Fic: The Underneath

[avocado_love]

(Last Naruto-ish fic for awhile, guys. We'll return to the normal Avatar shenanigans after this. :D )


Title: The Underneath
Fandom: Naruto/Animorphs
Rating: PG
Summary: I promise you that I will not give up, I will not rest until you are freed. Just hold on, Kakashi. Keep fighting.
Notes: Last fic written for the KakaIru crossover day challenge. The other two Inner Vision and Born of Water are linked.
******

Iruka let out a long sigh as he stepped inside his house and closed the door behind him, too tired and beaten to even reach for the light-switch. Every inch of him was tingling – exhaustion, most likely, or maybe a remnant of the long flight – battling through an hour and a half of headwind with no help from the thermals was hard work. He’d have to ask Naruto if there was a better way to do it. The boy pretty much lived as a red-tail hawk and knew all the—

Two strong arms encircled him from behind and Iruka was too exhausted, too worn from everything to control his reactions. He yelped in fear, tried to turn but those arms held him in place – a hard body melted to his back.

“Surprised?” came a soft hiss, right in his ear.

“K-Kakashi?” Iruka had to make the conscious effort to relax. He reached up and behind, the back of his hand trailing over a masked cheek. “Why did you leave the lights off?” He had to make himself calm down, but he didn't have to hide his irritation.

“Maa… I was working late. The old woman had me filing all my backlogged reports all day. I couldn’t look at another computer screen, or anything bright.”

Iruka made a noise of sympathy. He knew Kakashi enjoyed being out in the field. Even when he could have shuffled off his beat in the bad neighborhoods to a rookie, he preferred out doing something instead of behind a desk. That’s what made him a good cop. One of the best.

Probably why he had been targeted.

Kakashi nuzzled Iruka’s chin. “It’s late.” Pause. “Where were you?”

He was grateful it was dark. Kakashi wouldn’t see how he had to close his eyes, breathe deep to keep his voice even. It was a valid question. It didn’t mean he-- it knew anything. “I was kept late tutoring students,” he mumbled. And it wasn’t a complete lie. He had been with four of his students. The same ones he’d foolishly offered to treat to ramon that one night months ago. Ichiraku's had been close enough as long as they took that shortcut across that abandoned construction site…

“You are too dedicated, Sensei,” Kakashi said, using the sweet little nickname that used to make Iruka shiver and melt.

The hands around him stilled for just a moment and Iruka had a moment of panic, thinking that Kakashi had realized… But he must have mistook the slight hitch in Iruka’s breathing for something else because Kakashi gave a low chuckle (just the way he used too, the damn thing had his mannerisms down so right that Iruka would have never known…) and a hand slipped under the hem of Iruka’s shirt, to trail along his flat bare stomach.

It was everything he could do not to recoil, twist away and concentrate on the tiger DNA he knew must be floating somewhere in his bloodstream... Instead he calmly put his hands over Kakashi’s, stilling the movement. Somehow, his voice remained even with only a tinge of something that might have been regret and not fury.  “I just got home. I haven’t even eaten yet.”

“But I’ve been home for hours…” Yet Kakashi stepped away. Iruka had the brief thought that the real man he loved wouldn’t have let him go so easily. As it was, he could only be glad.

Finally, finally, Iurka reached out and flipped on the lights.

Their apartment flashed into illumination. The furniture was simple, yet elegant and favored their mutual Asian heritage. Kakashi stood to the side, still masked and looking him up and down with one silver-blue eye. “You do look worn down. Go sit down and I’ll get us something to eat.”

Some part of Iruka bristled slightly at that. He did not look worn out like some beaten down hag… But he was tired. And it wasn’t as if Kakashi was the one noticing, anyway. So he shrugged and walked over the couch, absently grabbing the pillow from the seat and bringing it to his chest when he sat.

Kakashi wandered over to the kitchen and soon Iruka could hear the bang and bong of cooking pots. A stray tear slipped down his face and he quickly rubbed it away, cursing himself. He must not show weakness, no indication that he knew at all. And if a gulf was forming between the two, so wide and vast he could nearly see it... and they never made love anymore… it was for the best. Really.

Iruka knew, knew with all of his heart that the man he loved was fighting… somewhere in there. Kakashi probably fought every minute of every day he was conscious, and maybe some when he was asleep.

There had been one night, a month back, where Iruka had woken to find Kakashi staring at him… Just staring. Both eyes open and such a look of silent longing on his face that Iruka had reached out, quite without thinking. The expression was gone, however, as right before Iruka touched his face. The false mask slipped on again. The yeerk once more in control.

“I had a nightmare,” the yeerk said, with Kakashi’s body.

Iruka had just nodded. “I know.”

There had been no doubt in his mind that, just for a second, Kakashi had control. It gave Iruka hope… and broke him at the same time.

I promise, he thought, still watching as Kakashi added slices of leftover chicken-breast to their meal. I promise you that I will not give up, I will not rest until you are freed. Just hold on, Kakashi. Keep fighting.

Kakashi glanced up from the stove then and smiled as he caught Iruka watching him.

And Iruka returned the smile, just as bright and patently false as the one given.
 

****