Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I did have to untie Kotetsu though.

Comedy from Konoha! The crazy things our favourite Jounin and Chuunin get up to, starring Iruka and Kakashi

All the stories from this series are inspired by the rabid plot bunny from the ninth level of hell I've come to call 'Twitch' because the only warning I get before he suddenly attacks my ankles is a slight twitch of the ears. Then it's just all teeth and demands *Sigh*

My wonderful editor is Meuin. She is the grammar nazi from hell and I love her for it!

CRACK OPEN ANOTHER BOTTLE!

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to- Oi! Don't throw shit at me!" Izumo yelled angrily as he was bombarded with dip soaked corn chips, empty bottles and a rather sorry looking napkin.

"This is a funeral ya moron, not a fucking wedding! 'Dearly beloved' my sweet arse," snorted Kotetsu as the rest of those lazing drunkenly around the lounge room laughed uproariously.

Izumo plucked a chip from his hair crunching it aggressively while glaring at his long-term friend and often mission partner. "It's my eulogy and I'll say whatever the hell I please. I didn't throw crap at you when you were speaking."

"I didn't sound like I was trying to marry off a dead man."

The black haired Chuunin threw another corn chip which Izumo caught mid air in his mouth and cockily munched. It was quite an impressive move considering how much the bandanna wearing shinobi had drunk that night. The effect was mildly ruined because of the tomato salsa streaked across his cheek however.

"My eulogy," he grumbled again. "Just shut up and try to be respectful for once in your life, idiot. This is for Iruka."

Kotetsu just snorted again and downed another cup of sake. Flicking some crumbs from his black funeral clothes and clearing his throat, Izumo started again.

"Dearly beloved," a challenging glare was aimed at the spiky haired Chuunin but Kotetsu just rolled his eyes and didn't interrupt. "We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of our dear friend, Umino Iruka. Iruka was a wonderful teacher, a good man, and a supportive friend. He was also the little shit bag from hell as a Gennin!"

A loud cheer and more rambunctious laughter greeted his statement. Izumo staggered slightly as he waved his arms around and called for silence. His lightly tanned skin sported two dark red patches high on his cheeks, showing just how drunk he really was. It truly was a miracle the man had managed to remain standing for that long, let alone be capable of any form of comprehensible speech. Finally, the laughter died down and the brown haired Chuunin could continue.

"Our darling Iruka-chan was such a cute kid, all wide calf eyes and toothy grins. But little did the upstanding citizens of Konoha suspect that the adorable orphan was really the devil incarnate of mischief."

"How the fuck can you use such big words when you've drunk four bottles," Anko suddenly yelled from the couch. "Wrap it up, pretty boy. We still gotta bury the dead."

Izumo stuck his tongue out at the purple haired kunoichi before frowning and squinting at her. "What're you doing here anyway? You're a Jounin!" he finished off pointing accusingly.

"Special Jounin, not full Jounin!" Anko screeched at him and threw a handful of popcorn. "Besides, you were all at my funeral so I get to go to yours! Now finish the hell up already!"

The men in the room had all covered their ears as their only fellow female 'mourner' valiantly attempted to shatter the windows with her voice alone. Anko could get remarkably shrill when drunk.

Iwashi started making shushing noises and stuffed a dango ball into the loud kunoichi's mouth to muffle any more noise. Luckily, Anko's obsession with the sticky treats prevented her from spitting it out and yelling some more.

"Quiet down," Iwashi hissed as the woman munched delightedly. "My neighbours will start complaining."

Kotetsu and Izumo looked confused for a moment.

"We're your neighbours," the black haired Chuunin stated, pointing between himself and Izumo.

"And you're about to start complaining, right?" Iwashi countered with his brilliant drunken logic.

The two other Chuunin glanced at each other before nodding seriously.

"Yeah," they intoned at the same time and Iwashi just gave them a look that clearly said 'well there ya go'.

Izumo shook his head to clear it, stumbled as his sense of balance decided to fly out with whatever else had been clouding his thoughts, and waved his arms around for everyone's attention.

"Anyway, I'll cut this short. He was a cute kid, demonic shit head, possessed the temper of a horny bull and the golden arse of a god!" he hefted his sake cup high and all those in the room did the same, much of the alcohol spilling to the floor. "A toast to my beloved friend Iruka. May that gorgeous behind of his rest in peace."

"To Iruka!" chorused around the room and cups were drained.

Finally, Izumo's brain decided that having legs was just too much trouble and he collapsed sideways onto his darkly blushing, pony-tailed friend.

"I'm gonna miss ya, Ru," he laughed and wrapped his arms around the man's shoulders, giving him a wet kiss on the cheek.

Iruka just kept laughing and hugged his friend back roughly.

"Good to know I'm going into the other world loved," Iruka laughed before hiccupping drunkenly and reaching for the sake bottle again.

"Well you did manage to piss off an entire room full of Jounin and the Hatake Kakashi," Iwashi laughed and passed over a bowl of long cold pork dumplings.

"Yep," Kotetsu cackled happily. "You're fucked."

"Totally fucked!" Anko agreed happily and snagged another stick of dango.

"Ain't that the truth," Iruka sighed and popped a dumpling in his mouth before pulling a face and mumbling around his food. "Those really are disgusting when cold."

"Yeah, the food's done. Let's go bury the dead!" Izumo declared and all except Iruka cheered.

"Noo! I don't wanna be buried with the taste of cold dumping in my mouth."

"Easy fixed!" Anko whooped and pressed a bottle of sake to his lips.

More poured down his chin than what made it into his mouth but it was the thought that counted. The five shinobi staggered to their feet and stumbled from the apartment leaving a mess behind that would inevitably take Iwashi the entirety of the next hung-over morning to clean up.

---

Three hours, numerous mud ball fights (their version of burying the dead), and countless bottles of sake later; Iruka was weaving his way through the streets of Konoha towards his apartment. He was incredibly drunk, filthy, dripping wet, and missing quite a few of his clothes. He would have been much dirtier if he'd not lost his footing on the lake edge and fallen into the water; thus, his being completely soaked. At least it was still early autumn and the weather wasn't frigid.

His half-dressed appearance stemmed from his groups tradition that the dead needed to be buried naked. Iruka had barely managed to keep hold of his pants and singlet but the others had still managed to steal his leg wrappings, funeral shirt, shoes, and hair tie. Fortunately, he'd left his leaf hitai-ite at home that night before attending his 'funeral'. Even though he had managed to keep his singlet, it was in poor condition; large rips covered the mud splattered back fabric where Anko had tried to tear it off his body.

As Iruka deftly managed to avoid the evil light pole, which had suddenly sprung up in front of him, the roadside curb decided that this was the perfect opportunity to leap out and attack. The academy sensei lost his footing and was sent sprawling onto the road. He rolled to his back and lay there for a minute, staring up at the stars above, before starting to laugh quietly. Even completely inebriated he still had the sense not to make too much noise in a hidden village of ninja. They tended to throw pointy things when angry.

Rolling to his side, the happily intoxicated man managed to get onto his knees before attempting to stand. He failed spectacularly falling backwards into a sitting position, dark hair hanging around his face in dirty clumps. As he sat in the middle of the road and contemplated how incredibly difficult standing had suddenly become, Iruka noticed his arm was bleeding. How in the world had that happened?

Oh yeah, the evil curb.

He glared nastily at the bordering stretch of concrete quietly edging the road trying to look innocent.

"Mean. That was just mean," he grumbled at it darkly.

A muffled step sounded somewhere behind him and Iruka tried to snap his head around to look. The world decided to tilt drastically to the left. He groaned cradling his head carefully with his hands in case it should tumble off his shoulders and continue the journey home without him. Another stepping sound floated to his numbed ears and the dark haired man decided calling out might be a safer option than trying to look.

"Where who's?" he demanded of the dimly lit street before pausing and scrunching up his scarred nose confusedly. "No, wait a minute. That's not right," he muttered and frowned down at the road. "Not where who's. Doesn't make any sense. Who's where? No, not right either."

"I believe the words you're looking for are 'who's there' or perhaps 'who's that'," a deep voice spoke to him from close by.

Iruka looked up through his matted hair to see a tall, shadowed figure standing over him outlined by the street light. He squinted to try and focus his eyes and managed to pick out enough distinguishing features to recognise who this person was. Tilted hitai-ite, black mask, poufy silver hair, and slouched posture. Of all the people he had to run into on his way home, it just had to be Hatake Kakashi. That was plain unfair. He fixed the Jounin with hazy brown eyes and pouted.

"I can't die yet. I can still taste the dumplings. I don't wanna die with the dumpling taste in my mouth. You're early!" he glared accusingly at where he assumed the older man's eye to be before his gaze dropped and he frowned darkly at Kakashi's vest pockets as if the situation were entirely their fault.

"How does dumplings and your apparent death relate to each other?" came the rather confused enquiry from above. "Were the dumpling poisoned?"

Iruka continued to stare at the pockets. It was far too much effort to raise his eyes any higher.

"Um, no… well they might have been. Kotetsu cooked them and that's always bad. But Anko lied and then stole my shirt. I think Izumo used it to replace his bandanna after it got lost in the mud when Iwashi scored a goal. But then he stole my shoes to use as ammunition. I wonder if Kotetsu's still tied to that tree… hmm… Still Anko lied! Now it just tastes like soggy plum pork dumpling and not in a good way. I wonder if pork dumplings would go well with plum sauce… Hey, did you know there's eels in the lake?" Iruka finished his ramblings raising wide, expectant eyes to the man still hovering over him.

There was a long silence before the silver head shook slightly. The tall figure crouched down next to Iruka, moving away from the bright light so the intoxicated Chuunin could finally see the Copy-nin's exposed eye. It looked thoroughly confused. What was so confusing about there being eels in the lake? Either Kakashi knew there were or he didn't. Obviously, by the look the pale man was giving him, he didn't and Iruka had the urge to reassure him.

"There are," he stated earnestly, placing a comforting hand on the Jounin's shoulder. "Big ones."

The single grey eye crinkled slightly and a half gloved hand rose to scratch at the back of the silver head.

"Okay, let's try something a bit simpler." Iruka thought he could hear amusement in the deep voice. "Why are you sitting in the middle of the road at two in the morning?"

"Because the curb attacked me," the inebriated man growled and glared angrily at the stretch of concrete. "It attacked me and then the road bit me," he held up his bleeding arm, "and then I think one of them stole my legs 'cause they're not working anymore. They're in cohorts!"

A chuckle came from behind the dark mask. "I think you mean cahoots."

"That too. Bastards."

Another chuckle drifted on the air. "Alright, back onto more serious topics. Why do you think you're going to die?"

At those words, Iruka remembered whom he was talking to and his shoulders slumped in defeat, his hand falling from the other's shoulder. He couldn't fight the famous Copy-ninja like this… he didn't even have his legs! The teacher's alcohol flushed face transformed into a vision of desperate misery. Large chocolate eyes looked directly into the single grey now watching him with surprised concern. Iruka had perfected the 'lost kicked puppy' look when he had been a young trickster. The real thing was by far more devastating, especially when he was sitting there flushed, wet, dirty, bleeding, in ripped clothes, and with his hair loose.

"This isn't fair. I suppose it'll hurt less like this," he sighed sadly and tried to smile but came out looking simply miserable. "Alcohol dulls pain, right? At least I made it through my funeral."

By this stage, the Jounin was looking very confused and more concerned. "Iruka-sensei, who do you think wants to hurt you?"

"You."

A silver eyebrow hiked up so high it disappeared beneath the headband. "Me?"

"Yeah, though I thought there'd be more," he muttered and looked around the deserted street. "Suppose you don't need them."

"What are you talking about?"

"I pissed off a room full of Jounin and challenged your authority. The guys decided that was the first nail in my coffin so we had my funeral tonight and now I'm just living on borrowed time," the teacher looked up at the stars again and sighed. "I always knew my students would be the death of me."

"Ok, that makes a little more sense. I just need to be clear on one thing though, you had your funeral tonight?"

"Yeah, that way I get to hear the eulogies, drink the alcohol, and eat the food. Except we had cold pork dumplings and that's just mean. Who would be so cruel to feed mourning people that? Kotetsu obviously," Iruka shook his head slowly so it didn't dislodge and land in the Jounin's lap. "Serves him right to be tied to the tree with a mud bra."

He glared at the Copy-nin when something that sounded suspiciously like a mutter of 'should have gotten him drunk earlier' reached his ears.

"I'm not drunk! Am just mildly tipsy is all. I have amazing powers of alcohol intolerance!" Iruka frowned and looked at the Jounin's vest again as the older man started laughing. "Wait, that's not right… What was- hey! Stop trying to distract me. I won't go down without a fight, Kakashi. Be easier if I had my legs though. Stupid curb. Are you in contorts with it too?" he growled up at the older man.

Kakashi just eye grinned at him. "No, I'm not in contorts or cahoots with the curb and road."

"Oh, well that's good then. They're not to be trusted," Iruka folded his hands in his lap and looked down at where they rested against his legs. "Hey! They're back!"

"I rescued them from the enemy for you," the Jounin at his side said, amusement clear, "as a peace offering."

"You did?" Iruka asked him, eyes wide in amazement. Kakashi nodded at him. "Wow, you really are good."

"So, can we move past the Chuunin nominations and be friends?"

The dark brow furrowed as the Chuunin mulled over Kakashi's words and apparent heroic deeds for a few silent moments.

"Yes."

"Good. Think you can walk now?" the Jounin asked him with a crinkle eyed smile.

Iruka snorted at him. "'course I can."

After two failed attempts, it was clear he couldn't. Kakashi just crouched there quietly as Iruka tried to regain his feet after initially shaking off the Jounin's offered assistance. Finally the intoxicated man realised he'd have to admit defeat without admitting defeat. But how did one do that with the Copy-nin who was renowned for his ability to look behind the underneath... or something like that? Ugh, these games were just too much trouble.

"I think I need help," he finally mumbled in a small voice. "They don't seem to be working yet."

A pale hand took hold of one of his dirty tanned ones and coaxed the Chuunin's arm over vest-clad shoulders. The shorter man was hauled awkwardly to his feet and had to rest against the solid body next to him while the ground gave a valiant imitation of the ocean during a storm. A solid arm wrapped around his waist and held him steady until the earth decided to stop moving.

"It would be easier if I just teleported us, but I think you need a walk to sober up." he spoke low next to a tanned ear and Iruka grunted his agreement, too inebriated to care about personal space.

He was glad Kakashi no longer wanted to kill him. He didn't really want to die with the taste of soggy dumplings in his mouth. Something about their earlier conversation was bothering him though and he suddenly realised what it was.

"Hey, I pissed you off at the nominations so why are you giving me a peace offering?" he asked, trying to point at each of them in turn but mucking up the order.

Kakashi just flashed his crinkly eye smile again and started them moving forwards. "So there are eels in the lake huh?"

"Yeah!" the drunk and easily distracted Chuunin grinned. "Big ones."

"How did you discover that tonight?"

"Anko tried to steal my pants."

A strange choking sound came from his current support and Iruka looked at the pale man curiously. "I think you might need to explain that a little more for me, Iruka."

"Hey, you didn't call me sensei," the tanned man accused.

"Well you didn't call me sensei earlier either."

Iruka cocked his head confusedly and squinted at the older man. "But, you're not my sensei."

"And you're not mine, so we're even."

That little revelation swam around in Iruka's brain along with the sake that had replaced his blood for the evening. "You," he pointed unsteadily at the silver haired Jounin, "make a very good point."

The older man just chuckled. "So, Anko tried to steal your pants?"

"Yeah, and I had to evade but the lake moved too close and I fell in. Then the eels tried to steal my pants but I got away from them too. Slimy bastards."

"Ok, so that explains why you're wet and muddy."

"Less muddy," Iruka corrected.

"Less muddy?"

"Yeah, cause the eels attacked and I jumped out of the lake and warned everyone and we all ran off screaming… except for Kotetsu. He's still tied to a tree," the heavily intoxicated man suddenly gasped. "Oh my God! The eels will get Ko! I have to go save him."

The staggering Chuunin was prevented from running off to rescue his spiky haired friend from a marauding gang of eels by Kakashi's firm grip on him.

"It's alright, Iruka. Kotetsu's safe from the eels," the Jounin soothed and the drunk man found himself pulled a little closer to the tall, solid frame.

Iruka looked worriedly into the exposed grey eye crinkled happily at him.

"Did someone rescue him already?" he asked in a small voice.

"Mmhmm, ANBU heard all about the eel king's heinous plot and saved Kotetsu from their evil, slimy clutches," Kakashi chuckled.

The muddy man just stared at the silver haired Jounin in absolute horror. "Oh my God! I have to save Ko from the ANBU!"

The pale man's limited expression turned confused again. "What? Why?"

The road chose that moment to try to bite him again but Kakashi was too quick for the horrible asphalt and managed to keep Iruka upright.

"Because they're gonna kill him! Ko peed on one!"

A moment's stunned silence followed that bit of information.

"Hagane Kotetsu urinated on an ANBU?" Kakashi asked carefully.

"Well yeah, that's why we had his funeral," Iruka scoffed before trying to move away again and stumbled. "That's why I have to save him."

The grip on him didn't loosen an iota. "He'll be fine. I promise. How did Kotetsu pee on an ANBU?"

"You really promise?"

"I really really promise," the voice was low and gentle and Iruka found himself leaning against the Jounin's steady frame again. The pale hand holding his wrist started to stroke fingers over his pulse point. It relaxed the inebriated Chuunin further. "Now, tell me the story."

"Well, Ko was on sentry duty and had to go to the toilet. There was no one around to cover his post so he decided to go off the side of the wall. He was all stealthy and ninja-like but there was an ANBU being more ninja-like below. It wasn't pretty… and quite smelly. Ko ended up in the hospital for a week thinking he was a twelve year old girl with a crush on Ibiki-san and a phobia of pudding."

The Jounin's laughter was low and long.

"It wasn't funny. The pudding was trying to eat him," Iruka adamantly defended his friend.

"I'm sure it was terrifying. Tell me more about this funeral ritual you and your friends have," amusement was still obvious in the older man's voice but Iruka was once more distracted by the request.

"Oh, well when one of us does something really stupid to piss off those of higher rank we figure we're gonna get torn apart pretty soon so we all get together and have a damn good time so they can enjoy their send off before actually getting sent off. We have food and sake and give our farewell speeches so they can enjoy it before it happens. Then we bury the dead. If it's winter we have a snow war, we had a mud war tonight. The dead's supposed to be buried naked but 'cause they're still alive it makes it kinda hard… unless you're Izumo and passed out."

"I see. That's quite a nice ritual actually," Kakashi commented lightly. "And it explains your appearance."

"Doesn't explain yours though."

"Huh?"

Iruka raised his hand not being held captive by Kakashi's grip and poked the Jounin's chest.

"You're muddy and wet too. What did you do? Did the eels try and get you too?"

A deep chuckle drifted from the masked throat. "No. I happened across a fallen angel tonight who'd had a rough evening so I helped him out and this is the result."

"Ah," the drunk man nodded solemnly like the story made perfect sense, which it might have in his head at that moment. "Not nice to leave you all muddy like that."

"Maa, it's worth it."

They walked in silence for a short while, Kakashi keeping a firm hold on his waist and stopping the road from trying to bite him again. It was nice to have some help getting home but the Jounin's assistance was still nagging at him. Kakashi had forgiven him awfully quickly. He was supposed to be beating the hell out of him, which was why he'd had to have his funeral that night. But the man had rescued his legs from the evil clutches of the curb as a peace offering then made sure he wasn't ambushed again. He was being very nice… unless…

He turned his head to squint contemplatively at the pale man's exposed eye.

"Hey, Kakashi?" an answering hum gave him leave to continue. "You're not trying to lull me into a false sense of insecurity, are you?"

There was an amused snort and the silver head shook slightly.

"If I was trying to lull you into a false sense of insecurity that would mean you feel secure already. Therefore by lulling you into a false sense of insecurity any insecurity you feel you'll know isn't real and you're actually very secure."

Iruka blinked, blinked again, and then decided that if he blinked one more time that statement might actually make sense. It didn't.

"You're non-sensible," he muttered confusedly.

"So I've been told," the Copy-nin gave him a smile before nodding towards a set of stairs. "Well, here we are."

The very confused man gazed at the door in front of him and frowned.

"This isn't my house."

"Nope, it's mine."

The frown deepened.

"Why are we at your house?"

"Well, considering how many times you've been attacked tonight I figured you could do with a bodyguard."

The frown turned into a glare.

"I'm a Chuunin," Iruka poked himself in the chest. "Me, Chuunin. I can defend myself."

"Aa, but what if the enemy steals your legs again? You'll be at a major disadvantage and in need of back-up."

The glare receded to a contemplative frown again.

"Hmm… You raise a violated point, my friend."

"They're the best kind," the Jounin chuckled.

The door was unlocked and the muddy man stepped over the landing. Kakashi flicked on the lights and Iruka looked down only to realise how incredibly filthy he really was.

"Holy mother of mayhem!"

"Yep, you're mess. C'mon, let's get your clothes off."

Now, for the normally respectable and upstanding sensei an order to take off his clothes would generally have him blushing and giving the asker a firm reprimand. However, in light of the weirdness that had already taken place that night and the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed the tall man's request did not seem all that out of the ordinary.

"Good idea," he grinned and started pulling off his ruined singlet.

"Definitely should have gotten him drunk sooner," came a low voiced mumble as the black material cleared his lank hair.

"Huh, say something?"

"Maa, nothing nothing," the Jounin chirped happily as the door swung closed behind them.