Chapter 20: first bloom

Toshiro realizes that perhaps their flirting is not as subtle as he would like to believe after he witnesses Gin give Kakashi a very unsubtle thumbs up. Kakashi, in turn, adopts a thousand yard stare as he too comes to the same conclusion. Because of how childlike they are, Toshiro had forgotten that he lives with nine geniuses (Kakashi included) and occasionally Naruto — who, while not a genius in the traditional sense, has no trouble in keeping up with everyone else. Toshiro is now incredibly thankful that he acts a little more restrained in the presence of the kids...and that he purchased better scent blocking seals.

Not that he thinks he'll need to use them anytime soon.

Really.

He doesn't.

Sex is the last thing on his mind, honest, no matter what sly comments Kakashi makes. No matter how attractive his lopsided smile and strong arms are. Toshiro can remain totally professional. Completely.

Ok, so it's driving him insane.

Kakashi is a conundrum. He's a child of war, carved from stone and bathed in blood. Lightning pumps through his veins, his chest has been hollowed out and filled with cotton. Toshiro knows the man has nightmares. Knows the man boils in his own guilt and gets so, so tired and apathetic that all he can do is paste on a false smile and make snide comments to turn people away. Away so they don't see the mess underneath. Kakashi is a soldier who has only ever known war, and he struggles to swim in a world void of it.

He is equal parts confident and insecure when it comes to social interactions. Toshiro can't tell if half the conversations the man shuts down are because he's truly uninterested or really just uncomfortable. No one teaches a child social skills on the battlefield. They teach you the quickest way to draw blood, the quickest way to purge yourself of empathy.

Toshiro observes Kakashi for hours on end and he still doesn't know every facet of the masked man's personality. It's purposeful, of course, because Toshiro doubts Kakashi even knows himself. It's why the Copy Nin has the oddest hobbies, or seemingly random quirks. He was trying to build a personality to fill the void of apathy that bloodshed left gouged into his soul. He sticks his nose into a bunch of different things and then picks and chooses what he likes, uncaring of whether or not they go together.

Toshiro likens Kakashi to a thunderstorm, but that is not always a wonderful thing. Beautiful, electrifying, stunning. A devastating force of nature. Pounding, icy rain that slicks the earth with mud and filth. Howling wind that bites at your flesh and tears at your clothes, your hair, your eyes. Cold and loud and miserable. Thunderous, unstoppable, deadly — overwhelming. The tumultuous nature of a broken man is like glass ground to dust. Shiny, shimmering and beautiful in the light, but quick to sting and draw blood at the slightest wrong touch.

He wants to understand Kakashi. He wants to know where they stand with their game of flirting and pushing and pulling. Because for all that Kakashi will follow the dance, he's just as quick to dart away. It's obvious the man barely knows what he wants himself, barely knows what he's allowed to be, allowed to do.

For someone straightforward like Toshiro, Kakashi's shifting, shadowy nature can be irritating. It is irritating. At least in this capacity. As they live in a world of shinobi, such personalities and attitudes are expected and Toshiro cannot fault that. But they're friends — maybe more. If he can't have honesty in their work-lives, he wants it at home. He wants to be human again, not just a tool.

And he wants Kakashi to see that, too.

It's okay to do what you want. To take that step. To think with your heart before your head. To let your body lead even if you don't know where it's taking you.

In their house, on their streets, with their friends, with their kids; they're not on a battlefield. They're home.

"Kakashi." He catches the man's attention.

The kids had left just minutes ago, eager and obnoxious and knowing. The house is silent aside from two men playing chicken, awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Kakashi blinks slowly, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms and the streaking scars — he's never looked more attractive to Toshiro, droopy eye and bedhead and all.

He wants to step into Kakashi's space. Wants to pull his mask down and kiss him, wants to tell the man it's okay if he's a little broken, because they're all a little broken. And if he wants, they can spend the rest of their lives gluing bits of themselves back together.

He does none of these things, because he's always led with words before action.

"Do you know how I feel about you?" Fish for information.

It's quiet. Kakashi blinks again, his fingers twitching. He makes an abortive movement with his hands before his arms drop to his sides. "I don't know. Sometimes it's hard to tell. I suppose, if anything, we share a particularly strong friendship."

Toshiro's lips quirk up. That's one way to put it. "I hear that some people are able to connect through fighting. They let their fists do the talking and their feelings are realized and understood. You and Gai are a good example."

Kakashi raises an eyebrow, "You...want to fight?"

"No," he snorts lightly and shakes his head, pale gold slipping over his shoulder. Kakashi's eye follows the movement. "I'm telling you that I'm not like that. And I'm not a mindreader, no matter what some people might say. The feelings we hold for each other, no matter what they are — are impossible for us to understand if we don't speak them. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty confused about where we're sitting with each other right now, and I don't particularly like it."

"Ah," Kakashi clears his throat. "...well." He makes a wavy motion with his hand, visible skin steadily flushing. "Words and feelings. My two favorite things."

In response to the man's obvious embarrassment, Toshiro feels his own skin start to flush. His hands shake, and he presses his palms to his chest to feel the pounding of his own heart. Toshiro has stood in a room of Clan Heads and demanded change. He willingly entered battle with a ROOT operative knowing the likely outcome was his death.

He can do this.

Probably.

If Kakashi doesn't flee before Toshiro can get the words out. The man is starting to look flighty, his dark eye tracking to the side and his toes scrunching against the floor. Always able to act when it's not serious, but unable to face reality.

He sighs, entirely too fond, "I'm trying to tell you that I like you as more than a friend, you ridiculous flight-risk. And if you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you, then maybe we should get on that."

Kakashi makes an odd sound, like choked laughter, "I thought I was supposed to be Genma in the little analogy we had going."

"Yeah, well, you were taking too long to ask me out."

Kakashi makes another withering noise.

"What, you don't want to?" Courageous as he just was, Toshiro feels that front begin to falter. His voice wavers, nerves showing. The heartbeat beneath his palms picks up. Even the smile on his face feels wobbly.

Kakashi squeezes his eye shut, fingers clenching into a fist and unclenching. Clenching and unclenching. Like pulling teeth, he grits out a weak, guttural reply — "I do."

You don't sound excited. Toshiro tries not to take it personally.

"You want to go out with me, or you want to kiss me?" Toshiro steps closer, noting the subtle tensing of Kakashi's frame as he does.

Kakashi cracks his eye open and gifts Toshiro with a heated look that pins him in place. "I'm not sure what else I should have expected."

"What?" He manages to get out — then pauses upon being exposed to Kakashi's face, the mask pooled around a pale neck.

The silver-haired man steps forward, shoulders loosening as his arms come up and around to pull Toshiro against him. His hands slide down Toshiro's back to settle around his hips. Toshiro's arms end up trapped between their chests. A nose nudges at his ear, a hot exhale heats his cheek.

"You're like a bull in a china shop." Kakashi mutters, his voice deep and rumbling in Toshiro's ear. It sends a shiver down his spine that isn't wholly unpleasant.

Wiggling, he manages to slip his arms out so he can return the impromptu hug. With their chests pressed together, Toshiro can't tell if it's his heartbeat shaking their bodies, or Kakashi's. Maybe it's both. He shuts his eyes and presses his face into Kakashi's shoulder. Their joined body heat makes the flush on his cheeks deepen, and this position overwhelms him with the scent of the other man. Ozone and sandalwood. Metal and dog. Toshiro grips the back of Kakashi's shirt tightly and exhales against the loose fabric around the man's neck.

"What's the point of building walls when you keep tearing them down?" Kakashi mutters, voice somewhere between exhausted and wistful. Toshiro swallows. What skin he can see is bright red.

"Should I apologize?" He asks.

Kakashi hums, "I don't know. I don't really know what I'm feeling right now."

"That's fair," Toshiro huffs. "Neither do I, aside from nervousness."

It's hard to put a name to the emotions you feel when you never learned how. It's just a swirling mess of good or bad, and trying to distinguish separate ones felt impossible. That numbness came from war, from murdering dozens before you lost your last baby tooth. Shinobi were taught to shut off their emotions. It made it easier to face an enemy if you locked away your empathy — hesitation meant death, or the death of a friend. It was turning those emotions back on that was the hard part, and very few ever really succeeded. To fill that incomplete feeling left behind, shinobi picked up quirks or hobbies to cope. It's why the civilians, who observed odd behavior by shinobi every day of their lives, would just laugh it off without much thought. Oh, it's just a shinobi thing. No matter how odd.

Kakashi's grip tightens, his chest pressing tight against Toshiro's as he takes a deep breath. "Okay. Okay."

Then he pulls back slowly, the bare skin of their cheeks brushing delicately. Toshiro's breath catches in his throat, his fingers tremble against Kakashi's back. He's killed men thrice his size as a child. He dug his way through bodies and blood and mud.

Their lips touch and his heart squeezes.

Pink eyes flutter shut, pale lashes tickling his vermillion cheeks. Kakashi's lips are dry. It's just the soft press of flesh against flesh, but Toshiro's whole body feels electrified. It's a little awkward — first kisses generally are, and neither of them are particularly experienced, Toshiro's first life aside. It's noses bumping soft cheeks and slipping from top lip to bottom lip, to corner of the mouth. He pulls his hands back to trail up Kakashi's chest and rest on the man's sharp jaw. Tracing the skin with his thumb, he can feel the faint tug of stubble — and a little further up his right thumb catches on the edge of Kakashi's scar.

A huff of breath from Kakashi's nose — and he presses forward, drawing a muffled gasp from Toshiro. One of Kakashi's scarred hands remains wrapped around his back, the other slips up to get lost in the loose wave of pale gold hair. He pulls.

Toshiro gasps louder, this time his mouth falling open. Kakashi swallows the sound and catches Toshiro's bottom lip between his own, but it's messy and a little too hard — his teeth nip sharply without thought and the taste of blood meets their tongues.

Kakashi pulls back, his eye darker than Toshiro has ever seen it, a smudge of blood on his rosy mouth. Toshiro takes a few deep breaths, his tongue tracing along his throbbing bottom lip, where the surge of blood is coming from. In an instant, it's healed. Kakashi's eye traces the movement hazily, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

"Sorry." He says, breathless.

"Don't worry," Toshiro whispers back, "I liked it."

Kakashi makes an odd sound in his throat, and Toshiro kisses him again. It tastes like mint and blood and the remnants of breakfast, the damp slide of their mouths sending little shocks across every atom in his body. Kakashi grips him tight and presses, presses, presses until Toshiro feels his back meet the counter, not even aware he'd moved. Breathing gets harder as his brain fogs up and he's not sure he can remember to take in air when the slick feel of Kakashi's tongue against the seam of his lips saps all rational thought from his head.

He finally has to pull away with a sharp gasp, lungs straining. Kakashi bites at his jaw, then trails downwards, sharp teeth snagging on the heaving, flushed skin of Toshiro's neck. He lets out an embarrassingly high pitched noise when the silver-haired menace puts his mouth over the throbbing pulse of Toshiro's carotid and sucks. He twines his fingers into that wild, untamed silver hair and alternates between holding and petting. It's surprisingly soft for the amount of gravity-defying it does — amazes him everytime he runs his hands through it.

Heat pools in his gut as Kakashi's teeth skim closer to the junction in which his neck meets his shoulder. Toshiro tugs impatiently at the man's hair, dragging those wandering lips back up to his own.

"No funny business in the kitchen," he mutters against Kakashi's mouth, before kissing his way inside.

Kakashi groans as their tongues brush, and Toshiro knicks his on a sharp canine. The renewed hint of blood doesn't slow either of them. The Copy Nin pulls away after a long moment, saliva damp around the corners of his mouth.

"Your fault entirely." He says, red lips curling into a smirk.

Toshiro doesn't think it's possible for him to be any more attracted to Kakashi than he already is, but the heated, kissed-out look on the other man's face is doing something to him. He presses their foreheads together softly, sated and amused. "Oh, it's my fault you can't keep it in your pants?"

"Absolutely," Kakashi replies without hesitation, his warm breath ghosting over Toshiro's tingling lips. "Your seduction technique is impeccable."

Toshiro laughs, their noses bumping. "I've seduced you, have I?"

"Yes," Kakashi says, and there is once again no hesitation. But the look on his face has changed. It's softer now, silver lashes low over a warm eye, the sharp smirk sanded down into something a little sweeter. It's not an expression Toshiro has ever witnessed from the man before. "Yes, you have."

Labels in the shinobi world are hard. Unless you're part of a Clan, most never even marry. It's easier to just love or fuck whoever you want — and most shinobi have multiple partners. There is dating, of course. Not everyone is into open relationships. Those who do get into one are usually pretty possessive of their partner(s). Toshiro has a feeling Kakashi might take it to a whole new level. That's only a guess though, because of the dog thing. He could be completely wrong.

But as he stares into the mirror at the row of hickeys down his neck, he's pretty sure he's onto something.

Neither of them are interested in anyone else. The term 'boyfriend' feels a bit weird, so they've settled on partner, or lover. There really doesn't have to be a label for it. They're each other's and that's all there is to it.

Pulling away in the kitchen had been hard, but he really does draw the line at… moving on to whatever might have happened while in a space like that. It would be hard to clear the space of smells before the kids got home, and he is not subjecting them to that. Besides, he had work, so they couldn't stay there and make-out like teenagers.

No matter how much he wanted to.

Sighing, Toshiro hovers a hand over the rapidly purpling marks. If they weren't so obvious, he'd be tempted to leave them. The way they looked against his skin made him dizzy — made him think of exactly how he got them. Dammit.

He heals the marks, resolving to tell Kakashi to leave them under the collar next time.

Then his chest swells with a tidal wave of honey-sweet giddiness at the idea of a next time — and at the fact that it's possible. They aren't dancing around each other. They aren't flirting — well, that's a lie. They'll probably still flirt. Kakashi's whole thing is getting under people's skin. Flirting is just a new way to do it, and one he's obviously not unwilling to try on Toshiro.

He steps out of the bathroom with a sigh, neck now clear of hickeys. Already dressed in his uniform, he meanders back into the kitchen. "Alright, I'm off."

Kakashi eyes his neck with a frown. "Hm."

Toshiro rolls his eyes and jabs a finger in Kakashi's direction, already halfway out the door. His voice dips into something sultry. "Next time, below the collar."

Then he shuts the door with a grin, the sound of Kakashi's spluttering in his ears.

"Kazane-san, ready for your checkup?" He closes the door behind him, the silencing seals flaring to life.

The very pregnant Inuzuka Kazane is his first patient. She's about seven months along and swollen to prove it. He's been seeing her for most of her pregnancy, so her wild, dark brown hair and sharp grin are familiar. Even being Hospital Director, he still has to complete a certain amount of clinic hours — and they'd organized her checkups around them at her insistence.

She'd also very vehemently expressed her dislike at his formality. He was forbidden from calling her Inuzuka-san.

Kazane's chin rises, her nose twitching. After a second, her dark gold eyes narrow, an expression of absolute glee overtaking her feral features. "Holy shit! Hatake finally grew some balls!"

"Kazane-san, please." He groans, hiding his smile behind his clipboard.

She laughs raucously, "Hey man, you're the one dragging his scent around! The whole damn village was wondering when you two would finally get your acts together. It's a new thing, right?"

"...as of this morning." Toshiro admits.

"Yes!" She hisses through her teeth, fist pumping out. "Guess who just won a lot of money!"

"Please tell me there wasn't a betting pool about our relationship." It's rhetorical, because of course there was. He knows what his friends are like, and what bored shinobi get up to.

Kazane mimes zipping her mouth shut. "Then I won't tell ya."

He barely manages to stop from rolling his eyes again, yet is unable to stop the humorous grin from blossoming forth. It doesn't even matter that by the time he gets out of work, over half the village is going to know he and Kakashi are involved. If they didn't already think that.

And he knows people did, otherwise Mizuki-sensei and Iruka-sensei wouldn't call him Hatake-sama. Too bad he'd liked the way that sounded too much, otherwise he would have corrected them.

(He probably still won't.)

The rest of the checkup proceeds as normal, Kazane-san has a perfectly healthy seven-month-old girl. He endures her probing questions and good-natured ribbing. Most seem to find Inuzuka's to be...too much, at times. Toshiro thinks he understands them well enough, their camaraderie is just a little more abrasive than others.

(Good thing shinobi generally had thick skins.)

There's probably no hope in asking her to keep it to herself, even if he did he's sure the nature of his relationship status would get out sooner rather than later. While it's true he'd rather have been able to tell his friends himself, he's sure they'll probably be more excited that it's happening at all. Nosy bastards.

When they finish, Kazane hops off the examination table and brushes down her wide maternity shirt. After a toothy grin and a loud goodbye, she makes her way out. He sterilizes the room and follows, flipping the sign on the side of the outside wall from occupied to open.

About two hours later, he's ambushed in his office.

"Aikawa-sensei!" Tsutomu Hanako, his chosen Shinobi Trauma Team Head, slams his door open with excessive gusto. Her dark brown hair is starting to escape the high bun she's wrangled it into, and her dark eyes are blazing. "You and Hatake-sama!?"

Toshiro turns his gaze to the ceiling, a flush rising to his cheeks. It's going to be a long shift.

The kids already know. It's not even that they heard rumors while at school. No, it's something else. Something Toshiro really should have expected, but it still has him pausing with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

"You mean you weren't already together?" Haruki asks, blinking wildly. Otoya sits at his feet, curled tail thumping against the hardwood.

Sai gifts them with one of his odd smiles, "This reminds me of a romance trope commonly used in novels geared towards teenage girls."

Kakashi stares for a moment, before sighing. "Yeah, okay."

Chiasa, still sweaty and dusty from a D Rank with her team, gives them both slight nods. "Congratulations."

Toshiro grins, feeling a little sheepish all of a sudden. It's not as if anything will change, but he's kind of like the step-dad in this relationship, isn't he? The approval of the children means a lot to him.

"Yeah!" Touma exclaims, "But don't do that kissy stuff around us. Blegh!"

"Touma!" Gin scolds, his hand descending on his little brother's wild curls.

Touma screeches as he's noogied, "But it's gross! Kissing is gross!"

Kakashi puts a hand on his chin and smiles with his eye, "You might think differently when you're older, kiddo."

"No way!" The lavender-eyed boy exclaims, finally escaping Gin's clutches.

"I don't know," Kojika murmurs, her hands on her cheeks, "I think it's romantic…"

Gin whips his head in her direction, silver eyes narrowed, "You haven't been talking to any boys, have you?"

"Maa," Kakashi waves his free hand, humor in his voice, "Save it until the first boyfriend, Gin-chan."

Takehiko and Asuhi glance at each other, then Takehiko gifts Toshiro and Kakashi with a thumbs up, his cheeks puffed with food. Asuhi smiles at them, wide and bright and so much like Naruto. They still don't look alike, but sometimes… Well, he can tell.

"I'm happy for you, Kaka-nii, Toshi-nii!" She exclaims, a far cry from the sullen girl she once was.

"Thank you," he says, and under the table, where the children can't see, he curls his hand around Kakashi's.

It's warm.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!" Shisui yells, clutching his chest like he's been mortally wounded. "You couldn't give us a heads up? Send a hawk? A dog? I know you've got plenty of those!"

The tea house is almost full, and the collective rambles of the other patrons masks most of their conversation from prying eyes and listening ears. Shisui, Hoshika and Fuyumi sit on one side of the table, pressed together in the booth. Toshiro is sitting besides Inoka, her mouth curled into a gleeful, catlike grin. She hums happily and sips on her tea.

"Ignore him," Hoshika mutters, her elbow digging into Shisui's side. She's the buffer between her boyfriend and his more composed clansmen. Clanswomen? "We're just glad you guys finally did something. You were more painful to watch than Genma and Raidou."

"Thank you." He replies dryly.

Inko giggles, "Man, they might even beat you guys out with their pining. If only one of them had guts like Toshiro."

He folds his arms across his chest, flushing. "All I did was confront him about it! Why waste time dancing around if the feelings are mutual?"

"The age old question." Inoka snorts.

"Don't ask me." Hoshika mutters, jerking a thumb at Shisui, "This idiot asked me out right from the start."

The curly-haired Uchiha grins smugly, "I was just so taken by you, I couldn't keep it in!" He wiggles like a child, "And you said yes!"

Hoshika purses her lips, tan cheeks darkening slightly. "Yeah, well, it was the only way to get you to stop coming around."

Fuyumi coughs delicately to hide a laugh.

"Oooh, I didn't know Uchiha could get burned." Inoka faux-whispers.

Shisui pouts, his one dark eye wide and wet, stupidly long lashes fluttering. "Oh, the colder she is, the harder I fall—"

"Anyway," Fuyumi interrupts, ignoring Shisui's squawking. "I'm glad to hear that you're happy, Toshiro-kun. It's uncertain how civilians will react, however. In Konoha's short history, there has not been a Clan Head who took a same-sex lover."

"Openly." Inoka chimes, brushing her loose, low ponytail back over her shoulder. Her blue eyes twinkle, "Some of 'em could'a had a little...side piece. Ya feel?"

"Possibly." Fuyumi allows, "But I just want you to be careful. The shinobi side of Konoha will accept you entirely, for the most part. You have heirs, numerous enough to not worry any elders. Civilians, however…"

"Yeah," Toshiro sighs, running a finger along his rapidly cooling cup of tea. That's the part he's been trying not to think about. Homophobia wasn't...rampant, so much as homosexuality just wasn't acknowledged to begin with. To broadcast it so openly and plainly would certainly stir up a few people. Part of him wants the civilians to brush it under the rug as just another shinobi quirk. Another, louder part of him wants it to create something of an impact.

The LGBT+ community in Konoha is unsupported, unloved, unseen — very few safe spaces exist and they're kept under wraps. Most of the general public don't even know they existed. Toshiro wouldn't be hard pressed to say that some civilians have never even heard of two men kissing being a thing. If he and Kakashi being… maybe not in your face public, but at least open about their relationship manages to ease the hearts of those struggling with their sexuality? Well. There is a lot of stigma and ignorance around the subject, but with time and effort...

"Uh oh, Shiro-chan has his thinking face on!" Shisui chuckles, resting his chin on his hands. "What part of Konoha are you tearing apart and rebuilding this time?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replies, taking a long sip of jasmine tea. "I'm just enjoying spending time with my friends."

Hoshika scoffs lowly, "Yeah, right. Jeez, I can already feel how much of a pain this will be." She slumps in the booth, the back of her head thunking against the upholstery.

Inoka grins, sharp and alive and looking just as eager as she had five years ago, when she and Toshiro discussed going to the Yamanaka's for help. "I dunno, I'm always up for a little mayhem!"

"Right on!" Shisui holds out a hand and the two smack their palms together, while Fuyumi just shakes her head with a poorly hidden smile on her lips.

It's safe to say not a single person there believed his words. He grins into his tea, wondering when his life got so lively and full of people he'd kill for.