Hiyall, a YondaKaka ficcy I wrote for the Naruto_yaoi yahoo drabble.
Notes: Yondaime looked A LOT like Naruto—very much. Add 15 years to Naruto and you have what Yondaime looked like. No real information except that he was the 4th and sealed the Nine Tails and Jiriya trained him, he trained Kakashi's group, etc. I made a lot of stuff up based on fanart ^^;;
Pairings: SasuNaru, YondaKaka, KakaNaru
It's not So bad
By gelfling
***
It's not so bad,
You're just the best I ever had.
--Gray sky morning, Vertical Horizon
***
Kakashi doesn't condemn them for what they do. In his heart, he wishes them the best of luck. He grins when they insult each other, fingertips invisibly caressing thighs under the table, and teases mercilessly with every innuendo he knows.
He knows it isn't right. It isn't wrong, because it's real, but he can't help feeling uneasy. It isn't them. It's him. It's Naruto. It's mostly Naruto. It's pale summer sky laughing and kind, with the occasional shower of peace and sympathy. It's wind-ruffled pale gold streaked with autumn bronze, addictive to the touch. Worst of all, is that smile.
That smile he worked for, trained for…the one he can't forget.
Not if he wanted to. Not if Iruka asked. Not if Sasuke threatened.
He'd give his life for that smile. He'd give his soul and mind and body and face and name and secrets and skill for the single chance to…
He watches them when they think they're alone, far out in the woods at twilight doing all the little things and big things that make it precious. Kakashi can wish them luck but not blessing. He's not proud why.
…
Before the fox, there was a world.
Before the fox, there was a life.
Before the fox, there was a man.
He was the Yondaime, the Fourth Hokage of Leaf, and the master of Kakashi's cell.
He had kind, friendly blue eyes for lazy, freakish boys without family no friends and with too much talent and two gray eyes unscarred. The Yondaime was a freak too; no bloodline, too much talent, too much trust, too much love. No fear of death. It wasn't natural. It wasn't safe.
To Kakashi, age 14, already an Anbu member, he was God on earth. To Kakashi, he *was* family to the boy without family or history or identity. To Kakashi, he was Hokage. To Kakashi, he was---
Kakashi closed his eyes. Far below him, a young man dressed in summer is whimpering, "Sasuke, more, Sasuke…yes, please—Sa—Sasuke!"
Kakashi knows it's wrong; not because they're boys. That's not it, that's not it all, because it's real and honest, so it's fine. It's dangerous. They can't *be* that to one another. They can be God and Family and Hokage but they can't be Love. It…isn't possible. It's too dangerous. It's far too dangerous.
There are worse things than death. There are many things far worse.
Kakashi wishes them luck.
Because if Sasuke hadn't gone after him, he would've. Oh, it would have been *wrong*, a 30-something man with a teenager, practically academic incest, but for that smile and those eyes he'd have Naruto fall for him; it wouldn't've been hard, still wasn't. Naruto was attention starved and Kakashi one of the few authentic ninjas straight down to his bones; manipulation of the human heart and mind was as easy as manipulation of the natural energies flowing through his blood. He didn't care what people whispered about him as long as they didn't know anything real. It wouldn't've been hard for him, but it wouldn't've been honest either.
But (besides the dishonesty, thinking that Naruto could replace one who was dead) he's always thought of Sasuke as a son; he deserved some happiness. So he let them go on their own, blundering and insulting and clumsily courting on their own, let him go, still looking and acting so much like someone he used to know and watch with heartfelt hero-worship of a boy unconnected to anyone, scalding and aching in the silent dark of the night outside his hero's bedroom window.
Because for everything he's done and had and lost…Kakashi never knew how the Yondaime tasted. He knew how he slept, what he liked to eat, which way he dressed, even how he made love to his wife, but he never knew how he tasted. He even knew how he looked at his son with wonder and love shining in his eyes, newly born on the eve of the fox's attack, a tiny replica of the Hokage himself, but he never did learn how he tasted. He never would.
Below Kakashi's position in the trees, Naruto screamed one final time, nails digging into Sasuke's skin as the darker gasped in surprise.
The Yondaime had kissed him once, lightly, on the cheek. The first and last time he was ever to touch him that way. The scent of fox was thick in the air, the scent of fire, and even through his thick Anbu armor Kakashi still felt the full length of his body pressed against his own shorter younger one and felt his breath in his ear as he whispered words he wouldn't hear again, the first and last time.
Silence reigns, until coy kisses and teasing caresses make Naruto giggle devilishly and Sasuke moan. The two continue at it, playfully, affectionately, but sincerely as they kiss open mouthed and open hearted because it was impossible to hide too much from the other for long, and they really didn't want to hide from one another anymore. Not now. Not anymore.
There's a soft whisper of, "Naruto," and someone groaned pleasantly aroused and warm, fingers gentle and pliable. They could keep at it all night if schedule and time and fate provided. They could keep at it for a long time, just learning and relearning one another.
Kakashi left. The sky was summer blue above, and that was as close as he'd get.
***
You don't want me back,
You're just the best I ever had.
End.