Chapter Text
Living with Iruka is… a dream.
Tenzou finds that he is a complete human being now that he is, so to speak, a resident of Umino Iruka’s apartment. With about five months left before he moves to the suburbs where the Firefighting Academy is at, a good hour’s drive and an hour and a half by train from the city, getting to spend time with Iruka like this is quite possibly, the happiest moments of Tenzou’s very dull life.
They see each other every morning for breakfast, waking up in each other’s arms, kissing each other awake, tangled in the sheets that may or may not lead to some playful frothing, or really, Tenzou just nudging himself back into Iruka’s still slick from last night’s ride ass. Sometimes they’d just spend a good half an hour kissing, losing themselves in each other, tracing the lines of each other’s bodies with their palms, committing the sharp lines, the old scars and every breath, every shudder and hitching noise in Iruka’s throat to memory.
They have breakfast together, coffee and toast, before they walk to the train station and part on separate platforms, always hand in hand, fingers laced together, Iruka in his smart casual and Tenzou in his joggers, sneakers and hoodie.
And although their schedules still remain busy, their days start with each other and ends with each other.
There are times where Tenzou returns from work with some of Iruka’s favorite stuffed mushrooms in hand, to find him still grading at his desk, or cutting out award ribbons, or pasting stickers on award certificates for his class. There are times when Tenzou just passes out on the bed from exhaustion, barely even saying a word to Iruka, but always adjusting himself on the bed later when Iruka joins and wraps his warm arms around Tenzou’s body, spooning against Tenzou’s back and tangling their legs under the covers.
Those are the best, Tenzou finds, waking up to find Iruka cozied up against his back, warm and fast asleep.
Wednesdays, however, is a ritual.
They plan their Wednesdays, looking for free things to explore and try in the city. Sometimes it’s an art gallery, sometimes it’s a show, or a gallery opening, or a free concert. Sometimes it is just dinner, somewhere nice, somewhere cozy, the both of them exploring their taste buds, trying new flavors. Tenzou still feels his tongue tingle every time he remembers the Earth spicy vegetarian curries; Iruka had spent the good part of the evening laughing at Tenzou trying to dry his tears and reign the sniffles in, his face as red as the pickled beets they’ve been served on the side.
Wednesdays is also the nights where they take it slow, where they explore each other’s bodies in a lazy rhythm, where Iruka would take his time, enjoy his time licking and suckling at Tenzou’s cock, as he stands there leaning his back against the cold window of Iruka’s apartment, Iruka kneeling between his legs, worshipping the throb of his cock with his tongue.
Tenzou is a fan of Wedesndays because it’s the night where he gets to stare up at Iruka while Iruka rides him, chin tipped to the ceiling, hands hanging limply on his sides, hips rolling with each thrust as Tenzou holds on to his hips, watching Iruka whisper the syllables of his name to the ceiling, like it’s a prayer, something divine, soft and breathless, until he comes gasping at the ceiling, his hair fanned out on his shoulders and down the length of his back, his lean, slender body arching, shoulders rolling backwards, as Iruka’s palm would grip at Tenzou’s spread knees, as he comes and comes and comes, looking down at Tenzou with parted, ruddy, kissed-bruised lips. Something that always seem to set off some sort of trigger in Tenzou’s chest, making him surge up and forward, gripping Iruka by the neck and yanking him forward, searing their mouths in a hot, hungry, desperate kiss that almost always, always, has Iruka coming undone once more, prolonging his orgasm until Iruka is just a shuddering mess in Tenzou’s arms, his breath being taken away as Tenzou’s own.
Sometimes they fuck with Iruka facing the window, bent over, holding on for dear heavens, his knuckles bone white as they grip the edges of the window sill, hair swinging from how his head hangs heavy, as Tenzou pounds into his body, thrust after thrust, each salacious, slick thrust of his cock tearing a cry past Iruka’s throat. Sometimes Tenzou fucks him fast, and Iruka can only keen as he rides out the brutal face, one hand pinned behind his lower back, his knees turned inwards, weak, and only being held up by the sheer force and strength of Tenzou’s hands on his hips; a grip that would bruise for days. Iruka would come like that, his cock swinging and bobbing, spilling cum on their clean floor. He would press his hands against the glass, his breath misting as he loses himself to the view of the city beyond, as Tenzou continues to fuck him until Tenzou comes too, his thick cock filling Iruka’s ass with cum that always, always, leaves Iruka humming with a lopsided, heady smile.
And sometimes, they just make love in bed. Sometimes, it is Tenzou who spreads his legs for Iruka, who rides out the length of Iruka’s cock. Sometimes it is Tenzou who grits and hisses through his teeth as he comes, his ass split open by the girth of Iruka’s cock, filling him to the brim with cum that Iruka, almost always would push Tenzou’s knees to his shoulders, just so that he can cheekily dip down and clean up the cum dump of an ass Tenzou has become.
When Iruka does that, he always licks his lips like he’s got the best deal of them all, smirking vaingloriously at Tenzou who by then, is hard again, already grabbing Iruka to pull him down, to kiss that pertinent, dirty little mouth that teaches small children, tasting Iruka on the tiers of his own lips.
Sometimes, Wednesday nights means ordering pizza, fried chicken and beer. Or Styrofoam bowls of piping hot, broth rich ramen. Or just steamed rice, vegetables and crispy orange chicken (Tenzou) or honey-ginger beef (Iruka). Sometimes, Wednesday nights is a television show marathon after cozying up in comfortable sweat pants, where they watch episode after episode of popular crime and spy thrillers, horror, and family-courtroom drama. Sometimes they watch animated films that leave Iruka crying because they are meant for adults and not quite for children, despite being marketed for children. Tenzou gets emotional on those too, but doesn’t quite end up brushing his eyes from the tears that collect around the corners. Not like Iruka anyway.
Iruka is such a joy to be around that as the time they spend together being so domestically, blissfully happy comes to an end, with summer’s scorching heat already starting to cool down with fall just around the corner, Tenzou finds himself wondering just how on earth is he even going to go back to living alone now.
Iruka has spoiled him rotten with his presence.
Tenzou finds himself imagining waking up alone.
And it… doesn’t quite feel nice.
*
So not nice in fact that he burns an entire tray of buns.
His manager gives him a bit of a side eye when Tenzou ends up fanning the oven with his oven mittens, trying to ward off the smoke as he stares, with the most put upon expression on his face, rubbing the back of his head as the mounds of charcoal once-upon-time-butter-burger-buns stares back at him from the tray, a little forlorn.
What a waste.
*
Tenzou burns his second tray the next day, and this is where his manager crosses her arms under her bosoms and really, really stare.
Aoba decides to un-shut his mouth then, pausing mid-stir in his magic sauce batch mix. “Did Iruka dump you?”
Tenzou almost – almost - picks up a hard as a rock burnt bun to lob it against Aoba’s stupid head. Because that question is the very question he’s been trying to ignore by not addressing the proverbial elephant in his mental room.
Long distance relationships are already a challenge. They have an 58% success rate, according to research, which, much to Tenzou’s dismay, isn’t exactly very high. While he and Iruka are going to be an hour and a half train ride away from each other, the days apart, gradually will add up and cause (and this is Tenzou’s biggest fear), tension. He’s seen his fellow soldiers’ marriage fail because they’ve been deployed for too long, serving too long, have been on the job for too long, away from home too long. He’s seen and heard homes come apart because of distance.
And while his course won’t last more than two years given his qualifications already (Tenzou chose this specific program just so that it’d give him the option to go into Paramedic services if he chooses to with minimal study time), two years is still two years. Especially since Tenzou won’t have any downtime or summer offs. Not when he’s taking a lot of subjects to cover ground as quick as he can.
Tenzou gives Aoba a frown, emptying the tray of burnt buns into the trash.
“No, he didn’t dump me.” Tenzou drops the empty tray on the counter, pulling off the oven mittens.
“What, he didn’t suck your dick off this morning then?” Aoba
“Hey.” Tenzou looks up at that, giving Aoba a bit of a warning stare. Something that Aoba holds his hands up to and shrugs.
“I’m just saying – you’ve been in a mood,” Aoba points out, eyeing Tenzou up and down.
“He’s right, you know,” the boss says, leaning her hip against the counter. “Now I’m not one to be nosy but your buns aren’t as fluffy. I feel you’ve been over kneading the dough. Are you taking out your stress on my burger buns, boy?”
Tenzou has the grace to flush, his eyes quickly darting to the rack in the corner, all lined neatly with freshly baked burger buns. They do look a little bit sunken in the middle Huh. Maybe he has been over kneading them a bit.
“N-No?” Tenzou offers, unsure.
“You’re a big liar in that big boy built of yours; please don’t fuck up my buns. Do you need a day off or something to—“ the manager gesticulates with her hands, her face twisting, eyes widening, in a show of i-don’t-even-know-what-you-do look. “—whatever with your Iruka?”
“Wait – you’re giving him leave?” Aoba gasps, jaw dropping open.
“He’s burnt two trays. Who knows how many more he’ll burn? Do you need time off or not, boy?” The manager grumps.
“I’ll be fine, boss. Last tray, I promise,” Tenzou sighs, bowing his head apologetically.
“We’ll see.” The boss turns, waving her hand in the air. “Burn another tray and you’re on forced unpaid leave for a day. Don’t make me do it.”
“Yes boss…” Tenzou murmurs, turning back to the mixer to scoop out the dough he will need to remember not to over knead.
*
At lunch break, Tenzou is sitting in the cool alleyway, sipping his tea and tucking into his bento box. A lovingly arranged bento box. Complete with octopus sausages, steamed rice with spinach gomaae on top, ripe cherry tomatoes, and freshly made egg rolls. It’s such a lovely lunch box, all perfectly arranged, tucked and negotiated in such a way that it’d be instagrammable. Iruka had gone as far as to carving little smiley faces into the sausages, something that Tenzou stares at for a long while before he takes a bite off it, his chest warm with affection, lips curving to a bit of a quiet smile.
Ever since he’s moved in with Iruka, Iruka has seen to it that he always goes to work with a generous, nutritious bento. So you can be strong through out the day, Iruka says, tongue against his cheek while he forms panda, cat, rabbit or dog shaped onigiri with his hands. Or how he lays out strips of seaweed on the rice, making it look like there’s a sleeping bear under a blanket of egg when that one time, Iruka had packed him omurice. Iruka also always puts a sweat treat with Tenzou’s bento. Sometimes it’s a flavored kitkat (matcha, café au lait, rock salt or yuzu – those are the only flavors of kitkat Tenzou enjoys besides the classic. The rest are a little too noxiously sweet for him). Sometimes they’re pretzels, or a slice of orange flavored tea cake that apparently, had been Iruka’s mom’s recipe.
Tenzou always had something extra to have with short ten minute in the evening.
Iruka makes the best bentos.
The tastiest bentos.
Staring at his lovely bento once more, Tenzou forlornly picks up a cherry tomato and sighs sadly.
He is going to miss this too.
Store bough bentos just don’t cut it.
*
Somewhere in the middle of fucking Iruka sometime that week, the thought comes to Tenzou’s mind.
Maybe he should just dump Iruka.
That makes his hips stop mid-thrust, as he stares down at the length of Iruka’s wanton body, at how Iruka is trying to catch his breath, his arms above his head, legs spread obscenely wide, knees almost pressed to the sheets by his chest.
Dump him and just move on.
Move on and not have this.
Almost immediately, the thought brings with it a swell of anger, unbidden and raw, something that makes Tenzou grab Iruka off the bed, manhandling him up and over his cock, slamming him down against his throbbing length, burying his face against Iruka’s neck as Iruka all but hangs there, powerless, succumbing to this sudden insurgence of something primal. Tenzou fucks him like he’s marking Iruka, like he’s claiming him, taking everything that’s on the inside and drawing it out with each salacious squelch of his cock into Iruka’s ass. Iruka cries out at the ceiling, shaking with pleasure, unable to quite form Tenzou’s name anymore because Tenzou is taking everything from him, all that he has to offer, all that he has to give.
How can he even think of dumping Iruka like this?
How?
*
The weeks turns to days and soon, Tenzou finds himself just a week away from leaving for campus. Iruka has already made a list of things he shouldn’t forget to take with him, everything itemized by category on a little notepad paper attached to the fridge with a ramen bowl magnet.
Every time Tenzou stares at it, the more his heart sinks lower with the impending doom ahead.
Statistics always won over people’s intentions.
Tenzou is a soldier through and through. He trusts statistics.
*
Tenzou officially becomes severely distracted when he finds himself slamming face first into the kitchen cupboard, something that he had left open and had forgotten to close, a muffled ‘ow’ leaving his mouth as he cradles his face and all but slams the cupboard shut in a fit of expressive irritation.
It’s a miracle he didn’t manage to break his own nose.
Tenzou had been in the middle of preparing their evening tea, Iruka still in the shower after their dinner when his phone starts to ring with an unknown number on the front. Tenzou lets it ring for a few times, thinking it maybe those automated call-ads. The call eventually disconnects but starts ringing again from the same number.
Frowning, Tenzou gives his nose one last gentle pat before he picks up his phone to answer, “Hello?”
“Yo!”
Tenzou would recognize that voice anywhere. He takes a look at the number on the screen before he brings the phone back to his ear.
“Did you change your number, senpai?”
“Ah about that, yeah I had to. Let’s just say I had a not so pleasant run in with a fly that won’t go away,” Kakashi says, sounding a little sheepish. “Figured I’d give you a heads-up. When are you getting here?”
“Sunday,” Tenzou answers, moving towards the window, leaning his forearm on the glass and touching his foread on the cool surface.
“I didn’t think you’d want to miss orientation,” Kakashi deadpans.
“I’m not, I just – I mean I’ll make it in time for orientation in the afternoon,” Tenzou answers, staring at someone arguing with a taxi driver on the street below. He and Iruka had discussed this. Iruka was going to make a trip out of the whole thing, going with Tenzou, dropping him off, getting shown around campus, maybe before he heads back on the last train home.
“Well, I’m in town. Wanna go for a drink?”
Tenzou opens his mouth to respond, just as Iruka steps out of the bathroom, looking cute and beautiful as ever, patting his hair dry. Iruka will be running the massager through his scalp for a few minutes, before he would pat the ends of his hair with his favorite orange and cinnamon hair oil. Tenzou finds himself wondering, as he watches Iruka hum and pull the towel off by the chest drawer, slipping into a pair of thin faded flannel cotton pants, how long before he loses all this? How long before Iruka realizes what a colossal waste of time it is to be with him?
“Sure,” Tenzou says, swallowing, his throat painfully tight. “Text me the address and I’ll meet you there.”
Tenzou is already hanging up when Iruka looks up at him from the other side of the room, blinking in puzzlement.
“Going out so late?” Iruka asks, but not unkindly.
“An old friend from the army is in town. It’s just for a beer,” Tenzou explains, moving towards his side of the chest drawer and pulling out a clean t-shirt.
“Oh, well, all right. Enjoy your time with your friend,” Iruka says, leaning forward to press a kiss to Tenzou’s chin. “I’ll probably be in bed by the time you get back.”
Tenzou swallows past the tightness in his throat, reaching over to cup Iruka’s face, looking at the lovely, breathtaking face and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t wait up for me.”
*
“Well you look like utter shit,” Kakashi mutters, waving at the bartender after he spares Tenzou a single up and down glance. “You sure you want beer?”
Tenzou looks at the beer Kakashi is drinking before he turns to the bartender, “Whiskey, on the rocks.”
Kakashi pointedly keeps his gaze on his beer, one eyebrow quirking up slowly, something Tenzou pointedly ignores as he lowers himself down on a barstool, sighing deeply. When his drink comes, he tosses it back like a shot.
“If I had known you’d be crappy company, I wouldn’t have called you,”
“I paid for a taxi to get here. The least you could do is be excited about my company,” Tenzou retorts back.
“Still on minimum wage?” Kakashi huffs in amusement. “I mean, I did tell you that I can hook you up. Get you the odd contract here and there. It’s a lot better in terms of cash compares to minimum wage. What is it you do again? Peel potatoes?”
“Knead dough, make coleslaw and sometimes, assembles burgers,” Tenzou corrects, giving Kakashi a bit of a side eye.
“Ah, my mistake. Though I can’t see the difference,” Kakashi admits.
“I could have taken the odd contract, like you said. An extraction here, an escort there, drop offs – hardly nothing we haven’t done before. But…” Tenzou stares at his empty glass before he waves at the bartender and signals for another one. “I don’t want to do that anymore…”
“What changed your mind?” Kakashi prompts.
Tenzou chin suddenly tingles, from where Iruka had kissed him. He stares at his slightly swollen hands from the amount of kneading he had done that day, how his knuckles are a lot more prominent now. He thinks of his boss, who is a hard headed tough cookie, but also the most understanding and accommodating employer, who had a good hold on her business. Had she been in the military, Tenzou thinks she’d make a fantastic captain. He thinks of Aoba, and the new part time waiters and waitresses in Mo’s Burgers, how even though the hours are long, they still manage a laugh here and a joke there. He thinks of how he watches these part timing students teach their manager Tiktok, how they are still trying to convince Tenzou to be a model for their new “animal burger” which Aoba had come up with and wouldn’t shut up about the moment he had seen Tenzou change and shower in his apartment all those months ago.
Aoba is still trying.
The manager is trying.
Tenzou is honestly thinking of letting them do their TikTok and Instagram story shoot on his last day just to get it over and done with. Aoba already even got him the navy blue sweatpants and yellow baseball cap to match Mo’s Burgers color motif.
It’s a silly, small, but fun family.
It’s not at all that different from the army.
It’s just less explosives, less grime, no deaths, no blood, no screams, no terror, no snapping of necks of a salvo of bullets being fired.
Tenzou likes his new life.
He is happy like this, making minimum wage.
But working at Mo’s Burgers was never a sustainable thing.
What if I just stay here and work at Mo’s Burgers? I wouldn’t have to leave you, Tenzou had once said, right into Iruka’s sleepy face, in the middle of the night, months ago.
You shouldn’t put your future on hold just because you’re not ready to step out of your comfort zone; how else would you grow, Iruka had murmured.
And that had stuck with him.
It Is the only reason Tenzou is even doing all this because between him and Iruka, Iruka is the one who is the most excited for him and his new future as a fireman.
“A lot of things,” Tenzou vaguely responds.
Kakashi snorts, picking up his beer. “Okay. Bullshit, but okay.”
They drink in companiable silence for a while before Kakashi turns and presses a hand on Tenzou’s knee, just like he always would, all those years ago. And it’s just like yesterday, when they’d be in the middle a desert storm, tucked into their respective tents, when Kakashi, Tenzou’s first friend and most trusted comrade in the military would press his hands on Tenzou’s knee, or his elbow, just a mild, yet firm touch.
And then they’d be all over each other, teeth clacking, lips trying to devour each other, fingers stroking each other, balls rubbing as camo printed uniforms gets crumpled in the heated moment, dishevelled sometimes tearing at the seams if they’re a little desperate.
Sometimes it’s in a cave, under the cover of darkness, when Tenzou would climb over Kakashi’s lap, gripping rough walls and riding his cock.
Sometimes it’s against tree, their guns, and field packs against the tree, with Kakashi leaning against the trunk of the tree, shaking on one leg, one knee up and suspended as Tenzou pummels his cock into his ass.
They fuck.
Everyone knows they fuck.
But that’s just it.
They just fuck and work and trust each other, no questions asked.
There had been a time where the brush of Kakashi’s hands would be welcomed. Where it’d be warm and make the heat and carnal desire borne of being away from civilisation for too long come rising to the surface like the high tide.
There had been a time where Tenzou would actually want Kakashi’s mouth around his cock, to fuck his face, grab those short, uneven coarse silver hair and make Kakashi choke on cock, just the way Kakashi enjoys it.
Except now…
Now it makes the goosebumps break all over Tenzou’s skin. Now it makes his blood run cold, as his heart races under his ribs, his throat going dry, because now, it’s wrong.
It’s just wrong.
Tenzou grabs Kakashi’s hand, his grip a vice around Kakashi’s pale wrist. “I don’t do that anymore, either…”
“Oh~?” Kakashi questions, now really, really interested.
“I’m serious, senpai, I—“ Tenzou pauses, and releases Kakashi’s retracting hand.
“You found someone, didn’t you?” Kakashi waggles his eyebrow. “Kouhai, is that why you looked so stressed? Don’t tell me you have a wife and kid somewhere. I only didn’t see you for a year.”
“I don’t,” Tenzou retorts a little hotly, flushing to the roots of his hair. “I don’t have a wife and kid but there is someone. And – and well—“
Tenzou doesn’t know how to articulate his situation well enough, so he gives up, turning to look at his whiskey glass.
Kakashi gives him a long, quiet and measuring look, before huffs in amusement and claps Tenzou on the shoulder. Instead, he asks, “I’m gonna order some chicken wings. Want some?”
Tenzou doesn’t see the harm in it, so he shrugs. “Sure…”
*
Tenzou is a mess.
He’s slouched over the bar counter top, slurring for the hundredth time how he and this unicorn of a person named Iruka is just not going to work out. It had been funny the first two times Tenzou had gone on and on about it. Now Kakashi is just
Here is what he knows so far:
They’ve been dating officially as boyfriends for nine months, have been friends for longer and that Tenzou is having absolute domestic bliss living with this magic unicorn of a kindergarten teacher. That Iruka is beautiful and shines gold in the sun while he sparkles under the moon. That Iruka smells nice and wonderful, and has the softest, most beautiful hair. Iruka also apparently can suck cock better than Kakashi. Which to be fair, Kakashi won’t take seriously because Tenzou is drunk. So he ignores that bit.
Iruka is also a fantastic lay, which as per Tenzou, can do more with his body that Kakashi ever can. Again, Kakashi thinks this isn’t something to put much weight on when one is absolutely on their way to be black out drunk. So he ignores that part too.
Iruka is a good cook and makes him cute bentos every freaking day. To go to work. Bentos that Tenzou has pictures off. The kind that Kakashi sees on Instagram and Facebook when he’s surfing on his phone while on the train. Bentos that look, without a shred of doubt, really, really good that Kakashi is almost, just a tinsy-weensy bit jealous. He too, would like to receive home cooked meals that are artfully arranged. He too would like to feast on spinach gomae, oyakudon and kakaitamajiru. He too would also like to wake up and have coffee ready. It’s really annoying to wake up and have to wait those ten minutes for the coffee to fill the carafe, you know?
Iruka is funny, intelligent, hard working and absolutely delight to be around with. He is loving, caring and compassionate to those around him.
Not a single bad thing leaves Tenzou’s mouth about this Umino Iruka.
So much so that Kakashi is starting to wonder if this is an imagined person.
Kakashi knows.
He’s been in the black ops for too long. He knows the dark side of humanity.
No one is that good.
It’s just impossible.
So when Tenzou restarts his drunken charade again, Kakashi picks up a piece of garlic bread and shoves it into his kouhai’s mouth, successfully shutting up.
“You know what, I don’t believe you. He’s not real. You’re making all this up, you’re probably fantasizing about one of your tv-drama characters,” Kakashi says, punctuating that statement with an eyeroll.
“He’s real! Iruka is the most—“
“—loving, caring and compassionately beautiful human being in the world. I know. You’ve only repeated yourself twenty times,” Kakashi sighs.
“He’s real!” Tenzou insists, pouting.
Which makes Kakashi laugh. He’s never seen Tenzou pout. “Are you pouting?”
“Senpai is always making fun of me!” Tenzou drunkenly whines, burying his face in his arms on the bar countertop. “You weren’t even listening! I don’t want to lose him but this long distance thing isn’t going to work. You know it! You don’t even care! You’re a horrible senpai! Fuck you!”
Kakashi tries – really tries -- to not roll his eyes. Except he does, staring at the ceiling, counting one to ten very slowly before he rubs his head. “I don’t get you, you know? If you care about this guy this much, why are you worried? It’ll work.”
“No it won’t,” Tenzou mutters.
“Dump his ass then,” Kakashi shrugs, suggesting the most logical solution to all this whining nonsense. “I can’t believe I’m telling you that. But you know how it is.”
“I thought about that… but I don’t want to…” Tenzou actually sniffs.
Is he crying?
Oh god, is he actually crying?
Kakashi grabs Tenzou by the hair, pulling him off and up the counter to look at his face. Sure enough, the most pathetic looking, kicked small furry animal expression stares back Kakashi. Tenzou looks ridiculous, his lips upturned, his eyes just a bit watery from all the whiskey he’s been drinking, and those two fruity cocktails. With the umbrella. Tenzou insisted on the fucking umbrella.
This is stupid.
Why did he bother calling Tenzou again?
Oh right, he wanted a good fuck.
“You wanna practice dumping him on the phone to just see how it goes?” Kakashi offers. “I’ll pretend to be him.” Tenzou looks off to the side in thought before he nods pathetically. “Okay? Okay… here, pretend to call me on your phone and we can rehearse this. Maybe after you list all the things you hate about him, you can stop feeling like an idiot.”
“I don’t hate anything about him,” Tenzou murmurs, taking out his phone.
“Work with me, Tenzou,” Kakashi grumbles. “Okay, go!”
Kakashi watches as Tenzou makes a show of dialling on his phone before he presses it to his ear. “Hi, Iruka, how was your day?”
“My day went by just fine~ The children were wonderful~” Kakashi says, making his voice go up three octaves higher.
“He doesn’t sound like that!” Tenzou protests.
“Well, I’m sorry, I don’t know how he sounds like!” Kakashi fires back.
“Stop making Iruka-sensei sound like a rat!”
“You think I sound like a rat?” Kakashi snorts; Tenzou is a lost cause. Even Kakashi isn’t blind to just how head over heels Tenzou is with this unicorn-sensei. Tenzou makes a ‘duh’ face. The nerve of him! “Hey, I’m helping you.”
“Talk in your normal voice then,” Tenzou points out.
“Fine, okay, okay,” Kakash sighs, gesturing with his hand to make Tenzou take it from the top.
Tenzou gives Kakashi a very unwarranted pointed look but proceeds to make a show of dialling Iruka’s number on the phone. Kakashi counts two rings in his head before he ‘answers’.
“Hi Iruka!” Tenzou greets. “How is your day?”
What’s with the how is your day question?
Kakashi tries not to gag. Is this how they really are together? They’re like an old couple!
“My day went by just fine. The children were wonderful,” Kakashi deadpans this time, staring boredly at Tenzou and feeling like an idiot.
“That’s great. I’m glad to hear that. So, you know that I’m going to be moving to campus on Sunday and well, I’ve been thinking about us and I…” Tenzou pauses, a frown appearing between his brows.
Kakashi waits, and waits, and waits, before he blinks and oh, right, he’s supposed to be ‘rehearsing’ this dumb break up conversation. Right, right. “Yes…?” he encourages.
“… I don’t think you and I should continue to see each other. Maybe it’s best we just part ways.” Tenzou says, and goes quiet, tilting his head to the side in silence, before he sighs, slamming his phone down on the counter. “This is stupid, senpai.”
“I agree.” Kakashi says, setting his phone down on the bar top. “Look, you’re the only guy I know who never backs down from a hard decision. If you’re not serious with him, then maybe it’s best to not string the poor guy along. Maybe it’s better to just cut your losses and move on. You know how it is.”
Tenzou growls and pushes himself off the counter. “I’m gonna go pee.”
In his clumsy stumble, Tenzou’s elbow knocks over his phone, the thing clattering to the ground. Kakashi rolls his eyes, bending over to pick it up when he stares at the screen and the still ongoing, very much, very connected phone call to one Umino Iruka (with a heart emoji).
Shit.
Well fuck.
Kakashi tentatively presses his ear to the phone and hears nothing but silence.
Maybe it butt-dialed when it fell?
Deciding not to give it any more thought, Kakashi ends the call and sets Tenzou’s phone back on the counter.