign that things were not normal in the Mission Room came with Raidou. A sprig of mistletoe floated above his head—something that Anko, Tsume, Iwashi, and Genma all took advantage of (Anko and Genma got into an unspoken competition as to who could get Raidou to accept the most tongue; Aoba won).

The next clue came with Asuma, whose beard seemed to not only change colours, but gotten longer and much fuller. He also seemed to have abandoned his normal cigarette for a pipe.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Tsunade’s laughter boomed out before she slapped her hands over her mouth, shocked and embarrassed.

Shizune materialised next the Hokage. “Tsunade-sama! Are you okay? That didn’t sound—what? What’s so funny?”

Anko managed to stop howling long enough to point at what she found so hysterical before she collapsed in screaming mirth again.

Shizune looked down and let out a distinctly undignified noise. Her usual subdued uniform top had been replaced with a disturbingly ugly and tawdry jumper. It had garish bobbles and little creepy grinning reindeer doing the can-can all over it.

“What vomited in your closet?” Anko wheezed, wiping tears out of her eyes.

Shizune started to pull the atrocity off, then she looked under the jumper. Her face changed colours again and she firmly tugged it back down.

Izumo and Kotetsu were the third sign that things weren’t normal when they came in to turn in their reports from their B-ranked mission.

“Doing reports right makes me jolly,” Izumo sang. “Fa la la la, la la la la!” He looked deeply mortified as the whole room burst into more wild laughter, Tsuanade and Asuma’s deep chortles easily dominating the room.

“Here is mine, and there’s no folly, fa la la la, la la—” Kotetsu blurted out before he could stop himself. He slapped a hand over his mouth and shoved his report at Iruka.

Iruka smiled a polite smile, trying to keep his face straight. “Getting into the spirit of things today, are we?”

Neither chunin said anything more, both firmly keeping their mouths shut, though it looked like it pained them to do so. They barely waited until Iruka said ‘thank you for all your hard work’ before they bolted out of the room, faces fluorescent.

A small cluster of jounins came in, Shikaku getting quite a few sniggers due to the fact that his uniform top was seeming to try and out-ugly Shizune’s. He looked vaguely annoyed by the fact, but clearly thought doing more than that was too much effort.

Yamato handed Iruka his report.

“Thank you. How was your mission?”

“I had gone awaaaaaay, to where snow glistens. / I do what the Hokage says, ‘cuz I listen.” Yamato blinked, and tried again. “It makes her happy to know, / That I’ll go with the flow. /Even if that means going to such a faraway land!”

Iwashi gave up any pretext of standing and rolled on the floor, laughing so hard he cried.

“Mission a success?” Iruka asked Yamato pleasantly.

“And now our enemies have expired, /Since Kakashi hit them, with lots of fire.” Yamato, it seemed, couldn’t help adding the last bit. His face flamed as Tsunade let out another big, belly laugh.

“Well, thank you for all your hard work and that musical rendition.” Iruka stamped Yamato’s part of the report and bit back his giggles as the young man all but scuttled to the back of the room in embarrassment.

Kakashi trailed up, bored expression on his face.

“Hatake-san,” Iruka acknowledged.

Kakashi paused for a moment, then suddenly started singing. “Ink of black, ink of blue / I wrote this report, just for you. / Filled with words, so clear and mild / Here it is, so carefully styled / Done so your work may decrease. / Done so your work may decrease.”

Quite a few people clapped, drowning out the laughter. Kakashi had a nice baritone and it was clear that it was going to make him very popular later.

The Copy Ninja smiled a little one-eyed smile, and then wandered off, looking like he wanted to be confused, but was too good of a ninja to allow himself that kind of luxury.

“Man, am I glad that I came down here today!” Genma announced loudly.

The doors opened and everyone held their breath, waiting for what would come next. They were hoping for more of a spectacle.

They were not disappointed.

The room exploded even louder than it had before. Three ninjas wet themselves and two others passed out from laughing so hard. Tsunade broke a desk when she pounded on it in her mirth. Asuma nearly swallowed his pipe. Even Shikaku began to chortle.

Ibiki clearly was Not Impressed and radiating murderous intent, but people couldn’t seem stop laughing.

The usual imposing overcoat had been transformed into a huge knitted monstrosity. Clashing, metallic bobbles decorated it in such a way that a lampshade would have been insanely jealous of it and tasteless holiday motifs embellished it in the most vulgar way possible. Multicoloured sleigh bells were attached to the hem and made cacophonous noise whenever Ibiki moved.

It was the work of a mind more twisted than Gai’s and probably could be used to cause all of Konoha’s enemies to either laugh themselves to death or try to gouge their eyes out with whatever rusty, blunt object was nearby.

Ibiki glared harder. No-one stopped rolling on the floor.

“I would like to speak to Umino Iruka,” he finally growled out.

“Careful, Iruka-sensei!” Raidou cackled. “He might lock you in a room with that thing!”

Biting on his hand to keep from sniggering too loudly, Iruka followed the disgruntled T.I. specialist out. “How—how may help you, Morino-san?” He managed to get out once they were in a small room, amazingly keeping most of the laughter out of his voice.

“Undo this genjutsu, now.”

Iruka controlled his face as best as he could, trying to get it to look serious and respectful. “I didn’t put a genjutsu on you, Morino-san. Perhaps asking Hyuuga-san or Hatake-san to…help with your…” he snickered before he could stop himself. “Excuse me, Hyuuga-san or Hatake-san to help with that.”

“It’s your chakra. You remove it.”

“I told you, Morino-san, I haven’t put a genjutsu on you.” Iruka gave the man his most sincere look—which was probably not as sincere as he would liked to have looked, due to the snickers.

Ibiki’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Then what did you do?”

Iruka tsked. “I think it might be more of a matter of what you did.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you had stayed out of the teacher’s lounge and followed clear, simple instructions, I doubt that you would be in this predicament.” Iruka smiled sweetly as the tokubetsu jounin’s forehead darkened.

“Would you care to repeat that?”

“Now Morino-san, I know your hearing is just fine. But perhaps you should have your eyesight examined. I seem to remember a large sign in the teacher’s lounge that said the treats on the table were only for the teaching and janitorial staff of the academy and anyone else who took them would have to just face the consequences.”

“You jutsued the cookies?” Ibiki asked slowly, still looking enormously annoyed.

Iruka let his smile get sweeter. “I never said that.”

Ibiki loomed over him, making full use of the fact that he was larger than Iruka. “Fix this,” he said softly. “Whatever you did, fix this.”

“I’m sorry, Morino-san, but I can’t.”

The bobbles on the atrocity quivered dangerously. “What?”

Iruka bit back a giggle. “The only way to not suffer ill effects was to go to a classroom and expose yourself to about twenty-five sources of partially-trained chakra within half an hour of consuming the treats and staying there for more than two hours.” He put his innocent face back on. “Other than that, you simply have to wait twenty-four hours until the effects wear off by themselves.”

“I cannot interrogate our guests looking like this.”

“I’m sorry, but I already told you that I can’t remove it. Maybe next time, you’ll stay out of places you don’t belong and read the instructions on the sign.”

Ibiki glared.

Iruka smiled.

Ibiki glared harder.

“Have a nice day, Morino-san,” Iruka waved and walked out of the small room, chuckling to himself as he left. Really, Ibiki looked utterly ridiculous like—

A large, heavily scarred caught Iruka’s arm and yanked him back. Iruka only just managed not to stab Ibiki with his kunai.

“You need to figure out how to remove this—”

“Morino-san! First, let go of me! Second, you try something like that again, and I won’t stop myself from stabbing you! Third, why the hell aren’t you making the most of your situation? You could be using your…outfit to your advantage!”

“I fail to see how this could be used to my ‘advantage’.”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “Please. All you have to do is steal a few more treats from the teacher’s lounge, put some twinkly lights up in your interrogation rooms, serve each prisoner one cookie, wait about an hour, and then go in and interrogate the hell out of them.”

Ibiki blinked. “What?”

“One cookie only. That will have them confessing all their naughty and nice deeds over the year. Two cookies…well, you know the results of that.” Iruka smirked.

Another hard glare.

Iruka beamed angelically. “Is that all, Morino-san?”

The large man studied him for a moment. “If this works, perhaps you would be good enough to offer up some…suggestions for some other techniques to use.”

“Only if you buy me dinner. Good dinner, not something cheap.”

The corner of Ibiki’s mouth twitched. “But only if this works. If not…I’m going to make you pay for this.”

“It’ll work. You can pick me up from the Mission Room after my shift; I’m done at six-thirty. Now if you are quite finished, I do have work to do and you have some prisoners to extract information from.”

Iruka didn’t let the evil smile cover his face until after he had left the room. That had been surprisingly easy to get Ibiki to take him out on that date. The Interrogator was never going to know what hit him.

Iruka was making his own Christmas cheer. And Ibiki was going to be under his tree this year.

x Fin x

No Way, No Wa-a-ay!

Sat, 26 Dec 2009 08:24:40 GMT

Routine

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Shinichirō Watanabe’s Samurai Champloo and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summary: The morning ritual might need some adjusting.

Author’s Note: Written for Strailo. Possible out-of characterness, smut, and lots of foul language. Apologising now if I offend anyone!

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 26 December 2009

Rating: NC-17

Mugen would never admit it—even on the pains of death—but watching Jin going through his morning katas and routine was like watching porn. Really, really, really ritualised and strange porn, but porn, nevertheless.

It probably had to do with the fact he usually did it topless.

Not that Mugen ever watched or cared or noticed or anything.

He just thought it was funny how the old prude could go out and get every dirty old man and every girl hot under the collar and dripping below the waist by stripping off a piece of clothing and—despite his so-called distaste—the guy did it absolutely every morning.

Mugen was beginning to think the guy was an exhibitionist or something.

Ah, well. What the prig of a ronin did in his spare time was no concern of Mugen’s. If nothing else, he was getting a free show every morning, if he felt like getting up (if they were in an inn) or rolling over (if they were roughing it).

Mugen adjusted himself and stuck his littlest finger into his ear to clean it out, a picture of casual laziness as Mr Tightass rinsed off his sweat. The water droplets clung to the lean pale muscles and damn did prissy-pants look good wet.

Jin gave Mugen a distasteful look as he crossed the courtyard back to the inn. “Are you going to insist on bringing your disgusting habits with you every morning you watch me?”

Mugen picked something out of his teeth. “Yeah.”

Thin eyebrows twitched downwards, pinching the forehead slightly. Jin was never one for expressing things with his face other than distaste and disinterest, but Mugen had started to get the whole provoking thing down to an art; forcing Jin’s slender face to show more emotions took some effort, but he could now get annoyance, anger, disgust, and grudging respect to all make an appearance.

“Uncultured monkey,” Jin muttered.

“Got sumthin’ ta say to me, pretty boy?”

“I called you an uncultured monkey, but I think I should reconsider that. Monkeys occasionally groom themselves.”

Mugen flicked his sword in the ronin’s general direction. “That’s gonna cost you your smallest fingers.”

Another haughty glare. “You couldn’t even take money from a dead man.”

“You’d prob’ly try ta ask him if it was okay first.”

The exchange of words was slowly becoming a morning ritual, almost as much as watching Jin going through those silly katas. They would insult each other and words would lead to a swords clashing and Fuu waking up and shrieking that they were still under her command and they should stop right now!

The morning fights were almost as good as a morning wank, Mugen had decided.

And there was always the added bonus that Jin usually didn’t bother with getting fully dressed before attacking.

Yeah, it was a good way to start the day.

This particular morning they ended up with one of Mugen’s geta braced in Jin’s firm stomach and Jin’s wakizabi stabbing holes into Mugen’s coat and shirt, scraping his side threateningly.

“Do you…do you surrender?” Jin’s breath was heavy and slightly laboured from the morning exertion.

“What, pretty boy, givin’ up already?” Mugen wheezed, ignoring the fact that he was breathing hard for more reasons than just fighting.

Dark eyes narrowed further. “I was…giving you a chance to die honourably.”

“Who wants ta be honourable?” Mugen surged forwards slightly and pulled a fast one, slanting his mouth over Jin’s tight one.

The ronin yanked back violently, almost stumbling.

Mugen pressed his advantage and swung forwards haphazardly. Jin responded almost too late and he had a few more close calls before he started to return to the rhythm of the fight.

Mugen—later, when he looked back on it—would notice that something shifted in that fight. Something nebulous and subtle in the attitude had occurred.

He would only come to that realisation later—at the moment, he had to be much more concerned with the fact that Jin had just shredded his jacket and ripped a few new holes in his shirt.

In revenge, Mugen went for the ties on those skinny hips that held the hakama up.

“STOP! STOP! What are you two DOING?!” Fuu’s strident voice rang out. When they didn’t immediately stop, she resorted to throwing fermenting plums at them from the tree in the corner of the yard.

“No fighting! You still owe me, so no fighting!” The girl danced in aggravation.

The innkeeper descended on them, eyes flaming. “Look it this mess!” He screeched, drowning out Fuu.

“Ah, well—” she tried to explain, but didn’t get anything more out because the innkeeper wouldn’t let her finish. He ranted and raved and waved his thick arms around wildly.

Jin, in the meantime, was looking disgruntled as he held his hakama up. Mugen was pleased to note that while he didn’t get close enough to actually cut the ties, he had definitely done some damage to them and minimal damage to those pasty tiny hips. The hakama was only being held up by one side and a thread on the other. If Mugen was really looking, he might have been able to see the top of the fundoshi that Jin wore.

“And you!” The innkeeper spun and pointed accusingly at Mugen. “Starting fights here! You nearly destroyed my water jugs, you good for nothing!”

Fuu jumped in before Mugen could say anything. “We’ll clean it up; I promise. It’ll look as good as new by the time we’re done! Better!”

The beady little eyes glared at the two of them—Jin had slipped inside when the man had started his tirade against Mugen—and he scowled. “This place had BETTER be sparkling by the time I come back out here at noon!” He snarled. “Or else I’ll get the authorities here!” He clomped off.

Fuu glared at him.

Mugen flicked a particularly annoying booger in the retreating innkeeper’s mass.

When Jin came back out, Fuu made him start scrubbing the worn flagstones on the other side of the courtyard from Mugen. She muttered the entire time, alternately throwing glares at them.

Jin looked stupid, down on his knees and trying to get up stains from previous centuries. It amused Mugen to no end and—just because he could—he threw innuendo and insults at the ronin at random intervals.

He smirked slightly to himself as one piece of double entendre about kissing made those pale cheeks flush slightly. He had learned the mouth-to-mouth thing from a prostitute during his pirating days; apparently, she was correct about the erotic power it held over other people, particularly over the ‘higher’ class.

He bet that Jin had never had his lips ever touched by another pair, and that made Mugen all the more in control of the situation.

He gloried in the moment.

Later that afternoon, after they had cleaned the pathetic courtyard better than it had ever been cleaned in its entire existence and Fuu reluctantly went off to waitress at the nearby restaurant, Mugen wandered in to the forest behind the inn. He didn’t want to see the inn any more than he had to at this point, and he couldn’t find that prat to annoy, so the only thing to do was to find a nice shady spot to nap in.

He stepped into a clearing and there was the priggish asshole, doing his little erotic routine.

He had his gi on this time, though.

Pity.

Jin spun in a smooth arc, arm coming down in the ritualised block—at least, that’s what Mugen assumed it was. It wouldn’t be much use in a real fight.

The ronin paused slightly when he saw Mugen causally standing next to a tree. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

“Nope.”

He finished the kata and glared.

“Lookit these holes.” Mugen poked his hand through a shredded section of his shirt. “You ruined my shirt. It was my favourite one.”

A thin eyebrow arched. “You mean the one that you scorched trying to put out a fire last week? And spilled miso soup on yesterday? Threw in the pig shed earlier—”

“It’s my favourite because it has a history or character or whatever that shit is called. You owe me a new one.”

“If I see any dirty rags horrid enough to be wore by you, I’ll get it for you.”

A few more well-placed insults, and the two were fighting again, blades out and foliage damaged.

This time the stand-still happened when Jin got his blade stuck in a tree, right next to Mugen’s throat and Mugen had his sword jammed up between them.

The moment was eerily similar to the morning’s fight and the air was suddenly thick.

This time, it seemed like Jin was going to try to be the one to throw things off and his mouth awkwardly came down on top of Mugen’s.

It was painfully obvious that Jin had little to no idea as to what he was doing. And there was no way that Mugen was going to let the bastard control things like that.

He pushed forwards and nearly upset the taller man, but Jin regained his footing quickly and knocked them both to the ground, letting go of his sword and bumping Mugen’s off to the side.

Mugen tried to roll them so he was on top, but all it did was bring his hips up and into Jin’s stomach.

Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Especially when that prim mercenary made some not-so-prim noises and opened his mouth in surprise.

Mugen was okay with controlling things from the bottom. And since he knew how to use his tongue, it wasn’t hard to dominate the kiss from the position that he was in.

Jin fought back by pinning the tattoo wrists above Mugen’s shaggy head and biting the invading tongue.

A parry and another hip roll—he knew that Jin had a sexuality under that that little ‘I’m-just-a-prissy-pretty-boy’ attitude—and Mugen was back in the fight. He worked a leg free, shook off a geta, and used his leg to get some leverage.

Jin shifted his grip so both wrists could be contained by one slim hand and used the free one to rake his nails down Mugen’s side and up under the tatted shirt.

Mugen licked the back of Jin’s teeth and tightened his leg over a bony hip.

Jin pressed his erection further between Mugen’s thighs and scraped a nipple.

Things were starting to narrow down to a few key points—things like where Jin’s lean body crushed down, the messy mingling of lips, teeth, and tongues, that surprisingly adventurous hand, the heat in their groins that was getting hotter with each cloth-covered thrust—and Mugen wasn’t going to lose focus by himself. If he was going to have a little death, the ronin had damn well be following him into the afterlife.

He thrust up harder, grinding, and renewed his attack on Jin’s mouth. He used his leg to force Jin to match his rhythm. He still couldn’t get his wrists free, so he would have to do without them.

Next time. Next time, he was going to pin Jin to the floor and show him what hands could really do.

Abruptly, Jin yanked his mouth away and buried his face in Mugen’s throat, crying out softly as his hips jerked and stuttered.

The smell of hair and sweat and Jin hit the former criminal’s nose and Mugen’s back arched sharply. He slammed into ecstasy and surged forwards, teeth snapping.

Neither man moved as they returned from the high. Jin’s hot pants puffed over the base of Mugen’s neck while Mugen slide his arms out of the lax grip.

“Uncultured swine,” Jin finally muttered, not moving. “You didn’t have the decency to let me remove my hakama so it would not get stained.”

“’Snot like you let me get out of my pants, fucker.”

“You’re used to living in your own swill. It’s not the same for you.”

“Eat shit, candy ass.”

Jin smirked coldly and adjusted his glasses. “I’d be more worried about the future state of your ass, if I were you.”

Mugen snorted. “You ain’t man enough to take me.”

A single eyebrow arched. “You seem terribly confident.”

Before Mugen could gather his wits properly, Jin yanked the coat and shirt up and around Mugen’s arms. As Mugen kicked out, he felt the weight on top of him shift—

Shit. The thud of Mugen’s sword as it stabbed the cloth into the ground rang out.

“Asshole!” Mugen spat out, breathing hard, currently unable to untangle his arm.

“Do you wish to reconsider your earlier comments?” Jin asked, a little too silkily.

It was the pinned man who smirked this time. “Fucker,” he taunted.

Jin’s eyes gleamed. “I knew you would need it beaten into you.”

“You couldn’t beat a butterfly.” Mugen continued the jeering remarks, ignoring the fire in his veins. Perhaps if he pushed the right buttons hard enough, he could find out just how good the other man was.

As Jin leaned over him, Mugen began to plot how this might become part of the morning ritual.

x Fin x

What Really Makes The Difference Between All Dead And Living Things

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 04:43:14 GMT

The Rules

Summary: Kakashi finds the Rules harder and harder to follow

Author’s Note: Contains spoilers for events up until chapter 450. Possible out-of characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 12 November 2009

Rating: T

The first and most important rule was you never ever picked someone you knew or might get to know later. Not only did this lead to even more awkward and tense social situations—and heaven knows that you’ll have enough of those without this making things worse—but it meant that you were setting yourself up for some pretty serious disappointment if you acted on them and things didn’t work out. You had no room in your life for emotions like disappointment.

The second rule was never ever pick a ninja. The last thing you wanted was to find the person you had picked dead or mutilated or in a bad way. Those sort of psychological scars tended to fuck you up even worse and leave you hesitant to try again, thus causing more stress and tension to build up, and that lead to mistakes and death and failure.

The third rule was never pick someone you might have to kill someday. This meant no-one from a foreign village or anyone who you got funny feelings about. Nothing said ‘mental scarring’ like having to kill the star of your masturbation fantasies.

These rules didn’t leave a large pool to pick from. Many ANBU members turned to civilians, but the war and destruction of Konoha by the Nine-Tails put an end to much of that when so many civilians were killed and they had to face the dead bodies of those that helped them—unknowingly—relieve stress.

Icha Icha and other such novels gained immense popularity afterwards. There was no chance of meeting a fictional character and they would remain perfect and whole forever, thus making the ideal thing for masturbation.

Kakashi had been a pretty strict follower of the rules—he had seen what happened to Monkey and Rooster, who hadn’t and paid the price—until one day he was returning home from a mission to the Grass country.

It was the laughter that had caught his attention. He looked to see what had made such a joyous, happy sound and that’s when he saw him.

He was surrounded by a variety of chunins and tokujous and genins. It looked like everyone was congratulating him and patting his back and musing the fluffy ponytail. From the way he kept touching his vest, Kakashi got the feeling that he’d just been promoted.

He had brown skin, brown eyes, and brown hair—it almost seemed that everything about him was brown; even the scar across his nose was brown. But it was a warm, inviting brown; not a dried-blood, death brown.

He looked so…so…so happy. Kakashi actually paused for a moment—even though his feet hurt and he was tired and the Hokage was waiting for him—just because such delight was a foreign thing in his world. He wondered what it was like, being that happy.

He hadn’t intended to use the newly-appointed chunin—violation of Rules Two and Three—but Kakashi had always had a weakness for brown hair and all that delight pushed Kakashi’s solo release in a new direction.

He realised that he was in trouble when the chunin started to make regular appearances in his fantasies. Determined that he would not fall prey to the mistake of disobeying Rules Two and Three, he turned his attention almost obsessively to things like Icha Icha.

And it worked.

Until he was walking home with his groceries and he happened to walk by Ichiraku and there was that chunin, buying the demon kid ramen. Ramen! And he didn’t mind doing it, either! In fact, as the kid bounded off loudly, the brown ponytail only shook in affectionate exasperation and sighed as he emptied his pocket book to cover the kid’s enormous tab.

The sheer…kindness that shown through the simple and clearly familiar act hit Kakashi just as hard as the joy had in the chunin’s laughter. How could anyone be so kind in this hard, brutal world? Especially to something like the demon container!

Rule Two and Three went out the window that evening.

He went back to his Icha Icha because it was safe, but it didn’t seem to stop the main character from morphing, from time to time, from a busty blonde who was good with her hands to someone who looked suspiciously like the chunin and was strangely kind and happy.

Kakashi realised that he had been too lenient on himself when—after the Hokage forced him to retire from the Black Op to take on some snotty little brats—he went to pick up a mission to pay for some bills before he was stuck watching gennins trying to do D-ranked ones and there, right there, sat The Chunin.

Fuck. Now he had broken the most sacred and cardinal rule of them all: He had broken Rule Number One.

The Chunin didn’t seem to notice his off-putting behaviours. He only smiled a bright, polite smile. “What kind of mission would you like, Jounin-san?”

Kakashi knew that voice would be making an appearance tonight during his nightly relaxation routine—whether he wanted it to or not.

When he handed over his identification papers for the Chunin to look over, the brown eyes did a double-take on the name. “Hatake Kakashi? The Hatake Kakashi?”

Kakashi waited for the hero worship and the awkward stuttered questions to start.

The Chunin leaned forwards. “You’re going to be Naruto-kun’s jounin sensei! He told me about your test. I can’t tell you how happy I am that he passed. It means so much to him.”

Kakashi blinked, the words only filtering in as an afterthought as he stared at the suddenly very warm and very genuine smile in front of him. It wasn’t helping his shell-shock that the Chunin was talking about the demon kid and not…anything else.

He was so, so very screwed.

He tried going at different times, but it was like the Chunin was waiting for him, so he could ambush Kakashi and get status reports on Naruto. He’d ask Kakashi to join him for ramen so they could swap notes. He’d see him in the street and wave. He’d call out to Kakashi as he was buying fruit and insisted that Kakashi call him ‘Iruka-sensei’ and nothing more formal than that.

Dedication of that level was not something Kakashi had been prepared to deal with. It made things worse at night. He could only imagine what it would be like, to be so very important to someone, just because he was someone worth caring about. And the idea of being that someone didn’t help the nightly routine, at all.

Then he nominated the surprisingly scrappy little brats for the Chunin Examination. The Chunin—Iruka—spoke up, way out of line and with little regard for that fact. No matter what Kakashi said to try and put him off, the Chunin only got more vocal and madder. He refused to back down and it wasn’t until the Hokage said something that Iruka unwillingly shut up—more, Kakashi felt, out of respect for the Hokage than the pecking order or the opinions given.

Defiance should NOT have been that hot. Kakashi barely made it back to his little apartment before things got out of control and he did something ridiculously stupid, like kissed that hard, angry mouth.

The fact that he was worried about kissing the Chunin and not so much about other things made him think that maybe he really go to those therapy sessions that were Highly Recommended for ANBU and the much smaller group of Former ANBU. He was going beyond breaking The Rules; he was moving into realms that were probably unhealthy for anyone, much less someone like him.

There was only two things that could be done in this situation: Avoid The Chunin as much as humanely possible and bury himself deep within Icha Icha and never leave it. He would get over this all and return to the safe existence of before.

Denial could go a very long way. It worked for Gai, didn’t it, now.

Things probably would have worked out in the end, but then Sound and Sand attacked. It took everything that Kakashi had not to rush out to see if his Chunin was safe. The relief he felt when he saw that brown scarred face—out of harm's way, down protecting the civilians and students—was indescribable. He almost touched that smooth-looking face, just to reassure himself.

But it would be too damaging.

And he didn’t think Iruka would take kindly to such a gesture.

So he didn’t and after he mourned the Sandaime—yet one more he had outlived—life got busy. There was the introduction of the new hokage and the discovery that he wasn’t worth any of his students. There were hundreds of new missions to take and missions were easy. He didn’t have to think about how he failed—yet again—and how The Chunin didn’t want anything more to do with him, now that he had lost Sasuke and neglected Naruto and let the blond boy leave with Jiraiya-sama.

Kakashi went to work being a tool and tried to go back into the safety that the Rules provided.

But like anything, once one has ventured into forbidden territory, it’s hard to stay within the fences of Acceptability. When he was tired and drained—which happened more than he cared to admit—he’d fall back on Iruka because it was easy and Iruka was…dedicated. Happy. Kind. Defiant. Something to fight for.

Iruka was everything he was not.

And the relaxation that settled into his body afterwards was always better than if he used Icha Icha or went for a mindless wank. Somehow, it was almost…more satisfying when he used The Chunin.

He went back to avoiding The Chunin. It was the least that he could do if he couldn’t always follow the Rules. Not that it was hard, considering he’d all but wore the white mask again.

And then Naruto returned and turned everything upside down again—as Naruto was wont to do. Suddenly, there was no escaping The Chunin again. He’d train Naruto and then Iruka would be there, telling Naruto how much he had grown and maybe that Naruto should pay for the ramen. Then a brown eye would wink at Kakashi as Naruto yelped in protest and Kakashi would find himself in deeper than before.

Everything changed when Pein attacked. He saw the Akatsuki member there, standing in front of his Chunin, with his hand rising up to kill. Kakashi would not let Iruka be killed in front of him. If Iruka was to die, he wanted it to be of old age or far, far away from him so he never would have to see those brown eyes cloudy and empty. His last memory of Iruka was not going to be of his broken body.

Pein was probably the hardest person he had ever fought before. He gave it his all and more, finally feeling that he had served his village to his complete ability. He had fought, and he was going to die on the field, close to home, doing what he did best. Most importantly, he had given Iruka a chance to live on and he never would have to worry about the Rules again.

Kakashi was slightly surprised to only see his father in the blackness, but then his father said that he couldn’t move on to join his mother and Kakashi vaguely wondered what he would have to wait for before he could move on.

Not that it particularly bothered him. He had a lot of unresolved conversations with his father and now he had all the time in the world to get everything he wanted said out there.

He had forgotten how nice it was to just sit and talk to someone important. His father seemed to relax when he found out that Kakashi understood why he had done what he had done.

Kakashi had finally gotten the conversation to a place where he could ask his father his take on the Rules and what could be done to stop oneself from breaking them all the time when his father looked out into the darkness. He told Kakashi it seemed that his time hadn’t come and that he would wait with his mother on the other side.

Before Kakashi could say anything else, blackness swam over him and obscured everything. Moments later, when he got his eye open, he found himself looking at the ruins of Konoha and Akimichi Chouji.

Apparently, he wasn’t dead any more.

Apparently, Naruto had kicked a few of Pein’s butts.

Apparently, Iruka was still alive.

The fact that The Chunin had survived eased knots Kakashi hadn’t realised that had been tied. It made him feel like he had done something right, for once.

The next day, he was walking to the Memorial Stone—the whole nomination and Danzo thing had left him with a deep and burning urge to talk to those who had left him behind—when he heard that familiar voice calling out to him.

Iruka caught up to him and scratched the side of his nose as politely thanked Kakashi for not only saving his life, but making sure Naruto got home safely.

As the Chunin chattered on, Kakashi suddenly knew what he had to do.

He had already lived passed the usual life expectancy of most ninjas. Chances were that he wouldn’t make it much further—he had already died one and came close too many other times to count. It was only a matter of time.

And for the first time, he might have a choice in the matter when it happened.

He had spent so many—too many—years and nights on The Chunin and he was tired of it. He didn’t even know what the brown man tasted like.

Iruka was so going to kill him for this.

“Kakashi-sensei? What…?” The Chunin stuttered when Kakashi turned sharply and walked Iruka back against a wall in a deserted alleyway, stopping only once he had planted his hands on the wall on either side of the Chunin.

A small part of his battle-worn consciousness noted that Iruka was palming a kunai, but he decided having Iruka kill him wasn’t the worst way to go. It’d serve him right, too, considering how many of the Rules he had broken.

He pulled down his mask and before the Chunin could blink, he moved in.

It was clear within the first two seconds that Kakashi had been missing out for the last how many years. Iruka’s slack and surprised mouth was delicious. The noises coming from said mouth were addictive—even if they were muffled and shocked. The warmth that he could taste there was deep and consuming.

The nervous battle part of his brain noticed that Iruka had dropped his weapon.

Good. That meant Kakashi could have a couple of seconds of full body contact before the Chunin gathered his wits.

The moment the strong body started moving, Kakashi pulled back. He pulled his mask up and wondered why Iruka hadn’t killed him yet.

He saw that brown hand move and he braced himself for impact. He knew that he could dodge it easily, but figured that he probably had it coming.

Iruka—surprisingly—didn’t punch him. He instead grabbed Kakashi’s ear and—snarling out a few well-chosen insults—dragged Kakashi down the street.

Maybe Iruka fancied killing jounins in the privacy of his apartment instead out in public where one of his students might witness it.

It would be Kakashi’s luck that he’d been masturbating to the one psychotic mass murder in the village for the past couple of years.

Iruka shoved Kakashi into his tiny little flat and glared at him. “Do you think,” he growled, “that kissing me just like that is going to endear you to me? Do you think that it’s funny?”

Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t think it’s funny.”

“Then explain yourself.”

…Okay, that firm and hard demanding voice was not going to help matters. Kakashi also got the feeling that was going to show up a lot in the near future—assuming that he lived that long, that was.

“I’m attracted to you?” It would have been nice if that had come out like a statement and not a question, but Kakashi decided that it was better than what could have come out of his mouth.

Iruka’s eyes narrowed further.

Kakashi’s battle senses went wild and he talked fast, figuring he only had a few moments left on this earth. “I nearly died—I did die—and…it seemed like a shame, dying and never having kissed you.”

Iruka blinked. “What?”

Strange, all the murderous anger seemed to be gone. “I’m attracted to you and I thought maybe I should kiss you before I die?”

“You’re attracted to me.”

“Yes?” Kakashi hazard. ANBU training hadn’t prepared him for this. Was there a certain protocol that one was supposed to follow when confessing attraction? He highly doubted that the Icha Icha-standard of groping and wild sex—while fun and good and written by a true literary genius—weren’t exactly the most realistic way to go.

And what did one do after said confession? Were there rules for how one should die afterwards? Did one try not to bleed everywhere or go for maximum blood splurtage?

“For how long?”

Ten years, eight months, two weeks, three days, thirteen hours—“Too long,” Kakashi said immediately.

“And you just thought to tell me this now?” Big, brown eyes blinked again. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Because of The Rules.”

“What?”

“I had good reasons.” Of course Iruka wouldn’t know about The Rules; he had never been in ANBU.

Frankly, Kakashi would rather not explain The Rules to Iruka; while Iruka was not a genius, he was smart and would put two and two together rather quickly.

Kakashi—having come to the conclusion that Iruka was not going to kill him—had decided that he was rather fond of living and would like to stay in this state just a little bit longer.

“And…?” Iruka glared at him. “That’s it? You’re not going to do anything more? Just kiss me and tell me that you like me and then go on your merry way?”

“…Yes? Is there a standard that I should be following?”

Bright, surprised laughter bubbled out of Iruka and it reminded Kakashi of what pulled him to the teacher in the first place.

“Normally, you ask someone out first,” Iruka finally managed to get out between chuckles.

“Out? Like to a mission-out or to ramen-out? Or are we talking about cherry-blossom-walks-out?” Kakashi asked carefully. He only had Asuma and Kurenai, Icha Icha, Sakura, and Gai to go by here; none of the four were exactly reliable sources for this sort of thing.

“Like ‘on a date’ out.” Iruka was smiling a small, contained smile.

“Ah.”

Iruka was looking expectant. Kakashi wondered why.

“Let me get this straight,” the chunin finally said slowly, as if he talked fast Kakashi wouldn’t understand him any more. “You have no qualms about kissing me in the middle of the street and telling me that you’re attracted to me, but you take issue with asking me out on a date?”

“I didn’t kiss you in the middle of the street,” Kakashi muttered, a bit sullenly. “And I don’t know anything about dating for real.”

Iruka shook his head. “Kakashi—I can drop the ‘sensei’ part, can’t I?—would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

“Dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Here?”

“I don’t see why not—unless there’s a restaurant you’d rather go to instead.”

“Why?”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “So we can go on a date and see if I like you back.”

“…You don’t know if you like me? I thought that you considered us to be friends.”

“You’re an idiot.” The insult was said with a surprising amount of affection. Kakashi wondered if that meant something. “And I’m beginning to think that dinner’s going to be a moot point.”

“I thought you said wanted to have dinner.” He wished Iruka would make up his mind. Now he could see why The Rules said that you should avoid—

“Kakashi.”

“Yes?”

“I think I could be attracted to you if”—here Iruka grinned a roguish grin—“if you take off that mask and kiss me again, properly.”

“I didn’t do it right before?” What the hell? He thought he was decent at kissing!

“No. Before, you see, I didn’t get a chance to kiss you back.” Oh. OH! “And we should probably try that out before I make short work of that vest you’re wearing.”

…Okay, when had he left reality and started a fantasy?

“Fantasy? You’ve thought about this before?”

And there was another voice that was going to make an appearance tonight! Where had Iruka learned to purr like that?

“Well, of course.” Of COURSE Kakashi had thought about it. Denial or not, he’d been thinking about it for the past ten years, eight months, two weeks, three days—

Iruka, it seemed, had gotten tired of waiting. He closed the distance between the two of them and put his hands at the top of Kakashi’s mask. He waited until Kakashi garbled out something that could pass as an affirmative, and then the mask was around Kakashi’s neck and his mouth was on Kakashi’s.

This kiss was a thousand times better than the first one—a million times better. To think that he had been willing to settle for so much less!

The Rules were right—fantasy had nothing on reality.

Iruka pulled back slightly. “So. Dinner.”

Kakashi yanked him forwards again.

The Rules were now no longer applicable in his life, but he had the feeling that he was going to be better off without them.

After all, he had Iruka and he didn’t need them any more.

x Fin x

It's Something I Couldn't Do

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 18:15:39 GMT

Kid Fears

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Yasuhiro Nightow’s Trigun and Trigune Maximum and is made entirely for enjoyment. All lyrics quoted are property of the Indigo Girls. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summery: Nicholas reflects on his fears

Author’s Note: Written for Athame. Way too influenced by the Indigo Girl’s song of the same name. Possible out-of-characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 31 October 2009

Rating: T

No matter how old you got, things still could go bump in the night and keep you up until dawn. Old demons, new demons, life was almost simpler when your fears were of monsters and the noises of the night. It was like what that old Earth song said—‘what would you give for your kid fears?’

When you got older, your fears eased into something manageable. They were still there, but they were easier, somehow.

But it didn’t stop the demons from coming back. Just because you were older and you knew more and knew how to handle fear didn’t make them go away. They lingered. They circled. They looked for openings, weaknesses, anything that would let them strike you where it hurt most.

He lit a cigarette and looked out at the cold sand as it blew in the night breeze. Something had fallen somewhere in the hotel and his demons were back, breathing down his neck and making it impossible to go back to sleep.

He wanted to blame the time of year—old Earth tradition from the die-hards, including costumes and such—but knew that it wasn’t really the case. Things were just too close to the surface right now and it meant that he probably was going to be losing out on a lot of sleep in the near future.

He blew out a cloud of nicotine-scented smoke. His childhood—or lack thereof—was hovering close to the surface tonight. Too much to think about and what he had done and what he had become.

‘Any sin will due’, indeed.

He felt raw and he had to fight not to jump at every noise.

Still, he reflected, for all of his fears and ever-present demons, he didn’t feel the same bone-chilling terror as he did as a child.

Someone stepped out of their room. A few moments later, they walked over.

“May I join you?” Vash sounded surprisingly quiet and not nearly as annoyingly happy as usual.

Nicholas shrugged. Company might not be a bad thing, not tonight when the past seemed to be making more noise than it normally did.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Vash said after a few moments, stretching out in his oversized, grey sleepwear.

“No.”

“I was, then the upstairs couple got…noisy. Now I can’t get back to sleep.”

Nicholas made a noncommittal noise and exhaled another cloud of smoke. Just because he didn’t mind having another living being next to him didn’t mean that he felt particularly like engaging with them.

Vash fell silent and it seemed that he understood the need to know that one wasn’t alone in the vastness, but didn’t need to fill the air with chatter.

“Do you ever wish you could go back?” Vash asked suddenly.

“Go back where?” Nicholas finally replied.

“I don’t know…back to when things were…easier. Back when you were a kid.”

He let out a small snort. “Things were never easier when I was young.”

Vash was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry. I had forgotten.”

The priest waved off the apology. “Do you? Wish you could go back, I mean.”

“Sometimes. Others…” Vash’s voice faded for a moment. “Other times…I remember the fear. The fear of the others around me, the fear of the dark…” He gave a small, unconvincing laugh. “You know, the silly things. The kid fears.”

“The scariest things.”

“What?”

“Kid fears. They are the scariest things out there.” Vash blinked. Nicholas tried to clarify. “Do things now scare you as much as they did when you were little?”

Slowly, the blond head shook.

“Well, then.”

Silence stretched out. He crushed his cigarette and then lit another, hands feeling empty without the familiar stick.

“We should get some sleep,” Vash finally said reluctantly. “Or Meryl will dismember us for being stupid.”

“You go. I’m going to stay out here for a little while longer.” There was no way he was going to lock himself in a tiny room by himself, not with everything else. There was no telling what things would come up if he did.

“Would…would you rather come inside with me instead? You don’t have to stay out here by yourself.”

He forced himself not to read into the offer. It was, after all, Vash he was talking to.

But the idea of having someone else’s breathing to distract him from the monsters of the past held a certain amount of appeal, even if that was all he got from the bargain.

He shrugged. “Sure.” He took one last long drag on his cigarette, then crushed it. He followed the now-tense lines of Vash’s back to the room and wondered what had put the other man so on edge.

Vash didn’t turn on the overhead light, opting instead for the small bedside lamp. He stood there, looking awkward and nervous.

“I don’t want to think about the past tonight,” he suddenly said abruptly.

Nicholas waited, his priestly instincts telling him that Vash had more to say, but needed time to find the words.

“I just…would you…I don’t…” Vash seemed to give up and he took a few quick steps forwards, right into Nicholas’s personal space.

Before he could step back, Vash’s slightly chapped lips brushed against his own.

“I don’t want to remember things tonight,” the blond murmured, sounding only a little unsure. “Help me not?”

Nicholas stood still for a moment. He hadn’t really expected that. Not from the legendary gunman.

He snorted softly. “‘Are you on fire?’” He muttered.

“What?” Vash looked confused.

“Nothing.” He reached forwards and caught the grey shirt in his hand. “I’ll help you ignore the past if you return the favour.”

Vash followed the tugs towards the bed. “I can do that.”

Well, Nicholas reflected as he peeled off his jacket before grabbing at Vash again, this was certainly one way to forget his kid fears.

x Fin x

If You Need Me, Let Me Know

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 17:22:50 GMT

The Rescue of the Chocobo Princess from 2 Zombies, 3 Tentacle Monsters, and 1 Vampire

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Squaresoft’s (Square Enix) Final Fantasy VII and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summery: Reno’s night just got a little weirder.

Author’s Note: Written for H4t3dept. Filled with crack. Pure, unadulterated crack. Possible out-of-characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 31 October 2009

Rating: T

He wasn’t quite sure what happened, but suddenly, Elena had a mass of tentacles instead of limbs, Rude looked like he had just clawed his way out of a grave and was on the lookout for brains, and Tseng had fangs. Sharp, evil, made-for-blood-drinking fangs.

This didn’t bode well for Reno. Causally, he eased his electro-mag rod out of his holster and wondered where he could get his hands on some garlic.

He always knew that Tseng would sleep in a coffin.

Making a few choice decisions on the spur of the moment as to who posed as the most danger, he snapped his electro-mag rod across the Elena-Monster’s face, rationalising that the blood would distract the Rude-Zombie and the Tseng-Vampire while he escaped.

He only got a few tables away when he saw the most stunning thing he had ever seen in his life.

But the stunning being—who had hair like a prized gold chocobo—was being attacked by a tentacle monster that had huge breasts.

Reno was always one who wanted to rescue a princess—because someone that lovely could only be a princess—so he leapt into action. A few quick surprise jabs to the busty tentacle monster’s back later, he had created an opening for him and the Chocobo Princess to escape. Grabbing the strong wrist, he dragged them both out of the bar to a safer (and more private) spot.

The princess looked slightly befuddled. “Reno, what. The hell.”

Oh good, they didn’t have to waste time on introductions. That made things so much easier.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness,” Reno said grandly. “Those monsters won’t be coming after you for a while. I had ol’ Johnson”—he pattered his electro-mag rod—“set on full.”

The princess blinked slowly. “…O-kay?”

“Just doing my job.” He thought that he hit just the right amount of humility and professionalism there.

Now the Princess should give him a ‘thank you’ kiss (with some tongue, of course) and maybe even a ‘thank you’ grope…

“Reno, what are you talking about?”

…Or not. “The tentacle monster that was attacking you, of course.”

Another long stare. “Tentacle monster.”

He peered closely at the princess. That had sounded flat and slightly confused. Perhaps Tseng had worked his evil mind powers…? It wasn’t unheard of…better check the Chocobo Princess’s neck, just to be safe.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure that Tseng hasn’t worked his evil mind powers on you, of course.” The neck—inviting as it was—was clear. “He didn’t bite you on the thigh or something, did he?” It would be best to cover all the bases.

“Bite me…What were you drinking in there?”

“While I would love to go out for drinks with you, we have more important things to worry about!” He grabbed the princess and swung them around a corner, pressing them both up against the wall.

It seemed that the busty tentacle monster and the Elena-Monster had been joined by a Scarlet-tentacle monster—where were all these monsters coming from? Reno supposed that it didn’t really matter at this point, as they all seemed to be looking for something. Probably the Chocobo Princess and—consequently—him.

Well, it looked like the night’s adventure was just getting started.

First thing’s first. He had to get the Chocobo Princess to a safe spot. It wouldn’t do him any good if the monsters caught up to them (and he would then have no chance at seeing any action).

And now he had the zombies to worry about on top of it all—where had the Reeve zombie come from? Probably was attracted to the smell of all of Reno’s fine and incredible brains.

There would be no brain-eating tonight, not if Reno had his way. This was going to be an event of epic proportion.

He grabbed the Chocobo Princess again and raced down the milieu. He made sure that his weapon was easy to pull out of his holster as he dragged the other down the street after him.

He spotted the Tseng-Vampire and quickly shifted directions, which turned out to not be much better, as he could see the trio of tentacle monsters at the other end of the street.

Time to think fast!

It was, after all, what he was best at.

A quick survey of the street and he saw what he needed to keep the Princess safe. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but pleasant things could wait until there weren’t monsters tracking them.

“Sorry, Your Highness, but it’s for your own safety. You can thank me properly later!” And with that, Reno shoved the Chocobo Princess down a sewage pipe, slamming it shut.

Now he could face the monsters without worrying that the Princess would get hurt. It’d be easier to focus on the NOW important things and not the LATER important things.

Racing down the street, he pulled out his electro-mag rod and got ready to fight.

He decided to take out the zombies first—they were probably would be the easiest and zombies had annoy habit of popping up at the most inconvenient time when not dealt with immediately. Plus, they might bite a tentacle monster, and the idea of facing down a zombie tentacle monster was not an appealing one.

A few cure spells should do the trick.

Unfortunately, it didn’t go that smoothly.

Apparently, the zombies were in league with the tentacle monsters. He had barely engaged the zombies when the three monsters joined in, waving their appendages around.

The busty one had quite a punch.

And when had the Tseng-Vampire found them? Six against one was totally not fair odds.

His ‘thank you’ kiss had better been upgraded to a ‘thank you’—

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Tseng seemed to have returned to normal and he didn’t look impressed. “The hospital bills of yourself, Scarlet, Rude, Reeve, Elena, Miss Lockheart, and myself will be coming out of your next paycheque,” he said coolly. “As will the costs of damages to the Seventh Heaven Bar and the Water Systems. You are also forbidden to drink for the next six weeks and will be filling out everyone else’s paper work for the next month, as you won’t be on active duty.”

Reno blinked, realised what was happening, and tried to sit up. “Wait a second—”

Tseng hit the button that controlled the pain medications and Reno felt his whole body relax under the influence. “You’re lucky that’s all the punishment that you are going to get. But the alcohol restriction and desk duty is not my call; the doctor wants to make sure that they get all the malboro toxins out of your system so there would not be a…repeat performance.”

“What? Malboro toxins? I haven’t been around those creepy things in months!”

“Do you remember the beer they had to recall due to the attacks on the brewery by malboros in the north that tainted the water?” Tseng waited until he got a confirmation nod. “Apparently, one or two bottles got missed in the recall and you had one last night, hence all the…destruction. Apparently, the…hallucinations were quite…strong.”

Damn. So the Princess wasn’t real. That kinda sucked.

“Until the full effects have been understood, the doctor would like to keep your workload light and to have as few things interfering with your life as possible.”

Reno sighed. “Okay.” He hated desk duty.

“Oh,” Tseng looked over his shoulder just before he left. “You’ll also be getting a raise. It seems that the Rufus was rather…impressed with your fighting abilities, even under the influence and he felt such…talent should be rewarded. I will get you the proper paperwork later.”

Reno blinked. Well, at least something good was coming out of this all. Not that he’d really be seeing the results of the raise for a while.

He stared at the ceiling. He was bored.

And there were no hot nurses.

The sound of someone entering his room distracted him from counting the tiles above him for a third time. He glanced over and felt his eyes widen.

Cloud Strife stood in the doorway, looking cross and slightly uncomfortable. He nodded a greeting and then awkwardly sat down in the chair next to the bed.

Reno felt like rubbing his hands together in glee. He knew that he hadn’t made up the Chocobo Princess, he knew it!

He wondered if now would be a bad time to ask for his dues for saving him from all the monsters.

“What the hell were you thinking last night?” Cloud burst out, forgoing most of the inane chitchat.

Reno shrugged. “I thought you were being attacked. So I saved you.”

Cloud frowned. “Attacked by what?”

“You probably don’t really want the answer for that.”

“Did it have to involve you pushing me down a sewer pipe?”

“How else was I supposed to protect you?”

Cloud rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Do you know how long it took me to get rid of the stench?” He asked rhetorically. “What were you hoping to accomplish?”

“Well, I couldn’t watch you and fight at the same time, and as much as I would have loved to show off my battle prowness, it was easier to stick you somewhere that seemed safer.” Reno shrugged again. “Frankly, I was hoping for a kiss after all was said and done.”

“That’s it? A kiss?”

“Yeah. Maybe more, if you were feeling up to it.”

“Reno.”

“Well, you asked.”

“That is the worst proposition I’ve heard, and I’ve heard some real winners from a drunk Sephiroth.” Cloud scowled. “Don’t you think it would have been more effective to talk to me or get me drunk or something?”

“Where’s the action and adventure in that? But hey, if you’re up to it…nice shoes. Wanna fuck?”

“…I think it liked better when you were calling me ‘your highness’. Anyhow, you’re supposed to be healing.”

“Won’t be in here forever.”

“You can talk to me about that after you’re out of here.”

“Well, if you insist…” Reno smirked.

Apparently, he was going to get more than a kiss out of the Princess, after all.

He should get attacked by weird monsters more often.

x Fin x

I Know That Hearts Can Change

Fri, 15 May 2009 19:28:54 GMT

Crush, Deny, Vehicular Homicide

Summary: Kotetsu drops the bomb. Iruka flips out. Sequel to 'Smile', but can be read alone.

Author’s Note: Written for Kiterie. Alternate universe, possible out-of characterness,

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 15 May 2009

Rating: K+

Iruka stifled a yawn and pushed out another cart for the morning shelving shift. He was tired and couldn’t wait to get to get the word that work was over so he could punch out. His feet hurt and he wanted to go home.

He also was feeling edgy because as soon as work was done and as soon as he dropped off Kotetsu and Izumo, he’d have a full thirty-three hours, all to himself. There would be no volunteering or strange children with strange habits to worry about, and no work and no insane co-workers to stress him out. It was going to be just him, his laundry, and his new X-Men DVD set. There might be a little Naruto in that mix, but hopefully, not until his whites were done.

Slightly impatiently, he grabbed the last cart and shoved it towards its area. He heard Genma yelling that they were done and could they go now?

“Sign out,” Kakashi’s rich voice rang out and a few people cheered. “Iruka, that includes you!”

“I know,” Iruka called back, finishing up with the cart. He thought he felt Kakashi’s eyes lingering on him, but when he turned around, Kakashi was shutting down the terminals at the service desk and not looking his way at all.

He shook his head. He was starting to sound obsessed. Ever since Kakashi had started making a concerted effort not to be the Boss from the Ninth Circle of Hell, Iruka had become more aware of that single eye. Before, he could pass it off as Kakashi looking for a reason to make his life miserable, but now...he couldn’t think of a good reason for his manager’s close scrutiny.

Kakashi was waiting by the punch-out station, a patient expression his face. “Didn’t I tell you to sign out already?”

“I know, I know. You can’t punch out and leave until I do. I’m going, I’m going.” Iruka entered his employee number and logged himself out of the system. “See? I’m leaving.”

“Hmm. Good.” He heard Kakashi punching in his numbers, and then shutting the system down.

“How’s that volunteering thing going?” Kakashi asked as he followed him to the break room. At Iruka’s surprised glance, he elaborated. “Kurenai was talking about it earlier.”

Kurenai had a big mouth. “It’s going fine.”

“Now, what is it exactly that you’re volunteering for?” Kakashi, apparently, wasn’t done with being nosy.

“I’m tutoring at the community centre.” What was with this man and wanting to know every little detail of Iruka’s life? It was like if he couldn’t be an asshole, he was going to be a prying bastard. Iruka was starting to wonder which one was worse.

“Really? Tutoring what?”

“Everything.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Iruka knew that he’d made a mistake. The look on Kakashi’s face said it all. Why did this always happen to him—and with his evil boss, no less!

“Sick pervert!” He muttered, trying to distance himself from the bastard.

“Maa, Iruka,” Kakashi said, a big, beaming grin evident in his voice, “no need to get all upset. We all have our Freudian slips now and then.”

Iruka decided that he wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. He was off the clock; he had no obligations to be more than barely civil.

He managed to lose Kakashi in the break room amidst the bustle of co-workers a-flurry with pre-escape activities. He then managed to avoid the gigantic jerk at the rush out of the doors, making it at least another thirty-eight hours before he had to deal with that stupid eye-patch again.

“What were you and Kakashi talking about?” Izumo asked as they got into the car, a little too hopefully. “Did he mention the man that he gave that piece of paper to?”

Izumo—for whatever inane, insane reason—was thoroughly convinced that Kakashi was some sort of undercover agent and using the bookstore as a cover. He also was—for reasons unknown—quite certain that Kakashi had mentioned one or two things to Iruka about said agent business.

“No Izumo, he didn’t.” Iruka hoped the exasperation wasn’t showing. “He was only asking about my time at the Centre.” He started the car.

“Oh.” The disappointment wouldn’t last; it never did. Izumo would soon be plotting how he could verify Iruka’s story—just in case Iruka had been sworn to secrecy and couldn’t tell him outright.

“He’s been such a nosy old biddy recently,” Iruka complained, remember how Kakashi kept asking about his personal life. “If he’s not harassing me, he’s got to stick his nose in my life!”

Kotetsu sighed loudly. “Iruka, how much longer are you going to keep this up? It’s getting to be a bit old.”

“Excuse me?” Iruka snapped, stung. “I’m sorry if I’m burdening you with my complaints!”

“Not that,” Kotetsu rolled his eyes. “The whole clueless act. You can’t keep doing it forever. It’s not attractive, and it’s not productive in the least. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to actually deal with things.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on!” Izumo interjected.

“I know you’re thick—it can be endearing at times and it’s probably what drew him to you in the first place—but honestly, Iruka! Not even you can be that oblivious!”

“What? Drew who? What the hell?”

“Oh, for the love of...! KAKASHI, you moron!” Kotetsu all but yelled. “He wants into your pants, bad!”

“WHAT?!”

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!” Izumo shrieked. “Holy crap! Are you trying to kill us?!”

Kotetsu stared at Iruka. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know! HOW could you not know? He’s been salivating after you since you first walked into the store! He can’t keep his eyes off of your ass any time you’re in sight! He’s so obvious it’s absolutely unbelievable!”

“He hates me!”

“Iruka,” Kotetsu said slowly. “Kakashi. Wants. To. Jump. Your. Bones.”

“Badly,” Izumo added. “I can’t believe you didn’t know! What have you been doing, sticking your head under a rock? He’s so—WATCH THE ROAD!”

“He’s had nothing good to say—”

“Jesus H. Christ! Everyone other word out his mouth is your name! ‘Iruka knows the proper visual standards for tables, why don’t you spend some time learning them like he did?’” Kotetsu mimicked. “‘If you learned the four cornerstones of our company like Iruka did, I would haven’t to be writing you up right now, now would I?’ ‘Didn’t you get the memo? Open-toed shoes are no longer allowed; Iruka knew that’. ‘Maybe if you spent some time working out, you’d have an ass that’s half as hot as Iruka’s’.”

“He never said that!”

“GO LEFT! LEFT! DON’T HIT THAT POST!” Izumo screamed.

“Okay, so he didn’t say that last one, but he’s said variations of the others at least once a day to everyone!”

“I’ve never seen or heard any of that!”

“Clearly,” Izumo observed, eyes darting nervously for other obstacles that Iruka might try to hit.

“Honestly! How could you have missed it!”

“He’s shown me nothing but contempt!”

“That’s because he’s a social retard,” Kotetsu said. “He doesn’t have a friggin’ clue how to deal with people on a deeper level.”

“I think it’s because he doesn’t want to get sued for sexual harassment.”

“Okay, ‘Zumo’s got a point there. That’s probably more like it. He’s got a groovy thing going, and he didn’t want to lose that or have his ass sued. But he wants you in the worst way.”

“He’s been nothing but an absolute—”

“DON’T HIT THAT—”

CRASH!

“—bin.” Izumo finished weakly. He fumbled with the belt and stumbled out of the car. “That does it!” Iruka heard him say to Kotetsu. “No more telling him people like him when he’s driving! You almost got us killed!”

“Hey! Don’t blame me! I didn’t know he was really that clueless!” Kotetsu snapped back as he righted the trash bin. “Honestly, how could he not know?!”

Iruka left the two to argue over the bin, driving off in a daze.

They had to be pulling a fast one on him, they had to be. There was no way that Kakashi had a crush on him, absolutely no way.

He parked his car in the small lot and wandered up to his apartment, trying to rationalise Kotetsu and Izumo’s reasons for pulling such a stunt on him.

Kakashi was annoying; when he wasn’t finding faults with everything Iruka did, he was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He never had anything good to say about Iruka—he even refused to do Iruka’s yearly performance reviews because he might have to say something complementary (he did, however, never fail to send a long list of complaints with whichever manager was doing the evaluation).

Izumo and Kotetsu had to be wrong: they must be trying to set Iruka up to make a fool of himself or something because there was not other explanation for this.

If—for the sake of argument—Kakashi really did have a crush on him, he would have gone about it dealing with it in a completely different way. He wouldn’t be following Iruka around like a five year old with…a…crush…

Oh gods, no. No.

Kakashi wasn’t a five year old! He was older than Iruka; he could—and did—interact with other human beings normally. Iruka had seen him flirt with customers—mainly with the irate ones to get them to calm down, but that was beside the point! The point was he knew how to and none of those behaviours were ever directed towards Iruka!

Kakashi couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

The man hated Iruka. He had some vendetta against Iruka! He was always seeking Iruka out—

No. Oh please, gods, no.

This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t happening. Izumo and Kotetsu were just messing with his head. There was NO WAY his evil, crazy, wicked boss liked him—in that way or any other way!

It wasn’t true. And Iruka wasn’t going to obsess about it on his one day off. It was a joke, a prank, and he was going to FORGET ABOUT IT.

He was NOT going to worry about whether or not Kakashi had a crush on him or if he was known to check out Iruka’s ass—

ARGH!

xXxXxXxXxXx

By the time his job rolled around a day and a half later, Iruka thought he had it under control. He wasn’t going to freak out or be paranoid. Kakashi—magnetism and good looks aside—was STILL a gigantic asshat and it was going to take more than he might have incredibly good taste in men to change Iruka’s mind on the matter.

He did, however, resolve to crouch more and to bend over less, just to be safe.

It burned him to admit it, but there was some truth to what his former friends had said; Kakashi’s eyes did seem to follow him—and his butt—a lot. Pervert.

He decided that he hadn’t forgiven Kotetsu and Izumo and was thinking that maybe he should run them over with his car because Anko had sauced up to him, an evil smirk on her face.

“So! Kotetsu tells me you’re finally ready to face the facts!”

Genma’s head poked around the aisle. “Really? He’s finally figured it out?”

Vehicular homicide is wrong, no matter what the circumstances.

“No, he had to be told, but now he can screw the one-eyed bastard and maybe we’ll stop hearing his name every five seconds!”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here!”

“Sorry.” Genma sounded unrepentant and insincere. “So, when are you going to jump his bones?”

“I’m not going to jump anyone.”

“Oh, come on!” Anko interjected. “Why the hell not?”

“Because.”

“What the hell kind of answer is that? I’ll bet if you told him that you wanted to knock boots together, he’d do you right there!” She grabbed the book out of his hand.

Vehicular homicide is wrong.

Iruka growled slightly. “It’s not going to happen!” He snatched the book back.

“Why not?” Genma pressed.

“Because I don’t like him and he doesn’t like me, that’s why!”

“Gods, are you stupid!” Anko crossed her arms and glared at him. “This denial isn’t cute any more! That damn one-eyed idiot can’t get any more obvious! HOW have you missed it? He’s been drooling after your perky little ass ever since it first shook its way through those doors!”

“Yeah, I’m amazed he hasn’t pinned you up against something yet,” Genma added. “Honestly, just get into his pants and get it over with!”

Vehicular homicide is WRONG.

“Go recover your zone.” Iruka shoved passed the two spawns of evil.

“Well, Genma,” Anko said loudly, “maybe when Iruka’s back from his boat ride in Egypt, he’ll get off his ass and go put it to better use with one silver-haired know-it-all.”

Laughter slowly faded in the red haze that grew around Iruka and one objective suddenly because his entire focus.

DIE.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Kakashi looked torn between wanting to laugh and being stern. “Would you like to let me know why Anko and Genma not only suddenly have vacations they just remembered about and black eyes but the request forms to be transferred to a different store that’s as far from here as they humanely can get so they can, quote, ‘escape from that demon incarnate’, unquote?”

“I have no idea,” Iruka snarled murderously, “but if you could give me their addresses, license plate numbers, and account numbers, I might be able to fix a problem our company has been having. If you throw in a clown suit, some thyme, a Twilight book, and a cart of pig’s blood, I’ll also make sure that it won’t ever happen again.”

Kakashi shook his head. “First request denied, but the second might be allowed if you take pictures.”

Iruka’s grin was nothing short of terrifying. “Not a problem.” He turned to leave.

“Oh, and Iruka? I don’t know what’s going on, but stop trying to kill your co-workers with your car. It means lots of paperwork for me and then I have to hire and train new people. If you don’t, I might be forced to write you up.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, all right,” he grumbled ungraciously.

“Thank you.”

As Iruka left, he wondered if maybe there had been a bit of truth to what everyone was saying if all Kakashi was doing was threatening to write him up.

Nah, couldn’t be.

After all, ANKO believed it to be true.

x Fin x

'I Have No Opinion About This, I Have No Opinion About That'

Fri, 15 May 2009 18:51:32 GMT

Smile

Summary: Kakashi reflects on Iruka’s influence on his life. Sequel to 'Store Competition', but can be read alone.

Author’s Note: Alternate universe, possible out-of characterness, and general rambling

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 15 May 2009

Rating: K+

Kakashi glanced at the security monitors as he walked by, slowing down as a poof of a ponytail caught his eye. The bookseller on the small section of the screen was shoving his thick-rimmed glasses up on his scarred noses and smiling at a kid he was helping.

Kakashi watched the other man for a moment, noticing how the henna highlights blended with the chocolate strands and how that scar wrinkled with each smile. He made himself leave before he got lost in the watching.

He knew that his interest in his subordinate was never going to go anywhere, not only because the company had strict policies about fraternisation among its workers—especially between a superior and a subordinate—but because he refused to date a co-worker on principle. He’d seen one too many workplace relationships end and the job becoming a living hell for everyone, not just the ex-couple. It simply wasn’t worth it.

It was, for the most part, easy. There were a few people who threw themselves at him, but he ignored them and eventually, they left. He focused on his job and knew that due to this focus, he was in a very good place. He was the top candidate for the District Manager position if Tsunade ever decided to retire, publishers regularly asked for his advice on possible books and designs, the top rungs of the corporate ladder liked him, and his salary had started to approach high digit five figures.

Everything was much simpler before Iruka got hired.

Kakashi remembered when he was introduced to Iruka. Dark expressive eyes outlined in kohl, making them all the more prominent under the thick-rimmed glasses; long brown fringes that threatened to fall over one eye and bright red strands that mixed with the mocha hairs in a lively ponytail; a big smile that was almost ridiculously warm and sweet; a firm grip in strong hands and jeans.

Some part of Kakashi was grateful that Iruka didn’t line his eyes and didn’t wear those jeans to work anymore. Honestly, those jeans were the best illustration of sexual harassment Kakashi could think of. It wasn’t possible for an ass and a pair legs to look so damn fuckable and it was so distracting that there were days he could barely get anything done. He missed seeing Iruka like that, but his productivity was so much higher when Iruka wasn’t a walking ad for the sexual appeal of skinny jeans, so he let it go.

Iruka’s other problem was he had the personality and brains to back up that body. If he had been just another pretty face, Kakashi would have found it easy to ignore him. But Iruka was anything but. He had so much raw potential it made Kakashi’s teeth hurt. If the man had even a lick of ambition, he could rise above the ranks and move on to bigger and better things. It made Kakashi irrationally angry that all Iruka wanted was to be the Children’s Lead and to help with the training of new staff.

He pushed and prodded the other bookseller to try and get him to do more with himself, but it didn’t work. Kakashi had to resort to other methods to get Iruka up in the ranks. Iruka was the reason they made a title of Training Supervisor and Kakashi made sure that everyone new had to go through Iruka and his training programme. Iruka’s five-step programme was good enough that corporate adapted it and made it standard throughout the stores.

And still all Iruka wanted was to help train people and straighten kiddie books.

It never occurred to Kakashi that he might be pushing a little too hard until Kurenai bluntly told him he was being too severe with the bookseller and Asuma—in his laid-back roundabout way—mentioned that Iruka felt persecuted. When even Gai started making comments, Kakashi looked in to it.

And realised that Iruka hated him. Completely and utterly hated him.

When Kakashi thought back on it, he should have guessed that Cookie Incident (well, that might have been because Iruka didn’t appreciate their nightly discussions on balancing tills) and the fact that he’d been Santa’s Elf for the last few years should have been a tip-off (Iruka was famous for getting back at people who wronged him in the WORST ways), and now he didn’t know how to fix it. Every time he tried to be nice now was greeted with suspicion and hostility. It was actually surprising that Iruka hadn’t put a complaint in with the company’s anonymous tip line.

Kakashi made valiant efforts to clean up his behaviour, even if Iruka didn’t believe it was genuine. If nothing else, he didn’t want the man to think that he hated him, when few things could be farther from the truth.

Kakashi also made sure that the fact that he got Iruka to be noticed by Tsunade and the fact he was behind the bookseller’s promotions didn’t get out to Iruka. If Iruka was already suspicious of him and his behaviours, he probably wouldn’t take well to finding out Kakashi instrumental in some of the big moves in the store he’d made. Probably would think it was a bribe or something equally bad and would try to pass it up.

Kakashi looked at the sales reports he was supposed to be reviewing and tried not to remember how sweet Iruka’s mouth really was. It had been something that had distracted him ever since the annual store competition, but it wasn’t exactly anything he could explore further, much less repeat.

Remembering that Iruka not only hated him but was off-limits helped him bring his brain back to where it needed to be.

He was half-way through the paperwork when the familiar knock came.

“Come in.”

He didn’t look up because he was too vulnerable at the moment and there was no telling what would come out of his mouth if he met those warmer-than-brownies eyes. He couldn’t stop that demonstrative voice from affecting him.

“I, um, I need a new availability sheet.”

Kakashi looked up much more sharply than he intended to. “What for?”

“I...an opportunity has arisen.” Iruka pushed up his glasses and adjusted the messenger’s bag across his chest.

“Are you planning on leaving us?”

He looked surprised. “No, of course not.” And before Kakashi’s hope could burgeon any more, he added “My health insurance and things like that are through the company.”

Kakashi handed the availability sheet to Iruka and refused to let his fingers brush against that smooth skin. He didn’t want to have that knowledge to couple with memory of that flawless mouth; nights were long enough without those two things getting together and making them longer.

Iruka hesitated, holding the paper almost nervously. It seemed like there was something on his mind and he wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it. “What’s been going on with you recently?”

Kakashi blinked at the blurted out question. “What do you mean?” He asked, making the mistake of looking up as the red filled Iruka’s cheeks.

“I didn’t mean that they way that it came out,” Iruka apologised, “but your behaviour towards me has done almost a one eighty in the past month.”

Kakashi made himself listen to what was being said and not fixate on that mouth. “It was brought to my attention that I wasn’t being completely fair with you, so I am trying to fix that.”

Iruka stared. “‘Not being completely’...” he started disbelievingly. He shook himself slightly and seemed to be biting back what he really wanted to say. “Of course.” He sounded torn between being bitter and incredibly frustrated. “Well, I just wanted to know. Thank you.”

Irrationally, he wanted to tell Iruka to stay, but that would be crossing all sorts of professional and personal lines, so he didn’t. Instead, he watched the younger walk out, pausing only to read the flyer that was taped to Kakashi’s door.

Iruka glanced back at him sharply. “Asuma and Kurenai have announced their engagement?”

“We’ll have a cake for them on Saturday.”

“I saw that on the flyer, but what about the policy on dating?”

“While the company frowns on fraternisation between its workers, the policy expressly states that it isn’t allowed between two people where one of them is in power,” Kakashi flipped over the report and started on the busywork on the second page. “And since both Kurenai and Asuma are managers, neither one of them out-ranks the other, thus the company cannot touch them.”

“Ah, so there’s the loophole,” Iruka looked at the flyer again. “Is that why Kurenai got promoted recently?”

“Kurenai got a promotion because she put in for one and because both Tsunade and I felt that she was the best candidate for the job,” Kakashi said dryly.

He could feel the temperature in the small office rise, which meant that Iruka had smiled at him. “So it was just good luck for her?”

“I would never promote someone just to help out their love life, and I don’t encourage office relationships.” He made himself keep his eyes on the paper in front of him. “And she got it not through luck, but by being an ambitious and good employee.”

“And I’m going to assume that you’re going to claim you knew nothing about their relationship before her promotion.”

Goddamn it, the smile must have gotten warmer because it was colouring Iruka’s voice now. He wasn’t going to look up, no matter how fabulous Iruka probably looked right now! “I didn’t. I was quite surprised when they announced their engagement. All I could do was reprimand them for their disregard for the rules and make sure that they don’t have any overlap in their schedules.”

“Aren’t you supposed to fill out paperwork on that sort of thing?”

“Shikaku is in charge of that kind of paperwork. You know that. I don’t have to do that stuff.”

Iruka’s warm laughter burst out, startling Kakashi. He made the mistake of looking up. That open, unguarded face hooked him sharply and started to reel him in before he got control of himself again.

“Well, thank you for the availability sheet, I appreciate that. And thank you for fixing your behaviour; it has made work a much more enjoyable experience.”

Kakashi resisted the urge to either ask if he was really that bad or if Iruka wanted to make the experience even more enjoyable. He looked down at the paperwork, trying not to let that perfect smile distract him from the fact that they were selling those stupid teen vampire books faster than they could stock them.

If he was a less professional man or one with less control of his body, he would have breathed a sigh of relief when Iruka shut his office door behind him.

Damn it, it was almost easier to work with Iruka when the man hated his guts. Then he could at least keep some emotional distance from the man and now...now, Kakashi felt constantly plagued with Iruka’s warmth. Now those smiles occasionally were directed at him.

Productivity was going down the drain again, he could tell. Maybe he should have thrown a remark or two in there, but Iruka had just commented on his change in his behaviour.

Goddamn it. How was it that this man had so much power over him? How? He had done nothing but fight it since he first met Iruka, and yet it seemed he never gained any ground.

There had to be SOMETHING he could do.

Kakashi silently sighed and stared at his paperwork. He was going places. He was vital. He was the best of the best. He had a job and he was going to go far in it. He had goals and he was going to achieve them.

And it worried him that all of that faltered and vanished in the face of that warm smile.

x Fin x

That's No Way To Go

Sun, 12 Apr 2009 06:27:18 GMT

On The Roof

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Squaresoft’s (Square Enix) Final Fantasy VIII and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summary: Zell goes after Seifer to find out what’s wrong

Author’s Note: Written for Athame. Sequel to 'After the Fight', but can be read alone. Possible out-of-characterness and unbeta'd

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 12 April 2009

Rating: T

Zell pursed his lips and returned to his musing. If he left the Training Centre at 1135 hours and took the northern hallway, he could be at the cafeteria in 7.3 minutes IF:

A). the floor had been washed no more than four hours ago and no less than an hour ago;

B). Xu’s military formation class didn’t get let out early;

C). the party committee stayed in the Quad and the Dorm areas like they were supposed to;

D). the disciplinary committee didn’t see him;

E). Irving wasn’t roaming the halls;

F). Seifer was still in his room.

However, if he took the southern hallway, he could be at the cafeteria in 9.8 minutes IF:

A). Selphie didn’t see him;

B). the floor had been swept in the last hour (but not the last fifteen minutes);

C). Squall stayed in his office;

D). the Garden wasn’t flying over the Ester Plains;

E). the medical magic class was where it was supposed to be;

F). Seifer was still in his room.

Zell pondered his options as he squashed another grat. If he took the northern hallway and left two minutes later, he could avoid the disciplinary committee, but he ran the risk of the congestion being 68% higher. If he took the southern route, he could avoid the crowds, but would have further to go.

Of course, he could avoid a lot of that if he left at 1130 hours, but then he wouldn’t have completed a full training session and they always got mad when people hung around the doors for too long...

So many tough decisions!

He finally decided to risk the northern hallway. If his calculations were correct and his luck stats were high, maybe things—

CRASH!

--Or not. Clearly luck was not on his side today.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going, Chicken Wuss!”

Zell groaned. It sounded like Seifer was in one of those moods again, so Zell could kiss those freshly cooked hot dogs goodbye.

In fact, it sounded like Seifer was having a bad day (something Zell found hard to imagine happening on such a beautiful spring day), so he pushed the thoughts of his favouritest food in the whole wide world aside and focused on being a good friend.

“Sorry, Seif. Didn’t mean to run into you.” He bounced on the balls of his feet and thought about not thinking about food. He opened his mouth to tactfully ask Seifer why he looked so upset when the former bully shoved passed him rudely.

“Get your eyes checked, dumbass!” The tall blond snarled over his shoulder.

Zell blinked. This...was not normal behaviour. It was almost like Seifer was running—

“Hey, hey! Get back here!”

A cadet—one the Zell knew to be one of Seifer’s protective unit—hurried in the direction of the retreating grey trench coat. He puffed a little as he approached Zell. “Hey!” He tried one more time. He paused and bent over, clutching at a stitch in his side. He looked up at Zell. “Help...help a guy out?”

A Garden Faculty member rounded a potted plant. “Why isn’t the Sorcerer’s Traitor in his session?” He demanded crossly. “And why are you just standing here? Go and bring him back!”

He snarled when the winded guard tottered a few steps forwards. “Are you disobeying a direct order?”

“Goin’, I’m going!” The out-of-shape cadet wheezed.

“I’m not talking to you,” the Faculty member snapped. He glared at Zell.

While he bristled at being addressed like he was an idiot—he’d helped save the world, damn it!—Zell decided it would be best to play the stupid power game with the Garden Faculty member. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know that you were addressing me.”

He got a condescending look. “Well, now you know! Go and bring him back now!”

Zell bit back the ‘yeah, yeah, keep your pants on!’ comment he wanted to make and set out after Seifer. Maybe if he did things right, he could claim he tried to get Seifer to come back to whatever he was fleeing and find out what the hell was going on.

After a quick circle, Zell hadn’t found Seifer and so he tried to think of where the gunblader might have gone. There had been no Seifer in the Library (Sakura waved a little too eagerly at him, but at least she didn’t flutter her eye lashes at him any more), or in the Quad or even causing another grat massacre in the Training Centre. The last thing made Zell a little worried; Seifer had a nasty habit of killing things when he was pissed off, so the fact that he wasn’t there when he clearly was in such a funk didn’t seem real.

Ducking passed the increasingly abusive Garden Faculty member, Zell darted down the dormitory hallway. He was going to try Raijin’s ‘room’ (it was a badly kept secret that Raijin lived in Fujin’s room instead of his own) and then he was going to have to get more creative. He knew that Seifer was probably hiding in a place Zell wouldn’t think of for a very long time or he was moving around.

Raijin’s room was empty, but it smelled fresher then a room with no-one living in should smell. After a few seconds, he saw why; the window was open.

Following his gut instincts (the ones that weren’t telling him to blow this off and go get some hotdogs instead), Zell squeezed out and jumped down on to the roof.

He found Seifer sitting behind an air cooling unit, looking out at the budding forest as it went slowly by.

“Hey,” he said, shifting on his feet slightly nervously. “Can I join you?”

“Fuck off, Chicken Wuss.”

Zell decided to take that as an affirmative answer. He flopped down and waited for Seifer to either try to hit him or start the friendly insulting banter he liked to throw at Zell.

Zell shifted his weight and waited. Seifer would start up any moment.

He adjusted his seat and stopped his foot from twitching.

“Fuck! SAY somethin’ already!”

Seifer gave him a look that was equal parts withering and amused. “Three minutes and twenty-two seconds. You just beat your old record by two seconds.”

Zell scowled. “I can sit still fer longer than that!”

“You?” Seifer snorted derisively. “You couldn’t sit still if your life depended on it.”

“Yeah, well, you couldn’t stop bein’ an asshole if your life depended on it.”

“Fuck off.”

Zell gave Seifer a sideways look. The older boy wasn’t rising to any bait, and also wasn’t making any attempts to pick on him. All was not right in the world. “Hey, you okay?”

“Can’t you take a damn hint? Go the fuck away!”

“I can’t do that.”

“What, they ordered you to come after me and bring me back?”

“Well, yes,” Zell said, but then hastily added “but that wasn’t why. I’m not going to leave you up here by yourself when you need a friend.”

“You’re not my friend.”

“Okay.” It would be probably easier to just agree right now than to argue the point. “But I still ain’t going anywhere.”

Green eyes rolled. “Get it through your thick skull, numb nuts. You’re not wanted!”

“You’ve said that.”

“Then make like a teenager and beat it! How many times do I gotta say it?”

Zell shrugged, feeling the breeze playing with his hair and bringing the smell of spring with it. “I dunno.”

Seifer glared. A couple years ago, it’d have made Zell nervous. “You are, without a doubt, the stupidest person on the planet.”

“Prob’lly.” Zell stretched his legs out and wiggled his toes. It was too nice of a day after too long of a winter for him to stay annoyed for long. “This gives a nice view, ya know?”

Seifer huffed in annoyance and returned to staring out over the budding trees.

Zell was not a person who could sit still or stay quiet for any length of time and he soon found himself rambling on some random tangents while he kicked out his legs. Any thought that fell in his head—save the one about food because he was NOT thinking about hot dogs—found its way out of his mouth and—

“They’re trying to make me see those shrinks.”

Zell tripped over what he had just been saying—something about dancing ochus—and blinked. “What?”

“They’re going to try and make me see those shrinks.”

“What shrinks? Why? Who?”

“Hyne, are you stupid,” Seifer sounded even more derisive than ever, but Zell was pretty sure it was because anything else would have been perceived as weakness by the gunblader. “I ‘need’ those nosey nutters because I’ve been ‘brainwashed’.”

He blinked. “Why do they think that?”

Seifer gave him the world’s nastiest glare. “What other reason would I have for joining Her?” He snarled, a bitter mocking edge in his voice.

“That’s it? That’s the reason they’re usin’?” Zell leaned back against the cooling unit. “What a bunch of dumbasses!”

Seifer snorted. “That’s what I say.”

“I mean, if you had changed or summin’, I could see the need for brain-pickin’.” Zell flicked his foot. “But you were an ass ‘fore the War, you were one durin’ it, and you’re still an ass, now that it’s over.”

Seifer shot him another dirty look. “Thanks, Chicken Wuss.”

“I could tell ‘em that, if you want.”

“Your help does more harm, moron. ‘Sides, I don’t need your help.”

“Are you gunna hide every time they try to talk to you?”

“I don’t hide.”

“What do you call this?”

“I am,” Seifer said with superior air of condescension, “getting my fill of vitamin D and making sure that I do not get seasonal depression.”

“Seasonal depression? You dumbass, it’s spring! Winter’s over!”

“A lack of sunlight in life, no matter what the season is, will often lead to depression. And this dump breeds depression, so I have to make sure that I take all the proper precautions against it.”

Zell opened his mouth and his stomach chose that moment to let him know that he had been ignoring it, and it wasn’t going to be quiet about things, either.

Seifer gave him long look.

Ears burning, he muttered something about it being lunch time.

“And you’re not going to go away, are you?” Seifer sounded irritated, but Zell wondered if he heard a current of amusement running under the words. “Great, lucky me. I’m stuck with a dumbass Wuss hasn’t eaten and now I have to listen to his stomach on top of his stupid ramblings.” He stood up.

Zell scrambled to his feet and stumbled after the taller boy. “Hey! Hey, where’re you goin’?”

“I’m not sitting around listening to your bodily functions as well as you running at the mouth.” Seifer grabbed the edge of Raijin’s window and easily hefted himself up and forwards. “I have troubles thinking of worse torture.”

“Arse!” Zell flailed a little, being just short enough that he couldn’t replicate Seifer’s grace and ease.

Seifer rolled his eyes and then—much to Zell’s complete and utter surprise—grabbed the back of Zell’s coat and hauled the smaller boy in.

Zell knew his face was flaming and he wasn’t sure that all of it was due to embarrassment. Seifer had used just one hand to pull him in; the strength that must have taken...

“Um, thanks,” he muttered, scuffing his feet on the floor.

“Whatever, Chicken Wuss.”

“Hey! Hey, I’m tryin’ to be nice here! Don’t walk off! You could be takin’ lessons or summin’ from me!”

“Oh, you should sign me up right away. I can’t wait to start studying at Moronic U!”

“Yeah, well, better have a degree there than at Asshat U!” Zell hurried to keep up with Seifer. He was hungry and Seifer was being a particular bastard, but if the gunblader was left alone, there was no telling what would happen to him. He might get attacked by the cadets again, he might get caught wandering around the Garden without his guards...it was best if—

“Oof! What the hell, Seif! You can’t jus’—hey Squall, Dr Kadowaki.” Zell bounced a little on his toes, embarrassed for swearing in front of the doctor. “What’s happenin’?”

“Zell,” the doctor nodded at him before turning to Seifer. “Seifer, I know that you aren’t very excited about the therapy sessions, but they’re for the best.”

“I don’t need a shrink,” Seifer said coldly, shoulders squared and feet apart.

“The Garden Board think that it’s for the best, and I agree with them.” Squall cross his arms and glared.

“So now it’s not enough that I have no privacy. Now you want into my head? Fuck you.”

“If you don’t agree to this—”

“Will I be given the boot? Please say that I will.”

Squall glared harder. “We’re not going to throw you out.”

Dr Kadowaki made a small gesture. “We’re not trying to get into your head, Seifer. After your ordeal with the Sorceress, we thought that it might be good for you to have someone to talk to about what happened.”

“All that happened was that I picked the wrong side. Now, if you all excuse me, I have places to be.”

“Where is your protective unit?” Squall demanded. “You shouldn’t be walking around here unprotected.”

Seifer’s jaw tightened and Zell decided it was time for some Dincht interference. “He’s goin’ to lunch wit’ me. I don’t think he needs those cadets, do you?” As if on cue, Zell’s stomach protested again about being ignored still.

Squall’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “I suppose that would be all right, but don’t make this a habit. And the discussion about your therapy sessions is not over. You will come to my office after you’re done eating and get your schedule for your appointments.”

Seifer clicked his heels together and sharply saluted. “JA, Princess Headmaster!” He said loudly, arm out and rigid. “HEIL!” He clicked his heels again and started goose-matching down the hallway.

Zell—trying hard to keep his face straight—waved to Squall and the doctor as he hurried after the taller boy. “That was mean!”

“Who cares.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Zell said a few minutes later. “I’ll tell him this new shrink idea is crap. And afterwards,” he added hastily, before Seifer could tell him that he didn’t want help, “we can go beat up some grats!”

Seifer shook his head. “You are a meddlesome dumbass. If you want to go annoy the Ice Princess instead of me, I’m not going to say no. Maybe then you’ll go away.”

Zell cuffed Seifer’s arm cheerfully, already feeling better. Seifer wasn’t being a big ass anymore, an indication that his mood had improved, it was a beautiful day out, and he had a plan to help his friend.

Spring was the time of new beginnings and possibilities, and Zell was ready to tackle them all.

But only after he got some hot dogs.

If You Can't Hold On

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 04:23:03 GMT

After The Fight

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Squaresoft's (Square Enix) Final Fantasy VIII and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summary: Seifer’s itching for a fight.

Author’s Note: Sequel to 'Late Night Training', but can be read alone. Possible out-of-characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 24 March 2009

Rating: T

Zell and Raijin were at it again.

It was disgusting, really. Who honestly cared about Goodbye Pupurun or whatever the damn thing was called?

This also led to the question of what the fuck was Zell doing at their table, anyway. And why was he still there?

Seifer glared at the two of them. It was enough to put him off of his lunch. Why did he let them sit at his table, again?

Fujin kicked him sharply under the table.

He tried not to wince too visibly. Right, that would be it. Fujin thought that Zell did him some good. Where she got such a harebrained idea, he didn’t know, but since she had taken to kicking him, he didn’t question it. Not to her face, at least.

Seifer slouched back in his chair. Now everyone thought he was Zell’s friend because the dumb cluck had started sitting at his lunch table as much as he sat at Mr Princess and co.’s table. And it didn’t help that Raijin hit it off with him so now Seifer had two people to annoy the heck out of him, especially since the huge lumbering lunkhead kept inviting Zell to tag along.

Zell was laughing and he turned slightly so he could give Seifer a big grin, like he thought that Seifer wanted to a part of whatever idiocy that he and Raijin were discussing. He gave Zell a nasty look, but the little blond seemed unfazed.

Revolted, he shoved his plate away. Maybe he could give his guards the slip and hide out in his dorm room or something.

“Hey, hey, Seif!” Zell practically bounced in his seat. “Are you finished wit’ that? Can I have th’ hot dogs you didn’t eat?”

“Sure!” Raijin shoved the tray over towards the hyperactive blond before Seifer could say anything. “Can’t let it go to waste, ya know?”

“Ah, man, Seif, you’re th’ best!” Zell seemed oblivious to the fact that Seifer hadn’t said a single thing.

He was going to yank the tray back, just to see what the stupid Chicken Wuss would say to that, but then Fujin glared at him, single eye promising extreme pain if he tried anything.

That did it. Seifer was not going to sit around and put up with this. He shoved his chair back and stormed out, hearing his guards scrambling after him, yelling obscenities because they still were eating or some such shit; he didn’t stick around to listen to them.

He could see the furtive glances the stupid underclassmen threw him as he stalked by and he wondered how long it would before one of them finally grew a pair and picked a fight with him. He was sick of all the goddamn pussyfooting around him.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” One of his more obnoxious guards hollered at him. “You have class next and that’s that way!”

Arrogant little Headmaster Princess-wannabe. “I’m taking the long way because you looked like you could use the exercise, Piggy Fatso.”

Ah, how he delighted in the shades of fuchsia that his guards’ faces could reach. “Watch your mouth!” The other guard snapped crossly.

Seifer smirked. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Prince Chihuahua,” he said, loving how her perfectly made-up face started to match her companion’s, “I didn’t mean to insult you or Piggy Fatso here. Will you ever forgive me?”

Her immaculately done eyes narrowed so much that the purply eye shadow disappeared completely behind her fake eyelashes. “This is your last warning, Almasy! Once more, and you’ll get a demerit!”

“Yeah? And where do you think one will come from? You?” Seifer snorted derisively. “You can’t even spell your own name, much less write it out. In fact, I’ll bet the only pencil you ever touch is the one you use to make your lips look fat and your eyes bruised every morning.”

He felt vindicated when the round guard wasn’t quite good enough to stop the small snort of laughter. As the plastic guard spun on him, Seifer felt almost normal.

He loved sowing seeds of dissent among his so-called guards. It was almost like the old days. The only thing that would have made it better was if he could punch them.

He smirked slightly. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he’d get the chance.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Squall glared at him.

Quistis was tapping her foot disapprovingly at him, but her pale eyes held worry and the ever present insecurity, though it was much fainter than it had been in the pre-war days. It no longer draped itself over her like a blanket, but now clung to her like a mist.

Squall glared at him harder.

Seifer smirked—or at least, tried to. It seemed that his jaw and his cheek hadn’t healed completely yet. “What, no flowers?”

“You put three students into the Infirmary,” Squall stated, ignoring Seifer’s comment. “And we had to treat seven others.”

“What were you thinking?” Quistis scolded. “You can’t just go beating up the people who are protecting you!”

“You do know that our investors aren’t going to be happy about this. Especially after I spent all that time arguing to get you to stay here.”

“You didn’t do shit other than sign your name to get me here.” It was time to clear the air a little bit. Seifer shifted the compress so he could glower at them with both of his eyes. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see out of one of them right now; what mattered was that they know where he stood. “And let’s get the facts straight about this whole little incident. Prince Chihuahua threw the first punch. After that, it became a bit of a free-for-all, with everyone else involved. I only fuckin’ defended myself.”

“You egged your guards so they would start a fight.” Quistis, it seemed, was going to try to pull her authority card on him. “And that kind of behaviour is unacceptable.”

“And ganging up on me is?” Seifer shot back. “I fuckin’ don’t care if they want to punch my face in, but when it’s a crowd against one, yeah, I’m going to use a shit-ton of force!” He stood up, ignoring the pain in his legs and back. “Fuck this. I’m not sitting around listening to you guys pin this all back on me.”

He stormed out and didn’t let himself try to smirk until he was well outside of the Infirmary.

That went better than he expected it to go. He played a very good victim. Betcha that Quistis was feeling guilty and would be pulling a nice trip on Squall right now.

He’d have to do this again.

xXxXxXxXxXx

He gingerly flopped back on to his bed. He wanted to slam his door shut behind him, but part of his recent punishment included the only time he could shut a door was when he was pissing or showering in the bathroom in common space he shared with Fujin and Raijin. In theory, this was to shame him into behaving better.

In reality, all it meant was that he was going to have to be more careful about sneaking out when he trained. It wasn’t like he had any privacy to begin with, so it was just one more thing to add to the list.

Really, who did they think they were punishing? It was an annoyance, definitely, but not a punishment.

He tossed his less battered arm over his eyes and waited for the pain killers to come up and kick his sense of reality across the room.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there when he heard that annoying voice asking his guards if he was in. Gods, was he blind as well as annoying?

“He’s in, but I don’t know why you’d want to bother him.” One of his guards muttered.

“Seifer is my friend,” the Chicken Wuss said with great dignity. “An’ I wanna see how he’s doin’ after they beat him up like that.”

“Beat him…he threw four people over the rails into the fountain right after he broke three other people’s noses!”

“He was defendin’ himself!” Zell said hotly. “I’d like to see you not hurt other people when you got twenty people attackin’ you at once!”

Seifer tried to smirk under his arm. It sounded like the rumours were doing their job; it had been more like ten people, but at this rate, he was going have stood up to the entire school trying to kill him by tomorrow morning.

“He still goaded them into it,” the other guard pointed out dryly. “So it’s not entirely like he’s the only wounded party here.”

“Seifer says dumb shit all th’ time”—oh, that was rich, especially since it was coming from that moronic cluck—“an’ you can’t jus’ up an’ try to punch him ev’ry time he does it! You gotta ignore what he says an’ watch what he does!”

He almost yanked his arm down so he could yell at the idiot, but something in the Chicken’s voice made him pause.

Maybe the pain meds were finally doing their thing.

“You mean like when he trying to break innocent people’s heads?” The dry guard asked sardonically.

“Seif’s saved my life!” Zell hissed. “An’ he’s done all sorts of stuff to let me kno’ that th’ stuff comin’ out of his mouth is jus’ verbal diarrhoea!”

“Dude, you were his favourite punching bag for years before the War! You call that friendship?!”

“He only punched me a few times! He didn’t do it much ‘cuz I could kick his ass, even back then! ‘Nyhow,” the dumb cluck continued with a disgusting show of loyalty, “that was then an’ this is now. He likes hangin’ out wit’ me; he told me so!”

“I doubt that.”

“If he did, it was only so he could make fun of you later.” The spastic guard snorted.

“He told me that before he thought we were gunna die! You don’t lie when you think you’re gunna kick it!”

Seifer wondered how all the hell Chicken Wuss got ‘I like hanging out with you’ from ‘I don’t hate you’.

…Then again, he wasn’t all sure he really wanted to know. He might sprain his brain trying to figure that one out.

“ANYHOW,” the moron was saying loudly, “it don’t matter what you think, ‘cuz Seif’s th’ one who’s a mess right now an’ you ain’t!” With that, Zell stormed into Seifer’s room.

Seifer could almost hear Zell cringing as he realised that he’d been loud and Seifer looked like he was sleeping. He almost smirked, but then he’d have deal with the Wuss and possibly acknowledge that he heard what the dumbo had said about him. Neither sounded like options that he wanted to explore, so he left his arm over his eyes and kept his breathing regular and slow.

“Sorry,” he heard the Chicken whisper and battle-worn fingers ghosting over his hair.

What the fuck? Why was Zell petting him?

The hand pulled away and Seifer felt relief set in. He didn’t know what the hell Zell had just done or why, but he better not touch Seifer again. Not if he knew what was good for him.

He heard the idiot shuffle around and move a chair, and then mostly silence. He entertained the idea of ‘waking up’ and yelling at the dipshit, but since the world seemed to take on a surreal bent recently, he decided that maybe he’d better not. Best to let reality go away and perhaps when it came back, things would be the way they should be.

xXxXxXxXxXx

When Seifer came back to a state of reality, the first thing he noticed was the pain. Fuck painkillers and fuck what the stupid Princess Haedmaster said, he was going to down a potion or three.

He slowly rolled to his side so he could swing his legs out over the side of his bed with the minimal amount of movement needed. He froze when he saw that his chair was not in its correct place by his desk; instead, it was pulled close to his bed. Goddamn it, couldn’t people put his stuff back? He kicked it slightly, but since to move it back into its proper place made him hurt even more, he decided that it could stay where it was for now. He’d fix it for real once he didn’t feel like a heard of ochus had trampled him.

Slowly, he shuffled over to where he had a secret stash of potions. Unfortunately, it appeared they weren’t as secret as he hoped they were. Meant he was going to have to find another spot, and he was going to have to get more potions. Fujin and Raijin were always out to help, but people were so convinced that all his friends did was buy him potions, it was a little hard some days.

He was going to hit them up for some, anyhow.

Fuck, but he was sore.

“Hey, man,” Raijin greeted him loudly as he slowly dragged himself into the room. “Wasn’t sure when you were gonna be up an’ movin’, dotchano!”

“BETTER?” Fujin looked up from the magazine she was studying.

“No, hurt like fuckin’ hell.” He eased himself down on a stool and ignored the guards who were glaring at him. He made a small gesture that he knew that his friends would understand.

Fujin gave him a sympathetic look and lowered her voice. “TOOK. HAVE NONE.”

“Totally cleared us out, ya know? Seemed ta think we’re a private pharmacy for you or somethin’ an’ we got nuthin’ better ta do.”

Seifer almost sighed, but since he wasn’t that type, he only sneered. It looked like he was going to have to suck it up for the night until the morning pills were dispensed. He’d gone for more than a day without a potion or healing magic during the war—especially towards the end when supplies had been scarce—but he wasn’t keen on doing it again.

“FOOD?” Fujin offered, using a normal tone of voice again.

If he didn’t have an image to keep up, he’d said no. But with the damn guards spying on his every movement, he had a certain role he had to play. “Sure, what do you have?”

“We’ve got—”

“Hey, guys! I’m back and I’ve—Seif! You’re up! How’re you feeling?”

What the fuck was he doing here?

Seifer glared, but Zell ignored him and bounced in, carrying a drink caddy.

“I brought things to drink! An’ I brought Mr Fugly”—here he grinned at Seifer—“somethin’ special!”

Seifer glared.

Zell plopped in the seat next to his and thrust something at him.

Seifer stared at it. It looked like a smoothie machine had puked into a cup. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s filled wit’ stuff to make you feel better!” The Wuss winked at him when he said that, like he was trying to communicate something to someone.

Seifer poked it. Things sloshed in ways that nothing edible should. “No.”

Fujin glared at him.

He glared back. He wasn’t going to touch the stuff on principle alone. No way he had sunk so low that—

Fujin’s foot didn’t kick him, but it certainly found a tender spot and pressed.

Goddamn it, who died and made her the leader?

Seifer took a suspicious sip only because it made Fujin pull her foot back and not because he was doing anything for that annoying Over-Active Brat. He nearly started when he felt the familiar healing tingle of a potion start to seep through his veins. Sharply, he looked over at Chicken Wuss.

The bouncy annoyance gave him a large grin.

Only after the smile faltered a little did Seifer down the entire cup. He then tossed it in the general direction of the Wuss. “Next time, don’t be such a dumbass and use less bananas and more blueberries.”

Zell blinked before a big smile bloomed over his face. “I ain’t gonna blow all my money on blueberries just ‘cuz you like them! You’re gonna just have to live wit’ it!” He glanced over at Fujin and Raijin. “Whiny bastard, ain’t he?”

Seifer rolled his eyes, already feeling the worst of the pain vanishing and leaving a dull ache behind. “Whatever, Chicken Wuss. Go away.”

“Nice try!” The dumbass laughed at him, then proceeded to a huge nuisance of himself with Raijin.

Fujin sat back, a slightly smug smirk on her face. Seifer glared at her, but she did nothing to shut up the two loud annoyances that were making a racket.

After fifteen minutes, Seifer was sick of the noise and he decided if he went to bed, maybe the morons would take the hint and SHUT THE FUCK UP.

And he most certainly was not going because the day had tired him out or he wanted to sleep off some of the residual pain; Seifer wasn’t some stupid, pathetic, little cry-baby who couldn’t take a little discomfort.

“LEAVING ALREADY?” Fujin asked, looking like she might make Seifer sit back down again.

“The moronic twins are giving me a headache.”

From the way she nodded her head, he knew she understood.

Zell and Raijin both had abashed expressions on their faces. “Sorry, ya know?”

“Hey, I’ll bring you another smoothie tomorrow, okay?” Zell called out to Seifer’s back.

Seifer flipped Zell off, and heard the tattooed blond cheerfully announce what a jackass he was.

As he gingerly flopped down on his bed, he reflected on the evening. The potion in the smoothie wasn’t anything he had expected, and it was move that almost seemed to clever to have come from the Wuss. Fujin might have a point; there might be some use for the dumbass after all.

Maybe he’d let Zell hang around just little bit longer.

x Fin x

'Til Now, I've Always Got By On My Own

Fri, 27 Feb 2009 04:24:46 GMT

Plants

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Masashi Kishimoto’s Naruto and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summary: Iruka’s living room has been taken over

Author’s Note: Happy birthday, Kiterie! In the First Step Universe, but can be read alone. Possible out-of-characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 27 February 2009

Rating: K+

Iruka stopped, and stared.

A few moments later, he called out. “Kakashi?”

A bushy head peered out. “Yes?”

“What happened to my living room?”

“Oh, Gai was over.”

“What did I tell you about having competitions in my living room?”

“We didn’t have a challenge!”

“Then you need to explain things better.”

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. “Well, I promised Gai I’d water his plants if he couldn’t get mini-Gai to do it for whatever reason. Except he’s watering Anko’s bamboo plants and Raidou’s pothos right now. I said I’d water those as well, but I wasn’t going to run all over the place to do that, so we brought all the plants here.”

“And the nametags...?”

“Did you know that none of them have named anything?” Kakashi sounded very disapproving and slightly scandalised. “How do they expect their plants to flourish without having a proper identity?”

Iruka shook his head. “Kakashi...”

“I also had to be able to tell them apart so when they come back, I can give them their proper plant. So if Anko comes back, Bob is over there and Franklin is next to Mr Ukki. Tora is Raidou’s and she’s hanging there. George, Goku, Greg, Gloria, Greta, and Herbert are all Gai’s.”

“Kakashi, you’re hot and amazing and fabulous in bed, but you’re insane.”

“Oh! You have to meet Sandra! I thought the testosterone was getting to be too much in the apartment, so I got Sandra.” He beamed brightly as he pointed to an ugly, squat cactus.

“Sandra.”

“Mr Ukki and Mortimer are excited to have such a different voice in the house. And next to Sandra is Kyou. He’s a mini dogwood! He’ll help bridge the gap between the plants and the pack!”

“Have you considered getting a different hobby? Like senbon collecting or dog shows or something?”

Kakashi looked cross and wounded. “Mr Ukki’s family,” he informed Iruka, “and so’s Mortimer and Sandra and Kyou. And I have a hobby. I read.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“You should apologise to Mr Ukki and the others, not me.”

Feeling silly, but knowing that his boyfriend would never let it go if he didn’t, Iruka turned towards the window sill. “I’m sorry, you guys. I didn’t mean it to come out that way.”

Kakashi grinned at him. “See? One big happy family!”

Iruka shook his head. “I’m going this way and I’m going to contemplate how I got myself in this situation.”

“I have the week off, that’s why I have everyone else’s pets.”

He turned. “What?”

“The Hokage thinks I’m working too hard. Gave me the week off and so that’s why I’m watering plants.”

Iruka did his best to ignore the surge he felt. “Oh?”

Kakashi must have felt one as well, because he grinned. “Don’t have to walk anywhere for one, whole week.”

“Huh,” Iruka tried to act nonchalant and knew he was fooling no-one. “So, are you going to catch up on your reading?”

“I do have a stack of notes that I need to get through,” the Copy Ninja tapped his chin. “You were quite...inspired while I was off at my last mission. That might keep me busy—”

Iruka pulled back, but didn’t unfist his hands from the wild silver hair. “I think you’re just going to have to be further behind in reading those notes.”

“But I’m sure they’re filled with all sorts of good ideas. We might even want to try a few out.”

“Later.” He pulled the head back down. “Much later.”

“Let’s not do it in front of the plants. Don’t want them to get any ideas,” Kakashi murmured in between deep kisses.

Iruka snorted slightly, but dragged his insane boyfriend towards the bedroom.

Because plants or no, insanity or no, Kakashi didn’t have to go anywhere for a week and that meant that it was going to have to take a lot more than those two things to pull Iruka away.

x Fin x

Da Da Da Daa Dada Daaaaaaaaah

Sat, 14 Feb 2009 09:04:41 GMT

Candy Hearts and Lack of Discretion

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Kazuya Minekura’s Saiyuki and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summary: Sanzo is cranky and Goku wants to let him know something

Author’s Note: Written for SilverMyst. Possible out-of characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 14 February 2009

Rating: K+

They weren’t even bothering to be discreet any more. Before, they had at least pretended for the sake of decorum and he could act as if there was nothing happening. He liked telling himself that he didn’t know what those two bastards were doing or why the rooming arrangements had been the same for the last seven hotels.

But now...things were getting out of hand. It was like they didn’t care anymore and that they could do whatever they pleased, wherever and whenever they pleased.

It was getting so bad that the damn monkey was noticing.

Worse, he had started to ask questions. Questions like ‘what’s he mean by that’ and ‘why can’t we have that empty room on the other side of the hotel’ and ‘whadda mean, could I please aim one of my kicks higher so they’ll knock it off’.

Goddamn, it was moments like this that made him think that he had some serious karmic debt that the universe was forcing him to pay off.

It was getting to the point that he thought that if he quitted smoking and vowed to live a more priestly life, maybe it would end.

Of course, he could always put a bullet in that damn water sprite’s head. That’d put an end to things and he won’t have to give up his cigarettes.

There was also the plus if he got rid of Goyjo, he’d probably be rewarded karmically because the redhead often felt like a blight upon the earth.

Hakkai might not speak to him for a long time and he’d miss having conversations with the one person capable of intelligent thought, but the long drives would be much nicer because the monkey wouldn’t have anybody to argue with.

“Hey, hey, hey, Sanzo!”

Maybe if he ignored the loud brat, he’d go harass someone else.

“They have meat buns! Meat buns! And mango ice cream! Hey, hey, Sanzo! Can we get some? Huh? Can we?”

When Goku actually started yanking on his robe, Sanzo smacked him with his fan, never breaking stride. He had more important things to worry about than whether the stupid monkey had eaten in the last fifteen seconds or not. Maybe if he put a few cow hearts in Gojyo’s bed, the two might take the hint.

Or he could paint some of those sickening little phrase candy hearts with laxatives or something equally nasty...

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Sanzoooooo, why’d you do that?!”

“Shut up, you damn stupid monkey.”

“Why did you have to hit me? All I wanted to know was if I could have a meat bun and some mango ice cream and some bean paste and rice balls—”

“You’re starting to annoy me again.”

“But I’m hungry! Starving!”

“Eat your tongue, then.”

“Ew! I can’t do that! That’s gross! Plus, that’d make me a cannibal or somethin’.”

“Go bother Gojyo.”

“But he never has anything good to eat! Plus, he’s been all weird lately! And,” Goku added, “he’s off bangin’ boots with Hakkai again!”

Sanzo stopped cold. “What did you just say?”

“You know that’s what they’re doing!”

Sanzo smacked Goku with his fan hard enough that he broke it. “Do not,” he hissed, “say that sort of thing to me again! I do not want to hear anything like that out of your mouth ever again!”

“Ow!” Goku rubbed his head. “That hurt!”

“Maybe it will knock some sense into that empty head of yours.”

“My head isn’t empty! And I’m still hungry! Sanzoooooo!”

Sanzo gritted his teeth and went to find a new fan.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Goku was sitting like an obedient dog on the foot of his bed when he exited the washroom, sending off warning bells in Sanzo’s head. He was playing with those stupid little candy hearts as he waited.

Sanzo glared. “What?”

Big golden eyes peered up at him. “Are you angry at Gojyo and Hakkai because they’re having sex or ‘cuz they’re two guys?”

“What the fuck does it matter if the morons are guys? I don’t want to know about it.”

“So you’re angry about the sex bit?”

“What the hell are you trying to get at, you stupid monkey?”

“I...you...you never hit me that hard before. I jus’ wanted to know. An’...well, you always get mad when Gojyo’s screwin’ around, but never this mad an’...I jus’ didn’t want to make you mad like that again.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck who Gojyo or Hakkai bangs, so long as it’s discreet and I don’t know anything about it.” Sanzo lit up and felt the sweet smoke of nicotine fill his lungs.

Goku watched him for a moment. “An’ you’re pissed ‘cuz they’re bein’ loud about it.” This observation seemed to please the boy and he settled back on the bed, munching loudly on the hearts. He paused and held one out, shyly. “Want one?”

“Get the fuck off of my bed.”

He slowly slid off and padded over to his own bed. He then proceeded to watch Sanzo closely, making the priest all the more irritable.

The monk nearly snapped at Goku for being a moron, but then he noticed the small little heart left on his pillow. The little red letters proclaimed ‘Luv U’.

Sanzo threw it at Goku’s face and ignored the look that crossed the shorter boy’s face. “If you’re going to leave stupid messages on my bed, at least have the brains to leave one that knows how to spell.”

Goku blinked, and then smiled a big, brilliant smile. “Okay!” He attacked the little box furiously, flipping through the little candies.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing by Sanzo’s bed. “Sanzo! I hafta get more! They don’t have the one I need!”

Glaring, Sanzo rubbed out a spot on his gun. “Tough.”

“But Sanzo—!”

“Damn it, monkey, I’m not letting you waste our money on such crap! Besides,” he carefully polished the barrel, “I got the fuckin’ point from the first damn heart.”

“...oh. Um...well, um, Sanzo?”

“What the fuck do you want now?”

“Can I...can I kiss you?”

He actually stopped his cleaning. “What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Sanzo scowled hard at his ward. “Don’t be so stupid and ask such dumb questions.”

Goku seemed to shrink a little. “...Okay,” he said miserably.

The monk rolled his eyes. He reached out, fisted Goku’s undershirt, and pulsed.

The kiss could barely be called one, being heavy, fast, and too sloppy. Goku jerked a little and stared.

Sanzo ignored him and went back to cleaning his gun. “Now leave me alone. I’m busy.”

Goku blinked a few times, and then he lunged forwards, giving Sanzo a huge hug. “Love you!” He yelped before racing into the safety the bathroom provided him.

Stupid monkey. He was damn lucky that Sanzo didn’t have his gun assembled right then. And while the recent turn of events was not entirely unwelcomed, he still had to figure out what to do with Gojyo and Hakkai.

Maybe it was time to give them a taste of their own medicine. See how they liked it when people weren’t discreet.

x Fin x

It Starts With An Earthquake, Birds, Snakes, And Aeroplanes

Sun, 08 Feb 2009 07:03:17 GMT

Terms of Endearment

Summary: Kakashi figures out what Iruka’s really saying

Author’s Note: In the Favourable Bachelor Universe, but can be read alone. Possible out-of-characterness, deeply skewed logic, abuse, and a bunch of dysfunctional derangement.

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 8 February 2009

Rating: T

Kakashi was pretty sure that he had finally figured it out. Being the genius that he was, he had--at long last—cracked the code of the language of Umino Iruka. He hadn’t figured out all the details and tones for other people, but he felt certain that he had worked out the parts that pertained to him, and really, that was the only part that mattered.

Normally, the breaking of such a complex code would call from some sort of celebration or some bragging rights, at least, but Kakashi kept his mouth shut. It would do him no good if the entire village understood.

Just imagine how embarrassing it would be if, say, Genma knew that ‘I’m going kill you!’ really meant ‘after this chase and your apology and hot sex, we need to talk about what just happened like rational adults’.

Or how awkward it would be if Anko knew that ‘you dumb-ass bastard! Get back here!’ actually meant ‘Sweetie-pie, you goofed and I’d like to explain why I’m hurt’?

How embarrassing it would be if Ibiki found out that ‘brainless, blundering baboon!’ translated to ‘honey-bun’?

No, it was for the best if Kakashi was the only one who knew.

He liked being the only one to know that ‘what the hell were you thinking!’ translated to ‘while I appreciate your efforts to help me out and it was very sweet of you to try, please let me wash the whites from now on, okay?’ and ‘you...you...you!’ meant ‘how wonderful!’ He enjoyed knowing a twitching eyebrow equated an ‘aww’ and a suspicious glare really told of admiration and flattery. It was nice to come home to ‘you moronic nincompoop! Stop bleeding all over the place before I kill you and bury your few remains under the floorboards!’ Understanding that really translated to ‘I was worried sick about you and I hate seeing you wounded! Let me help you bandage those up.’

The only thing he hadn’t worked out was when Iruka said that he wanted Kakashi’s head on a platter. Kakashi couldn’t tell if that was Iruka’s way of saying ‘please stop doing that’ or if was Iruka having castration fantasies again.

Still, he felt fairly confident that he had broken the code and now knew how to properly respond to each and every situation.

So when he had to be hospitalised after a particularly nasty mission and Iruka was standing by his bed, hurling profanities over the nurses’ attempts to get him to be quiet, Kakashi felt he knew the right way to responde.

“I’ll try to be more careful nest time,” he slurred sleepily. “Don’t like worrying you.”

“You simple-minded, two-bit, idiotic dunderhead! This isn’t about worry!”

“I know,” he managed to get out before Iruka could start another tirade and he felt asleep. “Love you, too.”

Later, when his brain was working and not under the influence of painkillers anymore, he wondered if maybe he hadn’t worked all the nuances quite yet because, for the first time, Iruka had nothing to say.

A week later, he knew that he had nothing to worry about because he really had mastered the complex language of Umino Iruka when Iruka punched him for restarting the gossip mill on their love life again and Iruka screamed at him ‘don’t think that you’re going to get away with this, you asshat!’

It was good to know that Iruka loved him, too.

x Fin x

Easy Come, Easy Go

Sun, 08 Feb 2009 06:55:53 GMT

Store Competition

Summary: Iruka’s store has its annual competition and he finds himself shackled with Kakashi for it

Author’s Note: Written for BobbyTeenager. Alternate universe, possible out-of characterness, and random illogicalness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 8 February 2009

Rating: T

Iruka sipped his root beer and waited to see what this year’s company competition would be. He had high hopes for this one because Kotetsu and Izumo had signed up to be in charge of that part of the company’s meeting and they always made things interesting.

Also, once the competition started, he could get away from his Evil Incarnate Boss, Kakashi.

He could feel the bastard’s eyes watching him, waiting for yet another chance to harass Iruka. Because of the jerk, he had given up his kohl and tight jeans at work. It just was not worth the effort of dealing with the asshole and his muttering about policy.

He still hadn’t figured out why Kakashi had it out for him or what he had done to make the man go after him so ruthlessly, but it seemed that everyone else knew. Kotetsu would snigger, Izumo would roll his eyes, Anko would call him a thick-headed Captain Oblivious, and Ibiki would just stare at him and say ‘I think that it’s rather obvious’. Genma and Raidou weren’t any help, either. Kurenai would only pat his shoulder while Asuma would hand him the employee handbook, saying maybe things would make more sense if he review a policy or two, specifically the ones about the company’s take on relationships.

“Okay, it’s time to prove who’s competent and who isn’t!” Anko yelled over the crowd and Iruka felt a sense of dread settle in his stomach. Anko was in on the competition planning? Goddamn it. All of his hopes for a fun, pleasant competition flew out the window; Anko was a bulldozer and she would have flattened any good ideas from Kotetsu and Izumo.

Plus, she would have found a way to make things less than family friendly.

“We’ve set up a course for everyone here that will test you in the core principles of the store!” Anko bellowed, ignoring the fact that the space was quiet.

“Tests in cashiering, customer service, reshelving, zoning, and of course—”

“Your speed and accuracy will be factored in.” Kotetsu finished Izumo’s sentence.

“Everything will be judged by Anko, Kotetsu, me, and Tsunade,” Izumo said. “Managers will be participating as well, and the prize for placing will be a gift certificate, as well as an extra ten percent off of your employee discount for the next month for first place”—an excited murmur ran through the crowd at this—“And that will be in effect over Employee Discount Days, as well.”

“Think about it folks—you could win an extra ten percent off the forty percent they have during Discount Days! Imagine what you could save on your holiday shopping!” Kotetsu added gleefully, clearly loving the effect his words were having.

Iruka felt his eyes glaze a little at the prospect. The gift cards—usually generous—would be enough to drive the competition, but the promise at an extra discount over the company’s generous holiday policy? He wondered how many bodies and ruined books he was going to have to clean up after all was said and done.

Still, an extra ten percent…

“You’ll be working in pairs—pre-selected, so don’t even think about it, Sarutobi!” Anko’s loud voice brought Iruka back to reality. He watched as the bearded man give the boisterous woman a nasty look, but made no more attempts to grab Kurenai as a partner. “And to not only represent the bonds of teamwork and dedication that we share with our co-workers, but to stop any one team from cheating or having one person do all the work…” With a flourish, she grabbed a hand from both Izumo and Kotetsu and before they could react, she had handcuffed them together. “..You’ll be stuck to your partner until the whole thing’s over!”

Where the hell did she come up with these ideas?

Not that Iruka ever wanted to really know, but really. Handcuffs? That’s what the money was being spend on? Whatever was wrong with giving a few of the part-timers more hours or getting handicapped-accessible doors?

“And before you worrywarts”—here she glared at Iruka—“start yammering on about misplaced funds and crap like that, all of these are mine.”

“Too much information!” Someone yelled over the groans and scandalised yelps.

“Shut up or I’m gonna keep the first place prize for myself!” The group fell silent instantly. “Good. Now, here are the teams!”

Kurenai didn’t look thrilled when she ended up with Gai (who was loudly announcing how Youthful and Brilliant the competition was) and Asuma appeared to be just as excited at the prospect at being Tsume’s partner.

As the pool of possible partners dwindled, Iruka began to worry. His hopes for being attached to someone he liked and was good were vanishing rapidly. Crap, at this rate, he was going to end up with—

“And Iruka and Kakashi!”

Iruka stared at his former friends, ignoring the cries of ‘no fair!’ and ‘why even have a competition if you’re just gonna put those two together?!’ He couldn’t believe that they had just done this to him. How could they! Genius or not, Kakashi was going to make his life miserable. The man hated him, and now they had to spend the next hour or so cuffed to each other?

Iruka imagined hell would be something like this.

He stared at his wrist forlornly. Maybe he could claim the root beer had made him sick...?

Kakashi gave him a nasty look when he didn’t start running towards their checklist.

“I saw Kotetsu in the Children’s section and the Hobbies/Craft section earlier and Izumo futzing around in Newsstand,” Iruka said by way of explanation, “and I’m pretty sure I saw Anko sulking in from Sexuality section. I can almost guarantee those will be the sections that people will have to recover.”

“And you think you’ll be special enough to get them, don’t you.”

“Well, I certainly don’t think we’re going to be lucky enough to get something like Bestsellers or Fiction,” Iruka observed, pointedly trying to ignore Kakashi’s snarky tone and trying to see what their list said. Sure enough, they were slotted to recover Sexuality and Children’s. Sexuality wouldn’t have been anything more than an extreme annoyance if he had been paired with anyone other than Kakashi (he didn’t care how well the jerk knew the section; the bastard was always making comments that made Iruka’s ears bleed) and he normally would have been thrilled to have Children’s, but Kakashi had a tremendous dislike of children and all things children-related.

“Do you think you’ll be able to handle the register part without your usual inability to count getting in the way?” Kakashi’s indolent voice broke Iruka from his thoughts as he started dragging the younger man towards the front of the store.

Iruka swallowed (with difficulty) his nasty response. “Maybe you’d like to do the money handling part,” he offered blandly instead, “seeing as you tend try to avoid actually talking to the customer?”

A single grey eye shot him a dirty look. “Fine, you can do that part. But don’t think you can get away with not mentioning the card, like you have with the last two secret shops.”

Iruka grit his teeth, but didn’t get a chance to say anything because they had reached the front of the store. Determinedly, he pasted a smile on his face. Knowing Anko, she’d probably dock them points because Iruka was something like unnecessarily or inappropriately cheerful, but he figured losing points would be better than losing his job. He was dangerously close to strangling someone, and that someone wore an eye patch and was currently cuffed to Iruka’s left hand.

Kakashi seemed to go out of his way to make the rest of the competition miserable. He kept reading sections from Icha Icha aloud while Iruka tried to straighten the shelves. He wouldn’t touch anything with Elmo, Dora, Harry Potter, Clique girls, Hannah Montana, Edward Cullens, or a markdown sticker on it, grumbling loudly as Iruka dragged him back—again—to put said things back in Children’s. He wouldn’t pick up the ‘phone’ when it started to ‘ring’ and he mocked Iruka when he tried to help the ‘customers’. He stood too close to Iruka, deliberately changed his pace so Iruka was always rushing to keep his arm attached or crashing into the jerk, and he gave Iruka pitying looks when Iruka had to scan something to see where it would go. It wasn’t fair that Kakashi had photographic memory and Iruka didn’t.

He almost snarled at Izumo when he shoved the checklist at him. His former friend wisely kept his mouth shut.

He stuck his wrist out impatiently when Izumo made no move to remove the damn handcuffs.

His co-worker looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Anko’s the only one who’s got keys,” he mumbled. “And I don’t think right now’s a good time to bother her.”

Iruka decided—carpool or no—that Izumo and Kotetsu were walking home tonight.

Growling. he dragged his evil boss over to a table and tried to sit as far away as he could and still have his arm attached to his body. Unfortunately, Kakashi couldn’t take a hint and sat WAY too close. He then proceeded to point out everything Iruka had done wrong.

Just when it had gotten to the point where Iruka was convinced no jury in the universe could—or would—find him guilty of murder, Kakashi shut his big, fat mouth. The lack of abuse was unexpected, but greatly welcomed. He didn’t have to worry about losing his job over killing Kakashi!

Kakashi cleared his throat and Iruka ignored it. He didn’t care if his Boss from Hell was uncomfortable with the lack of interaction between them; in fact, the less interaction between the two of them, the better. Any more belittlement or disparagement and Iruka was going to snap.

“How’s book two of Journal of a Dumb Sissy been doing?”

Iruka eyed the other man. “Diary of a Wimpy Kid,” he corrected warily. “And it’s the third in the series.”

“Right, The Camel’s Back.”

“The Last Straw. It’s been doing fine.” He tried to keep the suspicious out of his voice. Kakashi was seeming genuine and pretending that he was a normal human who really was interested in Children’s books; what was he up to now?

“How’s that other book been doing? The one about the kid? Who has a sword? With magic?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Was Kakashi actually making an attempt to be nice to Iruka? Was he trying not to be the biggest dickwad ever?

Kakashi awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “The one with the monsters?” It was obvious that the man was putting forwards some effort to have a conversation, but to what end, Iruka couldn’t figure it out. This was the first time since he had started working here that his manager had ever made even the smallest attempt to not to be a bastard.

He was spared any more awkwardness by Anko loudly announcing the scores were in. Third place went to Chouza and Ibiki, and then another bombshell was dropped. “There’s a tie for second place,” Anko bellowed, “so we have to have a tie-breaker to see who comes in first and who doesn’t!”

Iruka found himself being dragged to the front by Kakashi to face Gai and Kurenai. The woman caught his eye and rolled hers in sympathy. Both of them could see their partners gearing up for whatever challenge Anko had thought up for them.

“You have to kiss your partner,” she declared and a wave of sniggers followed it.

“I have a boyfriend!” Kurenai protested loudly.

“I do Not think that this an Honourable Way to end such a Noble Competition, especially with People having Wonderful and Established Relationships—”

“BOYFRIEND, Anko! NOT dildo attached to cardboard cut-out!”

“Fuck this,” Iruka muttered. He was sick of Anko and her games. He was tired of being attached to Kakashi. He was annoyed at the free entertainment at his expense.

He reached up, grabbed the back of Kakashi’s head, and mashed their mouths together viciously. He let go, and glared at the suddenly-silent Anko. “We won. Give us the damn prizes and unlock us.”

She recovered faster than the rest of the room did. “Well, well, Iruka! You dog! I never knew you had it in—”

Iruka seized the front of her shirt and yanked. “Unlock. Me. NOW.”

She meekly did so.

Iruka stormed passed Kakashi, who still looked stunned and hadn’t moved since Iruka had taken the situation into his own hands. Nobody said anything to him as he returned to his seat and he knew the next week or so, his co-workers would be tiptoeing around him.

He glared at the front of the room and decided Anko would be the first to feel his wrath. Gift certificate and extra ten percent or not, she had orchestrated a good part of this mess and thus would be the first to fall.

He had the feeling that she was going to be on the porn-in-the-bathroom cleanup crew a lot in the future.

x Fin x

Takes Me Back

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 08:40:31 GMT

Tradition

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece

Summary: Remus remembers

Author’s Note: Written for UselessXRayVision. Possible out-of characterness, lotsa angst, and more angst. Post Order of Phoenix

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 25 December 2008

Rating: T

Remus carefully shut his door and turned the key. If he laid low for a bit, Molly—well-meaning as she was—would forget about him in the hustle and bustle of the preparations for when her children came home for the holidays.

And alone is what he wanted to be right now.

Methodically, he pulled all the curtains down over the closed blinds. Each window had a particularly nasty curse keyed into the locks, so if someone tried to bother him, they would be faced with some rather uncomfortable and unsightly…‘growth’. The lock in the door was given a similar treatment. The heavy bed frame was levitated and situated in front of the door and he shut off the radiator. The walls, floor, and ceiling were encased in numerous silencing spells. Everything in the room was diligently placed in drawers and the closet until the only thing left in the middle of the room was an old oaken table, a chair, and a few cardboard boxes.

He made sure that his wand and his books were secure before carefully sitting down at the table.

He hadn’t revisited this tradition in two years; it had been a while since he had felt the need to do it. Still, in light of the year’s events and the return of the holiday season, he knew it was going to be necessary.

Reaching down, he pulled a box towards himself. Gently—almost tenderly—he removed a heavy glass tumbler and a heavy bottle. Slowly, he worked the bottle open and poured the strong liquid into his glass.

Remus studied the glass for a moment. Then he raised it up in a mock salute. “To you,” he said quietly before tossing it back quickly.

The alcohol hit him harshly and he coughed violently. He’d forgotten how much this stuff burned. Already, he knew his liver was shrieking in agony. A few more glasses and his liver would be so overworked in trying to get rid of the toxins that he wouldn’t be able to feel it anymore.

He poured another glass, trying to keep all the liquid in the tumbler. It wouldn’t matter later, he knew, once his coordination was gone. There would be no finish on the table by the time the night was over and there would be new patches on the wall from where the alcohol had eaten the paint.

Around the time he got half-way through the first bottle, the memories started to come back.

Terrible, bright, horrible reminders, they came. Dancing and mocking him in their tarnished innocence and pain, they clamoured to make him remember everything.

He remembered snow the most.

Sirius had always loved the snow. Its cold whiteness was the exact opposite of his hot-headed darkness, but they complimented each other well. Few things made the roguish boy happier than freshly fallen snow. He’d grab his mittens, hat, and Remus, and race outside to romp—both as a human and as Padfoot—and then to lay on his back and watch it coat the world in beauty.

Snow would always make Remus think of Sirius.

By the end of the second bottle, he could almost hear Sirius’s voice.

Don’t be a lump, Moony! Come ON! Put that book AWAY! It’s snowing!

If you come, I’ll make it…worth your while…

Come, Moony…come with me, Remus…

REMUS…!

Remus shuddered painfully as the memories swamped him. Recollections of playing in the snow, chasing Sirius, catching him and tumbling into the snow…finding new ways to tie those wandering hands and exploring different ways to warm up. Remembering reacquainting himself with Sirius’s body, the joy of knowing that he was innocent and he was still Remus’s.

Something torn between a sob and a howl ripped itself from Remus’s throat, but the memories—along with the alcohol—kept coming.

He hated remembering, but every December, he made himself remember Sirius in all of his beautifully flawed glory. He had started when Sirius was first imprisoned and he was first faced with the holidays without anyone left. The second year was because he still couldn’t move on. After the fifth time, he had finally acknowledged his tradition and started to plan his month around it.

Then Sirius had come back and it wasn’t necessary any more. He could remember in peace.

But now…now, not even the alcohol was dimming his pain. He was too raw and the memories came too fast for him to stop. Everything that he wouldn’t recognise in his daily life came flying at him and he couldn’t duck. Wouldn’t let himself duck.

It was only then—in those moments when the alcohol was slowly poisoning him—that he could grieve for what was forever out of his reach.

x Fin x

His Eyes, Aflame

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 08:12:16 GMT

Family

Summary: Chouji asks if he can spend the holidays with the Naras

Author’s Note: Written for Quirkerstein. Possible out-of characterness

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 25 December 2008

Rating: K+

Chouji was wringing his hands again.

Shikamaru wondered what was worrying his friend enough that he was reverting back to his gennin-day behaviour, but waited. Chouji told him everything, always. Whatever it was that was making the broad ninja nervous, he’d spit it out soon enough.

“So…” Chouji cleared his throat finally. “The holidays are coming up.”

Shikamaru blew out a cloud of smoke. “Yeah.”

“I…I was wondering…since…you know, dad died…if—if I could…maybe not spend it at my place? I mean,” the bulky ninja hasten to explain. “I know it’s rude of me to invite myself like that but I really don’t want to be alone—”

“I thought I already invited you.” Shikamaru looked over.

“Oh.” Obvious relief spread over the round face. “I must have missed that. Then ignore that last bit!”

“You know you’re always welcomed,” Shikamaru said, knowing how hard it had been on his friend, with his parents gone.

A soft pink rose in Chouji’s cheeks. “Well, I just didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume anything.”

Shikamaru snorted. “Presumptuous? You? Please. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Anyhow, mother said if you didn’t come, she’s force us all to come and storm your place. Wearisome woman.”

“We can’t have that, now can we?”

Something in Chouji’s voice made Shikamaru look over sharply. He narrowed his eyes slightly. “What?”

“What?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s—” Chouji started to say, but stopped the moment that Shikamaru narrowed his eyes further. He finally sighed. “It’s just…the holidays are a time for families. Are you sure that I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“I already told you that mother would make you participate in our festivities. I would think that was a clear indication that you were family.” Shikamaru snubbed out his cigarette. “I’m fairly sure that if she could, she’d be changing your birth certificate right now and planning a list of chores for you to do.”

Chouji blinked. “…You consider me family?”

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. “Tch, troublesome.” He flopped down, his head landing on Chouji’s warm thigh. “Of course you’re family. Why else would she be nagging you?” Still seeing too much insecurity in his friend’s eyes, he decided that maybe Chouji needed to hear a little more. “I’ve always thought so; don’t you consider me family?”

“I…of course. I mean…I just don’t cook barbeque for anyone.”

“Mm, I know.” He grinned lazily up.

Chouji smiled back, a little shyly.

Shikamaru relaxed and shut his eyes; he had always known that Chouji would make a comfortable pillow, but this was the first time he had tried it. He also was pleased that Chouji let him. Maybe at a later time, he could try for Chouji’s stomach; that would undoubtedly be comfier.

“Is your mother trying to invite Temari-san again?” Chouji asked.

“Oh, gods…don’t remind me of that!”

He laughed. “But Shika-chan, what about that daughter and son you’re always talking about? You can’t have them by yourself!”

“Maybe I’ll adopt. It’ll probably be less bothersome.” Shikamaru cracked open an eye to watch his friend’s reaction.

“Adopt? But I thought you wanted to have your own.”

“They would be my own if I adopted them.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Chouji sounded apologetic. “I meant…I thought you wanted to pass on your genes. Reproduce.”

“You need women for that.”

“Well, yes. Women are sort of an important part of the equation.”

“I haven’t met a female who hasn’t been troublesome, much less one who has been attractive enough to turn my thoughts that way.”

“…Oh.” Chouji paused. “Have you thought about…you know, donating and going from there?”

“Once or twice. I might do that later. I’d like to have a stable relationship and a place of my own before I look too much into that.”

Chouji blinked. “But you just said…”

“That women are troublesome?”

“Yeah.”

“Relationships don’t have to be exclusively between men and women.”

Chouji’s face turned a fabulous shade of red. “Of—of course not.”

Shikamaru shut his eye again and felt slightly victorious. It would shut his mother up if Chouji picked him up on his offer and save him a lot of trouble in the long run. He just hoped that he hadn’t been reading his friend wrong for all these years.

“Shikamaru?”

“Yeah?” He didn’t open his eyes; if he knew Chouji, the Akimichi would be more comfortable if he didn’t watch him.

“Would you…would it be…are you…did you want…could I…I mean…I would like to…” He could hear Chouji give up. “…Would you like to go out next Friday?”

“On a date?”

“…Yes.”

“I don’t know. That sounds like it might be a lot of work.”

“Maybe…maybe I would make it worth your while.”

Oh, that was new. Shikamaru hadn’t thought that Chouji would be so deliciously forward about things. He started to open his eye when he felt a hand on the back of his head, urging him up. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and as the lights changed, knew that Chouji was bending over him.

He smirked slightly, but it was wiped off of his face quickly as warm lips lightly brushed over his.

Chouji pulled back way too quickly. “Friday?” He prompted.

Shikamaru smirked again. “Do I get to tell my mother that I already have a boyfriend and don’t need her blatant attempts to pair me off if I agree?”

“Well, you did say I was family…don’t you think it that this would make it a little more official?”

“Mm, you do have point. I suppose I can be bothered to go out on Friday.”

“Good.”

And then warm lips were back and Shikamaru happily noted that he was going to have to tell his mother at a much later date that the family was getting bigger.

x Fin x

Bwaawwwn Ba BAAA!

Wed, 24 Dec 2008 09:25:27 GMT

The Afterlife

Summary: The afterlife is better then Kakashi could have EVER imagined. Not a death fic.

Author’s Note: Written for Earwen. Possible out-of characterness and no death or angst. Also unbeta’d

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 24 December 2008

Rating: NC-17

Kakashi was dead. Gone on to a better place. Now knew heaven. Seen the light at the end of the tunnel. Heard angels sing. Was with the gods—

“Kakashi.”

He was so dead; it was the only explanation that he could think of.

That, or he had hit his head after an extreme bout of chakra depletion. Or he had ingested his body weight in hallucinogens. Or Itachi had suddenly decided to put his Sharingan to a much better use. Or Tsunade had spiked the punch again. Or Gai had put him headfirst through the Hokage Tower walls again. Or Grass was trying a new genjutsu poison again.

“Kakashi.”

Hmmm…no, he was dead. And the afterlife was better than he could have ever hoped for.

Mmmm…

“Kakashi, you’re drooling again.”

Bah, who could care about a little thing like drool at a moment like this? There were much more important things to think about—like getting started on eternity with that.

Ohhhhh yeaaaahhh…

“Do you have another nose bleed?!”

Blood, schmud! He lunged.

He suddenly found himself tangled in a web of chakra string and felt indignation set in instantly. There shouldn’t be anything stopping him from reaching his goal in the afterlife! He was supposed to be able to spend the rest of eternity doing what—and who—he wanted!

Unless…

What if this wasn’t supposed to be a reward but a punishment? He had to spend the rest of eternity with THAT right out of reach…

What a horrible, awful, terrible way to spend the rest of eternity! Never allowed to touch…never allowed to taste…forced to only watch…

Well, watching wouldn’t be that bad, if only he got more than tapping feet and angry glares.

“You were late,” Kakashi was informed darkly.

“And what gave you the idea that you could just waltz in and do whatever you please, hmm?”

“Not to mention you’ve gotten blood all over the place, again.”

“It won’t be so bad if you occasionally actually cleaned up after yourself, but you never do.”

“And don’t you dare start spouting off some lame excuse that I’m—”

“—WE’RE—”

“Fine, we’re so hot that you can’t be bothered with little things like blood stains!”

Both Irukas glowered at him hotly and damn, if that wasn’t one of the hottest things that Kakashi had ever seen!

“He’s not listening to a word we’re saying, is he?” The Iruka on the left—Kakashi cheerfully dubbed that one as ‘Iruka Sexy-Ass’—said with a resigned air.

“Probably imagining us kissing or something,” the other Iruka— hence from this point would be known as ‘Iruka Pert-Ass’—muttered as he rolled his eyes.

“Well, with him looking at us like that, I don’t think we really have to worry about Genma-san any more.”

Genma? What the fuck did Genma have to do with anything? Why was that stupid moronic tobujou even being mentioned? Who wanted to talk about something as dumb as Genma when they had two—TWO!—Irukas standing in front of them?

There was a problem. There was too much talk of useless things and not enough sexing of any kind occurring.

If only Iruka Sexy-Ass would grope Iruka Pert-Ass a little or maybe grope him a little while the other one jerked off and watched…

“Are you even listening to us?”

“Do you have even the smallest idea of why we have you tied up there?”

Oh…so many different reasons! Which one to offer up first…? He finally picked a reasonably good one. “Because you don’t want me to interrupt the show you’re going to give me?” The hope was a little too obvious in his voice, but if it got him what he wanted, Kakashi didn’t mind sounding overly optimistic.

“I told you he wasn’t listening to us.” Iruka Pert-Ass grumbled. “I could see the lewd thoughts racing through that empty head of his!”

Hmm…seemed that it was the wrong answer…he tried again. “Because you wanted to experiment with a different kind of bondage?” He asked even more hopefully.

“Kakashi,” Iruka Sexy-Ass enunciated carefully, “what happened in the Mission Room this afternoon?”

The great Copy Ninja blinked. “I tried to give you a blow job.”

“No, after that.”

“I groped you.”

“AFTER that!”

“…I turned in my mission report?”

“What happened after you turned in your mission report?” Iruka Pert-Ass spoke very slowly.

“I left you a note about what we should do this evening!” He had some good ideas, too. Not as good as TWO Irukas, but they were good ideas, nevertheless. Maybe they could try them out on another day.

“Oh, for the love of—!” Iruka Pert-Ass began exasperatedly, but Iruka Sexy-Butt interrupted him.

“Do you remember a certain part of this afternoon where a certain orally-fixated, nameless tokubetsu jounin felt up your thigh?”

Kakashi frowned and thought very hard about the afternoon. “Did he do that before or after I accidentally knocked him into Naruto’s way?” Iruka had done THAT THING with his pen and Kakashi had gotten horribly distracted and walked into Genma, knocking the man into the orange loudmouth’s path.

“He doesn’t remember,” Iruka Pert-Ass sounded somewhere between amused and incredulous.

“That, or he didn’t notice.” The other Iruka slow stalked up to Kakashi and leaned in close. “He seems a little…one-track today.”

“He’s always that way.”

Kakashi probably started drooling again, but ignored that in favour of trying to kiss Iruka.

A strong hand stopped him. “Do you honestly think you’re going to get a kiss after all that?”

“…Yes?”

“And they call you a genius,” Iruka Pert-Ass grumbled, but Kakashi was sure there had been an undercurrent of affection there.

Iruka Sexy-Ass snagged the collar of his vest, effectively distracting him from just about everything else. “You know that I don’t like other people touching what’s mine.”

If all Kakashi’s blood wasn’t busy elsewhere, he was fairly sure that he’d be in trouble for bleeding over everything again. When Iruka got that possessive gleam in his eyes…

Yeah, Kakashi had died.

Being tied up didn’t matter any more, especially since Iruka Pert-Ass had pulled off his shirt and seemed interested in getting Iruka Sexy-Ass’s pants off.

He shoved his hitai-ate up as best he could in his current position. He couldn’t miss this! He wanted to remember for the rest of his days the sight of Iruka making out with the mirror imagine of himself. It would be hot enough to melt all the snow around him when he had to go back up to the Snow Country.

Much to his disappointment, the two Irukas stopped stripping each other when they got down to their underwear. He thought about complaining, but then they turned their attention on to him and he decided to see what they’d do next.

“I—we—don’t like seeing others touching what’s ours.” Iruka Pert-Ass informed him as they stalked over to him. “So when we see others thinking that they can get away with touching what’s ours, we get a little upset.”

“In the future, you had better be more aware of your surroundings so you know when someone is going to try to pull another stunt like that again and you can remove yourself from the situation.”

“And the fastest way to learned behaviour is positive reinforcement, don’t you agree?” A dependable hand slid over his vest seductively.

“Oh, most definitely.” Another hand petted his side.

Kakashi thanked whatever god thought that he deserved this. And then he thanked everyone that had made this moment possible, including Genma and the guy that had probably killed him.

In record time, his uniform had been cut away from his body and he was being attacked by two gorgeously hot mouths and four devouring hands. One of the Irukas—he didn’t get a good look to know which one it was—kissed him, hard and deep.

“You know who you belong to, don’t you?” The Iruka that was mouthing his hip bone breathed across his skin. “Only one person is allowed to do this to you.”

Kakashi pulled his back far enough to gasp out “two! Two are allowed to!”

Both Irukas stopped instantly. “What did you just say?” The one who had been kissing him said dangerously.

“Only…only two are allowed to do this!” Before he could get castrated—what a terrible way to spend eternity—he hastened to explain. “Iruka and Iruka’s clones.”

The two Irukas exchanged glances. “An acceptable amendment,” Iruka Pert-Ass decided before devouring Kakashi’s mouth again.

“Agreed.” Iruka Sexy-Butt leaned forwards and promptly sucked one of Kakashi’s balls.

Kakashi twisted one of his hands futilely. He wanted to touch all that skin and braid his fingers in that thick hair. He wanted. His want was almost tormenting him more than the two Irukas were.

“Mine,” Iruka Pert-Ass snarled and bit down on Kakashi’s lower lip. “No-one else is allowed to touch you.”

“No-one else gets taste you,” the other Iruka mouthed his way up to the base of Kakashi’s cock. “Only me—”

“Us.” The delectable mouth only pulled back far enough to hiss out the correction before it returned to consuming Kakashi.

Kakashi groaned deep in his throat as a hand smoothed its way across his chest. The groan grew and morphed as a hot mouth pressed up to that sensitive spot on his penis.

Iruka Pert-Ass’s mouth pulled away and teeth found the pale throat. Before Kakashi could fully voice his pleasure, Iruka Sexy-Butt’s finger began to circle his anus. Kakashi’s brain fractured a little bit more; Iruka didn’t often top, but he always very thorough when he did.

As a finger began to work its way inside, Iruka Sexy-Butt’s hand left Kakashi’s hip. Vaguely, the jounin wondered where it went, but since Iruka Pert-Ass bit a nipple at the same moment that the other Iruka deep-throated him, the matter was promptly forgotten.

Moments after the first finger worked its way inside of Kakashi, another finger started to worm itself next to the first one and multi-coloured eyes popped open. There were two first fingers—two left first fingers—inside him at this point.

“He can’t have all the fun!” The chunin nipping his chest said in lustful amusement at Kakashi’s surprised expression.

Kakashi had (gleefully) given up all hopes of ever escaping by the time the fourth finger was inside of him. If he was going to spend all eternity tied up, this was the way to do it.

At the same moment the fingers pulled out, Iruka Pert-Ass took his mouth back. Smirking at the whine, he slid behind Kakashi. “Remember…” he breathed into Kakashi’s ear, “you are mine.”

Then the blunt pressure forced his body to give way as Iruka Pert-Ass pressed in. “You…” he panted, “belong…to…me.”

Once inside, he did nothing and Iruka Sexy-Butt sat back, mouth maddingly far away. Kakashi’s whimpered and tired to shift his hips to simulate movement and to entice someone to do something.

Hands fell on his hip. “Patience.”

Iruka Sexy-Butt smirked as he slowly stood up. Then—before Kakashi could properly process what was happening—Iruka Sexy-Butt braced his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders and leapt up, curling his legs around the other two men.

Kakashi made a hideously embarrassing noise as Iruka Sexy-Butt slowly lowered himself onto Kakashi’s erection.

ShitdamnFUCK!

Kakashi would have died from blood loss at this point if he hadn’t died already. The mere idea of being in the middle of an Iruka-sandwich was quite possibly the single hottest thing in the world. Actually being in the middle of an Iruka-sandwich was so erotic that he was surprised when he didn’t immediately come right then.

And that was before either of them started to move; before any prostates were touched or any hickeys given or kisses exchanged; before fingers alternately pinched and caressed chakra points; before any lust-filled cries and moans filled the room; before the husky, earthy scent of Iruka aroused filled every pore of his body and the warm smoothness of perfect skin rubbed up against his.

Everything came together in perfect harmony for one blinding, brilliant moment, and then it exploded everywhere.

When the blackness cleared from Kakashi’s vision, a very smug looking Iruka sat in front of him. “You actually passed out?”

“Mmm.” On some level, he wondered if he should be denying that, but he felt so wonderfully content that he decided it wasn’t worth it. Besides, if he wanted Afterlife Iruka to do that again, he should stoke his ego as much as possible.

The self-satisfied look intensified. “Good. Nobody else has been able to do that; let that act as a reminder that you’re off-limits to everyone else.”

“Okay.” He tugged at the chakra string a few times. “Iruka, love?”

“Yes?”

“Could you let me go, please?” He wanted to touch. He’d been denied it before and he didn’t want to deny himself it in the fuzzy pleasure of the afterglow.

Iruka smirked and Kakashi felt a sudden rush of anticipatory dread race over him.

“Let you go, my dear man? Why, I don’t think so! For a lesson to be effective, one has to teach it more than once!”

Kakashi was so dead and in the perfect afterlife.

xXxXxXxXxXx

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Naruto and Sakura shrieked when they saw him.

“Around.” Kakashi concentrated on not sitting funny and keeping his posture properly lazy.

“THREE DAYS! THREE FUCKIN’ DAYS!” Naruto yelled in indignation, spluttering and not able to get much more than that out.

“That’s a new low for even you!” Sakura cracked her knuckles threateningly.

“Well, see, I was dead and enjoying the most beautiful and perfect afterlife when a well-meaning but poorly-informed green moron thought I would rather be alive and resuscitated me. And then a busty busybody showed up and…”

“LIAR!”

Kakashi shrugged and decided to train his team extra hard for not even attending his funeral.

As their incensed complaints and threats swirled around him, Kakashi settled back and pondered what he could do to get a repeat performance. Maybe if he took on the whole Akatsuki at once…or maybe he could just get Genma to grope his thigh again. Either plan sounded plausible to get Iruka to do that again.

x Fin x

I Walk A Hundred Streets Of Neon Lights

Wed, 24 Dec 2008 09:07:39 GMT

Off of the Market

Summary: Raidou doesn’t like how she keeps looking at him

Author’s Note: Written for DKF. Possible out-of characterness and unbeta’d

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 24 December 2008

Rating: T

Raidou tried to discreetly shift his weight so he could get rid of the wedge of cloth that was trying to crawl up his ass. It certainly wasn’t the worst costume that Genma could have picked, and it definitely wasn’t the most uncomfortable, but it still didn’t change the fact that he had pants creeping up his ass.

He decided to try and look on the bright side: He could have gotten talked into the butt-floss bunny stripper costume that Genma had been eying. That would have been…less then fun.

Anko winked at him again, her French maid costume slinking a little bit lower. He tried to pretend that he didn’t notice. Damn peripheral vision. If he didn’t look her way—no matter what she did with that damn feather duster—he could act like she hadn’t been hitting on him again.

She knew that he wasn’t on the market. In fact, she was the one to tell the entire village that Raidou wasn’t on the market any more.

So why she was hitting on him, he didn’t know.

Maybe he could blame it on the pants. It was a well-known fact that Anko had a thing for guys in tight pants. It was one of the reasons that Gai would never be safe from her.

He poked Genma. “She’s still staring at me.”

Genma leered around his senbon. “So am I.”

“Genma.”

“Well, I can’t help it. You look hot!”

“Hot or not, I don’t like being looked like I’m a piece of meat by someone I’m not dating.”

“Does she know?”

Raidou snorted. “She was the one who told everyone!” He adjusted the large sunglasses on his face.

“Do you think she even remembers at this point?”

“She hasn’t had that much to drink!” Raidou refused to look in the kunoichi’s direction. He slid off of his chair and into Genma’s lap.

“Whoa!” Genma nearly swallowed his senbon as Raidou ground down harshly and unexpectedly.

The scarred man plucked the long needle from his boyfriend’s mouth. “Hickey,” he ordered. “Right above the spiked collar so it’ll show.”

“…What?”

“I said give me a hickey. Make it clear that I’m not available.”

Genma didn’t need to be told a third time. Raidou groaned quietly as a hot mouth went to work on his jaw and shifted his weight appreciatively when hands slid over his hips and small of his back to grope his gluteus maximus.

He hummed approvingly as he felt Genma pull away. Ducking his head, he mouthed the warm curve of an ear. “Thank you.”

“If you really want to make it clear that we’re together,” Genma said a tich huskily, “we could leave together, right now.”

Raidou pretended to think about it, not that there was much to think about. His boyfriend looked delectable in that vest and Raidou had been itching to work it off ever since Genma had put it on earlier that day.

“Want to stake out your claim?”

“I’m only helping you remind Anko that she can’t have you,” Genma muttered, blowing lightly on the newly-formed hickey.

“Ah, when you put it that way…” Raiou’s fingers moved in the signs and he transported them out of there.

If that didn’t make it clear that he was taken, he didn’t know what would.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Anko popped an olive into her mouth and mentally sniggered. That had been completely worth the price of the admission, the free show of gropage alone making it worth while.

Genma was right; a hint of outside interest and Raidou would make a show of being with someone else.

She wondered what Raidou would do if she felt up his ass.

x Fin x

EHRRRR! EHRRRR!

Wed, 24 Dec 2008 08:52:19 GMT

Halloween at Iruka’s

Summary: A typical Halloween for Iruka

Author’s Note: Written for AngelicChaos. Possible out-of characterness and unbeta’d

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 24 December 2008

Rating: K+

Iruka blinked. Then blinked again.

Then he started throwing sharp, pointy things. “Out! Out! OUT! You’re WAY too old to be trick-or-treating!”

“But Irrruuuukaa-senseeeeeiii—”

“Did you HONESTLY think that crappy genjutsu would fool me?!” Iruka threw more spikey things at sensitive areas. “OUT! Before you live to regret what I’ll do to you!”

“My Lovely and Passionate Love, did you not think that you were a Little Bit Harsh?” Gai asked, rag in hand. It seemed he still was trying to get all the fake blood off.

“NO.”

“I believe they were only out for a Little Harmless Fun—”

“Gai, if you even think of defending them in any way, shape, or form, I’ll do the same thing to you that I’m going to do to them.”

Gai returned to scrubbing at his face with renewed vigour.

Iruka stole a piece of candy as he tossed his bowl on the coffee table. The number of children knocking on the door had decreased dramatically as the evening crawled into night and Iruka was pleased to note he wasn’t going to be left with a massive amount of candy, nor was he going to run out. He might have finally found the perfect amount of candy to buy.

“Was I properly Scary and Terrifying this year?” Gai asked, still trying to get the red out of his skin.

“Very much so.” Iruka reached up and pulled down one of his storage bins. He hated to pack up a holiday before it was over, but since he was going to be double-backing at his jobs in the next few days; it was either now or after the temperature plunged.

“Ah, let me help with that! It will be a Wonderful—”

“Fake blood off FIRST.” Iruka wrestled the bin away from his overenthusiastic lover. “I’m not going to be cleaning blood off of my decorations.”

“I shall Wash Off all of the Fake Blood in the Next Five Minutes or else I will Set Up all the Winter Decorations with One Hand!”

“Don’t take your skin off with it.”

“Do Not Fear! I shall not!”

The doorbell rang again and Iruka swooped up the candy bowl with one hand and a handful of shurikens in the other.

“Trick or treat!” A pink princess and a ghost chirped.

“Did you think I’m stupid?” Iruka asked in a deadly soft voice. “Do you honestly think that I’m that thick?!”

The ghost threw a nervous glance at the chunin and then grabbed the princess. “Sorry! Wrong house! We’ll be on our way now!”

“Iruka, Love—” Gai called out from inside the bathroom.

“Candy! CAAAAANDDDYY!!!” The princess wailed, flinging herself at Iruka’s bowl. “’Ruka-sensei always has the best stuff!”

Iruka threw the shurikens. The little princess dodged and lunged forwards, a triumphant look on her tiny face—

—Only to find herself being flung back against the far wall with a gigantic cardboard cut-out of an aging Icha Icha star bearing down on her. There was a horrified yelp and the cut-out was hit with a fire jutsu, which promptly activated the sprinkler system, soaking the two figures in the hall.

The ghost quivered as Iruka turned his murderous glare on him. “It was her idea!” He yelled, and then ran as fast as his legs could carry him in the other direction.

Iruka slammed his door shut crossly. “Damn jounins,” he muttered crossly. “Thinking that I’ll be fooled and give them free candy because they use some crappy genjutsu.”

x Fin x

Let Me Out!

But All He'd Come For Was Havin' Some Fun

Tada Nagasareru Dake Ashiato Dake Wo Nokoshite

And All I Know Of Love Is How To Live Without It

Don't Know Nothing

Dann Singe Ich Ein Lied Für Dich

How Can They See With Sequins In Their Eyes?

As You Float Away Into The Shimmer Lights

No Way, No Wa-a-ay!

What Really Makes The Difference Between All Dead And Living Things

It's Something I Couldn't Do

If You Need Me, Let Me Know

I Know That Hearts Can Change

'I Have No Opinion About This, I Have No Opinion About That'

That's No Way To Go

If You Can't Hold On

'Til Now, I've Always Got By On My Own

Da Da Da Daa Dada Daaaaaaaaah

It Starts With An Earthquake, Birds, Snakes, And Aeroplanes

Easy Come, Easy Go

Takes Me Back

His Eyes, Aflame

*Bwaawwwn Ba BAAA!*

I Walk A Hundred Streets Of Neon Lights

*EHRRRR! EHRRRR!*

Bwaawwwn Ba BAAA!

EHRRRR! EHRRRR!