Surprise!

By Kenjenkei

When Kakashi finds himself in an awkward situation with a drunken Iruka, rumours about the two spread like wildfire. Before long, the whole of Konoha thinks that the two are dating, or at least doing something like it. And what happens when they finally start to notice one another? Iruka X Kakashi.

==============================================This is going to be a mainly light and fluffy fairy-floss confection. Might get a little angsty in the middle section, but otherwise sweet and peanut-buttery-like. :)

PS; Yaoi. If you don't know what that means, then this may not be the story for you. If you don't like boy/boy, don't read it.

And if anyone could point me in the direction of a better intro, PLEASE TELL ME! I'm reaaaaallly bad at writing them…(weep)

Warnings; Nothing obscene in the first chapter.

I don't own Naruto. I just wish I did.

It was Iruka's birthday.

Outside, it was wet, dark and sticky, with that horrible kind of wind that seems to blow right through you, carrying (as a sort of special bonus) freezing little droplets of something that was exactly halfway between rain and snow; causing both a wet splatter and a chilly build up in any sort of nook or cranny that you were so unwise to expose (such as your left ear).

Inside the Hokage's offices, small, dripping clumps of humanity shivered and quaked beside numerous gas heaters, filling the hallways with a smell that hinted both of wet dogs and extremely old boiled cabbage. The only sounds were the low-pitch murmuring of far-away voices and the occasional stifled sneeze.

All the way up in the mission room, Iruka sat slumped at his desk, trying to read an almost illegible mission report. The fact that it was only one of the many stacked on (or if he wanted to be entirely accurate, completely obscuring the surface of) his desk was not cheering him up in the slightest.

He stared down at the blotted and slightly damp scroll, squinting in a half-hearted effort to decipher the scrawled and blotted account of a 'B' class reconnaissance mission. Iruka hissed to himself in annoyance and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, then checked the clock on the wall for the seventieth time that day, ignoring the mission paper lying accusingly on the desk in front of him. It was only three in the afternoon, and he had at least four hours left ahead of him…

And not one person has even bothered to say "Happy Birthday"…

He sighed, tired, angry, and somewhere deep inside, more than a little disappointed. Almost fourteen years working in the building, and no-one, not even Hokage, not even Kotetsu, not even Naruto for goodness sakes…

Ten minutes later, the mission room was empty.

Later on that day…

Kakashi was freezing cold, soaking wet, and almost completely exhausted. He had just returned to Konoha after a month-long mission in which his main activity had seemed to be wading around up to his waist in snake-infested swamps, and so the sight of the little village, glowing golden through the trees, filled him with a profound sense of gratitude, not to mention relief.

He glided through the dark streets like a shadow, unheard and unseen, snatches of conversation and music passing him by from the surrounding restaurants and houses, avoiding the numerous puddles with well-practiced agility. Kakashi was heading for a small, secluded, and above all little-known bar on the southern side of the village. Not only was it the only place in Konoha he could drink in peace, it also had some of the finest persimmon sake in the whole of the country. It had no name; it didn't need one. Only a small handful of people in Konoha knew about this bar; topmost among them, the Fifth Hokage, Jiraya, and himself. The prices were high, but the people who frequented it knew that they were not only paying for the exceptional sake, but also for the rather high price of almost total solitude.

He walked down the secluded street and pushed open a nondescript, rain-streaked wooden door, throwing a mellow circle of golden light out into the street before shutting it behind him. Glancing around the room casually, he started to head over to his usual seat, and then froze, not just because someone was occupying it, but because he couldn't believe his eyes.

Umino Iruka, the chunin, no, the ninja with the most sparkling, sensible and sober reputation ever possessed, was slouching by himself at one end of the bar. By the several empty bottles of sake sitting on the bench beside him, he had been there for some time, and by his morose, albeit rather inebriated expression, he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon.

Kakashi had seen Iruka around the Academy countless times in the few years, although he wasn't sure if Iruka had seen him, partly because the teacher seemed to be either constantly filling mission reports, teaching, or haranguing some terrified chunin/jonin about their sloppy handwriting or their delayed paperwork, but mostly because Kakashi himself had been trying to keep out of Iruka's way, having his own immense backlog of overdue mission reports that he had yet to put a pen to, and being lectured by an exasperated chunin was not exactly a his idea of a good time. He couldn't imagine how the Academy teacher had found out about this place, unless someone had been talking, and that seemed unlikely. Everyone who frequented the bar prized their privacy too much to risk having outsiders find out about it.

Nevertheless…here he was.

Kakashi approached Iruka slowly, taking note of the way the teacher was swaying slightly. When he was close behind him, Kakashi tapped him carefully on the shoulder. He was unprepared for the speed at which the chunin moved, whipping around on his seat so fast that he almost didn't see him coming, a kunai gripped tightly in his fist, prepared to make a counter attack. The impressive effect was slightly spoiled when Iruka, after blinking up at him with a vague expression for a second, lost his balance and toppled slowly off of his bar-stool to land with a crash at Kakashi's feet.

'Ow.' said Iruka, and then rolled over onto his back and grinned up at Kakashi happily. 'Heeey, Kakakaka…ashi!' he slurred hesitantly. 'What're you doin' all the way up there?'

Kakashi squinted down at him.

No way is this Iruka, he thought, against all apparent evidence.

Since there didn't seem to be much else to do, he stooped down and scooped the chunin up, managing to lift him upright with only a small amount of staggering.

'Looooook at you, Kakassshi!' said Iruka indistinctly, pulling a disapproving expression onto his face with some effort. 'St…staggerering around like that. Why don' you shtand still, like a, like a…' he thought hard for a minute, until a couple of words managed to permeate the thick pink alcoholic fog around his brain. 'Like a standing still thingy!'

Triumphant in his mastery of the language, he swivelled around, bringing Kakashi, who still had his arm around the other man's waist, along for the ride. Disentangling himself with some difficulty, Iruka went to sit down on his bar stool again, and mostly succeeded on the fourth try.

Kakashi sighed.

All I want to do have a drink, or maybe two, then go home and roll into bed. But Iruka-sensei will never make it back by himself, and he can't stay here; and if he has any more sake he'll be so pickled that he'll be better preserved than average gherkin. There are a hundred and one things I'd rather do that cart a drunken chunin home, like…

…like reading porn, his mind helpfully supplied. Or possibly disembowelling myself with a potato peeler. Much more pleasant than helping a sake-smelling, possibly pukey and seriously sozzled Iruka back to his apartment.

Charity, exhaustion and the promise of Make-Out Paradise all fought tooth and nail inside his head, but eventually, looking battered and bruised but still victorious, charity won. The two losers of the fight, exhaustion and porn, slunk off into one of the dark corners of his brain to sulk, but not so far away as to be outside of jeering distance.

'C'mon, Iruka-sensei, up we go.' he said, taking the younger man gently by the arm. Iruka, again wearing a gloomy expression, allowed himself to be manhandled out of his seat. Kakashi wrapped his own arm around his waist, supporting and steadying the chunin, and then draped Iruka's arm over his own shoulders, holding him approximately upright. Together, staggering slightly, they lurched out of the bar, like some strange kind of lop-sided, four-legged monster.

The rain was coming down in earnest now, and it drizzled down Kakashi's collar like ice, trickling down his back and making life generally unpleasant. Iruka either didn't notice or didn't mind, seeming impervious to the fingers of cold sliming their way across his skin.

Kakashi momentarily considered teleportation jutsu, but dismissed the idea. He had hardly any chakra left due to the gruelling nature of his recent mission; and the amount used by the jutsu would leave him immobile until morning, as energetic as a piece of dough. He started down the street for a few yards, and then stopped short as he realised he had no idea were Iruka lived.

He looked to his side, where Iruka was emitting sake-scented breath in the same way that decomposing swamp matter emanates noxious fumes.

Iruka's face was flushed, and his eyes were closed, so Kakashi unceremoniously elbowed him in the ribs. He was taking Iruka home out of the goodness of his heart. It didn't mean he had to be nice about it.

'Iruka-sensei, where do you live?'

Iruka's chocolate brown eyes opened slightly, and after a few seconds, he mumbled an address. Kakashi hoped like hell that it was the right one, because if it wasn't, he was going to leave him there anyway.

For the first time, Kakashi wondered why Iruka had been so seemingly intent on drinking himself into a drunken stupor. He didn't know the other man all that well, but he didn't seem the sort to regularly drown the sorrows of the day via total inebriation. It was none of his business, but…

He headed down the avenue towards what was hopefully Iruka's house. It was only a few block away from the bar, and so he wouldn't have to walk too far. On the corner to Iruka's street, Kakashi paused for a second, tired almost beyond belief, to catch his breath. Every step was draining his almost non-existent reservoir of energy away, and he thought of his bed longingly…

A sudden heavy weight on his shoulder startled him, and he looked around to find Iruka's head on his shoulder, completely motionless, with eyes shut. Immediately, he panicked.

OhshitOshitOshit! Is he dead? Is he breathing? OSHITOSHITOSHIT-

Propping the chunin up against the wall, he felt for a pulse---

'SSSNNnnarrgh…'

Kakashi stared at Iruka in disbelief, hand still halfway through probing the younger man's neck for a pulse. Iruka, while standing up in the freezing cold and practically glacial rain, and also while soaking wet, had fallen asleep.

And, as a plus, was snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

There was a pause, and then, although unwillingly, Kakashi started to laugh. He rubbed a hand over his face and glanced up the street, where, twenty meters away, lay the door to Iruka's apartment block. Sighing, weariness driving back amusement, he lifted the deeply sleeping chunin up into his arms, one arm propping up his back and the other behind his knees.

Bridal style, Kakashi mused, and gave a small snort of laughter.

He walked slowly towards the apartment building's door, his body aching with fatigue. Up the stairs, and then, (Dammit, he thought) even more slowly up more stairs. After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the third floor and stumbled towards number twelve. Another age seemed to pass before he reached the door, and when he did, Kakashi gave a heartfelt sigh of relief.

A new problem presented itself. He tried the doorhandle hopefully; no such luck; it was firmly locked.

Dammit, he thought again.

Kakashi took one look at Iruka's peacefully sleeping face and decided it was too much effort to wake him up again. Instead, awkwardly pinning the chunin to the wall, he reached into one of the young man's pockets, and thanked any and all gods in the vicinity as his fingers closed around cold metal. He unlocked and opened the door and slipped the key back into Iruka's jacket pocket.

Reeling slightly as he lifted the chunin, he tottered into the apartment, which was pitch-black. After a certain amount of fumbling, he found the light switch and pushed it (with no small difficulty) by means of a well-aimed elbow. Looking around, he saw a sofa pushed against the wall nearby. Sighing with relief, he wobbled over to it and deposited Iruka gently on the cushions.

At least, that was the general idea. Sometime during their perambulations about the streets of Konoha, Iruka seemed to have grasped hold of his jacket, and so when Kakashi tried to put the chunin down, an unfortunate mixture of exhaustion, astonishment, and Iruka's surprisingly strong grip, brought the jonin down on top of him.

Oh, damn, Kakashi thought, resting his head against the recumbent chunin's shoulder, exhausted and exasperated beyond reason.

And that was when fifty assorted ninja teleported into the room.

'SURPRISE!!!'

Well, it certainly was...

Finish

Well, hoped you liked it!

PS; If you think it's a good idea to continue, please let me know, I'd really, really appreciate it, 'cos I have a really good idea for the next chapter!

DENA