sunshineverse | [Closed] I wish I could lay down beside you..

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[Closed] I wish I could lay down beside you..

Who: Yamato and Kakashi
When: December 31st an hour or so before midnight
Where: Roof of the Oolong Dragon (Yamato's apartment)
What: Yamato spends new years on his roof with good sake. Kakashi joins him.

With little past to speak of, Yamato had few traditions, but the one's he did have, he held in high regard and honored them whenever his free time allowed. New Year's spent with Tae-san over a bottle of excellent sake, was no exception and given the upheaval of the past half year, he was more than eager to politely decline all other invitations in favor of the matrons company.

They shared the tasks of preparing food and settled around the back table of the tea shop, whiling away the early evening with pots of tea and hit the sake soon after (under Tae-sans insistence).
The lantern light was soft and their conversation amicable from years of sharing the same building and each others stories and Yamato relaxed, little by little, as the night wore on.

An hour before midnight found the table clear and his kindly neighbor, hugging him tight about the waist, as she bid him goodnight and a happy new year before she retired to bed. It had been the same every year; her aversion to loud noises, fireworks in particular, having never lessened in the many years he'd known her.

So it was, that with the shop lights dimmed, Yamato snagged a blanket and the last of the sake and headed for the roof above; settling down with something like childish delight - if not a little drunken silliness - to view the fireworks and see the new year in as he'd done so many times before.

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It took a moment for the question to ease through the fog of his thoughts but once it did, Yamato turned to Kakashi, expression thoroughly confused.

"..Found someone? I'm not..with anyone like that, unless-" He cut himself off, suddenly struck with the thought of what he'd said and how it had sounded. "Did you think I meant Yukimi? I- No! She's..well, she's the most important person in my life but, she's my sister, adoptive or otherwise.."

His cheeks had been flushed from the alcohol already, but the confusion had added to their colour, casting shadows across his nose and ears in the light of the moon. Just thinking of Yukimi like that had him flustered, but confirmed or not, she was his big sister and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Kakashi's eyebrows rose with surprise, then fell with embarrassment just as easily as he realised the root of his mistake.

"Ah, so that's who you were with at the Lantern Festival..." he mumbled, more to himself than to Yamato. He should have guessed really, and - ignoring the strange feeling of weightlessness that had suddenly transpired in his chest where a feeling he couldn't name had been since he'd seen Yamato wrapped up the arms of a curly haired sunbeam of a girl - turned to Yamato with a sheepish smile showing in his two uncovered eyes.

"My mistake, I didn't realise that was Yukimi.."

The embarrassment had burnt off a little of the alcohol, but that was soon fixed with the last swig he took, polishing off the bottle of sake as he gave Kakashi a questioning look.

Realization was soon to strike though.

"Ah! So that's why you ignored her call after you..I did wonder, I know for a fact that your hearing isn't that bad.." He scoffed, clearly amused and nudged Kakashi with his elbow "You know you'll have to make it up to her, right? She won't forgive you otherwise."

His amusement turned into a bashful grin and Yamato dropped his chin, tugging the blanket closer again "..Were you worried about intruding?"
He couldn't quite fathom why that sort of consideration made him happy, maybe because it showed him that Kakashi cared? perhaps. Either way the warmth in his chest grew at the thought and he hugged his knees close self consciously.

Kakashi balked a little at the nudge; after all, he hadn't seen or heard from Yukimi beyond what Tenzou had relayed from her letters in over ten years, how was he suppose to make it up to her? And what was he even supposed to be making up? He honestly hadn't heard them!... Well, that was kind of a lie. He'd heard, but the last thing he'd wanted was to spend time or even greet what he'd thought at a glance was some relationship Yamato had been hiding. He felt silly for jumping to that conclusion now, especially since he should have really recognised the curly hair a mile off.

"I.. I thought that if she was your.. girlfriend, and you were hiding her away, only visiting her at the festival.. that you might have wanted to keep her a secret.." Kakashi muttered into his mask, then slipped it down to take another mouthful of sake, trying to ease the hot burn in his cheeks at admitting to his foolishness. "So. Yes, I suppose I was."

"Keeping a secret at a festival that most Konoha shinobi attend? I'm not that good a liar, Kakashi."

He giggled at the other mans assumption, genuinely amused that Kakashi had thought he'd been hiding a pretty girl all this time and reached for his sake bottle - only to find it woefully empty - and so set it aside with an exaggerated pout.

The cold was starting to creep in and it must have been approaching midnight by now, surely? Yamato huffed an impatient sigh after that, peering at the sky expectantly as he huddled into his blanket more and finished his thought.

"No, there's never been any midnight kisses waiting for me, Senpai." It was said with a smile, with no intention of sounding mournful.

Kakashi noted the pout, and with a wry smile brimming with affection he passed the remainder of his bottle over. He was pleasantly tipsy, enough to offer up the last third or so of his sake to chase that pout away should Yamato accept.

His words brought a silence to Kakashi, and considerations he probably shouldn't have been entertaining but ones that the sake deemed fit for a short moment of thought swam in his slightly hazy mind. He settled back a little more, casting a look skyward while he thought about his next words. Eventually, he spoke up.

"Have you ever come close to letting anyone in as close as you have Yukimi?" he muttered, his tone conversational, but his tone was quiet, almost fragile.

Any sulk that was brewing, evaporated at Kakashi's offer and he accepted the bottle, before giving it a smalls shake to assess it's content.
The murmured question gave him pause though and the sake bottle fell with his gaze, to settle awkwardly in his lap.

"Yeah, there's another.."

Yamato trailed off, swallowing thickly and unable to meet Kakashi's gaze. Of course he had, the man was sitting right next to him, always seemed to be within arms reach now, especially after so long apart but..

"..They broke my heart though. E-even before I knew that it was something you could give without realizing.."
He paused, swallowing again and smiling despite the sudden phantom ache in his chest. All of his emotions felt far too close, difficult to control, to hide in the manner he was used to, but he supposed it didn't matter now, inebriated as he was. He forged on.

"But they keep surprising me lately, as if they want to fix the damage..haven't been doing a half bad job either.."
Yamato laughed at that, a weak sounding chuckle and grasped his blanket in a death grip, even as he noticed the dampness collecting along his lashes.

Kakashi listened, waited, the sense of trepidation thick in the air and leaving him feeling like a small child waiting for a secret to be divulged. It was strange, hearing Yamato talk about feelings so freely, but he supposed it was equally strange for Yamato to be sharing these things equally with Kakashi. Sake could be a horrible mistress, but she certainly made honesty much simpler between them.

At Yamato's words, Kakashi's skin went cold with a strange shiver, as if it had only just noticed the coldness of the wind breezing over the rooftops.

Immediately his mind jumped to one person, and his mouth opened to suggest the name, but paused before it could form any resembelance of a word. It couldn't be Obito, could it? Kakashi knew all of Yamato's friends by proxy, and the only ones he was close enough to were himself and Obito. Naturally Kakashi's mind went straight to Obito, but something Yamato had said earlier - "Someone I could trust to keep me safe if I needed it and who wouldn't pity or look down on where I've come from, at the very least" - stuck in his mind and made the words catch in his throat.

Kakashi swallowed thickly.

Had he been the one Yamato had unwittingly given his heart to, and had he been the one to break it? Kakashi was so used to overlooking himself that it didn't seem possible, and yet there was no way it could be anyone else. For once logic overcame his insecurities and left him quietly speechless. In all honesty Kakashi had known all along, he'd known in ANBU and he'd known when Yamato cushioned himself against Kakashi in the hospital after their fight. He'd known when Yamato had held out his ANBU mask to him, and he'd known when he'd invitingly patted the space beside him on the roof... but something about hearing it from Yamato's mouth, even if it was just the suggestion of an admission, was staggering in a way Kakashi hadn't expected.

"...Does that mean you forgive them?.. For hurting you?.." he asked, quiet like a whisper on the wind, all thoughts of masking the affect the news was having on him gone. "And you don't.. expect anything from them?"

Edited 2015-01-09 02:09 (UTC)

The tears slid down his cheeks, prompted by the immediate nod of his head at Kakashi's tentative query.

Of course he did, he wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat, blocked off by emotion and salt water.

He'd forgiven Kakashi the moment he'd stayed; not a day back into the village and he'd been drunk and hurting just like now and the older man had brushed slim fingers through his hair and for the first moment since he'd left..everything had felt okay again.

And that was it, wasn't it? Yamato had never once had to justify himself around Kakashi, not how he felt or what he thought, he could be foolish and weak without fear of reproach, even as far back as their first mission in ANBU and it was probably why he was finally able to admit this now.

A watery smile touched his lips and he drew up enough courage to meet the other mans eyes, ignoring the tear tracks down his own cheeks and the broken state of his voice.

"..I forgive you.."

Kakashi's breath all but stopped at that sight. He'd never seen Tenzou cry unless it was from a great deal of pain, but this was emotional and real and directed at him.. and Kakashi couldn't help but feel like all the wind had been knocked right out of him as he stared into Yamato's dark eyes. It was oddly beautiful, seeing someone so strong break down in a moment like this, and though it hurt Kakashi's heart to see him cry, he knew he wasn't doing it out of sadness, and that lifted his spirits like nothing else could. With Yamato's words, Kakashi heard something he didn't realise he'd been craving to hear since he'd left ANBU, and all he could do was stare.

Not for the first time, Kakashi tentatively rose a hand to delve into the hair at the back of Yamato's head, the action almost automatic as a response to seeing the man in some form of distress (usually a drunken one if their track record was anything to go by) as if he were stuck in a trance. In this position he couldn't exactly encourage Yamato to sleep off his sadness like he had when the pair had last been drunk and emotional together, so instead Kakashi dawdled on making any more moves and just ran the tips of his fingers through Yamato's hair for a moment, his uncovered palm enjoying the sensation as his brain tried to process everything that was happening all at once.

He wasn't sure when his brain had pushed his next move into motion until it was much too late to stop it. He had pushed forwards, the hand in Yamato's hair an anchor to reel the other man in closer as Kakashi shifted and finally, finally pressed their lips together. His were still covered by the fabric of his mask, but it didn't matter as the heat of Yamato's breath still seeped through the fabric, and over a decades worth of tension seemed to bleed from his frame.

The touch was more than welcome and Yamato leaned into the careful brush of fingers, letting his lashes flutter closed.

The tension between them was palpable, reminding him of the wait for the first strike in a battle, but when the next movement came he didn't even attempt to defend himself.

Breath first, then a brush of familiar fabric, covering the press of a warm mouth he'd never expected against his own. His breathing stalled and Yamato held perfectly still under the pressure, because wasn't this just the stuff of long squashed dreams..perhaps that was why he suddenly felt so terrified.

It started with a tremble in his hands. The blanket, the sake bottle, both sat forgotten in favor of reaching out to grip the fabric of Kakashi's shirt, seeking
reassurance even as he pressed the minutest amount back into the kiss.

Kakashi's body felt detached from the kiss, like he and Yamato were a million miles away from the two shinobi sitting on the roof of a tea house together, and the only thing anchoring them together was the join of their lips. He felt the tremble in Yamato's hand and probably would have pulled away had it not been for the small reciprocation the other man offered in the form of the slightest press of lips returned to him.

The hand in Yamato's hair stayed resolute, keeping him close. It was then that the sudden explosion of fireworks pierced the dark sky, but Kakashi didn't and wouldn't pull away. If anything his kiss became more insistent, his mind swirling in an excited haze, unable to ignore how romantic this seemed... how perfect it was.

He made a noise of surprise at the first explosion, startled enough to attempt pulling away, but Kakashi held him fast. That insistence had his heart pounding and Yamato shivered from the adrenalin rush that followed.

He pressed back then, eager to show his willingness, even as his mind whirled at everything it could mean, but at the next whoosh of sparks and light, Yamato slid his hand up to Kakashi's collar bone and eased him back, breaking the kiss but leaving only the barest amount of space between them.

Opening his eyes was difficult, as if seeing would break the moment, but his need for confirmation overrode his fear enough to flicker dark lashes open and shudder out a nervous breath between them. It was midnight, the start of a new year and Yamato had never felt so lost for words in his life.

As Yamato pushed him back Kakashi spared the few seconds of pause between them for a breath, and as another set of lights erupted into the sky the copy-nin raised his hand to his face, fingers hooking in the fabric across his nose and tugged it down to rest under his chin.

He knew Yamato would want to look at him, would want to reassure himself and reassure Kakashi, but Kakashi didn't want questions now.. He didn't want to think or wait or do anything that wasn't pressing his lips against Yamato's without the barrier of his mask, and so that's what he did. He gave Yamato that crucial moment to look into his open eye and to look at his face, to see that he meant this, and then their lips were together again.

He tried to maintain eye contact, he really did, but the soft line of Kakashi's mouth was far more fascinating to his overloaded mind and then it was pressed against his again and it honestly didn't matter any more.
Insistent pressure and cool skin were the only things Yamato could process now and with a soft noise, he gave in. Both arms went about Kakashi's neck, keeping them close and going some way to alleviate the trembling that wouldn't leave Yamato's limbs.

The fireworks carried on unnoticed and he couldn't help but muse that this feeling was surely closer to butterflies than sparks, but maybe they had it right about drowning.

If Kakashi had thought that Yamato kissing back at first had rid him of tension, he hadn't seen anything yet. When Yamato's arms lifted to encircle his neck Kakashi could have sworn he felt his heart stutter in his chest, and his whole body turned malleable and smooth.. His very skin was alight with trepidation, warmed through with excitement despite the freezing temperatures surrounding them. Kakashi paid no heed to the fireworks as they carried on and on to celebrate the new year.. He only wished that they continue, so he could stay in this moment as long as possible.

The taste of sake was strong between their mouths and Yamato's return kisses were tentative and soft with his inexperience. His heart hammered in his chest, excitement, nervousness and alcohol mixing into a heady cocktail that had his mind fogged and his attention zeroed in on everyplace they touched.

Not doubt somewhere, far from here, Yukimi was laughing at him and squealing something along the lines of 'I told you so!' and for once he didn't mind at all.

Eventually the fireworks died down and with them came the chill of the night air, a harsh reminder that sitting on a roof in the middle of the night at the start of the year when temperatures were at their coldest was really a foolish idea. Kakashi didn't feel foolish, though, especially not as his hand brushed against Yamato's jaw as he pulled back. There wasn't even an ounce of sake affecting his consciousness right now, or if there was he couldn't tell.

With their lips no longer joined, Kakashi studied his redfaced kouhai and gave him a little grin, unhindered by the fabric of his mask.

"Maybe we should go inside. It's only going to get colder out here."

Yamato blinked dazedly up at the other man, struggling to process the lack of contact and unable to stop the rush of heat to his already flush face at that grin.

Kakashi's words and the chill of the world around them, finally hit their mark and he glanced around, as if waking from a dream, noting with some amount of bashfulness that they'd missed the fireworks completely. The smell of sulfur was thick in the air though and Yamato took a deep breath to clear his head, before nodding and gathering up his blanket and the two sake bottles.

Getting to his feet was an exercise in balance that he didn't quite have just yet, and it was a little thrill to feel comfortable enough to lean a little more on Kakashi than was strictly necessary as they navigated the way back down to his apartment.

The heating was on and there were considerably more blankets and Yamato quietly entertained the thought of whether Kakashi would want to stay or not, while keeping a firm grip on any hope that want summoned; he felt lucky enough as it was to have gained the attention he had and would rather not push that luck if he could help it.

Edited 2015-01-09 19:11 (UTC)

Kakashi kept an arm around Yamato as they descended from the roof to the safe warmth of his apartment, supporting his slightly more intoxicated friend down every step and ensuring he didn't fall flat on his face. It was the least he could do, and if it meant Kakashi had an excuse to be close then that was merely a bonus.

Once inside he wandered through Yamato's apartment as if it were his own, guiding the other man with him.

"We should probably get some rest.. sleep this off before it becomes a headache.." he muttered as an explanation while he led Yamato toward his bedroom.

It was easy to be vulnerable and soft like this around Yamato for the simple reason that all the idolisation and hero worship in the past meant that Kakashi always had the upper hand of the situation; if there was something he wanted, he could ask for it, and there was no danger of too much too soon being ambushed out of him. There was a level of trust and respect between them that Kakashi hadn't really been able to explain until now, but suddenly it made sense, and because of that he felt comfortable here.

The sake bottles were discarded at the kitchen counter as they passed and the bedroom was in comfortable stumbling distance from there.

"Thank god neither of us are on duty tomorrow." Was his mumbled comment, already anticipating a gale force hangover come morning and he sank down gratefully onto his mattress with Kakashi's help.

Yamato had a distinct sense of deja vu at this point, but was warmed by the knowledge that he didn't have to ask this time; Kakashi was preparing to sleep as much as he was and he toed off his sandals, before resettling the blanket properly and stretched out chilled muscles with a content sigh.

"Tell me about it," Kakashi muttered, depositing his drunken cohort on one side of the bed before he turned away to rid himself of his flak jacket. His gloves and hitai-ate were next after he dug them out of the pockets, and he laid them out neatly on the chest at the end of Yamato's bed.

That brought back memories, and he wondered then what had become of his ANBU gear after they'd met in HQ for what was possibly the last time. There were other times to think of that, though, and other times to bring it up, and instead Kakashi set to work on removing his shirt and the mask attached to it.

The room was dim, only the soft glow of street lanterns making it through to illuminate the space around them but his head still swam from the stimulus.
Yamato closed his eyes against it, fighting off the bout of dizzy movement, curling more onto his side and murmuring in discomfort.

He only opened them again when he felt Kakashi shift closer, the mattress sinking under his weight and he was greeted with the sight of a very pale torso and the even paler lines of the other mans neck and jaw.
Despite his best efforts, Yamato's gaze lingered there for a moment; taking in the vision of Kakashi kneeling over him, sans shirt and mask and swallowed thickly around the complicated squirm and flip his insides executed.

He'd closed his eyes for barely a minute, surely he couldn't be asleep already?

His dark gaze trailed further down and ah, there, he certainly wasn't dreaming, his mind would have never fitted that scar across Kakashi's ribs; still angry looking even in the half light and enough to make him flinch with guilt, but not enough to stay his hand.

Yamato reached out, mindless with the need to confirm his friends presence and to rewrite the image of Kakashi he held in his head to include the mark of his own indiscretion. The touch of skin was warm and real under his fingertips, the texture still glossy with new growth even these months later and something inside of him relaxed, like a sigh of relief.

This wasn't a dream, they truly were here and still alive despite what had happened; even with the lines blurring between them with each new boundary crossed, this was the most secure he'd ever felt.

Kakashi sucked a breath in at the feeling of Yamato's touch, of his fingers ghosting across never-before-touched, sensitive skin. It was strange to be touched at all, let alone with the inclusion of his scar. Kakashi hadn't ever let anyone get close enough to do this, and though the movement itself wasn't much more than a study, than reassurance, there was a level of intimacy to it that Kakashi didn't really understand.

He swallowed, only a little awkward, and smiled in a similar way. He was kind of nervous to be so very vulnerable around Yamato, but the burn of sake still sitting in his stomach was the ebb of courage he need, and he inhaled a slow breath of calm before settling his body beside the other man's.

The awkward slant of Kakashi's smile was enough for him to snatch his hand back, blushing a little shame faced in the dimness in the room.

Yamato bit his lip and eased up to lean against the wall, putting some space between them and sitting hunched fiddling with the hem of his shirt and not quite meeting the other mans gaze.

"Sorry that..was weird wasn't it? I just- I haven't seen it healed and I've been meaning to show you- well, Yukimi said it would help.."

He trailed off, prone to babbling when he was nervous, but the chance was almost tenfold when drunk and finally decided to get it over with; prepared to try anything to feel comfortable in his own skin again.

The navy shirt was pulled up and off in a rush and clutched self consciously to his chest but revealed what Yamato had wanted Kakashi to see; dark lines on tan skin, radiating from the top of his shoulder, across his heart and down the inside of his arm, exactly where the attack had scorched his clothing at the end of their fight.
The lines branched over his shoulder and wound tight around his ANBU tattoo, highlighting rather than obscuring and he could only just glance at it, drawing attention to the branch like pattern before ducking his chin.

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