Chapter Text
This was turning out to be the worse day ever, in Iruka’s estimation. He hated this day with a passion as it was. The only day of the year that could turn him into a true raving lunatic. Oh, he flew off the handle plenty, he knew that. He knew just how hot-tempered he was, how easily he rose to the bait.
But most of the time, he could temper it pretty well. Usually, he could contain his reactions to a few well-placed replies, the occasional shout, simply reject a few extra mission reports, or schedule a bit of extra gate duty. Any other time, except this time of year.
This time of year, the whole thing was built up over the course of nearly a month, so he couldn’t escape it. Most of the time, in point of fact every year except this one, he had a way to deal with it. But not this year, no. The fates had conspired to keep that from happening this year.
And this was on top of the fact that every mission report that got turned in seemed to be extra bad—covered in food stains, blood stains and other unrecognizable matter. They were crumpled into balls—that was Shikamaru’s team, folded into a football—Kiba’s team, or soaking wet—Kakashi’s report. Even Yamato, who usually turned in pristine reports was missing half of the information that was needed. He’d taken the sharpest edge of Iruka’s temper, being the unlucky person last in line to turn his in. The poor man had barely escaped the room with his life, looking pale and shaking visibly.
Iruka hated Valentine’s Day with a passion—the same passion he poured into his teaching, the same passion he had for so many other things. Because every year, invariably, he was alone for it. Oh, he’d dated over the years, here and there, but somehow it always seemed he’d ended up alone for the day itself and the weeks surrounding it.
Every year, he listened to the other teachers go on about who they’d go out with or who they’d invite. The shinobi rumor mill was rife with discussion over who’d show up at the Krooked Kunai with whom and if they’d really leave with them that night. Or whether or not so-and-so would stay together with such-and-such. The rumors were always there, but something about the approaching holiday made them much more prolific.
Then there was the academy. The constant love notes being passed by his students to the point that none of them would concentrate on a lesson. There were blushes and looks from the minute they walked in until they left again. The girls couldn’t talk about anything but which boy might give them a card or if they’d get any at all.
To make matters worse, where every other time of the year, Iruka was almost constantly hit on, it dried up like Suna in summer around this time. Not that he accepted most of the men hitting on him. He didn’t, knowing what they wanted, but at least they asked him out. Except around that day. So the only cards he ever got were covered in pre-genin handwriting and the scribbled signatures of former students. And it had soured his opinion of the holiday altogether.
Oh he had his suspicions on why it changed then. The rest of the year, he knew that most of the men who asked him out seemed to think they could take him out to dinner once, buy him a few drinks at the Kunai and he’d be willing to go home with them from there and fuck. And that time of year was supposed to be about the other side of dating—the one that was about much more than fucking for a night after drinks.
So several years ago, after the second year of dried up dates, he’d come up with a tactic for dealing with the ridiculous day. He spent extra money, reserving it way in advance, and took up a whole private room to himself at the hot springs. He splurged on over-priced food and spent the whole evening pampering himself away from all the other crap. It was the ability to look forward to that which helped him get through.
He’d escaped the academy that day and it’s ridiculous piles of pink and red with only a minimal amount of fuss from his students. He loved them, he really did, but this was one day he didn’t want them hanging on and talking to him.
Then he’d had his time on the mission desk and, well, he was just very glad the day was over. And then it happened.
Of course, after being told what he had just been told, he almost wished he was back there—the academy or even the mission desk. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Umino-san, but there is no record of your reservation.” The clerk frowned at the appointment book in front of her.
“There has to be a mistake. I’ve reserved the same room every year for the last several years. It’s paid for, in advance by me, the reservation made in advance by me with plenty of advance notice.” Iruka congratulated himself on the patience he was displaying and his calm tone of voice. He wanted to scream and shout.
“I understand that and I thought it seemed odd to not see your name, but I thought, perhaps, that you had a reason for not wanting a reservation this year.” She blushed at that and Iruka groaned quietly to himself. It was obvious they knew why he was there. By himself. Every year.
“Well, obviously I did want a reservation. I paid for it. It should be there. Check again. Room seven.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s another name there.”
Iruka closed his eyes, willing himself to keep his patience. He knew for a fact he’d made the reservation. Which meant it had been changed. “Who changed it?”
“I’m sorry?” The clerk looked up, puzzled.
“Someone must have changed the reservation. Who changed it? Was I, perhaps, moved to a different room?” He liked that particular room, liked the spring it was attached to, the fact that it was as far away from everyone as he could get. But he could deal with a different room, as long as he got one.
“As far as I know, no one has access to this book except for me and my husband. He would not have changed it for any reason that I know of. And I’m afraid I don’t see your name anywhere else.” She looked genuinely upset.
Iruka rubbed at the scar over his nose, a sure sign that he was about to let out his ire. She probably was afraid. He knew his temper at this time of year was legendary. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Then you’ll have to just put me somewhere.”
She swallowed hard and her color drained a little more. The poor woman looked damned near dead. “I… um…” she stuttered.
He raised an eyebrow. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to say.
“Um, we, um, I’m mean… that is… “ her mouth opened and closed a few more times. “What I’m trying to say is…” Her mouth flapped a couple more times with no more sound coming out, then her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell over.
This could not be happening to him. He put his head down onto the counter and banged it once, before sighing. He went around and squatted over the unconscious clerk. He tapped her face gently, then shook her shoulder. She finally opened her eyes, widening them when she looked up at him. He held a hand out in entreaty. “I’m not going to yell,” he started calmly. “I’m guessing you were going to tell me that you have no private rooms available.”
She shook her head hard to clear it and sat up, then nodded unhappily. “My apologies, Umino-san. I really do not know how we can make this up to you. We will be very glad to give you a free room for two nights any other time.”
He held his hand out and helped her to her feet, then waved at her. “It’s okay.” He sighed and rubbed at his scar again.
“Mah, is something the matter, Iruka-san?”
Oh gods, not him. Iruka could probably put up with just about anyone but him in that moment. He counted slowly to ten, but the vein in his temple was still throbbing in anticipation of the annoyance he knew he was about to feel. “No, of course not, Kakashi-san, why do you ask?”
“Because you look as if you are about to rub your poor nose right off of your face.”
Iruka turned to see the single visible eye curved in amusement. He swallowed hard and tamped down on his burgeoning temper. He reached up and rubbed gently at his temple again, a small headache starting to grow. “I’m fine, Kakashi-san.” He turned to the clerk. “I’ll take a regular basket, thank you, and we can work out my alternative reservation at another time.” He mentally patted himself on the back for his calm tone of voice.
“Did something happen to your reservation, Iruka-san?” Kakashi asked and Iruka forced himself to turn from the clerk.
“Yes. I had one, it’s no longer here. I’ll be taking time in the public spring, instead. Good evening, Kakashi-san.” Iruka picked up the basket, nodded to the clerk and turned toward the showers and dressing rooms.
“Good evening, Hatake-san. Here is your key. Room seven. I hope you enjoy your stay with us.” The clerk’s relieved voice floated to him.
Iruka had taken only a few steps when he heard that, and stopped. He’d taken room seven? How… but no, no, it didn’t matter. He could still salvage some relaxation, even if it was the public spring. He took a deep breath, slowly in and out, then another. Calmer, he continued down the hallway.
“Iruka-san?”
Why did he follow him? The private baths were on the other end of the building. He turned slowly around. “Yes, Kakashi-san?”
“You know, I am the only one in the room. It would be a shame for you to be forced to go to the large spring when you should have had a private room. Why not share mine?”
Oh, that was likely to be relaxing. Sure. The man had a sixth sense for how to annoy him. He knew exactly which buttons to push to send him into a temper, like it was some sort of instinct with him. It only served to annoy Iruka further that he was attracted to the ass. Very attracted. To both the literal and figurative versions.
“Really, I wouldn’t want to impose, Kakashi-san. The public spring is fine.” He started to turn around.
“Well, if you’re afraid to be alone with me.”
Damn the man. He knew what would piss him off the most. He grit his teeth, counting, again, though he got all the way to fifteen without feeling a difference. He gave up and turned back. “Why would I be afraid to be alone with you? I said I didn’t want to impose and that’s what I meant. Good evening, Hatake-san,” he said, biting off the family name and spinning around to continue his way.
“Because you’re attracted to me.”
“You son of… you… you… bastard!” Iruka sputtered and spun back around, momentarily at a loss for words. “That’s some nerve! I wouldn’t be attracted to you if you were the last person on earth, man or woman! You are a cocky, lazy, aloof, insensitive, perverted asshole!” He spun back around and marched toward the showers, fueled by the grin he could tell was lurking under that ridiculous cloth mask.
“Did I hit a nerve, Iruka-san?”
Iruka didn’t answer. Instead, he launched a shuriken in the direction of the voice, knowing it would be dodged. The thunk as it embedded itself into the wooden wall was loud, and it left a deep gash alongside several others that the ninja who frequented the hot spring had obviously made before him.
“Hmm. I must have,” Kakashi mused. “Am I really that detestable that you’d prefer to bathe with several strange men than me?”
“Yes,” Iruka said, stripping his vest off and folding it with precise movements, holding onto his temper carefully. His temple pulsed again.
Kakashi’s lips twitched in response. “I see. Is it because you can’t stand being attracted to me? Or is it just that you can’t trust yourself to be left alone with my naked body? Are you afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep from attacking me?”
Because that’s exactly what he was afraid of, he pulled a kunai this time and launched it instead. Kakashi caught this one, then threaded his forefinger through the hole at the end and started spinning it around his finger. He let a chuckle escape, earning another shuriken for it which he, of course, dodged again.
Iruka concentrated on removing the bandages from the bottom of his legs, trying to ignore the annoying man next to him. He wrapped them into a ball and laid them on top of his vest, pulled his headband off, then removed the shuriken holder, keeping it within reach.
“You really don’t need weaponry to deal with me, Iruka-san,” Kakashi said, stepping closer.
Iruka glared up at him. “Obviously I do, since your perverted brain can’t seem to take a hint. Get lost.”
Infuriatingly, he just laughed, taking another half step closer to Iruka.
Iruka turned his back on Kakashi and stripped his shirt off, trying to pretend the Kakashi wasn’t hovering so damned close by. He folded it, stacked it with his other clothes, then stopped. He really didn’t want to finish undressing in front of this man. Especially since he was partially aroused simply from his proximity to Kakashi and he didn’t want to give the pervert any ideas. Or, at least, give away his feelings at all.
He turned around and glared at him. “Did you really want something? Or were you just here to annoy me?”
“I was trying to share my spring with you. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s rather busy out there.” Kakashi pointed through the doorway, where Iruka could clearly see that the public spring was, in fact, rather crowded.
Iruka clenched his jaw, the muscles twitching as he could see just how accurate the assessment was. He took a deep breath, then two. It was, in fact, quite a bit busier than he’d anticipated. He glared up at the other man. “If I share your spring, will you leave me alone?”
Kakashi affected a hurt look. “Of course I will.”
Iruka snorted. “Right.” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll take my chances.” He turned around and, gritting his teeth, unbuttoned his pants, then pushed them and his underwear over his hips. He snatched up a towel, wrapping it around himself quickly, hoping against hope that Kakashi hadn’t seen his erection, which was only getting worse by the moment. How could he possibly get this aroused while he was so angry with the man?
He tucked the end of the towel in, then stacked his clothing carefully in the basket before putting it on the shelf. He grabbed the smaller towel for his head, yanked the hair tie out of his hair and headed into the showers, all the time trying to ignore Kakashi, who’d been watching the whole thing in silence.
Irritated, again, he stopped and glanced over. Kakashi was leaning casually against the set of shelves, but the look in his eye was not casual. It was… appraising and Iruka blushed hotly at it, the color spreading quickly from the scar over his nose outward. He’d always been self-conscious about his scars, especially the large one on his back, but he’d never been looked at quite that way before.
He blinked up at Kakashi. “Did…” he cleared his throat. “Did you need something?”
“Oh yes,” Kakashi said softly and the tone of voice went straight to Iruka’s cock.
He swallowed hard and raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Oh? What’s that?”
Kakashi’s eyes moved from what Iruka could have sworn was his ass back up to his face. “There really isn’t a reason to stay out here, you know.” He stood up from the shelves and took a half step closer.
“I can think of a few,” Iruka managed. “Including the fact that you seem to have a sixth sense for how to annoy me.”
Kakashi chuckled. “What if I promise to try not to?’
Iruka blinked. Why was he trying so hard to get him in there? He swallowed, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat. It couldn’t be that Kakashi was actually interested in him. No, he didn’t think that was it. So… No, no, he wasn’t thinking about it. Wasn’t! Absolutely not! He swallowed again. “Okay.”
He knew, the second he saw the reaction in the visible eye that he was going to regret this. Probably for a very, very long time.