it's a case of stop && play

kakairu

2008-10-07T22:27:35Z

Title: Who Knew?
Author: siriuslyremus
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own them, their not mine.
Summary: Unexplainable fluff. And a mask.

Kakashi often wondered what went through peoples’ minds when they first saw his mask.

Not that it bothered him at all. He had his own reasons for wearing it. Reasons he felt he didn’t need to shout out to the world. People were going to make their own assumptions and for Kakashi, that was just fine. No-one had yet risked their limbs and internal organs in an attempt to yank it down … unless, of course, you counted that one time Naruto had feigned an arms-above-his-head-stretch and his fingers had accidentally brushed against Kakashi’s mask with, in Naruto’s own words, no intentions whatsoever of pulling it down … riiight.

Kakashi wore his mask and that was that. The ladies wandered about Konoha thinking dreamy thoughts about a face so handsome, it would be a crime to have it on show. The men, well, that was different. They enjoyed coming up with stories about an acne scarred face so bad it would haunt children for the rest of their lives, or once a fellow had even come up to him and asked if he even had a face to be hiding. Granted the man was so drunk he was having this conversation with the tree to Kakashi’s right, at the time.

Yet, Kakashi knew the truth. He did have a face hidden under the fabric. He saw it every morning when he woke up and brushed his teeth. He felt it, daily, when he showered and washed his face. And he spoke from the mouth, firmly attached to the face, well hidden under the mask.

Thinking back he remembered an old woman once, smiling at him before tapping where his nose protruded from under the dark fabric. “Keep it a mystery, Kakashi-kun, save it for someone special.” She had said, before grinning and walking away.

To be completely honest, Kakashi had never thought that day would arrive. Which was why it both amused him and scared him witless to be sat gingerly on Iruka’s living room table, facing the teacher, about to reveal all of his secrets.

“Just … Iruka.” He started, voice gruff and low. “No-one has seen my face since I was … well …” His hand came out to waver at child’s height above the ground. “So … you know, it’s changed since then, it’s different. You might-”

“Fall madly in love with you, drop to my knees and ask you to marry me?” Iruka grinned. “Been there, done that. I asked you last week if you remember, and you said yes.”

Blushing, not that Iruka could tell, Kakashi lifted a hand to scratch at his messy nest of hair.

“Mah, that’s true Iruka but … that was before you’d, well, seen it.”

Iruka, much to Kakashi’s surprise, burst out laughing. “You’re talking like you’re about to show me a third limb that’s not technically supposed to be there! This is your face Kakashi, everyone has one and I’ve said, if you’re not comfortable showing me then you don’t have to. This isn’t a pre-requisite to marriage.” He smiled, comfortably.

“Yeah but, I can’t hide it forever. You have to see it at some point.” Kakashi mumbled.

“No, no I don’t.” The reply came without a hint of amusement. Iruka leant forward then, placing his open palms on Kakashi’s spread knees. “I kiss you with my eyes closed, or you remove the mask when it’s dark. It’s not like we’re missing out on anything in our relationship because I can’t see your face. If you’re never comfortable removing it, then don’t. I’m not saying I don’t want to see your face, I do, of course I do, but not at the expense of your feelings. Kakashi, I fell in love with you over the past year without ever seeing it. My feelings are never going to change, I can promise you that.”

Kakashi took a moment to take that in. Those words of love and the feeling of Iruka squeezing gently at his knees before he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Iruka’s.

Taking Iruka’s hands in his own, slowly, ever so slowly, he brought the fingertips up and slid them under the rim of his mask. Iruka, taking the gently given hint, gingerly pulled the mask down until it was resting just below Kakashi’s chin. Leaning back, he swallowed down a gasp.

… Kakashi wondered why, several minutes later there was still silence and Iruka’s eyes were watering from a distinct lack of blinking.

“Mah … say something? Anything?”

Iruka finally moved, face blushed red at the first sight of his soon-to-be-husband, and finally, finally pressed his lips against the lips he’d gotten to know only in the dark.

“You know,” Iruka grinned as his hair tickled Kakashi’s face and he saw the shapely, straight nose wiggle gently. “I always knew I was marrying the most handsome man in Konoha.”

fin

Grawh.

2008-08-15T01:32:11Z

So, graduation has come and gone and I'm officially:

1] No longer a student. This makes me sad, time to grow up and try start acting my age ;]

2] A holder of a BA Honours degree. Who would've thought it! ;]

Hopefully this means I'll be able to dedicate more time to writing (something other than an essay on horror literature and film) and being active around and about.

Wasn't an easy three years but I'd do it over again and again if I had the chance. Even if it meant my student debt would be so bad I could sink the Titanic with it ;] aha.

Cell Mate.

2008-06-14T20:24:36Z

Title: Cell Mate.
Author: siriuslyremus
Rating: PG [for now]
Summary: Mischa is sent to Torfen prison for a crime he didn't commit. Alone and scared, he has to come to terms with what's happened. And with Lank, his enigma of a cell mate.
Author's Note: Constructive criticism is appreciated and please excuse the shortness of this chapter, it had to start and finish somewhere and this is it.

The doors of Torfen Prison slammed behind him and he repressed a shudder. This couldn’t be happening to him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet here he was, locked up with a three year sentence hanging over his shoulders as the guard behind him grunted, urging him forward.

This wasn’t happening.

Shuffling along slowly, meek and frail and looking like he might pass out at any time, Mischa Taylor kept his eyes to the ground, trying to ignore the heckles and jeers of the other inmates shouting for the ‘new kid’.

“Hey,” the guard clasped his slim arm in a sweaty hand and Mischa looked up to find himself outside cell 77, “you’re in here. Hey, Lank.”

As the door to the cell was opened, Mischa noticed much to his dismay that there was already an occupant inside. The guy strode forward at the call of ‘Lank’ and Mischa barely had time to figure out whether it was his name before he was struck dumb, blinking behind his thick, black framed glasses.

This guy was … Mischa couldn’t think of a word for it. He just was. Over six foot at least, clad in only the horrid orange pants they doled out, t-shirt seemingly forgotten. He had long hair, longer than Mischa’s even, black, slightly wavy locks that fell down to touch his shoulderblades. He was thin but made up of wiry strength, body taught, like his skin had been pulled over already subtly defined muscle. His eyes were a piercing blue, Mischa noticed, only then realizing that he was staring … and being stared back at. Mischa’s bright green eyes hit the floor again.

“What the fuck is this?” Lank said, voice soft yet gruff, like he’d smoked too many cigarettes that day.

“This,” the guard spoke, pointing at Mischa “is your new cellmate. You think we brought all that stuff in for fun?” Mischa lifted his gaze minutely, eyes searching behind Lank’s body to spy his belongings sitting in the cell already. “Just deal with it.”

With that the guard practically pushed Mischa into the cell, barely giving this Lank guy time to move out of the way before roughly slamming the cell door shut and locking it. Mischa stood stock still, staring at the two bunk beds and the way his small pile of books had been thrown carelessly on the bottom bunk. Shifting on his feet a little, he raised a small hand to tuck his straight blonde hair behind his ear before daring to glance over at his now ‘cellmate’.

He was staring straight at him.

Lank stepped forward, far too close into Mischa’s personal space for his liking, and stared down at him. The staring eventually got too much for Mischa who, shakily, raised a hand, the other tucked around his own waist, hidden by the bagginess of the prison t-shirt.

“I-I’m M-Mischa.” He dared, quietly, eyes fixed somewhere on Lank’s chin.

“I don’t give a fuck. Stay on the bottom bunk and outta my way and we won’t have a problem.” With that, the guy placed two hands on his own bunk and hauled himself up to lay, seemingly forgetting Mischa was even there anymore.

This was gonna be a long night, Mischa thought to himself.

*

Two hours. That’s all it’s been.

Mischa inched backwards, trying to crawl even further into the wall at the corner of his bunk. He couldn’t take it. Prison was so noisy. He could hear everyone on the block, shouting, screaming at each other. Having conversations fourteen cells down.

His cellmate wasn’t helping. So far, he hadn’t moved from his bunk, hadn’t even spoken a word to Mischa and it was driving him crazy. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t spend three years holed up in the same place listening to all this crazy talk but having no-one to speak to. He couldn’t handle it.

Before he knew it, Mischa tasted salt. Wet, salty droplets on his lips that his tongue naturally slid out to swipe up. He was crying and he couldn’t help it. Before long he started sobbing, throat constricting with every breath he tried to pull in as his throat released hoarse, choked sounds.

“Hey!”

Mischa’s head shot up from where it had fallen onto his curled up knees and he found himself face to face with Lank. He’d finally deigned to show his face, having hopped down from his bunk, back curved as he bent, staring at Mischa.

“Stop crying. There aint nothing you can do about being here, you just gotta deal with it. You’re gonna get fucked over bad if you keep up with that shit in front of the other guys. The way you look aint gonna help but the least you can do is stop acting like a girl and quit with the tears.”

Mischa couldn’t help but take offence. A girl? He didn’t think he was acting like a girl. He’d just been sent down for three years for an offence he didn’t commit, he felt he had all the right in the world to be upset about it. Then again, having seen some of the prisoners on the way in, he felt Lank probably had a point.

“I-I just …” taking a deep breath, Mischa tried to steady his breathing and stop stuttering. “I just, I shouldn’t be here. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” He finished on a whimper, feeling more pathetic than ever.

“Yeah , well, no-one thinks they should be here kid. Me neither, and I fucking did the crime they hit me up for.” Lank didn’t ask, just took this as his cue to perch himself on the edge of Mischa’s bed, body tilted to face the young boy. “You just gotta deal with it right. Don’t show these guys weakness or they’ll tear you up in a heartbeat.”

Nodding gently in affirmation, Mischa slid his glasses off to clean the fog from them on the corner of his t-shirt. Something was still grating at him though.

“What did you mean about the way I look?”

Lank smiled, open mouthed, showing off prominent canines and slightly askew teeth. His tongue came out to lick at the tip of a canine and Mischa couldn’t help but stare. Lank lifted a hand and slid it through his hair, pulling the tresses back off his face and over his shoulder.

“You look … well, you don’t look like you could take yourself in a fight anyway. You’re the pretty boy. Those big green eyes and that blonde hair. The fact that you’re skinnier than any girl I’ve ever seen. Some guys are gonna take a liking to you. Only thing is, you aint gonna like it. Not even if it’s what you like normally.” Lank lifted an eyebrow, as if that was all the suggestion Mischa needed.

“What do you mean if that’s what I like normally?” Mischa’s face filled with color, cheeks burning.

“Well, you can’t tell me your first kiss was a girl right?” Lank stated, eyes fixed on Mischa as if he dared him to lie.

Mischa’s face was bright red and he felt compelled to argue. He couldn’t though, but not for the reasons Lank thought. How could you admit you were 19 years old and you’d never kissed anybody? He just answered with a soft, quiet “no.”

“Exactly.”

Mischa looked up, stared straight back at Lank as the taller man’s hand slid across the scratchy blanket covering Mischa’s bunk. There was something there, something in Lank’s eyes that Mischa couldn’t quite figure out. He honestly didn’t know if he wanted to at this point.

Heartbeats of silence later, anything to break that eye contact. Mischa felt like Lank was looking straight through him. “Lank. What are you in for?”

That was all it took to break the connection they’d somehow come across. Lank’s bright blue eyes clouded over and his thin, pink lips formed into a scowl.

“Get some sleep, be lights out soon.” And with that, Lank was gone, having hauled himself back up to his own bunk.

Mischa couldn’t deal with feeling alone again. It felt like Lank had left the cell, gone as soon as his eyes had clouded over and Mischa couldn’t help but hate himself for asking the question.

“Lank. Lank, I’m sorry.” Nothing, not a peep from his cellmate. Curling up on his bed, Mischa tucked his hands under the pillow and bit back a sob. “Lank” he whispered.

Not seconds later he saw an arm lean down between their bunks, a tissue clasped in the palm that Mischa gratefully took. He felt exhausted, the gesture being the last thing in the longest day of Mischa’s life, and he soon felt his eyes drooping shut, even behind his glasses. Just before he drifted to sleep, he remembered hearing something, spoken in that soft, gruff voice.

“Rob. Not Lank, what the guards call me. It’s Rob.”

tbc

[FIC] Stutter Me Simple.

2008-02-18T02:53:29Z

Title: Stutter Me Simple [3/?]
Author: siriuslyremus
Rating: PG [for now, will go up]
Summary: Tuesday is the simple, quiet, shy, stuttering adolescent. River is ... well, Tuesday isn't really sure.
Authors Notes: I'm not dead. I just hate RL.

Soft steps took Tuesday around the corner in the library where he sneaked a peek into the room he frequented every Friday. He couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face, braces and all. With his head just poked around the corner he could see River, already situated comfortably in the chair he always sat in.

This was a regular occurrence now. Every Friday, Tuesday would head out to the library like he always had done and each Friday for a month now; River had been there to greet him. They sat together and River listened as the blonde haired boy read, slowly sometimes. Fluently at other times, it depended really on the day he’d had. River never said anything either way; he’d just sit there patiently and wait for Tuesday to stumble through the words, helping him out sometimes if a particular word got stuck in his throat.

Tuesday was beginning to think he should’ve been named Friday. It had quickly become his favourite day of the week.

As if he knew he was being watched, River’s head tilted up, his hair swinging gently across his shoulders as he grinned lopsidedly at the boy by the door.

“Hello”

“H-Hey” Tuesday blushed, nothing unusual there, before entering the room and taking his seat on the sofa. “H-How a-are y-yo-you?”

“I’m pretty good baby, how are you?” River grinned, propping his chin on the back of the chair as normal.

Baby?! Me? Um… Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Tch, you idiot. It’s a term of endearment. Generally a good thing.

Tuesday’s eyes blinked back into focus from his inner monologue and he looked up to find River grinning at him.

“You’ve gone red again. You’re so cute”

“D-Do-Don’t t-te-tease m-m-me” Tuesday’s chin dropped to his chest, a frown marring his features as he tugged his reading book out of his bag and sat it on his lap. Cute? Cute could mean a lot of things. Bad things, like, aw cute, my grandma makes the same face, which is a definite example of things that don’t equate to River and Tuesday snuggle time.

Looking up through his lashes Tuesday sneaked a peek at the now quiet boy in front of him. The smile had left River’s face and he was just sat, watching Tuesday a little too intently for his liking. Tuesday began to fidget, more for something to do than anything.

“I’m not teasing you” River spoke quietly, the scrape of the chair moving across the floor almost covering the whispered words as he stood. “You’re cute when you blush and you’re cute when you don’t. Now budge up baby”

Tuesday gawped, looking up at the tall boy who was now angling for a seat on the sofa. The sofa Tuesday was sat on. Oh God. Being the submissive type who gives into things easily to avoid a beating, Tuesday’s natural urges took over and he scooted himself and his book over on the sofa… all the way over. Straight to the other side.

“How’s Alaska looking over there?” River chuckled half-heartedly at the distance between them as he flopped down on the sofa, pulling one leg up onto the cushion, the other steady on the floor so he was sitting with his legs parted.

Had Tuesday had any sexual experience of any kind he may have had an orgasm at the sight. Instead, he just managed not to drool.

“C’mere Tues.” River patted the space between his legs and Tuesday swallowed. Obediently, albeit slowly, he scootched his body back between River’s legs until he felt the boys arms come around him, holding him in a hug. He could practically feel every inch of River’s body. His back against River’s chest, his hips pressed back against angular bones and toned arms sneaking further around him to tighten their hold.

He could even feel River’s soft puffs of breath against his ear. Warm and slightly moist. That was breaking point. Tuesday couldn’t breathe properly, sat against River, soft and comfortable and warm and so nervous he couldn’t even pull air into his lungs.

His breathing laboured, Tuesday’s vision started to blur before he felt a soft hand stroking his hair back from his forehead, heard soft whispers in his ear and realized River was trying to comfort him.

“Shh, Tues. Take it easy. Shh, shh. Calm down baby.” River spoke softly, reassuring words of comfort as he gently rocked Tuesday a little until he felt the boy calm down, finally take a breath. “You okay now?”

Nodding slightly as he gulped in a lungful of air Tuesday shivered a little. He could still feel the heat in his cheeks and knew he must be redder then ever now. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to move out of the tight but gentle grasp River’s arms had around his body.

“You don’t have to read if you don’t want to Tuesday. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to … well I’m just sorry.” River spoke, voice still tentative. “Here, why don’t we just talk a while? I’ll give you a free shot, ask me whatever you want.”

Chuckling a little, Tuesday found it in himself to shuffle and slide down to a more comfortable level in River’s lap. Both facing the same way as they were, Tuesday couldn’t see River’s face and it seemingly gave him the courage to ask some of the questions that had been burning a hole through his mind recently.

“W-Wh-What school d-do yo-you go to?”

“Mm,” River murmured. “Don’t go to school.” At Tuesday gasp River chuckled. “Dropped out last year, wasn’t my thing apparently.”

“But, w-what do-does your m-mom think about t-th-that? S-She l-let you d-drop out of sc-school?.” Tuesday couldn’t find it in himself to believe that River’s mom would just let him drop out of school. His mother would have a fit! Tuesday remembered all the times he’d tried to get out of going to school and the way his mother would literally drag him there by the strap of his book bag.

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t live with my mom so I wouldn’t know what she thought about it.” River’s voice was soft, spoken like he only ever wanted Tuesday to be the one to hear.

“Oh.” Guilt swept upon the blonde boy as he shuffled a little. Seems like he’d put his foot in that one. “W-Well wh-where do yo-you li-li-live?”

“Live on my own.”

“What? Wh-Why? H-How can y-you aff-afford that? You’re on-ly 17!” Tuesday’s head twisted around to face River, cheeks still pink as he awaited an answer.

“Why? It’s just better that way. And I can afford it … well, I have my ways.” It wasn’t really an answer, Tuesday knew that, it was a cop out. But he couldn’t seem to bring himself to say anything about it when he then felt the distraction of River’s fingertips sliding along the patch of skin that had been exposed when Tuesday’s shuffling had made his shirt ride up.

“Anyway,” River smiled lopsidedly at Tuesday’s ‘eep’ of shock. “Enough about me. I wanna know all about you baby.”

Tuesday couldn’t help but think he hadn’t learnt much about River at all.

-

Once again, Tuesday found himself cursing just how close his house was to the library. His hand, (his warm, slightly sweaty palm) was held tightly in River’s own but it didn’t feel like it had been there long enough. Like it had just settled in to a new home and was now being forcefully evicted.

Tuesday thought that sometimes, his mind ran away with him.

“Home sweet home, huh Tues.” The blonde boy couldn’t help but feel a thrill of delight at the sad tone River’s voice carried. “I’ll see you next Friday though, right baby?”

Tuesday nodded, face streaked red, a colour that he’d realized was probably never going to go away for as long as he was friends with River.

Smiling, albeit a little sadly, River pressed a kiss to the back of Tuesday’s hand before laying it back at his side and walking off. Tuesday sighed, taking himself up the short path to his house and bounding the stairs to his bedroom whilst simultaneously shouting that he was back to his mother.

Slipping into his bedroom he closed the door behind him before tugging his clothes off with a sigh. Once out of his t-shirt and jeans, strewn over the floor as usual, he hopped onto the bed in just his boxers and pulled his journal out from under his pillow to add the day’s events to it.

Friday 17th.

River was there again today. At the library. He’d come to see me again and everything only this time, I didn’t really get any reading done at all. We just talked but he held me! He actually held me, like you know, touched me. I was practically sat in his lap with his arms around me and I could feel his whole body pushed up against me like…

His writing ceased and his head raised, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he heard a noise. Another noise followed it shortly, like a gentle tapping sound. Kind of sounded like a bird tapping at the window to get in.

The window.

Jumping up, Tuesday ran to the window and dragged his curtain back to see out. It was dark but he could just about make out the slim silhouette of someone in his yard. The list of people it could be was short and Tuesday was proved right when he tugged the window open and heard the familiar voice whisper:

“Tuesday!”

Tuesday grinned as he watched River walk up closer to the window and smile up at him.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your long hair!” River snorted back a laugh before having a good look about. Spying the drainpipe by Tuesday’s window he grinned before grabbing a hold of it and started to shimmy his way up.

“Do-Don’t! Y-You’ll hu-hurt you-your-yourself!” It was a little embarrassing but by the time Tuesday had managed to get the sentence out, River had already conquered the drainpipe and was hanging halfway into Tuesday’s open window with a smile on his face.

“You’re n-not a v-vam-vampire ar-are y-you?” Tuesday smiled softly. “I on-only s-see you at ni-night.”

Grinning, River leant in a little closer, voice soft and husky. “How about you invite me in and find out?”

Hello again red cheeks, how I’ve missed you in the 6 minutes you haven’t been here.

Tuesday took a gently hold of River’s arm and aided his way into the room. River was staring at something once he’d got his balance and Tuesday couldn’t really figure it out until he realized he was just stood there in his boxers, his skinny self on show. Self consciously he grabbed a random tee-shirt from the floor and threw it on.

“Pity.” River said before depositing himself on the bed.

“H-How did y-ou kn-know which room w-was mi-mine?” Tuesday asked, sitting himself cross-legged on the bed by the other boy before flopping down to lay, mirroring River’s position.

“Huh?” Tuesday couldn’t help but smile as it was River’s turn to blush. “Well, erm, maybe I’ve always stayed outside ‘til I saw your bedroom light come on. Make sure you were safe.”

Tuesday hoped that warm feeling in his tummy that he always got around River would never go away. He couldn’t help but smile softly, face glowing.

And before he knew it he was surrounded by a wave of black hair as River leant over him, green eyes staring at him intently. Tuesday had never felt a mixture of pleasure and shock before. It was a new experience for him, one that he found himself having as River pouted his lips a little and gently, ever so gently…

… kissed him.

tokio hotel, bill/tom

2007-12-01T02:44:34Z

Title: Lip Balm Means I Like You [2/4]
Author: siriuslyremus
Pairing: BK/TK
Rating: R, this chapter.
Disclaimer: This isn't real. I don't have anything to do with Tokio Hotel and this never happened.
Summary: It all started with a stick of lip balm...
Authors Notes: This update is later then I intended but that's what happens when incessent downpours destroy my internet connection. *ded*. Back up and running now though, comments and constructive criticism appreciated. Thank you guys for the feedback previously, I really, really appreciate it :]

Fiction Journal // siriuslyremus

Grabbing the fluffy, warm towel with shaking hands, Bill began to dry his body off. It would be an understatement to say he was nervous. He couldn’t explain how he was feeling. He had no idea how this conversation was going to go. Why had Tom decided he wanted to talk about it now? His brother infuriated him sometimes with his hot and cold actions, acting unaffected and carefree before slipping randomly into the serious.

It un-nerved him.

Running the towel over his lithe body, he shivered slightly against the cooling temperature of the bathroom. Cursing himself for not bringing anything to put on after the shower to cover himself, he wrapped the towel tightly around his hips before taking a breath and sliding himself through the door.

The door opened out to Bill’s bedroom. The room was practically a carbon copy of Tom’s, the walls were plain white but scattered with numerous posters and photographs, memories both brothers liked to have around them always. The only difference between the two rooms was the fact that Bill didn’t just fling his clothes onto the floor, he seemed to understand what a wardrobe was intended for. That and the numerous make-up items that made up Bill’s desk. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d gone out to buy a new stick of mascara, only to find the previous one stuck down the side of the desk, or under a pillow. Bill shook his head a little, realising how easily his mind managed to get side-tracked.

Tilting his head upwards, as if out of a daydream Bill noticed what was directly ahead of him. Tom was sat askew on his bed, one leg tucked beneath him as he worried his lip ring back and forth.

“Erm,” Bill didn’t quite know what to do with himself and for some inexplicable reason that he hadn’t felt before, he could feel himself blushing at the fact that he was stood there in a towel and nothing more.

Tugging his desk chair out awkwardly, he placed it a couple of feet in front of Tom and sat down, making sure to keep a tight hold on his towel lest it fall and embarrass him further.

“I love how awkward you look right about now. It’s not like I’ve never seen you in a towel before Bill.” Tom chuckled, shifting himself to fit a little more comfortably atop the plush duvet.

Growling slightly, Bill shifted on the chair, feeling the warmth of a blush run to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah well, you’d feel awkward too if this were the other way around.”

“Would I?” Tom murmured, thoughtfully. There he goes again! Bill thought, that nonchalance slipping into something entirely more serious.

“Look,” Bill sighed softly. “You said we had to talk so … talk”

“Well, you know what I’m going to say right?”

“No!” Bill wafted an arm about, impatience pouring out of him. Whichever way it went he wanted, needed to get this conversation out of the way. “I don’t know what you’re going to say! For pity’s sake Tom. You kiss me, out of the blue a week ago, and then don’t say anything about it. Don’t even mention it and then you come on all serious about how we need to talk about it. How the hell am I supposed to know what you’re thinking? I’m lost on this one Tom, you’re my twin brother but whether that means we’re supposed to know what’s going on inside each other’s heads or not, I don’t get it.”

Tom shifted, pulling his leg out from under him and leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he rested his chin on his hands. Bill couldn’t help but think about how sensual the curve of his back looked, as the back of the baggy t-shirt caught at the front and was pulled taut.

“Why do you think I kissed you outside that club?” Tom’s voice was soft, as if speaking to a confused child which really wasn’t far from how Bill was feeling at the moment.

“I … urgh, I don’t know Tom. I don’t know. All I know is you kissed me, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since then. I didn’t mind it, I-I …” Bill couldn’t bring himself to say he liked it. Call him the more insecure of the twins, he just couldn’t do it.

“I wanted to kiss you. So I kissed you … and I liked it.” Tom spoke, voice soft but not hesitant.

Looking up abruptly, Bill locked eyes with his brother. Tom’s features were soft, eyes warm, betraying a feeling Bill couldn’t figure out at that moment. Didn’t know if he had the strength to. The conversation was exhausting but … Tom liked the kiss. Had wanted the kiss. Bill concentrated himself, focused his mind to think about he felt about that himself.

It was the soft, fluttery feeling of butterflies in his stomach that gave him the push he needed to say what he did.

“M-Me too. I … liked it too Tom.”

Tom smiled brightly before leaning forward to stand, inch by inch, slowing making his way across the small gap towards Bill as if not to frighten him. As his knees gently bumped the towel covered ones of his brother, Tom bent to kneel, placing his folded arms gently across Bill’s lap so they were face to face.

“I’ve kissed you,” he was practically whispering, breath hitting Bill’s warm face, “now it’s your turn to kiss me. If you mean it.”

After barely a moment’s hesitation, Bill lifted a shaky hand, cupping Tom’s cheek gently. Tom leaned into the contact, never losing eye contact with his brother. Bill leaned in slowly, swallowing before his lips barely brushed across Tom’s.

The touch was electrifying and Bill wondered why he hadn’t thought about this new level of connection they seemed to share, before.

With a little more confidence, his eyes fluttered shut and he pressed his lips more firmly to Tom’s own. The kiss was kept chaste for a few moments, both siblings merely enjoying the intimate physical contact before Bill realised that if he wanted the kiss to go further, he was going to have to be the one to initiate it.

Opening his mouth slightly, Tom’s lips mimicked his own, creating a space between their mouths where, for a second, they were sharing the same breath. Bill’s tongue, hesitant in its shyness slid out and traced over the plump lip of his brothers, tonguing the ring that adorned it, too scared to go further.

Tom leaned his head forward, tongue coming out to play battle with Bill’s, gently, playfully. It was a heated kiss, awkward and passionate and when they eventually pulled apart Bill was breathless and flushed and even Tom seemed to have gained a pink tint to his cheeks. They kept their faces in close contact, noses bumping as they breathed, both unwilling to move even a fraction more away from each other as if somehow the connection would be lost.

“Bill,” when Tom spoke his voice was breathy, practically a whisper that made the damp hair at the back of Bill’s neck stand on edge, made his skin tingle in anticipation. “We’re brothers. You’re my twin. This … people would think it was …” It was obvious Tom didn’t want to say the word wrong. That what they were doing, how they obviously felt about each other was sinful, un-natural and just … just wrong.

Bill couldn’t care less about other people’s opinions. Both his heart and his mind had made a decision.

“I don’t care Tom. Mm, I don’t care. Love you.” He murmured against his brother’s mouth, pursing his lips into a quick kiss.

“Do you not care enough to be with me though Bill. Once I have you, I’m not letting you go, no matter what. You have to make a decision, soon … now.” Tom’s hand’s crept up, fingers sliding over moist, slender hips to wrap themselves around the boy that looked so much like himself, yet different at the same time. Slender, exotic, beautiful. Bill.

“Uh,” Bill gasped out. He couldn’t help it, those words slipping from his brother’s mouth so easily were more than he could take. The warm fingertips sliding over his skin setting it on fire. He could feel his arousal beneath his towel and it turned his face pink to think that Tom might be the same way beneath those ever present baggy jeans. He wanted this, there was no doubt about it.

“I … I care enough. Oh God, I care enough. Love you Tom, love you. Wanna be with you.”

Smiling, Tom nodded happily before lifting his face and sealing his mouth over Bill’s in a searing kiss. This kiss was passionate and rough, teeth clicking together as lips were bruised and in the middle of it all Bill felt himself being hefted bodily off the chair, turned and thrown down on the bed. His towel came loose, tented and hanging below the sensual jut of his hipbones as he watched his brother prowl over to him.

Pinning Bill to the bed, Tom returned to his assault on Bill’s mouth, Bill’s senses, as he pushed his own hips, his own arousal into that of his brother’s. Bill managed to absently wonder when the moaning had started but was cut off as a particular thrust of his brother’s hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through his system.

“Oh, T-Tom, ungh … c-can’t…”

Tom’s tongue stalled in its path of travelling down Bill’s pale neck as he noted an annoying buzzing, sounding somewhere to his left.

“What … what the fuck is that?” Eyebrows creased and, much to Bill’s upset, the grinding rhythm they’d managed to build stopped abruptly.

“Tom!” Making a point, Bill shifted his hips upwards into jean covered ones. “It’s just my damn phone. Could we carry on, please.”

Tom smiled down at his brother, noting the red face he was now sporting before continuing the pace his hips had built up.

“You know, you’re awfully pushy for someone who hasn’t done this before.” Tom chuckled, propping his palms flat on the bed to press down onto his brother at a different angle.

“How do you know I haven’t-…” Bill turned his head to the side, looking sheepish and embarrassed and aroused all at the same time. It was a heady mix for Tom, who sucked in a breath at the debauched look of his brother beneath him. “You know, just ‘cause you’ve had a million and one people doesn’t mean you can take the piss out of me.”

Tom smiled down at his brother gently, hips slowing in pace but keeping up with the rhythm that was proving successful. Lowering his face he nudged his nose against Bill’s chin to get the boy to look up at him.

“A million and three actually,” Tom grinned but continued quickly at the crestfallen look on Bill’s face. “Though …” A quick, soft kiss was planted on his brother’s pliable lips. “You’re the only one that will ever count.”

That’s all it took. Those words from Tom’s lips, and a few more gentle thrusts of his hips had Bill throwing his arms around his brother and succumbing to the ecstasy of his orgasm, Tom hot on his heels, face pressed tightly into Bill’s neck.

As they lay, panting and sated, wrapped tightly around each other, neither of them bothered with the still incessant ringing of Bill’s phone. If they had, they would have noticed the inordinate amount of missed calls, all from Georg.

tbc

tokio hotel bill/tom

2007-11-28T02:18:00Z

Title: Lip Balm Means I Like You [1/4]
Author: siriuslyremus
Pairing: BK/TK
Rating: PG [for now]
Disclaimer: This isn't real. I don't have anything to do with Tokio Hotel and this never happened.
Summary: It all started with a stick of lip balm...
Authors Notes: On a roll with this one. It's a four-part story but the segments aren't very long, I apologise. But I didn't want to post it all in one go [which is handy seeming as it's only half written] but rest assured the rest is forthcoming soon :] I'd really appreciate your thoughts on this, it's only my 2nd jab at TH fic and I'm less than confident in how it reads :| Anyway, enough babbling, hope you enjoy!

Fiction Journal // siriuslyremus

It all started with a stick of lip balm. That’s all it took to fuel the fire they didn’t even know was burning.

*

“Mines broke. Pass me your lighter.” Tom didn’t wait, shuffling through Bill’s tight pockets in his search. Pulling out his prize he smiled as he lit the stick between his lips and took a drag, sighing.

“H-How long does it t-take to get out of a club. It’s freezing out here.” Bill stammered.

The twins were perched on a low wall outside a club, waiting for Georg and Gustav to join them from inside. The night sky was dotted with stars, the streets surprisingly quiet. The band had decided to leave the club early considering the week’s worth of shows they still had ahead of them.

“They’ll be out eventually, you know what Gustav’s like. He has to stop to talk to anyone and everyone. He’s nice like that.” Tom chuckled lowly as he watched his brother drop his cigarette butt to the ground and grind it out with the heel of his trainer.

“I’m nice too. I talk to people.”

Sliding a hand into his jacket pocket, Bill grumbled at himself for not deciding to wear something warmer. His fingers flittered around for a moment before they grabbed what he wanted and he tugged a tube of lip balm from his pocket. Popping the lid off, he twisted the stick before beginning to apply it liberally to his lips.

“What’s that for?” Tom asked, reaching fingers up to tug at his dreads.

“It’s cold out and I don’t want sore, cracked lips in the morning. Hence the lip balm.” Bill smiled as he pressed his lips together to spread the gooey, gloss like substance evenly over his lips.

Tom eyes were fixated, staring at the way Bill’s lips moved, the way they now gleamed slightly in the moonlight.

“Can I have some?”

Bill chuckled to himself, silently appreciating the fact that Tom hadn’t made some wisecrack about how much of a girl he was. Again. Holding the lid in his spare hand, Bill held the stick of balm out for his brother to take.

It was fair to say Bill had no clue what was coming next.

Grinning slightly, Tom leant in and pressed his lips to his brothers firmly. Bill’s eyes widened, lips pursing on instinct as he responded to the kiss, the lip balm dropping from his now slack fingers. But it was over before he really had a chance to think about it. With a smacking sound, Tom pulled back, eyes narrowing in amusement at the blush now adorning his brother’s cheeks.

“Hmm,” Tom murmured, thoughtfully. Bill’s eyes couldn’t help but look at the way the tip of Tom’s tongue slid out and ran over his lips, tonguing the gloss from his lip ring. “Strawberry. S’nice.”

“Guys! We’re good to go now!” Georg shouted as he reared the corner and smiled at his fellow band mates, Gustav a short way behind him waving at some random people.

Tom grinned, standing and heading over in their general direction before turning and walking backwards a few steps, laughing softly at the priceless look on Bill’s face. He pointed to the floor at Bill’s feet before spinning around and speaking over his shoulder.

“Don’t forget your lip balm.”

*

Sighing as the warm spray from the shower soaked his hair and warmed his body, Bill leant against the wall as he let the beat of the water soothe his aching limbs. It had been an entire week since the ‘incident’, or so Bill had begun to call it. An entire week since his brother had pressed his lips to his own. No, wait. Since his brother had intentionally kissed him, there was no other way to describe it. Yet, neither had spoken about it. Tom had acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, as if kissing your brother was an everyday remedy for chapped lips.

Bill couldn’t figure it out. He hadn’t said anything to Tom about it through shame. No, not shame. Never shame. He hadn’t minded the kiss. He just had no idea where it had sprung from. He didn’t want to bring it up in case it was nothing, in case Tom didn’t see it as anything and Bill was reading too much into it. For some reason that thought tugged at Bill, made his heart beat a little faster, made it hurt a little.

“Ahh!” Bill slammed his palm against the wall, emitting a soft watery slap. “Stop thinking about it. You’re driving yourself crazy.”

Grabbing his wash cloth, he lathered it up with soap and began scrubbing down his body, a little harsher then he intended, his skin turning pink. Looking down at his naked self, the hand grasping the flannel paused. He took his free hand, running it down his slim, slender chest before it paused on the sparse hair just beneath his navel. He’d seen his brother shirtless countless times, he’d even seen his brother strutting around in just his boxers, but he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking.

“Is … do you look like this … look like me …” Bill’s hand shook slightly as he ran it further down, running the tips of his thin fingers over his flaccid cock. He felt the first stirrings of arousal in his groin and was too busy contemplating other things to think about the fact that he was getting turned on by thinking about his brother. His twin brother.

His thoughts were abruptly cut off as he heard a low chuckle from outside the shower cubicle.

“Do you always stand talking to yourself when you take a shower?”

The voice was unmistakably Tom. Besides, he was the only one with the audacity to walk into the bathroom when someone was in the shower. Bill jumped a little before clasping a hand to his chest, blushing bright red.

“Do you always walk in on people in the shower? I swear, you have no sense of boundaries whatsoever,” Bill grumbled, glad the steam from his overly hot shower fogged up the glass shower door.

“I don’t believe in boundaries. Or personal space,” Tom chuckled, but it was fleeting. Sounding overly serious he continued. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have …”

Bill paused before speaking, sensing where this conversation was going. Hoping he knew where the conversation was headed. “Wouldn’t have …?” Bill continued, a hiccup of a breath catching in his throat.

Tom was silent for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. Bill pushed his flat, soaked hair from his face and squinted through the foggy glass in an attempt to see his brother more clearly.

“Wouldn’t have what, Tom?” Bill pressed, eager yet quiet.

Tom’s silence reigned for another few moments before he spoke, quiet and serious.

“Wouldn’t have kissed you … hurry up and get out of the shower Bill. We need to talk.”

Tom exited the bathroom, leaving behind Bill, naked and wet and scared stiff about the conversation ahead of them.

tbc

tokio hotel, bill/tom

2007-11-25T23:56:46Z

Title: Extension of Me.
Author: fulip
Pairing: Bill Kaulitz/Tom Kaulitz
Rating: PG-13 [mild swearing]
Summary: Bill's had enough and Tom gets an ultimatum.
Disclaimer: I don't know Tokio Hotel, I don't own anything and this really never happened.
Authors Notes: This is my first Tokio Hotel fic. So please be gentle :/ Love the band, have for a while now but never forayed into fic yet. It's a cliched plot but hopefully it'll get my Tokio Hotel muse going and I'll be able to write something better one day. Also, I don't speak much German at all sadly, so if the translation is wrong, someone please put me right :] Comments and constructive criticism appreciated.

Archived at my fiction journal // siriuslyremus

“You can’t keep doing this Tom!”

Slender hands pressed flat against the baggy jumper and pushed. Hard. Hard enough to send the older Kaulitz twin stumbling back until he landed with a soft squeak on the hotel bed behind him.

“Bill? What t-the fuck?!” His words were slow and slurred, the inordinate amounts of alcohol he’d consumed that evening now taking a toll on his speech capabilities.

Bill looked the epitome of a fallen angel, his make-up smeared across his eyes made Tom think he’d been crying. He hadn’t been, not up until now at least, he’d been in the process of removing his make-up. Now, he was gulping back sobs that were wracking his body, yearning to be loose, a hand clasped over his mouth where Tom’s sloppy kisses had just been placed.

“Y-You can’t Tom! I swear… you just, you just… you keep messing with me. Messing with my head, everytime, I swear, everytime…”

Bill’s words didn’t make much sense, especially to the drunken mind of his brother. Tom’s emotions took over instead. Bill was upset and Tom hated that. Dragging himself from the bed he wobbled back over to his twin and attempted to wrap his arms around him. Bill pushed at him, resisting as he gulped in harsh breaths.

“You, you can’t! You keep doing this, what do you think I am? I’m not here just for you to take advantage of when you’re drunk you know! If you only want me when you’re hammered then that’s… no Tom. I can’t be the person you come to when you haven’t found anyone else to hook up with. I’m… I’m worth more than that. If I’m not enough for you then…” Bill finished quietly, voice shaken as he looked up into Tom’s glassy eyes.

“You’re… you’re my brother.” Tom’s words seemed hollow, even to his own ears.

“Yeah. Yeah I am. I know what we… what happens. It’s-”

“-different.” Tom butted in.

“Different, yeah” Bill managed a wry laugh before running his hands across his face, pushing Tom away in the process. “But… but I love you. I love you every way I can love you and I may not be ready to tell everyone that but I can tell you. I love you Tom. But if you don’t feel the same way about me, if you can’t love all of me then… it’s all or nothing Tom. As selfish as that may be.”

With that, Bill stepped around Tom, walking to the bed and flopping down atop the covers, legs pulled up to his chest. He didn’t bother changing or continuing to take his make-up off, exhaustion had taken over him quickly and all he wanted to do now was sleep.

“Bill…”

“Tired Tom. Gonna sleep now” Bill whispered.

Tom stood on shaky legs for a moment before exiting the room. Bill’s eyes squeezed shut, fighting back tears as he heard the hotel room door close softly behind him.

*

Bill couldn’t remember leaving the room window open so he was thoroughly annoyed to feel something fluttering over his cheek early in the morning, rousing him from sleep he wasn’t ready to wake from yet. Raising a slender hand of black polished nails he batted at the intruding insect only to find his hand come into sharp contact with something much larger than a bug.

It took the “ow” following it for Bill to open his eyes.

Tilting his head to the side, he looked up to find Tom leaning over him, now rubbing his marked cheek.

“You know, I’m already suffering from an immense hangover, physical abuse this early in a morning only makes it worse” Tom smiled lopsidedly.

Sighing, Bill rolled over beneath his brother and noted that it was somewhere near 7am. Far too early to be up on a day off.

“Yeah, well… that’s what you get for getting piss drunk last night. You look like shit by the way” Bill sighed.

“You’re obviously in a good mood this morning”

“Is there any reason I should be?” Bill spat harshly, eyes wandering upwards to take in the sombre look on his brother’s face.

“No… no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that… Bill, look…” Tom started, stalling mid-way as if he couldn’t say what he wanted to say.

“Tom, get off me. You’ve woken me up; I may as well get up and take a shower. Still got my fucking make-up on, my skin feels like shit…” Attempting to get up, Bill was stopped as Tom placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back down to the bed.

“No. No wait Bill listen… look. We’re… different. Yeah, I get that. We’re not normal brothers; we’re not normal twins but… I love you. I’m in love with you.” He practically whispered.

Bill hitched in a breath before he felt his brothers lips placed lightly atop his own. The kiss was sweet, gentle. A rare, sober kiss that Bill engraved to memory in case he never got the chance again. Tom’s nose brushed against his as he tilted his head, barely brushing his lips over Bill’s again before pulling back only far enough so that they didn’t have to look at one and other cross-eyed.

“You… you’re everything. You’re like; you’re an extension of me, part of me. Part of who I am. Maybe it took last night for me to finally come to terms with the fact that I can’t keep treating you like this. But the thoughts have been there for a while; you just pushed me to do something about them. You said all or nothing last night Bill and I know now. I know that I can’t not have you in my life, in my bed and in my heart. I couldn’t be if it weren’t for you. You’re my brother and you’re mine. As much as I’m yours… if you’ll have me.”

Bill felt tears prickling his eyes. Tears of a good kind, he thought to himself. It wasn’t everyday that the lead singer had his wishes fulfilled, but today. This random, non-consequential Sunday proved to be the day.

“Of course I’ll have you. Ohne dich kann ich nicht leben.”

fin

Translation // Ohne dich kann ich nicht leben - I can't live without you. [I think :| ]

FIC: It's Not What You Say, It's What You Do.

2007-11-05T02:00:40Z

Title: It's Not What You Say, It's What You Do.
Author: fulip
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka.
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: Don't own, not mine, don't sue.
Summary: Kakashi seems to be going through deep emotional turmoil. Iruka's mopping the floor.
Authors Notes: I have internet again! Oh my, it feels good after being away for skdfjdnf years. This is quite pointless, I hope you'll excuse that. Not my best work but hopefully not my worst. Comments and constructive criticism appreciated.

Fic archive // siriuslyremus

Flopping down onto Iruka’s sofa, heedless of his nudity, Kakashi sighed deeply, raising a hand to push his sopping wet hair from his face. Must Iruka always say those three words to him? In moments of passion, intimacy, even just general moments like when he was grading papers, or Kakashi was sharpening a kunai, Iruka had to voice them. Those three dreaded words.

He added to them sometimes, stuck words onto the beginning or end that halted Kakashi’s actions instantly.

‘I love you, ‘Kashi’

‘I love you, baby’

‘Love you, gorgeous’

Always with that damn smile on his face, like someone had just come and told him that world peace had been found and no harm would ever come to another living soul again.

Kakashi would falter, smile awkwardly and nod his head, unsure what to do. Yet it didn’t bother Iruka, he’d just grin and get back to whatever he was doing at the time. It was infuriating.

Love wasn’t exactly a skill he’d been taught to deal with throughout his years. Killing silently, maiming, torturing, information gathering. Those were things Kakashi knew, could do in a heartbeat, could understand, but love? Foreign concept. Kakashi had been instilled with the knowledge that love was dangerous, something that could be used against you on the battlefield, something that could be the difference between life and death.

Something to be avoided.

So when this tryst, thing … relationship, with Iruka had started Kakashi had thought nothing of it. Sex, for him at the time, had been something to relieve stress. An orgasm for Kakashi was something that killed five minutes of his time and gave him butterflies in his tummy for a few moments afterwards. Love had never factored into it.

“You know, you could’ve grabbed a towel on the way out. They were right by the door. The floor’s all wet now and I’m guessing the sofa you’re sat on isn’t any better.”

Kakashi’s head turned toward the bathroom door. Iruka had exited the shower they had been sharing minutes ago and was now covered in a bathrobe, towel in hand as he mopped up the trail of water Kakashi had deposited as he bolted from bathroom to living room.

Lifting the now soaking towel from the floor Iruka ventured back into the bedroom, most likely to drop it into the dirty laundry hamper, before returning swiftly, hairbrush in hand.

“Why do you say it?” Kakashi’s voice was laced with emotion he couldn’t recognise.

“Hmm? Say what?” Iruka sat cross-legged by the low table, running fingers through his drenched locks to ready them for brushing.

“That … that … ‘I love you’ ” Kakashi practically whispered. Leaning over he tugged the brush from Iruka’s hand and pulled on his arm gently. Knowing the routine intimately, Iruka didn’t waver and slid over to sit between Kakashi’s legs.

“I say it because I mean it. I love you. No other reason”

Kakashi couldn’t easily accept that. Feelings of inadequacy had crept upon him and it made him feel awkward. Silence reigned for a few moments as Kakashi began to gently brush the knots from Iruka’s soft hair.

“But… I never say it to you”

“Is that what made you bolt from the shower?” Iruka chuckled, tilting his head as Kakashi hit a particularly trying tangle. “I know you Kakashi, I know what you’re like, how you think. I don’t need you to say the words ‘I love you’ when I feel them everyday.”

Kakashi’s progress with the brush stopped and he blinked, confused. Iruka twisted around to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“What were you just doing. A second ago” Iruka asked, pointedly.

“Brushing your hair”

“Exactly”

Kakashi was lost. Iruka obviously found this amusing, the scar on his nose curving as he smiled.

“You show me you love me in the things you do everyday Kakashi. You brush my hair when I get out of the shower or I’ve taken it out of the ponytail for bed. If you’re up before me you squirt toothpaste on my toothbrush, ready for when I need it. You learned how to cook proper meals just because I’d mentioned that I thought romantic dinners were a wonderful gesture. We moved in together for goodness sake. I thought that was the biggest way of showing me how you felt ever.”

Iruka‘s words seemed to smack Kakashi right in the face, the last part at least. This wasn’t Iruka’s sofa, it was theirs. He began to wonder if he’d ever taken proper notice of the deep transitions their relationship had gone through over the time they’d been together but his thoughts were halted by Iruka’s continuing speech.

“Like I said. I don’t need to hear the words from you when I feel them all the time. I say ‘I love you’ because I like voicing my emotions out loud. I know you love me because otherwise, we wouldn’t have what we have, we wouldn’t be in it for the long haul like we are.”

Kakashi thought he was generally a smart kind of guy. Give him a few practice sessions with a new weapon and no use of the Sharingan and he still had it mastered in the fastest time. So when Iruka’s words seemed to settle deep within him somewhere and make perfect sense, he found it a little disconcerting to find he’d been so dense about the entire situation.

He’d built a life with this man, this man sat in front of him, smiling at him like he knew exactly what thoughts were going through his head. And in all honesty, he probably did. That still left a tiny problem though.

“I’m happy you feel that way Iruka. Really, really happy.” And he was, he knew one thing for sure, and that was that he never, ever wanted Iruka to feel hurt in anyway. “But… what if I’m never able to say… how I feel.”

“Does it really matter?” Iruka smiled. “I’m happy as we are, perfectly happy, and as long as I have you, mute even, I don’t care.” Standing, Iruka chuckled and ran a hand through Kakashi’s quickly drying hair. “And as much as I really don’t want you to, you need to put some clothes on. If you sit out here naked much longer you’re going to catch a cold”

He stepped to the side, about to walk around the sofa when Kakashi grabbed his hand and, with a yelp, tugged Iruka on top of him. With a lopsided smile, Kakashi leaned up through the fan of Iruka’s open hair and pressed a tender kiss to the Chunnin’s lips.

“As long as you’re here, pressed up against me like this, I can catch as many colds as I like”

Iruka blushed gently and smiled.

“I love you too”.

[FIC] Stutter Me Simple

2007-09-07T13:36:57Z

Title: Stutter Me Simple [2/?]
Author: siriuslyremus
Rating: PG [for now, will go up]
Summary: Tuesday is the simple, quiet, shy, stuttering adolescent. River is ... well, Tuesday isn't really sure.
Authors Notes: I'm sorry this took so long to get out, issues at home. And also, when and how I refer to braces in this chapter, I'm not making fun. I have braces myself so I know how it feels when people say stuff and how some people feel about them but I mean no offence :] Comments and constructive criticism are appreciated as always.

“I’m o-off to t-t-the lib-br-brary mom!”

Slipping his feet into his tiny size 5 Converse Tuesday screwed his nose up. What was it they said about guys with small feet? Shaking his head he grabbed his book bag before sighing as he heard his mother trundle down the stairs. He thought about making a dash for the door but knew his mom would be able to catch him by the scruff of his collar before he got out of the door … he had a fleeting thought that maybe moms turned superhuman after they had kids but he didn’t have time to dwell on it before his mom stepped in front of him.

“Got your phone? Your book bag? Don‘t cut across the Green, don‘t talk to strangers and make sure you‘re home for 10pm at the latest okay?” She asked as she straightened the collar on the shirt he was wearing beneath his black sweater.

“Y-y-yes mom” Tuesday rolled his eyes, this routine was mandatory every Friday when he left the house. He figured hitting sixteen would mean that his mom would let up on the mothering but as she always said, ‘Tuesday I gave birth to you, I carried you around for 9 months, braving back pain and stretch marks and puking up most every meal I had. I think letting me mother you is the least you can do’. Tuesday chuckled at the thought, his mom giving him an odd look but brushing his sleeky platinum hair back from his face.

“Good. Now what are you?” She asked, the corner of her mouth raised up in a half smile as she looked down at her son. He was short for his age, skinny too but he couldn’t help it. He ate all of his vegetables, what more was he supposed to do?

“I’m your baby mom. Always will be no matter how old I get” Tuesday blushed, smiling up at his mother.

“Exactly. Which means you can let off with the eye rolling every time I straighten your collar” Laughing she ushered her son out of the door. “Now get!”

*

Stepping across the street carefully, (he’d always adhered to the look both ways thing, with a mother like his he couldn’t help it), Tuesday spied the Green across the street out of the corner of his eye.

Pausing for a moment in his step he eyed the patch of land where last week he’d met that boy. River. The closest looking thing to Godliness Tuesday had ever seen. Tuesday had never seen him around before and hadn’t seen him since, he’d practically convinced himself the whole encounter had been a dream. It hadn’t though, the sore bruise on his lower back from where Tony had pushed him to the ground had proven that. So where was River? Tuesday had never seen him at school so he obviously didn’t go, he looked older but he had said he was 17 and anyway, he didn’t look old enough to be a college student but then again Tuesday looked about 12 to everyone around him so that really wasn’t much to go on. Tuesday didn’t even have his second name or anything so he couldn’t exactly stalk the phonebook to call him and what … thank him again or something. Tuesday tried to push back the idea that thanking River wasn’t the main reason why he wanted to see him again.

Sighing, Tuesday resigned himself to having been saved by an Angel but that was all. Good things didn’t happen to Tuesday Denton, he wasn’t blessed. He was small and scrawny with train track braces and girl hands and a stutter that just wouldn’t go away. Tugging his gaze away from the Green, Tuesday continued his walk to the library, eyes fixed to the floor as always.

*

“Hello Tuesday” Mrs Collins smiled as said boy trudged his way up the steps to her reception desk. Smiling Tuesday waved his thin fingers in greeting as he stepped up to the desk.

“I-is it ok-a-ay for me t-to use th-the room Mrs C?”

“Always” She smiled tapping manicured nails on the counter in front of her. “Will you be wanting the same book as last week or…?”

“T-that’s okay. I-I-I-…” Tuesday pulled in a deep breath. This happened sometimes, when he was a little out of breath. Even the simplest words just wouldn’t come up from his throat right. Instead, he stopped speaking and tugged open his book bag, shuffling around for a second before pulling out a battered copy of ‘Matilda. He blushed as she chuckled a little.

“You love that book. Don’t you think you might want to try something more for boys of your own age though?”

“N-no” Tuesday shook his head and clutched his precious copy of the book. “I-I love t-this book. Wo-words g-get easier to r-read every-time I t-try.”

“Okay love. Well you can just go on in. You want me to let you know when it’s getting on to 10pm?”

Tuesday nodded his head politely before he zipped his way past the musky smelling bookshelves and into the secluded room he always read in. There wasn’t much in there except for some reference books that no-one seemed to have been interested in since about 1976. A beat up but comfy looking couch sat in the corner next to a rickety old chair and that suited Tuesday just fine. Flopping down onto the couch, he tugged his shoes off and pulled his slim legs beneath him. After situating himself comfortably, he slid the book onto his lap at the first page and began to read.

*

“M-Matil-da moved h-her w-way…” Taking a breath Tuesday paused in his reading as he slid his hand into his book bag and pulled out a bottle of water. Stealing a quick glance at his watch he noted it was 8:15pm and he still had plenty of time before he had to be home. He always made sure to check the time periodically, he always became so involved in reading, in trying to read fluently that time seemed to pass by so quickly.

Sipping his water he returned his gaze to the book, searching for the place he had left off . He found it quickly, sliding his finger back under the beginning of the sentence and opened his mouth to began reading again. He didn’t get far before he heard a gentle tap at the opening to the room. Looking up he expected to see Mrs Collins but instead his jaw fell open. He hoped to death he wasn’t drooling on his precious copy of ‘Matilda’

“Well, imagine seeing you here” Came a soft voice followed by a cocky, lopsided grin.

“R-R-River!” Tuesday managed to stumble out.

Said boy stepped into the room and nodded his head. “In the flesh”. And what flesh it was, Tuesday thought. He was decked out today in some tight black jeans, it should be a crime for boys to wear girls’ jeans and look that good, and a tight fitting purple t-shirt. His hair was once again sleek and straight, the shorter front strands falling over the front of his shoulders, and his green eyes looked amused, shining in the dimmish light of the library.

If Tuesday was finding it hard to breathe before he was suffocating now.

“W-wh-a-at…” Deep breaths Tuesday, deep breaths “…what a-are y-y-ou doi-oing h-h-here?”

“Well” River smiled, coming towards the couch before grabbing the chair that was vacant and swinging it around before straddling it backwards. “See, I was just passing and I happened to notice that, this is in fact, a library and I thought. You know, River, you haven’t read a book in ages and from what I’ve come to learn about libraries they do indeed loan books out for said purposes of reading and… okay” he laughed, reaching a hand up to the back of his head to run through his hair. “So I’m talking absolute crap. You mentioned before that you come here Friday evenings so I thought I’d pop by. See if you were here. The nice lady at the desk seemed to know who ‘cute boy with the adorable braces with little pink bands on called Tuesday’ was when I mentioned it so she pointed me in the right direction.”

Tuesday gaped. River. RIVER. The dark haired Adonis sat before him had not only listened to his stumbling conversation from last week but had actually taken it on board and come to the library. To see him. And he’d called him cute, he’d noticed the braces too but he thought they were cute and Tuesday couldn’t help but think that if there were such a thing as the perfect boy he was sat in front of him right now. Tuesday couldn’t think of anything to say. Except…

“W-w-why?”

“Hmmmm” River smiled, arms resting on the back of the chair. Leaning his chin forward to rest on them he smiled softly at Tuesday, voice soft as he spoke. “Wanted to see you again.”

Tuesday had learnt from a young age that with platinum, practically white hair like his red was not a good colour to wear. Which is why he was cursing the fact that no-one can control the urge to blush. His face was beet red as River laughed gently, reaching a hand forward to tap the book held in the smaller boy’s hands.

“So… you gonna read to me?”

*

“T-t-hanks Mrs C. S-see y-you next w-w-eek” Tuesday watched as Mrs Collins nodded and waved.

“I’ll see you next week too Mrs C!” River grinned.

Tuesday whipped his head around to stare at the boy next to him. He was coming back next week? River turned to face him, face open and gentle.

“That’s okay right? If I come back next week and listen to you read again?”

Tuesday couldn’t speak, barely managed to nod his head in the affirmative as River sighed sounding relieved.

“Good, I love hearing you read. Sounds sad but I’ve never read Matilda … and your voice is beautiful to listen to”

Well, that did it. Tuesday’s trip down the flight of stairs to the exit turned into just that. A trip. Blushing madly at River’s words he managed to stumble over his own feet and would’ve gone head first down the stairs, (hello floor, meet my face… why hello, pleased to meet you), had it not been for River’s quick reflexes, arms wrapping around Tuesday’s waist.

“Whoa! You okay there Tuesday?” Tightening his hold River tugged Tuesday to relative safety on flat ground before moving his hands to the younger boy’s hips and giving a squeeze. “Skinny” He smiled before his hand slipped into Tuesday‘s own. “C’mon, lets get you home before your mom starts shouting again. I swear she woke half the street up” Laughing, he tugged a willing Tuesday from the library and out into the cool night air.

*

Seriously, thought Tuesday, why is my house not further away. The walk home never used to be this quick, he grumbled to himself.

“Well, here we are right? Chateau de Denton wasn’t it?”

“Y-y-yea-h” Tuesday replied.

“Well, here you are, safe and sound” River grinned “See you next Friday yeah? Same time and place?”

Tuesday couldn’t help but smile up at the other boy. He could swear that he’d never had so much fun reading in the library before and to know River was coming back next week, to know River wanted to come back next week. Tuesday couldn’t help but grin.

“Cool”

“W-w-ait… w-w-hats y-your s-s-second na-name?” Tuesday looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed.

Chuckling, River leaned in and pressed his nose to Tuesday’s soft hair. Sniffing a little first, he spoke, lips moving against the soft strands. “Anderson. I’m River Anderson” With that he pressed a loud, smacking kiss against Tuesday’s scalp before pulling away and walking off backwards. “See you next Friday, Tuesday” He grinned at the joke, “take care of yourself”.

Tuesday nodded, waving as he couldn’t help but smile. River Anderson. He couldn’t help but think how nice that would look etched in sharpie all over his school books. He could even put a little heart atop the ‘i’ in River rather than a dot and… okay, gay-boy overload, Tuesday chuckled to himself before making sure River was out of sight before he headed to his front door.

Reaching up to the door handle Tuesday paused abruptly, staring at his right hand as another round of crimson blushing hit his cheeks. Nothing could stop the grin that beamed out on his features though. Since the stumble in the library…

River had kept hold of his hand the entire walk home.

tbc

[FIC] Stutter Me Simple.

2007-08-21T16:38:56Z

Title: Stutter Me Simple [1/?]
Author: siriuslyremus
Rating: PG [for now, will go up]
Summary: Tuesday is the simple, quiet, shy, stuttering adolescent. River is ... well, Tuesday isn't really sure.
Authors Notes: My first piece of original fiction. I love the idea I came up with. Putting it into words though, it seems to lose some of its greatness. Hope you enjoy anyway, comments are appreciated as is constructive criticism.

The book was situated comfortably on his lap as Tuesday flipped the page over. His index finger came up to rest under the first word on the page, following the line carefully as he slowly read, breathing deeply.

“H-he came t-t-to rest his hand on her s-shoulder, his fingers t-trembling i-i-imp-p-…” His voice faltered as he attempted to utter the word on the page. Frowning, his eyebrows scrunched up, voice tinged with annoyance at the speech that just wouldn’t come.

“Imperceptibly.” Came a soft voice. Darting his head to the right Tuesday saw Mrs Collins stood at the door to the small room, smiling at him gently. “It’s almost 11pm Tuesday, you should be getting home son, it’s late and I’m closing up. You were reading so well earlier I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Tuesday stood, sliding the book from his lap and closing it around his Garfield bookmark. Wandering over to Mrs Collins he smiled at her shyly, passing her the book.

“T-thank you. S-s-see you next week.” He murmured. His eyes were downcast as they pretty much always were, focused on the less than exciting floor of the library, so he felt more than saw her hand come to rest atop his head.

“See you next Friday, Tuesday.” She chuckled at the old, worn joke as she ruffled his practically platinum hair. Smiling, albeit at the floor, Tuesday gave her a wave, swung his backpack onto his shoulders and headed for the exit.

*

His worn Converse scuffed along the floor as Tuesday headed at more than a brisk pace home. He was late, not that he particularly had a time he had to be home at but he was generally home from the library before 10pm most Fridays. His mom was at home, probably pacing the living room carpet into submission as she watched the clock. Tuesday chuckled to himself at the thought but his feet sped up a little.

Tuesday had suffered from stuttering since he could remember speaking. He’d always been a shy, quiet boy but the fact that he stuttered, much more so when nervous, made him all the more inclined not to speak to people much. So really, he wasn’t exactly what you could call the social flower. Sure, he had a few friends at school but they weren’t exactly the kind of friends who’d call him on a weekend and ask him to go skating or something.

His mother had placed him in speech therapy when he was younger but Tuesday would barely utter a word when he was there and eventually his mother had pulled him from the programme. Tuesday found his own ways to cope, spending his Friday evenings in the library reading aloud to himself in a small study room to better his speech. He thought he was improving, Mrs Collins had mentioned a few times that she had passed and had heard him reading quite fluently so he kept up his Friday vigils, sat alone amongst the dusty books the library held. He figured it was probably a lame way for a 16 year old boy to spend his Friday evenings but it suited him just fine.

Coming to a crossroads Tuesday stopped abruptly. He had two choices. He could either head the long way home, down the footpaths that curved their way around to his house or he could take the shortcut across the Green and cut at least six minutes from his journey.

Looking at his watch, he saw it was 10 after 11 and he bit his lip in thought. His mother wouldn’t be best pleased if he was any later home so the shortcut was his best bet, but he never walked across the Green. It was a notorious hang out for some of the guys at his school, namely the ones that loved to bully him about the fact that he was shy and quiet and seemed to find his feet infinitely interesting when he walked. It was one place they could get away with underage drinking with a good chance at not getting caught; no-one paid the Green enough attention to care.

Realising that this huffing and deliberating was getting him no closer to home in a shorter time, Tuesday hedged his bets and headed for the Green, feet unsure as his fingers tightened around the straps of his backpack. Holding his breath, he was almost halfway across the patch of land before all bets were lost.

“Hey, weekday.” Someone sniggered behind him. Tuesday almost tripped at the sound of the boy’s voice but ignoring him, he walked on. “Hey!” Tuesday couldn’t ignore him anymore when he heard the sound of shoes padding along the grass and he saw feet in his line of vision. “What the fuck’re you doing out this time of night, all on your lonesome?”

Tuesday felt someone push him from behind, a hand slapping against the books in his backpack. Great, this guy wasn’t alone. Confrontation was not something Tuesday really wanted to experience. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone?

“N-none of y-y-your bus-busi-business” he stammered, his tone of voice certainly not giving off the air he wanted it too.

“What the fuck?” One of the guys laughed. “W-what d-d-did you s-s-say?” Apparently it was the funniest thing these guys had heard in a long time judging from the guffaws of laughter coming from either side of him. Tuesday, taking a deep breath, lifted his head, eyes finally locking with the boy ahead of him albeit uncertainly.

“L-leaa-ve m-m-m… FUCK OFF!” He managed to shout, his voice finally betraying the annoyance he was feeling, his face tinged pink at the fact that he’d cursed. He felt oddly proud that he’d managed at least two full words in his current situation but the feeling was short lived as the boy ahead of him, he recognised him now as Tony Elliott from school, pushed himself up into Tuesday’s space so the shorter boy had to look up.

“What the fuck did you did you just say to me?!” Tony pushed him then, hard. Hard enough that the slim built Tuesday ended up on his ass on the damp grass, now looking up at a glaring Tony. “Fucking retard!” The last thing Tuesday saw was Tony’s hand raise up like he was going to hit him, Tuesday’s own arm flew up to shield his face, eyes screwing shut ready for the blow.

But it never came.

“Might I just ask what the fuck you two think you’re doing?” A voice spoke, one Tuesday couldn’t place. He felt it safe to open his eyes a crack then, looking up at where Tony was before.

Tuesday blinked, surprised. There was someone else there now, a boy Tuesday had never seen before. Tall, at least a head taller than Tony, which meant he was probably about a head and a half taller than Tuesday at least. The new boy had Tony’s raised arm caught in his wrist, preventing him from lashing out. Someone give that boy a medal for saving my skin. Said ‘new guy’ looked from Tony to the boy stood behind Tuesday with an air of nonchalance, like he went around saving stuttering boys from having their ass handed to them all the time, no big deal.

“Fuck” Tony whispered, looking to the other guy he’d been on the Green with “it’s him man, c’mon”. Tuesday didn’t really understand what had happened but he honestly couldn’t care what had caused it, he was just more than happy to see the two bullies from his school leg it across the Green, away and out of sight.

Turning back to face ‘new guy’, Tuesday noted that he was being stared at. He took a moment to really look at this guy. Holy crap… I’ve been rescued by an Adonis. Tall, sleek shoulder length black hair that was completely straight, I wonder if he uses straightning irons… his eyes were a deep green, like the colour of the sea before it melds into blue and Tuesday could help but stare back for a minute. Realising that yes, he really was ogling this guy, made his cheeks tinge pink and he sat up on the floor, taking the now offered hand for assistance to stand.

“You okay?” The guy asked him. Tuesday brushed the damp from the seat of his pants; hair falling over his eyes as he once again stared at the grass. Opting not to speak, Tuesday nodded his head to answer the question. “Good. You shouldn’t let those guys get away with that shit you know, or they’re just gonna keep picking on you”

Tuesday shrugged his shoulders, shuffling his backpack around more for something to do than anything.

“You don’t talk much, do you? … You got a name? Or does it take more than saving your ass to get that?”

Tuesday looked up through his lashes shyly realising that he was probably coming across as incredibly rude right now. The guy was smiling at him though; face open and friendly though he looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh. Yeah, just wait 'til I open my mouth and speak, that’ll give you something to laugh about.

“T-T-Tu-Tuesday. M-My names T-Tuesd-day” He practically whispered, ready for the onslaught. It didn’t come though, the guy simply smiled and shook his head gently.

“But its Friday” He grinned.

Tuesday rolled his eyes, unable to hold back a laugh of his own. “Yeah, like I’ve never heard that one before.” The guy smiled happily as Tuesday’s face lit up. A whole sentence! A whole eight words that spilled from his mouth without stuttering!

“Cute.” The guy prodded Tuesday on the forehead with a gentle finger. “So, where are you headed?”

“H-home”

“How about I walk you there? Make sure those guys don’t come back to give you shit.”

Blushing Tuesday nodded as he began walking home again, this guy falling into step next to him easily.

The walk home didn’t last nearly as long as Tuesday would have liked. This guy was easy company, asking him questions about what school he attended and where was that evening. Tuesday told him he’d been visiting the library, not detailing what went on there, just mentioning it in nervous conversation. He was still stuttering but this guy acted like there was nothing wrong with it, like he didn’t even hear it. Tuesday found himself left with a strange urge to hug the boy. Granted, he wasn’t going to tell his mother about this. Not only would she go down to the school to complain about the two bullies but she’d shout and yell for letting a stranger walk him home. But then, Tuesday thought, how many axe murderers were really this good looking?

Much too soon for Tuesday’s tastes, he found himself at the gate to his house.

“T-this is m-m-me” he said quietly. The guy smiled and nodded.

“Safe and sound then. It was nice meeting you Tuesday, I’ll see you around.” The guy prodded him in the stomach before winking and walking off.

“But, w-w-ait! I d-d-on’t even know y-you-your n-name.” The guy turned, still walking but backwards now, sliding his hands into his pockets and smiling.

“I’m River. I’m 17 and I like saving boys who blush and stutter and are named after days of the week” The guy grinned before waving and walking off into the distance.

Needless to say, as he absently heard his front door open, Tuesday went bright red.

“TUESDAY DENTON YOU GET IN THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW AND EXPLAIN WHY YOU’RE HOME SO LATE!”

*

tbc

Scarves, Bins and Slytherin Sins.

2007-07-20T00:24:36Z

Title: Scarves, Bins and Slytherin Sins.
Author: siriuslyremus
Pairing: SB/RL
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff explosion.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter. But one can and often does dream of doing so. Sigh.
Summary: Remus ponders and Sirius babbles. Match made in heaven.
Authors Notes: It's my first venture into the realm of my OTP. I read a lot of it [oh, I do] but this is my first time writing. Constructive criticism and feedback would be much appreciated, thank you :]

Remus can’t stand to look at the moon. It reminds him of the pain of transformation, the torture he’s bound to every month as his body shifts and melds and turns him into something he was never intended to be. He much prefers the sun. The daytime when, on a day not so cloudy, he can see nothing but the shining tips of trees in the Forbidden Forest, the sheen of the still lake, and the translucent shine to Sirius’ silky black hair.

Speaking of Sirius, Remus thinks to himself, he’s quite the oddity. A member of the house of Black, placed in Gryffindor, much to the chagrin of his mother, and most especially his annoying little snot of a brother Regulus. Remus thinks his sometimes-canine-companion odd in a most pleasant way. Sirius is all boy, prancing about in a body that screams I’m-almost-a-man-but-I’m-not-quite-there-yet, which gives him an adorable yet rather gangly look. Remus sometimes wonders to himself how he ever made friends with Sirius Black in the first place, their personalities being so different and all. But then Remus thinks that it’s rather an old question to be asking himself on days like today when everything is so different.

Because it just so happens that Remus Lupin is in love with Sirius Black.

Sirius doesn’t know this of course. At least Remus has never told him outright how he feels. His actions over the two years they have been together may well have given Sirius some indication as to how his Moony feels towards him but the words have never been spoken, not by Remus at least. If Sirius, a boy who prides himself on not caring two hoots about much of anything, were to be truly honest with himself though, he’d admit that there’s a sting of something, perhaps upset, each time he wears his heart on his sleeve and tells Remus how he feels and just gets a simple, yet earnest, smile in return.

Remus, being the smart prefect he is, knows this and thinks he ought to do something about that sting someday.

Remus’ reverie atop the windowsill in their shared dorm room is broken for the time being by the sound of trundling footsteps tripping up the stairwell. Remus smiles to himself because he can already tell its Sirius. There are twenty one stairs winding their way up to Gryffindor tower and for some obscure reason, Sirius and his long legs and awkwardly large feet always seem to rush ahead of himself, leaving the rest of his body playing catch up. Sirius always manages to somehow skip the twentieth step, he almost trips every time he comes up the stairs and Remus thinks to himself that it’s funny, the fact that they’re in seventh year yet even now, with seven years worth of stair climbing behind him, Sirius has never learnt to carry himself up the stairs properly.

Remus lets a smile grace as his lips as the door to their room is flung open and he is, of course, once again proved correct. Sirius comes through the door, half tripping, half flailing about with something in his grasp and Remus can’t help but grin at the sight of his awkward, gangling and utterly beautiful boyfriend babbling on before the door to the dorm is even fully slammed shut behind him.

Remus, for all he loves Sirius, only really ever listens to such conversation from Sirius with half an ear. It’s not that he doesn’t care what Sirius is saying but even the ex-most esteemed son of the House of Black would admit that the majority of the time what he’s talking about constitutes bollocks. At such times Remus focuses much more closely on Sirius’ actions.

“… someone had put it in the kitchen bin Moony! I mean, it had to be one of the Slytherins, it had to be! Who else would disgrace a Gryffindor scarf like that? More importantly who would disgrace your Gryffindor scarf like that?! It should be a - thing, one of them Muggle things. Commandment! Thou shalt not disgrace the scarves of Gryffindors’. I swear, if I ever catch… ”

Remus loves the way Sirius’ hands are one of the most animated parts of his body when he speaks. Long fingers tensing and folding, clutching and pointing. Remus thinks it an art form, really.

“ … so I fixed it and everything, I mean it wasn’t the fixing that was the issue because the counter curse was easy. It was just finding the bloody thing! I went all the way out to the lake and everything, I had no idea… ”

Remus loves the way even Sirius’ nostrils and their subsequent actions hold a dear place in his heart. What with them being perfectly shaped and even, leading up to that beautifully sculpted ski-slope of a nose.

“ … of course because I found it in the kitchens’ I had to swipe some food at the same time, sustenance you know, and that one bloody house-elf, you know the one? He’s always harking on at me, looking too shabby or something, tells me I’m gonna get my greasy hair in the food. Well! I told him, I said you don’t call me Severus Snape and get away with it… ”

Remus is just completely in love really. Completely and utterly besotted with the almost-man stood in front of him now, still prattling on about Dumbledore-knows-what. And he thinks maybe, just maybe, it’s time to let Sirius in on that particular little secret.

“… said he was gonna go off and tell som-”

“I don’t half love you Sirius Black”

For the first time in the seven years Remus had known him, Sirius Black was rendered speechless. Of course, Remus found it absolutely adorable, the way those bright eyes were blinking owlishly, mouth gaping a little like the goldfish Remus had as a child, but he didn’t have long to ponder the beauty before him seeming as in seconds he had a lap [and a mouth] full of beautiful, awkward, conversationally stunted Sirius.

“Seriously now!” Sirius finally managed when he came up for air, not vacating himself from the lap of his Moony where he was indeed most comfortable. “I’ve been thinking about this whole living arrangements things, for when we get out of this place and all? And of course, you’ll be coming to live with me. Because we’re in love! You love me and I love you and we’ll move in together and shag in every room and barely ever leave the house and it’ll be brilliant, fantastic even. Because we’re in love! Love, Moony. Love!”

Repetition is the mother of all memory Remus thinks to himself as he nods at Sirius, acquiescing to all requests because really, who is he to deny anything to do with such a loudly proclaimed love?

Happy and content Remus clutches Sirius to him, bestowing kisses to any of the skin that he loves so much within reach. Sirius is here, in his lap, still prattling away happily and they’re in love and really, if Moony were quite honest with himself, he rather imagines that this, being right here with Sirius firmly attached and in love, is where he’d like to stay. Forever and a day.

fin

It's a Date - Part One.

2007-06-05T21:48:44Z

Title: It's a Date [1/?]
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka
Rating: PG for now. NC-17 in later chapters.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Or Kakashi or Iruka which saddens me.
Summary: Kakashi lacks the social skills needed on a date apparently. And just what should a blind date entail?

“That’s the whole point of a blind date. Notice the blind part.” Summoning all of his Shinobi training, Genma resisted rolling his eyes.

“Maa, but how am I supposed to agree to a date when I don’t know who it is that I’m going on a date with?” Kakashi pondered, visible eye creasing in amusement. “And if we’re going to get technical then a blind date really would be a date where one or both of the participants are actually blind in order to-“

His remark was cut short by a sharp slap to the side of the head, courtesy of Genma’s hand. Pouting beneath the mask, Genma assumed anyway, Kakashi ran his fingers through his nest of hair with finesse, adjusting the silver strands back to how he liked them. Gravity defying.

“Yes well, whatever, Mr Technical. You’re practically blind anyway, what with you covering one eye li-“

Genma narrowly escaped a kunai to the face as he pelted away from the elite Jounin, shouting instruction as he left.

“Ichiraku’s, 7pm. BE THERE!”

Kakashi chuckled as he pulled and orange book from his pouch, flicking back to the page he had ceremoniously been prevented from reading as Genma had accosted him in the street.

Meandering back to his apartment, he eyed the sun as he gauged the time. He had at least three hours until the allotted ‘date’ began. Smiling to himself he flicked to the next page wondering how acceptable turning up late to a date was.

*

Eyeing himself in the mirror Kakashi realized something. No matter what he did to himself he never looked any different. Granted this was courtesy of a mask and a forehead protector that in all honesty covered about 90% of his face. He made the effort anyway though, as much as he could muster.

Adjusting a strand of hair he pulled back to take a good look at himself.

“Not bad. Maa, not amazing, but not exactly off putting” He spoke quietly to himself as he ran his hand down an annoying crease in the black shirt he was wearing. He figured the tailored dress pants might be a little too much for a meeting at Ichiraku’s but his wardrobe wasn’t exactly brimming full of civilian clothing.

With a tug to his mask to make sure it was firmly in place he slid his copy of Icha Icha off the dresser and headed out of the door, not bothering to lock it. If anyone decided to break into his apartment they would find a distinct lack of anything worth stealing. Except maybe his first editions of the Icha Icha series which he kept firmly under lock and key. And floorboards. And traps. What could he say, he was nothing but efficient.

Meandering his way through the village he ignored the frowns and murmurs of disgust from mothers-to-be at his choice of reading material and made his way to the ramen stand.

As he slid himself into a spare seat he took a glance at his watch. It ticked back at him as he noted he was only forty three minutes late, give or take a few seconds. He figured he’d either screwed up royally and his ‘blind date’ had abandoned the idea a half hour in or they were still here, most likely annoyed at his lack of punctuality.

Sliding Icha Icha close to himself on the counter he took a look around, assessing the situation. The customers were unusually sparse this particular evening, with only himself and a random civilian sat near him. Looking to his left he spotted someone he vaguely knew and Umino Iruka, sat with his face propped on his hands.

Well, given the distinct lack of women sat around Kakashi thusly decided his ‘date’ had given up and headed home. Though Kakashi was about to learn the lesson that one should never assume anything.

Tilting his head to the side in amusement Kakashi watched as Iruka slid himself across the seats slowly, one by one until he was sat aside the Copy-Nin.

“Yo” Kakashi smiled, raising a palm in greeting.

Iruka looked up, cheeks tinged a little pink as he frowned at the pale faced man he had come to sit by.

“You’re late. You do realize that it’s quite inconsiderate to turn up late without prior notification”

Kakashi blinked. And then blinked again. His mind, as full of smutty thoughts and numerous ways to kill people as it was, didn’t take long to figure out the meaning behind the message.

Iruka was his date? The no-nonsense, easily ticked off, punctual to a fault, smut-hating, cute in the ‘punish-me-sensei’ kind of way, was his date?

If this wasn’t one for the books Kakashi wasn’t sure what was.

“Maa, sensei” Kakashi grinned, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck a little sheepishly. “How would I have been able to give you prior notification as to my lateness if I didn’t know it was you I was coming to dine with?”

Iruka opened his mouth to reply but he had to admit, Kakashi had a point. Which frustrated him to no end.

“But still, it’s only polite to arrive on time when you know there’s someone waiting for you” he admonished.

“True, true” Kakashi admitted “Mmm, this is quite a surprise though. Genma told me that you asked him to ask me to meet you here.”

”I did.” The Chunnin was blushing slightly but his gaze was fixed on Kakashi as he spoke.

Smiling Kakashi propped his tilted head on one hand as he looked Iruka over. Shifting in his seat a little, the Academy teachers ears pinked but he didn’t look away.

“I didn’t even realize you… well that you, er… ”

“Took it up the ass?”

Kakashi grinned because Iruka was most certainly red-faced now but he gave him credit for being straight to the point at least.

“Exactly. And yet you set this date up without knowing my own personal preferences.” Sitting upright Kakashi beckoned Ayame, the young woman behind the counter over before turning back to Iruka.

“True, I did. But I figured that if you aren’t interested in men at all then we can just eat together. And if you are… well then that’s a different story. Just because you might be that way inclined doesn’t mean that you’re automatically interested in me so we’ll see where it goes. If you’re not against the idea”

Kakashi felt Iruka’s confidence waver slightly as he ordered before answering. As Ayame wandered off to prepare their meals Kakashi turned back to his ‘date’.

“I don’t discriminate.” Smiling, the Chunnin let out a little puff of air he’d been holding. “And I think you’re a good looking man. So I agree, lets see where it goes.”

Blushing gently now, but looking happier Iruka smiled and nodded, the scar on his nose curving gently. The pair spoke idly as their food was served, though conversation seemed a little stilted after such revelations. But it was the serving of the food that brought Iruka’s attention back to the moment at hand.

“Naruto was talking about you the other day. About the things you’re teaching them in training now…” Iruka watched as Kakashi slurped a noodle and merely lifted an eyebrow in response. “He doesn’t have a bad word to say about you… well except for the fact that you’re late to every session and that you give them the most mundane jobs on occasion. Tell me, what does weeding 12 gardens in a row teach them?”

“It’s character building.” Is all Kakashi had to say for himself.

“Well… anyway, he loves being part of the team. Oh, except for having Sasuke as a member, he’s not too keen on that part. I mean the two have never gotten on really have they and-“

”Do you always babble like this?” Kakashi turned to face the Chunnin, cutting off the conversation.

Gritting his teeth and frowning, Iruka attempted to keep cool. “Not always no, but when your partner lacks the most inane conversation skills then one has to do what one can.”

“I don’t lack conversation skills. I just don’t see the point in wasting my time and energy on conversation that means nothing in the grand scheme of things.” Kakashi pondered, head tilted in thought.

“It’s what friends do to pass the time” Iruka grumbled, feeling utterly deflated.

“We’re not friends” Kakashi spoke, twisting to face his dining partner. His face, what Iruka could see of it, gave off a complete air of innocence.

“No, no we’re obviously not.” Iruka stood, sliding his hand into his pocket and producing enough money to cover both meals. Slapping it down onto the counter, he looked down at the man sat beside him. “I’m leaving now, I’m very sorry for wasting your time Kakashi-san”

Kakashi blinked as Iruka began walking away, pondering exactly what had gone wrong. Standing, he bowed thanks to Ayame and leisurely took off after Iruka, his long strides catching up easily.

“Let me walk you home sensei” He smiled.

“That’s not necessary but thank you” Iruka spoke between gritted teeth.

“Maa, Iruka-sensei, I seem to have offended you. I should’ve posed that as a question rather than a statement. I just feel that friends are… well, something I don’t really have and I didn’t realize you thought that way about us.”

Stomping a little because, once irritated, Iruka was hard pressed to get out of a mood so easily.

“Yes, well apparently I made a mistake.” He hopped quickly up the stairs to his apartment, reaching into his pocket for his keys and unlocking the door.

“I mean, the last time we spoke you were yelling at me for nominating the kids for the Chunnin exams. If that’s how friends act then I’m not really sure I want any… ”

Kakashi stumbled to a halt as Iruka spun round, eyebrows creased in annoyance as he pointed a finger at the Copy-Nin.

“What’s wrong with you?! You’ve been nothing but hostile or just damn silent all evening, arguing every point I have to make. I said before if you’re not interested in me as anything, even a friend then we could just eat together peacefully but no… you have to make it one of the most awkward situations I have ever been in and-“

Iruka’s tirade was cut short as Kakashi grabbed him by both arms and pushed him back against his apartment door. Staring up at the slightly taller man, Iruka blinked, shocked by the sudden change in atmosphere. It was Kakashi that made the first move then, quickly lowering his head to press his masked lips against Iruka’s. The clothed kiss was gentle, a few pecks to Iruka’s lips before Kakashi pulled away, lowering the others arms.

“What… was that?” Iruka spoke, lifting a finger to press against his lips.

“If I’m not completely mistaken that was a kiss.” Kakashi frowned.

“You… lack basic social skills Kakashi-san. You don’t just throw yourself at someone! Especially someone you’ve been less then interested in even speaking to all evening!”

Sighing, his visible eyebrow creasing in impatience, Kakashi took Iruka’s hand and pressed it to his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart.

“What… why… ?” Iruka struggled to explain what he could feel beneath the shirt.

“You make me nervous. I get quiet and hostile when I’m nervous” Kakashi stated simply.

“But why are you nervous?!”

Kakashi rolled his eyes… well, eye as Iruka could tell.

“I thought the kiss might have covered that one. I like you. And because I like you, you make me nervous. And I can get annoyingly impertinent when I’m nervous” The Jounin spoke, explaining the situation as well as he could.

“Oh… ohhh” It seemed to dawn on Iruka then and he smiled, softly. A gentle smile that made him chuckle inside because he could feel Kakashi’s heart race even faster at the view. He lifted his head, slowly to press his lips once again over the Jounin’s, the mask shifting against the sensitive skin, causing pleasurable friction. Kakashi’s eyes flickered open as Iruka pulled away.

“Well… are you going to invite me in? For coffee?” Grinning he looked the Chunnin over. Chuckling, Iruka reached a hand back and slid his door open, stepping back into his apartment, releasing himself from Kakashi’s hold.

“I never have coffee on a first date” And with that, Iruka smiled brightly and clicked the door to his apartment shut, minus Kakashi.

Blinking at the door that had just been closed in his face, it took Kakashi a minute to realize what had happened. He smiled then, chuckling to himself as he stood upright and began the walk back to his apartment wondering what exactly constituted a second date.

tbc

Ouch.

2007-06-05T21:46:36Z

Title: Ouch.
Pairing: Kakashi and his man.
Rating: Not even PG, how sad.
Summary: Iruka tries to return the favour. [Sad as it is, the favour doesn't involve sex. Sigh.]
Warnings: Fluff overload.

Pull.

“Ow”

Tug.

“Ick!”

Draaaaaag.

“OUCH!”

“Oh for goodness sake! You’re a Jounin of the highest calibre, a lean mean fighting machine whose life has revolved around being taught how to kill, maim and incite unadulterated pornographic thoughts into children’s minds through the use of Icha Icha, and yet you can’t even deal with getting your hair brushed?” Iruka bonked Kakashi on the head with the handle of the brush he had in his grasp.

“It hurts!” Kakashi whined.

“Well maybe if you brushed it everyday it wouldn’t be so tangled and hurt when you brus-, oh don’t look at me like that, you look like I just sat on Pakkun with the intent to suffocate him.” Iruka plopped himself down on the floor by his now owlishly blinking lover.

“I’m going to tell him you said that you know.” Kakashi nodded emphatically.

“Oh grow up” Iruka spoke, crossing his arms across his chest and trying not to blush when he poked himself in the ribs with the hairbrush he was still holding.

“No, you grow up” Kakashi retorted and stuck his tongue out.

“No, you gro- agh! I’m not doing this, I’m 24 and I’m a teacher.” Iruka threw the brush to the ground and proceeded to sulk.

“Mhm, because that face you’re making now doesn’t make you look about 6. Why the hell did you wanna brush my hair anyway? What’s wrong with it? It defies the laws of gravity naturally, I promise.”

Iruka murmured something under his breath that was quite inaudible as his chin was firmly tucked against his chest. He looked somewhat akin to Pakkun when he’d been caught stealing sweets of some kind.

“Come again?” Kakashi spoke and then managed to leer at his filthy double speak. Pressing forward a little he bent his head towards Iruka and blinked mismatched eyes at his lover, eyes that lacked any of the innocence he had intended. This was Kakashi, one could expect no less.

“I wanted to brush your hair” Iruka murmured again.

“Mm, I got that part when I was having my hair forcibly ripped from my scalp by that thing you call a hairbrush. What I don’t get is why? Is this some weird kinky thing you’ve decided to come up with because if it is, I could totally get used to the pain.”

Iruka sighed as he watched Kakashi’s eyebrows do something of an Irish jig at the thought.

“You always brush my hair. When I get out of the bath, before I got to bed, randomly in the middle of my grading papers … Kakashi you even get out of bed in the mornings to brush my hair before I go to the Academy. All because I said it felt nice when you did. So I figured I could return the favour. Sadly I don’t think the feeling is too reciprocal.” Iruka raised his head and watched as Kakashi once again blinked at him a few times. Never mind scarecrow, this man could rival an owl.

As always though, Iruka never quite managed to predict what was going to happen in time to prevent being attacked.

The good kind, obviously.

Kakashi pounced quickly and had the shy Chunnin on the floor before Naruto could have even shouted ‘RAMEN!’. Kissing across the scar patterning Iruka’s nose, Kakashi then grinned and pressed their lips together gently.

“Have I ever told you how cute you are? Especially when your face goes all red like that?” Kakashi smiled and pointed at Iruka’s pink cheeks.

“Once or twice, it may have been mentioned” Iruka smiled gently.

“Good” Kakashi grinned. “Now where did that hairbrush go?”

fin

Things Change.

2007-06-05T21:44:48Z

Title: Things Change.
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka
Rating: PG-13 I reckon, maybe not even that.
Summary: Kakashi thinks about some things.

*

You never intended to fall for anyone. Let alone a man.

*

You found his actions clumsy. The way you would stroll into the mission room four hours after the allotted time slot for you to hand in your report. He’d catch your gaze across the desk, pen grasped between his teeth as he attempted to admonish you with his eyes only to have it fail disastrously as your eyebrow arched at the ink marking his chin.

You tapped your mask, grubby, mission dirtied finger on your chin as he glared at your for your tardiness.

“You might want to sort that out Iruka-Sensei. It’s unbecoming,” is all you had to say to grant yourself a blush as you turned and left and he began scrubbing furiously at his chin.

It wasn’t until at least two months later as you saw him tapping Naruto’s nose at the Ramen stand that you realised you wanted to wipe the mark away for him.

*

You found his actions tedious. After weeks of admonishment for late reports and happening by each other on the way to the market or the Ramen stand, you found yourself dining at Iruka’s every Tuesday and Friday when you weren’t busy.

The suffix of sensei had long been dropped and it was as you were pondering when and how that occurred that you glanced up to find the young Chunnin laboriously stacking his graded papers. Alphabetically.

Leaning back on the sofa you waited out a silent half hour as you watched him walk himself through the same routine you assumed he did everyday even when you weren’t in attendance. Stack the students’ papers alphabetically. Scribble a smiley face on a random sheet of paper to make sure the marking pen was working correctly, head back into the kitchen to check all the appliances were switched off before making tea. And then the utterly absurd walk back to the living to fluff the same old ratty cushion.

It was all rather odd to you, a Jounin, former member of ANBU whose life had never revolved around routine, never revolved around having a set way of doing things. You were more a ‘fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants’ kind of guy whose only routine consisted of getting up in the morning and brushing your teeth, and that didn’t always happen either.

You soon realised the routine Iruka had developed for himself put you at ease more than anything else in your haphazard life ever had. You slept well, on Iruka’s neatly arranged sofa bed, for the first time in years after the realisation hit you.

*

You found kissing a blessing. For all your sexual conquests, and there had been a few, mostly random women when away on longer missions, you had never actually taken the time to fully immerse yourself in the art of kissing. Iruka thankfully opened your eyes to what you had been missing out on.

The pretty Academy teacher loved to kiss. He whimpered and moaned each time you pressed your lips to his, no matter how soft the pressure. You found that you felt safe, cocooned and … loved within his arms as they wrapped around you like vines, tongues brushing against each other in differing ways.

The first time you kissed it had been pitch black and he had placed his fingers upon the rim of your mask, completely still, waiting patiently for permission or admonishment. You gave him the go-ahead after an awkward pause, realising that the night kept your face hidden. It wasn’t until days later, in the bright light of day that Iruka brought the subject up over breakfast.

“I’ve memorised your face with my hands so if you’re worried I’ll find you unattractive, there’s no need. You’re a beautiful man Kakashi.” The words were said with the utmost confidence yet Iruka couldn’t help the pink that tinged his cheeks and the way he kept his eyes on his plate.

You mulled over the idea all day and it wasn’t until sunset while you were absently reading Icha Icha that you came to a decision. You didn’t think Iruka would actually let out a sound akin to a squeak when you rubbed your bare cheek against his but it made you snuffle a laugh anyway.

You remember him turning, eyes wide as he took in your features and you couldn’t help but smile through the awkwardness as he tilted his head to the side as he looked, much like Pakkun did when he was a puppy. It was only a minute later that a bright smile broke out on Iruka’s face and he pounced.

“I told you. You’re stunning!”

*

Making love to Iruka the first time was incredibly awkward, nothing like the way Icha Icha told it, but completely satisfying to the both of you. Awkwardness lay in the fact that you were doing this with another man, a man you cared about deeply, but a man none the less and neither of you had any background experience with the matter to deal with it in a better fashion.

After a rather awkward discussion about who should ‘top’ Iruka settled it in the simplest yet most gratifying manner.

“‘Kashi I love you” and just like that he lay back on the bed, wearing nothing but a smile and come hither eyes, arms stretched out reaching for you. You found in that instant, that there was no-where else you wanted to be but those arms.

*

Love had crept upon you and you found yourself infinitely comfortable with the idea, realising you’d had the time to adjust to this new way of life. A new way of life that involved being with someone, beloved Iruka, who cared for you in a way that no-one had before. Your life now revolved around someone other than yourself and now, your thought process on missions didn’t just revolve around coming back alive but now spread to involve coming back alive and safe to Iruka.

So you found yourself easily spilling how you felt, a year and half later over the low table that lay in the apartment the both of you now shared.

“I love you Iruka”

The one person you’d come to love intimately in your life gently set his grading pen down on the desk and looked at you for a long while, face seemingly unreadable. You couldn’t help but realise that your palms were sweating slightly, this was the first time you had confessed to the man you loved and though you knew your love was returned you weren’t entirely sure how the whole situation was going to play out. You realise now, looking back on it that you needn’t have worried.

Iruka stood, heading over to the cabinet and taking something out. Coming back to the table he placed whatever he had in his hand on the table and slid it across to you. He looked up at you, smiling gently which made the grooved scar on his nose upturn before he spoke softly in the voice you loved.

“I’m really glad to hear that Kakashi”

Lifting his hand, you looked down to find two silver bands laying upon the table. Your mind distinctly recognised them as wedding bands, a subject you hadn’t exactly been lectured on at the Academy.

You never thought of yourself as the settling down type. It’s funny how things change.

fin

Persuasive Is As Persuasive Does.

2007-06-05T21:44:05Z

Title: Persuasive Is As Persuasive Does.
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka
Rating: PG
Summary: Who knew a dance could be so enlightening? Pure fluff.

“Chaperone”

Iruka stares at the man before him, clutching a dress case in each hand that suspiciously look like they may be hiding suits of some kind. The man ahead of him smiles and flicks a lock of silver hair out of his face.

“No. No!” Okay, not the best defence Iruka could have come up with but it’s all his mind can fathom right now.

“Oh c’mon Iruka-Sensei! Think of it as a mission, to uphold the morals and virtues that Konoha has instilled in these kids” Kakashi tries to hold back a snort without much luck.

“Morals and virtues that you yourself don’t even hold up” Iruka blushes as Kakashi cocks his unhidden eyebrow at him, a smile hidden beneath his mask, but Iruka plods on regardless. “No, I refuse. Graduation prom or no graduation prom, I’m not going!”

*

Not even fifteen minutes later Iruka is scowling into the mirror before him as Kakashi’s hands wrap around him from behind. He blushes furiously, breath catching as he wonders exactly where those nimble fingers are headed. He sighs, equal parts in relief and frustration as Kakashi grasps the edges of the bow-tie and readjusts it so it sits comfortably on Iruka’s neck.

“How the hell did you talk me into this?” Iruka moans. He can’t help but let his eyes flick back to the mirror though. Who the hell knew Kakashi could look good in anything but his uniform?

“Hasn’t anybody told you yet?” Kakashi rests his chin on Iruka’s shoulder; eye curving as he undoubtedly smiles beneath the mask “I can be very persuasive when I want to be”

Iruka’s face turns fifty shades of red before hitting some kind of fuchsia colour at the purr in Kakashi’s tone and sticks to looking at his feet as his hands fiddle with the buttons on his pressed white shirt.

“You look good Iruka-Sensei” Kakashi starts, stepping back from Iruka and adjusting his cufflinks to fit more neatly on his wrists.

Iruka blushes and stores the compliment away before murmuring, chin propped on his chest.

“I look like a penguin … which has my inner dolphin deeply upset”.

*

The music in the hall is loud and abrasive to Iruka’s sensitive eardrums but he can’t help but feel a swell of pride as he sees a plethora of his students milling happily about the halls, sipping punch, some of them dancing together eagerly.

His eyes scan the room but he doesn’t have a chance to find anyone in particular before a bright beam of blonde lands on him, wrapping it’s tentacle like arms around his chest.

“Iruka-Sensei! I’m so glad you came! I didn’t think you would, I was talking to Sasuke about it before because we were having ramen, speaking of ramen we haven’t been out for ramen for ages Iruka-Sensei, I miss having ramen with you because when we have ram-”

Iruka slaps a gentle hand over Naruto’s mouth before he can take the conversation around to the pros of eating ramen as a staple diet. Smiling he plops Naruto back on the floor and fluffs his hair.

“You look good in a tux Naruto” The kid before him blushes a little before twirling 360 degrees to show off. “Where are Sasuke and Sakura anyway?”

Naruto lets out a small snort before grabbing Iruka’s and dragging him to the other corner of the hall. Iruka can’t help but feel a swell of something in his chest as he realises Kakashi is following right behind him.

They stop in front of Sasuke leaning against a pillar and Sakura bouncing up and down in front of him, hands clasped together in a plea.

“She’s been at it for twenty minutes now” Naruto leans up to whisper conspiratorially to Iruka.

“Please Sasuke-Kun, please! I’ll beg! … See, dress covered knees are now in contact with the floor! Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase Sasuke-Kun!”

Iruka flicks his eyes to Kakashi, a deep smile on his face as he watches Kakashi shake his head and laugh beneath his mask. His eyes flick back to Sakura as she continues to plead with the quiet boy.

“Hmm” Is all Sasuke says but for some odd reason it seems to be enough.

“Yes!” Sakura jumps to her feet, obviously taking Sasuke’s grunt as an affirmative to dance and proceeds to drag the ever sulking graduate to the dance floor.

“Hey!” Naruto screams at her as he bounces on the heels of his shiny shoes. “Hands off my mancub!”

Sakura ignores him but Iruka can’t help but let out a bellow of laughter, similar to Kakashi’s as Sasuke turns to him and growls.

“Dobe! Don’t call me that out of the bedroom!”

His protest is met by a fluffy pink dress as Sakura begins to twirl him around painfully on the dance floor.

Kakashi turns to Naruto and places a pale hand on his shoulder, still stifling earlier giggles. “Mancub?”

“Yeah!” Naruto grins, a faint blush covering his cheeks but his face is happy. “You wouldn’t believe it to look at him but he’s a total snugglewhore”

Iruka smiles but then politely coughs in to his hand as he gathers Naruto’s attention. “Well, as endearing as that is to know … I think your beloved needs rescuing”

All eyes turn to the dance floor as they see Sakura happily manhandling a Sasuke that actually looks like he may cry if the charade went on any longer.

“I swear Naruto” Sasuke grinds out “If you don’t help me now, never again will you see the light of ramen”

Before Iruka and Kakashi can blink a whirl of blonde flies past, obviously going to the rescue of his beloved Sasuke … and ramen rights.

“Say Iruka-Sensei” Kakashi smiles, coming to stand in front of Iruka so the slightly shorter Chunin had to look up. “How about you and I show them how it’s done?”

“I … I don’t dance” Iruka attempts feebly, though part of his mind is screaming to let Kakashi take him into his arms.

“Hmm” Iruka looks up to find Kakashi tapping a finger against his chin, looking as contemplative as one can with only one eye visible. “Don’t dance? Or can’t dance?”

Iruka opens and closes his mouth a few times to answer or protest, he’s not sure, but before he has the chance to, Kakashi has taken gentle hold of his arm and dragged him out to dance.

Kakashi’s arms wrap around him and he begins to gently sway the academy teacher to the lilting music. Iruka blushes shamefully and keeps his eyes locked on their feet. “I can’t do this Kakashi-Sensei, I can’t dance”

Kakashi tilts his chin up with a long finger and grins, or so the mask movement tells Iruka. “What, you never did this with the girls when you were younger?”

“Like you ever did?” Iruka snorts softly.

“Nah, the maiming and killing kind of spoiled the mood but a sharingan is infinitely helpful in these situations”

“Really though” Iruka continues after another couple of minutes swaying to the beat, arms wrapped around a sturdy and [not handsome, not handsome] Jounin “I can’t dance”

“Well” Kakashi replies solemnly “consider this the first step in teaching. I’ll have you waltzing across the floor waaaaaaaay before the first dance at our wedding reception”.

“Eep!”

…

“Ok” Kakashi replies softly “stepping on toes although accidental, is a mistake but that fuchsia colour your cheeks are sporting is cute, that can stay”

Before Iruka can protest, before he can waffle on about how he’s not going near any sort of ‘wedding’ with Kakashi [pft, yeah right], before he can even blink. Kakashi has twirled him around and the next thing he knows the infamous mask is gone.

And all Iruka can think is that he wished he could’ve seen Kakashi’s face. Of course this is completely forgotten when Kakashi presses his lips hotly to Iruka’s, taking the smaller mans gasp as acceptance to eagerly slide his tongue into his mouth and play tag with his own.

All Iruka can do is wrap his arms tightly around Kakashi’s shoulders, kiss back and moan …

… and form a guest list for the wedding.

fin

Emotional Overload - Part One.

2007-06-05T21:43:29Z

Title: Emotional Overload [1/?].
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka.
Rating: PG for now.
Summary: It's just a whole bunch of angst at first. Iruka's a heart-on-his-sleeve kinda Chunnin. And Kakashi ... well he has a heart buried somewhere deep.

“I love you”

Lips immediately stilled against a trembling shoulder as Iruka spoke, his voice muffled against the cushy pillow on his bed.

Silence.

The hand that had been trailing down his bare back stopped immediately on his side. Iruka held his breath for a moment, nothing but beats of silence filling the room before the hand was yanked back like the other man had been scolded.

“K-Kakashi?” Iruka spoke hesitantly, shifting himself after a minute to turn around. He was stopped abruptly as a firm hand was placed on his shoulder and he heard the scrape of fingernails against fabric.

As soon as the hand was lifted Iruka shifted himself around and watched as a masked Kakashi stood up and off the bed, adjusting his boxers, eyes never connecting with Iruka’s wistful gaze.

“Kakashi, what are you-” He stopped himself as the man in question gathered his clothes up off the floor, flinging them on more quickly then they had come off.

So this was it. Iruka wasn’t stupid, Kakashi was leaving. One simple slip of the tongue, a voiced spill of emotion and Iruka had broken down everything he thought they’d tentatively built together.

“Have to go. Early mission tomorrow” Kakashi spoke, voice hoarse as he adjusted his forehead protector.

He was perched on the window ledge, just about to jump out and away from Iruka when the young Chunnin spoke quietly.

“I understand”

Kakashi was gone in the blink of an eye and Iruka sought for truth in his own statement. Snuggling back under the covers, feeling naked and ashamed he did understand.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

***

Iruka went about his morning routine as he always would. Showering and dressing before heading to make himself some breakfast.

His mind was racing, every subject under the sun flitting through it. ’Should the kids try hands on practice today? Could I do with getting some take-out ramen on the way home? What exactly is the cure for a broken heart?’ At that thought his eyes widened and he shook his head wildly, damp ponytail dripping spattering water onto his cheeks.

If he was going to get through at least the week, damn it, at least the day without a breakdown he needed to keep the masked Jounin out of his mind.

His appetite severely depleted he headed out for the academy.

***

“No, no Saki” Iruka sighed inwardly, the kid was sweet but this was taking effort and energy reserves Iruka didn’t have at the moment. “You have to hold your kunai like this”

Iruka proved no better at grasping the kunai as he felt a familiar semblance of chakra far off. The weapon fell to the ground as Iruka twisted around, searching avidly for the owner of the spectre.

He knew he shouldn’t, that if he saw Kakashi, if he spoke to him, if he smiled at him, if he even breathed in his direction that he wouldn’t be able to cope with it but he couldn’t help it. His body was yearning to see the silver-haired scarecrow, his chakra practically screaming out with the need.

And then there he was. Just over at the far end of the field surrounded by a bouncy Naruto and company, probably heading over for a ramen lunch after a busy morning training.

Kakashi didn’t even glance his way.

tbc

First Post.

2007-06-05T21:42:44Z

Primarily this is going be to a journal to archive my Fanfiction. I never had one of these two years ago which is a sad thing because everything I wrote back in the day has gone. Sad thing for me.

So basically I'm just going to post my stories in here. They range from Naruto [KakaIru will always be my first love] to Harry Potter [yes Moony and Padfoot are my OTP ♥ yet I've not posted any of my Sirius/Remus stuff... why? because it compares dismally to the works already out there. Maybe I'll pluck up the courage someday] to original fiction to band fiction... I write a lot of crap so I figured why not make a writing journal as somewhere to keep it.

Also, I really wanted the username siriuslyremus so that may have had some part in the new journal making.

Enough from me. On with my laborious posting.