The Santa Barbara Police Station fell silent in the wake a thunderous boom, so loud that the walls shook. Maybe it wasn’t just the sound, Shawn mentally revised. The walls continued to shake even as the noise faded. A second boom echoed in the distance, followed by another. The windows rattled and for a second he thought they were going to break. He shifted away from them, towards the center of the room.

“-path of a meteor shower.”

Shawn turned, along with all the others in the room, to the television as it flickered to life. The screen was half-blurred with static, and the sound faded in and out. It was a local station, though he wasn’t sure which one.

“We have reports… cities destroyed… Los Angeles… Those in the area… danger… tsunami. Citizens are advised… shelter. This… worldwide. It-”

The station was plunged into darkness. He could hear people moving, drawers opening and closing. Small beams of light cut through the darkness. Shawn glanced to his right at Lassiter. The detective stood close by, flashlight in hand. Their gazes met. Lassiter took a step closer.

“People!” Chief Vick’s voice cut through the room. “Downstairs, now.”

They all jumped to her command. No one pushed, no one ran, but they all filed downstairs as fast as possible. Shawn spared a backwards glance as he reached the stairs. Vick waited at the top, most likely intending to be the last person down. They walked one by one into the cells, siting in lines along the floor.

The booms got louder, closer, until that was all Shawn could here. All but one of the flashlights were turned out. Shawn closed his eyes and went through the blueprint of the building in his head, over and over again, trying to think of any place more structurally sound than where they already were.

A hand closed over Shawn’s. He kept his eyes closed, and stopped thinking.

*****

Shawn looked up. The noise had finally stopped. At first he’d thought he’d gone deaf, but he could hear the fabric of Juliet’s jacket shifting against her blouse as she moved slightly, and the labored, near-panicked breathing of Adam Hornstock in the far corner. Minutes passed without another of those booms, stretching into an hour.

Slowly, Shawn stood. His legs protested. He’d been sitting far too long. Stepping around people, he made his way towards the cell door. It creaked loudly as it opened. Someone with a flashlight followed him, lighting the way in front of them. They stopped at the bottom of the stairwell. Cracks ran along the walls.

Lassiter took the first step, pointing the flashlight in front of them. Shawn followed. The landing halfway up the stairs was clear but beyond that the stairwell was filled with rocks.

“Here.” Lassiter handed the flashlight to Juliet, who kept it pointed at the rubbled.

Shawn glanced down the stairs. There was a line of people behind him, all staring up at them.

“Shawn.”

He turned. Lassiter had a rock in his hands. Shawn reached forward to take it, then passed it down to Buzz. It passed down the line, forgotten as Lassiter handed him another rock then another.

Slowly, they cleared the way up the stairs.

*****

The people were gone. All of the people were gone, save them.

Shawn pushed his way through the rubble towards his old neighborhood. Buzz and Vick and the others were out looking for supplies, for food, for anything that could get them out of the wreckage of the city. It was strange to think that just yesterday everything had been fine. He’d stopped by his father’s house to return a hammer and stopped for a Jamba Juice on his way into the station. He’d argued with Lassiter, been threatened by Vick, flirted with Juliet. He’d barely spoken to any of them today.

He stepped forward onto a sheet of metal. It slid out from beneath him, clattering over the rocks and splashing into something he couldn’t seen on the other side of a wall of rubble. Shawn would have fallen if Lassiter hadn’t pulled him back.

“Shawn.”

He didn’t look at Lassiter as he tried to stand. He needed to make it over that wall.

Lassiter didn’t let go.

“Shawn.”

It was hard to breathe. Images of water kept coming to mind, something he’d seen.

“Shawn, you can’t go over there.”

“But…” He gasped for breath. Tears crawled down his cheeks. His body was already grieving even though his mind had yet to catch up. “But my dad…”

Their neighborhood was just on the other side of that wall. They were less than a block from his father’s house.

“Shawn, I’m sorry. It’s not there any more.”

Lassiter didn’t let go of him, even as his tears faded, leaving only the sound of waves lapping against a new shoreline.

*****

Shawn picked his way carefully through the rubble of the Santa Barbara Courthouse, climbing steadily up broken brick and concrete, over shards of twisted metal and shattered glass, until he reached a somewhat stable spot near the peak, high enough that he could get a clear look at the city around them. He stood slowly. Bricks shifted beneath his feet, threatening almost idly to send him toppling to his death. He didn’t move, uncaring of the danger.

The Courthouse hadn’t been the tallest building in the area, but it stood the tallest now. Gone were the skyscrapers and Spanish architecture that had once formed downtown Santa Barbara. Gone were the city monuments, the entire shopping district, the suburban homes, and the waterfront. Broken buildings filled the streets in all directions but one, mixed in with impact craters and burned wreckage. Not far to the west he could see water lapping against the ruins of what had been his favorite bar. He avoiding thinking of what lay under the water beyond that.

Shawn turned and pointed. “That way,” he shouted down at the others below. He could see a clear path through the rubble to the southwest, clear enough that they could work their way further inland before he had to scout again.

The trucks revved to life, the grumble of their engines echoing through the silent city. They turned slowly amidst the surrounding debris, one after another, to head in the direction Shawn had indicated. He half-skidded down the pile of rubble, moving faster than safety dictated. One of the trucks waited, idling nearby. A few loose rocks rolled past Shawn as he leaped to the street and hit the ground running. Gus held out a hand to help Shawn into the back of the truck, a slight frown the only sign that he disapproved of Shawn’s recklessness. Shawn slammed the tailgate shut behind him. The truck started moving as soon as Shawn was seated.

He glanced at the people in the truck with him, the sight of them, safe and mostly sound quelling the fear that had been coiled in his stomach from the day the meteors struck. Lassiter was driving. He spared a short glance for Shawn in the rear-view mirror as the vehicle turned. Things were still a little weird between them. Neither of them were quite sure how to act with each other. Hard to feel ill will towards someone, anyone, after what had happened, not when there were so few of them left alive. Over time they might even be real friends.

Too bad it took an apocalypse for that to happen.

Chief Vick – just Vick now, actually, since the Santa Barbara Police Department was no more – sat next at Lassiter’s side. She kept her eyes on the road, watching for anything that might block their path, anything that might be a danger to them. They all still looked to Vick for leadership. Force of habit, perhaps, or maybe it was because she was the most level-headed of them all. The loss of her family – especially the loss of her daughter – had hit her hard, and in their place she had adopted all of them as her new family.

Gus sat next to Shawn in the back of the truck, Juliet wedged between Gus and the truck cab. Their hands were carefully not touching, though it was obvious that they both wanted to. It wasn’t a relationship that Shawn had really seen coming, but he was glad for it. At the very least it was a distraction for both of them in the midst of so much loss. They both still cried at night, though Shawn pretended he didn’t notice. Sometimes he felt like crying too.

Two officers sat opposite them – Janet Davis, Dean Carter, next to Adam Hornstock. Buzz was up ahead, driving the truck that held most of their supplies. A third truck of officers mixed with civilian aides was further ahead, leading the way through the city.

Shawn let his head fall back on the edge of the truck bead. The sky above was a clear blue scattered with clouds. There was more sky now than he ever remembered seeing before.

He missed his father more than he ever thought he would.

He liked to think his mother was still alive, somewhere, mostly because he wasn’t sure he could handle her being dead, not on top of everything else. Instead he imagined she was safe, surviving just as they were. They’d find each other again someday, he was sure of it.

*****

The trucks rolled to a halt in a line along the top of a cliff at the edges of Red Rock Canyon. Doors slammed as they all slowly emerged from the vehicles to stare down at the huge lake below. Lassiter stepped over to stand next to Shawn, their shoulders not quite brushing. No one spoke. Shawn glanced briefly at the others, their expressions ranging from Lassiter’s blank stare to the look of open-mouth shock on Adam’s face.

Hotels popped up like islands in the middle of the lake. No lights shone from the drowned casinos. Chunks of the buildings were missing. Some had lost whole floors, as if a giant had come by with a razor blade and just chopped the tops off. The lake lapped at the base of the cliff they stood on and stretched off into the horizon.

They’d spent two weeks trying to make it this far, all for nothing.

Shawn was the first to turn. “So much for Las Vegas,” he said quietly as he swung himself back up into the truck.

*****

“Hold on, we’re almost there.”

There was something nice about being held in Lassiter – no, Carlton’s – arms. Better than he would have expected. He said so. “I don’t know why your wife divorced you. You smell nice.”

Carlton almost dropped him. “Shawn…”

His head fell on Carlton’s shoulder. “Just the blood-loss talking. Don’t mind me.”

“I don’t know if that makes it any better.” He could feel Carlton’s throat moving against his forehead.

Maybe it didn’t. He was a little too light-headed right now to think. If he was more lucid, he might have put blood loss and babbling together and figured out that he should stop talking.

“I was never really psychic,” he said instead. “I wanted to tell you after a while but you would have arrested me.”

Carlton was silent for several minutes. Shawn’s eyes had fallen closed at some point, though it’d been too dark too see much even with his eyes open. How long had they been traveling away from Santa Barbara? At least a month. Juliet would know. She kept track of things like that. The trucks had given out after two weeks. Hard to find gas to siphon out in the middle of the woods. Plenty of gas stations, but without electricity those didn’t help them much.

“Thanks for saving me from that coyote,” Shawn muttered against Carlton’s throat.

He had a new appreciation for just how good of a shot Carlton was. The animal must have sensed mankind’s downfall, or maybe it was just as hard pressed for food as everyone else. Shawn and Carlton had been scouting the area, looking for food, signs of life, anything useful, really. The coyote had jumped at him out of the dark, approaching silently and attacking before Shawn had had a chance to react. It was a scrawny, mangy thing, and for a second he’d felt sorry for it. That had been before it’s teeth had closed on his arm and its claws had dug into his side.

“You’re welcome,” Carlton said softly. “And, I wouldn’t have arrested you.”

“You would have.”

Carlton’s sigh ghosted over Shawn’s shoulder. “Yeah. I would have.” The arms around him shifted slightly as Carlton adjusted his grip. “Things are different now.”

“Everything’s different now.”

*****

Shawn moved slower than he used to. At least they still had a decent supply of Tylenol and anesthetic. His side twinged painfully as he jumped down from the back of the cart. It wasn’t as fast as a truck, but it was easier to find food for the horses than it was to scrounge for gas.

Juliet waved from the doorway of the warehouse they’d found. Buzz would already be inside, securing the windows and doors. They’d all found roles, though Shawn was currently kept from his while his side healed. He watched Officer Dean head out on foot with Carlton with a twinge of regret.

“Let’s see if we can get a fire started.” Adam jumped down beside Shawn, his arm slipping under Shawn’s to help him into the building.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Carlton glancing back at them. Their gazes met and Shawn knew he wasn’t the only one feeling jealous.

*****

“Move!”

Shawn was on his feet as soon as Vick shouted. They made room on one of the bedrolls as Carlton staggered in, half-carrying Dean. Blood covered both of them but it was Dean they laid down on the cot. Adam dropped to his knees next Dean, gauze and clean water in hand. Carlton waved off Juliet’s offer of help and stalked towards the back room – they’d found running water in the building and a tub. Shawn grabbed one of Carlton’s clean shirts and a towel as he followed.

“I’m not injured,” Carlton said as he pulled his shirt off. A flashlight was propped next to the mirror over the sink, giving them just enough light to see by.

Water splashed into the sink. Shawn watched as Carlton splashed water on his face, then down his arms. The water ran red.

“It’s not my blood.”

Shawn said nothing. He shifted closer and held out the towel. Carlton took it without looking. His dried skin was free of anything worse than a few dark bruises.

“I’m just a little bruised.”

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

Carlton looked over at him. A few drops of water dripped from his face. Shawn stepped forward, not really sure what he was going to do, but knowing he had to do something. He was just so relieved. The stubble on Carlton’s face pricked against Shawn’s palms. He leaned forward, stretching up just a little until his lips reached Carlton’s. A hand on his back steadied him. Carlton deepened the kiss and pushed down slightly until Shawn was flat on his feet again.

“I’m glad,” Shawn repeated quietly against Carlton’s lips.

*****

Shawn stretched slowly, waiting for the usual pain. His side was sore but he could move without any real pain. Lassiter watched carefully as Shawn moved his arm, testing the range of his mobility. A grin spread across Shawn’s face. “Looks like I’m back on patrol.”

Carlton snorted in muted laughter. “It’s not patrol, Shawn.”

He shrugged. “Still…”

Both of their gazes moved to the open doorway. They’d managed to find an old office building. Not the most comfortable of places to sleep, but at least there was a bit of privacy. Carlton moved before Shawn could, closing and locking the door before moving back towards Shawn, a smile growing on his face.

“Still, it’ll be good to have you back with me.”

“Yeah,” Shawn agreed.

He didn’t bother putting his shirt back on. Carlton’s arms went around Shawn. His hands splayed against Shawn’s back lightly. He leaned forward the same time Carlton did. Their lips met half-way, mouths opening, tongues dancing. Carlton stepped closer. One of his hands slipped down to Shawn’s knee, squeezing reassuringly as he gently pushed Shawn’s legs apart, giving him enough room to stand chest to chest.

“It’s good to have you back,” Shawn echoed. He leaned in for another kiss.

“Yeah.” Carlton pushed Shawn back onto the desk.

Shawn wondered what the former owner of this office would think at the two men currently peeling off each other’s clothing. Carlton climbed up onto the desk with Shawn, his weight pressing down and inside of him. Their bodies slid together with delicious frictions. Shawn’s hips lifted, rolled with each of Lassiter’s thrusts. His side twinged slightly in pain, proof that it wasn’t one-hundred percent healed but he ignored it and wrapped his arms tighter around Carlton.

Slowly, they both wound down. Shawn stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily while Carlton kissed every inch of skin he could reach. His hips stopped but they stayed connected.

It was a long time before either of them would let go.

*****

A smile stretched across Shawn’s face, and he stood up, one hand holding onto the side of the cart. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” Juliet stood beside him, “I think that is.”

There were people. Whatever small town they’d arrived at seemed to have survived the asteroids. Buildings were standing, undamaged from appearances, and teeming with people. They weren’t the only refugees who’d found their way here. A wooden palisade had been erected around the town but the doors stood open. As they approached, they could hear shouts. People poured like ants from the palisade.

“Welcome!” A woman shouted at them from the truck that rolled up to them. “Welcome to Whitehall.”

Vick’s whispered what they were all thinking. “We’re safe.”

Previous Chapter

It was like they’d started all over again. Any progress Iruka had made in the forest had been lost, wiped away by a single change in location. The jutsu he’d found only worked if there was something to use as a distraction, something living to manipulate or hide behind or masquerade as. Up here, on the bare rock above the former Hokages’ heads, it was just the two of them and bare rock. There were a few things he could have done with the dust – use it as a smoke screen, create doubles, form things to hide behind – but Kakashi wasn’t giving him time enough to even gather his chakra.

He missed the tress. At least wood had a little give, slight as it was. Rock was less forgiving.

Iruka’s back smacked into stone – that would bruise – and he rolled, moving out of the way of Kakashi’s next attack. More than their location seemed to have changed, though the change in Kakashi was less obvious. He probably wouldn’t have noticed anything was different weeks ago, before they’d started training together, but he’d gotten to know Kakashi. There was something different. He could feel it in Kakashi’s punches, saw it in the blank expression on Kakashi’s face. Kakashi was still cordial, still polite and friendly but it was somehow less than what they’d had.

Maybe Kakashi knew about Yukio. He wasn’t sure how Kakashi would have found out, or why Kakashi even cared unless he’d been talking to Genma and Anko too much. But, this was a village full of ninja. Privacy was only an illusion, only something one had when their friends – or enemies – had better things to do with their time than spy. Besides, if he knew, wouldn’t he say something? Maybe it wasn’t him. The life of a ninja – an active one, frequently sent out on missions – had its ups and downs. There were a number of other reasons why Kakashi would be acting differently.

That didn’t stop Iruka from feeling guilty.

He turned a fraction too slow as he dodged a punch. Kakashi’s foot caught him in the side, sending him tumbling across the ground once more. Rocks dug into his skin. He could still feel them, even after he’d finally come to a stop. It was hard to force himself to his feet again, to keep fighting. Iruka opened his eyes and watched Kakashi stepping forward, fist balled. Night had fallen unnoticed. He still had exams to grade.

“Stop,” Iruka said.

Kakashi did, his face blank.

Iruka groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. “Oh, that hurts.”

“Learn to dodge better and it won’t.”

Iruka cast a startled glance at the jounin. Kakashi had his mask up, hiding whatever expression had accompanied his words. He swallowed the retort that first came to mind. “Y-yeah,” he said instead, “yeah, I’m working on that.”

“Not hard enough.”

At first Iruka thought he’d imagined it. The words had been muttered, sounding almost disconnected from Kakashi’s mouth. He wasn’t being paranoid – Kakashi actually was mad at him for something. Kakashi’s body was tense, his arms crossed.

“Sorry.” It was the only thing he could think to say that wouldn’t lead to a full-blown argument.

“Don’t be,” Kakashi said, and for a brief second Iruka thought he was going to apologize. He was staring out over Konoha, barely keeping Iruka in the corner of his eye. “Just try harder. We’ve been at this for weeks already and you can barely land a punch. We’ve both got better things to do with our time, unless, of course, you enjoy people smacking you around.”

Heat rushed through Iruka’s body, pooling in his face and leaving the rest of his body chilled. Kakashi knew. He had to. “I…” What should he say? Was there even anything he could say in his own defense? He wasn’t ready to be dating again, not really, but he liked Yukio, he really did. He might even be in love with him, maybe.

Kakashi turned before Iruka could answer, leaving Iruka to stare at Kakashi’s back. “I’ll contact you about our next session by the end of the week.” He was gone in a puff of smoke.

Iruka didn’t move for several minutes, staring at the spot Kakashi had just vacated. He couldn’t bring himself to blame Kakashi for what he’d said. It was mean-spirited, spiteful, rude, but there was truth to it. He wasn’t trying, not as hard as he should be. While he didn’t think Yukio was going to turn out like the others, he’d said the same of all the others, so if he wanted this relationship to have a happy ending – or at least not a painful ending – he needed to learn to fight back.

Slowly, Iruka turned away from the mountain top and started down the path back to the village. He wanted his relationship with Yukio to work, he really did, and if he was going to make it work then he needed to put some real effort into getting better, outside of these meetings.

Iruka sighed. There were exams at home that needed marked and then he had rolls upon rolls of scrolls to master. He doubted he was going to get much sleep this week.

*****

Kakashi frowned behind his mask as an unfamiliar blonde sat next to him at the ramen stand, a wide smile on his angular face. He kept his eyes on his bowl and pretended not to notice the stranger.

“Good evening, Hatake-san.” The stranger’s voice sounded like oil, smooth and greasy. There was something about this man that Kakashi didn’t like.

“Do I know you?”

“No,” the man answered, “but we both know Iruka.”

Iruka. The way the man said the chuunin sensei’s name told Kakashi everything he needed to know. It also made Kakashi want to pull a kunai and plant it in the man’s throat. He didn’t, but he couldn’t stop his hand from clenching around his chopsticks. They’d work as a weapon well enough if he really needed.

“Ah. So you’re the man he’s seeing.”

The stranger’s smile widened. “Yes. Mishima Yukio.” He held out his hand. Kakashi didn’t take it. After a minute, Yukio let his hand drop.

Kakashi made a mental note to find out everything there was to know about this man. He had a few friends still in ANBU who owed him favors. Some of them might even do it for free if he explained the circumstances.

“I hear you’re teaching Iruka how to fight.”

“He already knows how to fight,” Kakashi answered automatically. It was true. Iruka knew a lot about fighting, more than some jounin. He had to in order to train the village youth. Knowledge wasn’t Iruka’s problem, it was action.

“Still, it’s awfully nice of you to help him. I’m sure he’s learning a lot from the infamous Hatake Kakashi.” Yukio leaned forward slightly. “A teacher’s defenses have to be sharp. After all, it’s a rather dangerous profession.”

Kakashi stiffened. “What do you mean?” He shifted the chopsticks in his hand to a better grip.

Yukio’s laugh sounded cold, hollow. “Have you ever been around small children when they’re just learning to throw shuriken or a kunai? That’s not a profession I envy.”

He relaxed the barest of fractions. “Is that all?”

Yukio’s smile never faltered. “What other danger could there be? He’s just a schoolteacher. An incredibly cute one, but schoolteacher nonetheless.” Yukio stood. “Well, I just wanted to say hello. I’ll give Iruka your regards when I see him later tonight.”

It took most of Kakashi’s self control to let Yukio walk away, when every nerve in his body was screaming to kill this man, kill him now. Aside from a vague sense of unease and more jealousy than he really wanted to admit to, he had no reason to suspect Yukio of anything. Maybe it was jealousy, though that was the first that Kakashi had admitted the emotion to himself.

He wanted Iruka, had wanted him since he’d sat behind Kakashi on the couch while Kakashi had been playing poker, maybe even before that. It was more than just jealousy. He knew they’d work well together. They already did work well together but he wanted more than that, he wanted closeness, contact. He wanted Iruka to want him.

If Yukio turned out like Makitomo, like all of Iruka’s other failed relationships, Kakashi knew he was going to blame himself. He could stop it now, before it got that far.

Kakashi stood, tossing a few coins on the table to cover his meal. He had a friend to see and then after that… after that, he needed to talk to Iruka.

*****

The knock on the door wasn’t unexpected, though the person that appeared on the other side of the door was.

Iruka stepped aside quickly and held the door open for his guest. “Kakashi. What…” Questions flew through his head. He wasn’t sure which he should ask first.

Kakashi waved a quick greeting as he stepped inside. “Hi.” He toed off his shoes and moved past Iruka, checking each of the rooms of Iruka’s apartment methodically, like he expected someone else to be here.

Yukio was supposed to be coming over tonight. Iruka wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Kakashi had found out, assuming that was who Kakashi was looking for.

He locked the door out of habit and followed Kakashi into the living room. Should he offer Kakashi something to eat? It was late, well past dinner time, so he doubted Kakashi was hungry, but he felt like he should offer something, just to be a good host.

Curiosity won over politeness. “Is something wrong?” Something was off with Kakashi. He seemed odder than usual which, given the jounin’s usual state, was saying something. He kept glancing around, shifting from foot to foot.

Kakashi’s eyes – both of them, Iruka only now realized that the Sharingan was uncovered – focused on Iruka as Kakashi pulled his mask down. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” He paused for a moment and shifted on his feet, one foot shuffling slightly towards Iruka. “But, I want you to stop seeing Yukio.”

Part of Iruka had been expecting this, or at least expecting some sort of confrontation, but he had to wonder how Kakashi knew Yukio’s name. Had Kakashi met Yukio, did he know him from missions, or had he just just seen Yukio and Iruka together? “Why?”

“I don’t like him.” Kakashi’s voice lacked emotion.

“Kakashi…” He knew he should defend Yukio but the words stuck in his throat. Yukio was perfect, almost everything Iruka liked in a guy. He’d learned long ago that perfect never was. Maki had been perfect, in the beginning. “Why?” He repeated.

Kakashi stepped towards him. Iruka reflexively started to back up, to give Kakashi space, but an arm around his waist stopped him. The arm pulled Iruka closer, into an unexpected kiss. Unexpected, but not unpleasant. His hand rose to press against Kakashi’s chest. For a second he was about to push Kakashi away but his hand wouldn’t move. Iruka’s eyes closed as Kakashi’s arm tightened around his waist.

He didn’t think he could move away. He didn’t want to move, but he knew he should. This was wrong. It felt too good to stop. Kakashi’s tongue worked its way past Iruka’s lips and moved slowly over Iruka’s own and against the roof of his mouth. At some point, Iruka’s arms had wound around Kakashi’s neck, leaving the barest fraction of space between their bodies. Neither of them made any move towards stopping.

Kakashi was the first to pull away, their lips parting hesitantly, leaving just enough room for each of them to gasp in a quick breath, lips brushing, before Kakashi’s mouth was back over his own. They moved. Kakashi led, shuffling Iruka backwards until his back hit the wall. The bedroom door stood tantalizingly open not far to Iruka’s left.

Kakashi’s hands shifted, moving down Iruka’s body, pressing against his clothing. They paused for a long moment to cover his ass. Fingers dug lightly into his flesh, squeezing, kneading, and then moving on. Knees pressed between Iruka’s legs. Kakashi’s hands lifted him as they slid down, pulling Iruka’s legs up around Kakashi’s waist. Something hard pressed against Iruka, between his hips.

Iruka groaned into Kakashi’s mouth as the jounin ground his hips against Iruka.

He needed to stop. Yukio… he was dating Yukio and this was bad, very bad but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. He should tell Kakashi to stop but instead he was rocking, shifting against the wall and into Kakashi’s hands, moving with the hard press of Kakashi’s hips. This wasn’t like him. He was faithful, almost to a fault, and while he had been accused of cheating by several of his previous boyfriends, this was the first time it was actually true. He felt horrible and wonderful all at the same time.

Kakashi stepped away from the wall, pulling Iruka with him. For a brief second Iruka was afraid Kakashi was going to drop him but the jounin barely strained under Iruka’s weight. They moved through Iruka’s apartment, going from the dimly lit living room to somewhere darker. The mattress dipped beneath them as Kakashi sat down, his arm back around Iruka’s waist to keep him from falling. Iruka reached forward first, peeling off Kakashi’s jacket and tossing it behind him.

They moved together, rolling to the side until Iruka was on his back, never breaking their kiss. Skin was slowly revealed to eager hands and explored by equally eager lips. Any remaining thoughts of Yukio were chased away by a talented tongue. This was wrong and right and every shade between, but Iruka couldn’t bring himself to care.

He liked Yukio, might have even loved him in time, but this was Kakashi. Kakashi, who brought him kiwi and taught him to be a better fighter and trained Iruka’s precious students and was a mentor to Naruto and played poker with Iruka’s friends. Kakashi, who might get mad but would never hurt him. Kakashi, who tasted like miso and ramen, and fit against Iruka like he belonged there.

Iruka broke the kiss with a touch of regret and sat up, pushing Kakashi down as he moved. He shifted to straddle Kakashi’s hips. His breath came erratically, escaping in loud pants as he reached into the drawer in his bed side table, moaning as Kakashi’s fingers traced over the curve of his ass, distracting him. He ripped the condom package open with his teeth. Kakashi watched, both eyes half-lidded and intent, fixated on Iruka as he rolled the rubber down over Kakashi’s thick erection. He squeezed a small measure of lube onto his fingers and left the tube uncapped on the table.

Kakashi held Iruka by the hips, steadying Iruka as he rose up onto his knees and slipped slick fingers inside of himself as quickly as he could. If he had more time, he would have been tempted to make more of a production of it – to tease Kakashi, to urge Kakashi’s finger in with his own, or to take Kakashi’s erection into his mouth. He didn’t have the patience for that now, but he was hoping he would later. He wanted there to be a later.

He wiped his fingers on the side of the bed sheet before grasping Kakashi’s biceps. A loud moan escaped his lips as he lowered himself onto Kakashi, shivering as Kakashi inched inside of him, stretching him, filling him. It felt so good. From the look on Kakashi’s face, the jounin felt the same. His eyes hungrily followed Iruka’s every move, as if the mere sight of him was an aphrodisiac.

Iruka paused once he was fully seated and watched Kakashi watch him. It was hard to stay still when all he wanted to do was feel Kakashi moving inside of him, and he could tell the lack of motion was testing Kakashi’s patience as well. Kakashi controlled himself well, at least at first. His hips stayed flat on the bed, his fingers tight on Iruka’s hips but not encouraging any movement. Seconds passed as he watched Kakashi’s patience slowly slip.

The patience broke.

Kakashi lifted him by the hips. Iruka moved with them, letting Kakashi control the movement. Kakashi’s hips slammed up as Kakashi pulled Iruka down, hard, forcing another obscene moan from Iruka’s lips. This was better than perfect, not gentle but certainly not unpleasant. Iruka tried to quicken the pace and suddenly they were fighting for control, fighting for the same end. Neither of them could move fast enough. Iruka barely lifted himself up on his knees before Kakashi pulled him down again.

It was everything he needed and not enough.

Apparently Kakashi felt the same. He grabbed Iruka by the arm and pulled, rolling them until Iruka was once more on his back. Kakashi leaned over him, staring for a second before closing the gap between them and locking his mouth onto Iruka’s. Arms moved under his knees. Iruka’s hips were lifted from the mattress as Kakashi sat up and leaned forward for another kiss. Kakashi thrust inside at a new angle and suddenly it was enough.

Iruka shouted into Kakashi’s mouth as he came, his body arching up against Kakashi’s. He was going to be feeling that for days, possibly longer since Kakashi showed no sign of slowing down. Kakashi leaned back, pushing Iruka’s legs up until they were hooked over Kakashi’s shoulder. Moans filled the room. Iruka was pleased to note he wasn’t the only one making noise, though he was certainly responsible for most of the volume. He twisted his fingers in the sheets and held tightly.

After what seemed like an eternity of sharp thrusts that sent jags of pleasure straight up his spine, Kakashi finally came. His eyes closed for a full minute. All sound fled the room save for Iruka’s ragged breathing.

His legs tingled as they were lowered back onto the mattress, a pleasant ache settling between his hips. They exchanged soft, slow kisses while they untangled their bodies. Kakashi pressed a kiss against the sides of Iruka’s mouth, kissing one side, then the other as he slid out of Iruka’s body. The condom was knotted and dropped into the trash can. Kakashi started to stand.

“Wait.” Iruka grabbed Kakashi’s arm before the jounin could move away. His earlier worries returned tenfold, only now he was afraid that Kakashi was disgusted at him or hated him or….

“I’m only going to get a washcloth.” Kakashi’s smile was all Iruka needed for reassurance.

He relaxed back onto his bed and matched Kakashi’s smile with a muted version of his own. He couldn’t bring himself to regret what they’d done, not when it felt like quite possibly the best thing that had ever happened to him. Instead, he wondered why they hadn’t done this sooner.

Tomorrow, he’d talk to Yukio. Tonight, he was with Kakashi.

*****

Iruka waited in the field outside of the Academy, his back against a tree as he watched a group of children – younger than what Iruka usually taught – playing soccer on the opposite side of the field. He was dreading the conversation he had to have with Yukio, but at the same time he was giddy as well. There were no words to describe how he felt about Kakashi, how good it felt to be with him.

A smile broke across Iruka’s face. Kakashi made him happy, happier than any of his previous relationships had ever made him. Instead of questioning when and how he should tell his friends, he wanted to tell Genma right away. They were having lunch together in a few hours. Iruka doubted that he’d be able to keep his mouth shut. Genma would know something had happened just from the way Iruka couldn’t stop smiling.

That was, of course, assuming he could make it through his conversation with Yukio without things turning ugly.

“Good morning, Iruka.”

Iruka jumped, his head snapping to the right. He hadn’t even noticed Yukio approach.

“H-hi.”

“Did I startle you?” Yukio smiled widely, his eyes twinkling with laughter.

“A little, yeah.”

“Did you miss me last night?”

Iruka’s smile died as he realized that he hadn’t even heard a knock last night, assuming Yukio had been there at all. Yukio wouldn’t have stood him up, it wasn’t like him. At the least, he would have shown up late or arranged for some way to get word to Iruka that he’d been detained.

Yukio knew.

“I’m sorry,” Iruka blurted.

Yukio’s hand landed on Iruka’s shoulder. His smile was still firmly in place, not even dimmed. “Don’t worry. This only makes things more interesting.”

Something in Yukio’s hand – held in his hand, Iruka belatedly realized, he could feel it pressing against his shoulder – popped, and a cloud of orange dust surrounded Iruka’s face. He started to cough. His lungs contracted but the air never left his lungs, frozen along with the rest of his body.

Iruka fell.

“Much more interesting,” Yukio said as Iruka passed out.

*****

Kakashi didn’t have to find the ANBU he’d asked to investigate Yukio, she was already waiting inside Kakashi’s apartment when he returned for a change of clothes. The red and white tiger’s mask was pulled off her face as soon as Kakashi shut the door. Arena spoke quickly.

“We couldn’t find anything on Yukio,” she said with a frown.

It took Kakashi a second to digest that statement. There couldn’t be nothing. Every person in the village had a file from the second they were born, even the most ordinary of citizens. There should have been a school record at the very least, or an address.

Kakashi’s fingers curled around the hilt of a kunai. “He’s not one of ours.” A dozen scenarios filtered through Kakashi’s head, some disregarded, others were possible but didn’t make sense with Iruka involved.

“Should I alert Tsunade?”

Kakashi nodded slowly. He didn’t yet know what Yukio was up to, but he would soon.

“And, find Iruka.”