Humour. Romance. Domestic | PG | 460 words | Chapter 1/1 | Read through by darkauroran and beta'd by kita_the_spaz.

The Immolation of Umino Iruka's Rationality

Kakashi/Iruka

-o-

There's an all too familiar acridity within the air when Iruka steps inside his apartment. Scorched ozone and thick, cloying smoke cling to the ceiling and walls, furniture and floors. He hesitates, takes three steps forward and-and Kakashi is there, suddenly, right there in his space wearing an orange monstrosity of an apron with matching floral oven-mitts.

"I made cookies." Kakashi beams.

Iruka peers over the jounin's shoulder. On the table is a rack of charred, chunky biohazard.

"They look, uh…" he hesitates and licks his lips. Staring skyward, Iruka silently questions (again) why nobody warned him about these things. About braving culinary disasters. About enduring hospital stopovers at three-in-the-AM. About all those ridiculously stupid things he either has done or will eventually do, simply because Kakashi asks him to.

The only explanation for his lack of sanity when it comes to the jounin is a strong dose of the crazies.

And a chemical imbalance.

(Love. Whatever.)

"They look delicious," he finally says and draws Kakashi in for his own 'welcome home' kiss.

When they part Iruka pats Kakashi's shoulder, smiles encouragingly (it feels a little unsteady around the edges and lot like the smile he offers to students when he catches them eating the paste, but at least he's trying) and heads towards the tray of… cookies. (Doom.)

He selects one from the top and sniffs. It's alarmingly devoid of all scent and just-how is that even possible?

Beside him Kakashi has gone back to looking pleased.

Iruka stares at the cookie and tries to ignore the debacle that was Kakashi's last foray into baking (Pakkun had actually cried, while Uuhei refused to answer any summons for an entire week), then tries even harder not to reminisce about the days before they'd moved in together. Or how he had never known-with such gut wrenching detail-what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Tsunade-sama gleefully ordering him a gastric lavage.

(For sanities sake Iruka has also completely forgotten that it's only been eight months since they co-signed the lease to their apartment. And that the number of times he's had his stomach pumped since then surpassed 'five' well within the first four weeks of their cohabitation.)

He's beginning to think (a lie; he knows) Kakashi's skills in the kitchen are a force unto their own. And quite possibly a danger to society.

Most definitely they're a danger to Iruka's stomach lining.

But honestly…? All this means to Iruka is that he's going to pre-book a bed at the hospital before taking the first bite of Kakashi's newest creation, because living with Kakashi and Kakashi's cooking might be a health hazard, yeah, but it's Kakashi.

And Iruka is stupidly in love.

(Chemically imbalanced. Whatever.)