Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yamato wasn't sure how long it had been since he last saw Kakashi outside of the Hokage tower, but considering how good his memory was, it must have been months. Whenever he had a free day, his eyes involuntarily wandered to the big glass windows reflecting blinding light. He knew Kakashi was either dozing off or trying to convince Shikamaru to let him leave a little earlier. Yamato wanted to visit sometimes, he really did, but life always got in the way. Considering everything they´ve been through, he saw it only fit to check on his former senpai - the word held quite a sentimental value by now, because instead of dropping the honorific, he had to upgrade to bigger guns. Much to Kakashi's dislike. Yamato thoroughly enjoyed the way it made Kakashi shrink on himself whenever he called him Rokudaime-sama with a slight, playful inflection of his voice that was accompanied by a barely visible tug of his right eyebrow. 

Now, Yamato stood in front of the door with his hand lifted to knock, realizing that he's maybe feeling a little nervous to show up after months of no contact with the older man. Nobody warned him about how difficult it was to keep up with adult friendships, especially when the other person was a Hokage . Not that rank would matter to Yamato anyway.

He was abruptly yanked out of his head when the door swung open, an ANBU guard staring at him through his fox mask. He bowed his head slightly.

“Rokudaime-sama said he can hear you think all the way through the door, taichou,” the guard said matter-of-factly and took a step sideways, gesturing for Yamato to enter the office. Yamato smiled sheepishly, but the moment his gaze rested on the incredible mess everywhere around him, his smile froze in place.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, his eyes scanning all the towers of neat and straight paper, hoards of scrunched up papers and then finally the Hokage himself, half sitting on the desk and browsing through more paper. 

Without looking up, Kakashi let out a deep sigh. “Lovely of you to stop by, Tenzo . I thought you finally moved to the countryside to start your own cabbage farm.” The way Kakashi said his name was deeply familiar and it made Yamato feel all warm inside. The sensation almost startled him. Hearing the white-haired man linger for one beat too long on the N in his name was something he didn't know he missed. Tenn-zo. Except it wasn't even his name anymore. But today, he didn't have the heart to make that correction out loud.

“I have no idea how you came up with that, senpai, but no - you kind of gave me a full time job,” Yamato replied and folded his arms on his chest, a small smile escaping his lips again. This man and his strange, strange mind. “Also, I might take “ finally” personally.”

“Hmm,” Kakashi mused, still not tearing his gaze from the papers. He turned the page, the contents furrowing his brows ever so slightly. He looks quite exhausted , Yamato thought to himself. Then Kakashi spoke again. “Still with the senpai thing.”

“Sorry. Senpai-sama,” replied Yamato playfully, amused by the overused sentence. 

A light chuckle escaped Kakashi.

“I honestly always believed you liked it when I called you that,” Yamato said genuinely. “I still do believe it.” 

That made Kakashi finally lift his gaze, eyes a bit wide. Immediately, Yamato felt heat rush into his cheeks as he realized that this sounded a bit flirty . He was now painfully aware of the ANBU guards standing silently behind them and he wondered whether the air suddenly felt thick only to him. Thanks to his ANBU upbringing, he was slightly less socially skilled than most of his peers, yet he believed that if there was someone even worse at this, it was Kakashi. The fact that he picked that up meant that everyone did. 

Years of practice told him that Kakashi bit his lower lip behind his mask when he was uncomfortable. Great, so I just waltzed in after months and immediately fucked it up , Yamato thought and shifted his weight. The silence stretched forever - at least that's what Yamato thought, in reality it was barely a few seconds - before Kakashi replied with amusement in his voice.

“Only because it came from my favourite kohai. Anyway,” he finally put the papers down and mirrored Yamato'´s stance of arms crossed over the chest, his expression unreadable again. “What brings you here, except for the love for your favourite senpai?”

“Uhh,” Yamato shrugged apologetically, “Let's catch up over a drink?”

***

“I'm actually pretty impressed you're still holding the function,” said Yamato half-heartedly and poured himself another glass of wine. They ended up at Yamato's apartment after they both agreed that neither of them had the mental capacity to go to a loud bar, especially with all the attention Kakashi's presence brought. 

Kakashi swirled the glass, watching the deep red wine seemingly hit the brim with each movement of his wrist, yet not a single drop escaped. “I could not imagine why.”

They sat on Yamato's sofa, both comfortable enough with each other to let go of every ninja tool and equipment. Yamato sat with one leg over the other, his arm extended along the top of the sofa in Kakashi's direction. Kakashi was sitting sideways with one leg under his body, the other comfortably extended under the coffee table, leaning towards Yamato. Both had a breath of pink colour spread across their cheeks, the wine bottle almost empty.

“Are you bullying Shikamaru the way you'd always bully me? I imagine the dynamic could be pretty similar,” Yamato raised his brows and looked expectantly at Kakashi, who in turn pouted a little. Even in the dim light of Yamato's modestly decorated living room, Yamato did not have a hard time reading Kakashi's facial expressions through the mask. Whenever he was comfortable and tipsy, Kakashi wore his emotions on his face.

“No, not really. It was quite a special dynamic with you.” 

Yamato smiled and shook his head. “Quite specific. Annoying, if I might add.”

Kakashi's fingers lazily drew circles on the top of the sofa, just slightly out of reach of Yamato's hand. A sudden, alcohol-induced wave of curiosity hit the younger man as he scooched closer, scrutinizing eyes digging deep into Kakashi. His knee brushed over Kakashi's leg as he shifted on the sofa.

“Why did you disappear so suddenly back then? In ANBU, I mean.”

Kakashi looked back at him, confused. “You know that. Lord Third pulled me out of ANBU to become a sensei.” The sudden closeness of the other man raised his heartbeat significantly and he prayed that Yamato's exquisite ninja senses were numbed enough.

The younger man hesitated for a second, wondering if he was letting the alcohol take a bit too much control over him. Eventually he decided not to back down.

“Yes, yes. But you disappeared . You knew where I lived. You knew where I trained. I didn't see you for years . Six of them. We met once, just a few weeks after you left. Just like this, on my couch with a bottle of wine, and then you disappeared. Senpai, I just don’t get it. What happened?”

Kakashi's shoulders dropped a little under the attack. He now remembered how intense and oddly talkative Yamato got when he was under the influence. He shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet the other man's captivating eyes. He's so fucking creepy like this , he told himself as Yamato stood completely still, applying constant pressure on the white-haired man.

“I guess there was a lot going on,” Kakashi finally said.

Yamato scoffed, as if Kakashi's reply deeply offended him. He let the silence hang for a while, pondering about how to approach this. Kakashi fiddled with his empty glass.

“Don't give me that, senpai. We both know you were just failing kids and walking around with that book.” The words stung, though Yamato’s expression softened just enough that Kakashi felt a flicker of guilt. “I just want to understand.”

Kakashi pondered whether he should cut this conversation short before it overpowered him. “It's a very long time ago,” he said cautiously. Then he emptied his glass as if to hide behind the gesture. Yamato looked at him for a bit and then finished his too.

“Was it something about the evening?” he asked curiously, not ready to back down.

Kakashi sighed, staring somewhere above Yamato's head. “In a way.”

***

They sat on the floor under the couch, their laughter filling the room. Yamato's left foot was resting lazily on Kakashi's lap, a gesture they long forgotten could be interpreted as something intimate . For them, it was just a Thursda y. As Kakashi reached for his glass on the coffee table, Yamato accidentally pushed his foot into Kakashi 's thigh, which made Kakashi lose balance. The glass of wine slipped from his unstable, tipsy fingers and before any of them could react, the maroon liquid spilled all over Yamato's chest. Kakashi barely managed to catch himself before he fell, ending up with his face just a couple of inches away from Yamato's. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, wide-eyed and their jaws lax.

“Sorry,” Kakashi said and pushed himself away from Yamato. Yamato just laughed, his cheeks deep red. “I'll help you clean that up,” Kakashi added with a grin, glad that Yamato's face was as flushed as his.

He helped Yamato take off his t-shirt, exposing his bare chest. That was nothing new, he has seen that many times during their missions. Before Kakashi could catch himself, his eyes wandered down Yamato's neck. That was the moment that carved itself deeply into Kakashi's memory, the moment he wished his sharingan made him go blind, the moment he wished never happened. He knew he lingered with his eyes for a split second too long. Yamato's questioning gaze yanked him out of his stupor. “What is it?” Yamato asked, uncomfortable under the scrutinizing look. Their gaze met for a moment, but Kakashi's eyes were drawn too strongly to the maroon mark on Yamato's collarbone. As Yamato realized, his hand sheepishly covered the mark. 

That night, Kakashi left without answers to questions he didn't know he had.

***

“The hickey.”

Kakashi startled at Yamato's voice that tugged him out of his spiraling. It was now lacking all of the playfulness from before as he also recalled the events of that night. Now he heard a hint of… realization in the younger man's voice. He sighed and let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling. He thought this realization would be a thing of his wildest dreams, because he would never tell Yamato directly. Yet here they were. 

“The… hickey,” Yamato repeated as if in a dream, unknowingly placing his hand on his collarbone, which was long without a trace. 

“Mhmm,” Kakashi mused in agreement, letting his head loll to the side and gazing up at Yamato. The younger man sat straight, staring into the distance with his hand still in place.

“I… I had no idea,” Yamato said quietly and now turned to look at Kakashi, his eyes wide like a child staring into a starry night.

Kakashi smiled softly, the rosy blush of his cheeks now painting gradients with the burgundy blush of alcohol. “Honestly, neither did I. And then I couldn't bring myself to… to seek you out again. Self-defense.”

“Horrible one,” Yamato scoffed, but his cheeks were burning too. He didn't mind.

A moment of silence stretched between them. “It was one of the older guys. I didn't like it much,” Yamato said in a light tone.

“Huh?”

“The hickey,” Yamato shrugged dismissively. “The guy sucked. Not worth it.”

Yamato chuckled a little as Kakashi stared at him speechless. He let his body sink into  the sofa and put his arms behind his head. His eyes, even if dazed over by alcohol, looked dreamy. 

“I suppose he did, since it left a mark like that.” 

“Senpai!” Yamato exhaled and laughed heartily, folding his arms onto his stomach without any grace. “That was horrible.”

Kakashi just smiled at him, softly and sadly at once. He did feel eternally grateful that he ended up indirectly confessing to Yamato, explaining why his young, emotionally unregulated self did what he did. But on the other hand, he couldn't possibly tell him that-

“Still?”

“Huh?” Kakashi said again, unable to keep up with his own thoughts and drunken conversation with Yamato.

“Do you still feel that way, senpai ?” Yamato turned his body more towards Kakashi. He seemed to be closer, way closer than before, and Kakashi could feel Yamato's body heat radiate onto his bent leg. He felt his cheeks turn scarlet again.

“You will regret asking me once you're sober,” is all Kakashi could answer.

Yamato huffed. “I can read between the lines, senpai.”

Before Kakashi could retort, Yamato's soft lips were pressed against his. And for Kakashi, those lips became what he'd call home.