silverfoxflower | Fic: Centerfold Sensei (Kakashi/Iruka, R)

Title: Centerfold Sensei
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: Slash, Humor
Word Count: ~2600
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka
Rating: R
Warnings: Crossdressing, glossed-over smut.
Notes: Fills the postage stamp (Prostitution/Sexwork, Vanilla Kink, Pictures, and Crossdressing) of my kink_bingo . See my card here.
Summary: Moving into a new home with Kakashi, Iruka stumbles upon the dirty little secret he had been trying to hide for seven years. Unfortunately, it has been immortalized in glossy, full-color porno magazine.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.

“What’s this?” Iruka asked, more out of caution then censure as he poked the cardboard box in the closet. Dating Kakashi for the better part of the year had taught him never to open suspicious packages lest he wanted to have his eyebrows burned off. Again.

“Porn.” Kakashi drawled without turning around. “Careful. Those are poisonous.” He instructed the movers who were nervously carrying a large range of weapons out the door.

“Oh.” Iruka logically knew that there was no reason to be embarrassed, but a hot flush stole over his cheeks anyway. “You want to keep them?” He asked, sharper than he intended.

“Wait, let me see.” Kakashi strolled forward and kneeled, pulling apart the cardboard panels. Iruka also saw him unhook several transparent wires, and shuddered at what might have happened to him if he had unknowingly opened the box.

Without hesitation, Kakashi began throwing out magazines. There were the predictable large-breasted “Ninja Vixens”, several soft-core periodicals aimed at gay men, and a few that made Iruka sputter and quickly kick them under the bed before the movers could make judgments.

One of the magazines skittered to his feet. Iruka glanced down, his eyes widening as he recognized the cover. For a second, he froze, confronted with his worst nightmare, the most embarrassing mistake he had ever made in his life. With a hard swallow, Iruka snatched it up and looked for a place to stuff it.

“Nope.” Kakashi sat back on his haunches. He looked up with a slow blink, and suddenly Iruka was positive that Kakashi and his all-seeing Sharingan knew everything. But then Kakashi said slowly, “Don’t need these anymore.” He stood up and wandered off.

It took Iruka a minute to steady his breath. Woodenly, he sat and began throwing magazines back into the box, too shocked to even protest the mess Kakashi had left him. The goddamned devilish thing with its glossy pages and shameful secrets went to the bottom of the pile, and Iruka taped up the box like he was exorcising a demon.

“I’m g-going to drop these off at the disposal center!” Iruka called, hugging the box tightly to his chest and performing a quick transportation jutsu right before Kakashi’s mildly amused eyes.

+

Iruka paced the length of his - their - house. It was unlit, largely empty save for taped-up cardboard boxes in every corner, and still felt so alien compared to Iruka’s old apartment. Twenty-four strides from wall to wall. Iruka turned at on his heel and started another slow trek across the floor.

That stupid magazine. And that picture. Kakashi had to have seen it. Iruka slapped his hands over his face in anguish and almost tripped over a stray scroll. Perhaps Kakashi hadn’t made the connection yet. It had been a long time ago and perhaps that had been in the closet since far before the two of them had met …

Well, that was the best case scenario.

Even more worrying was the question of whether he should confess everything. His every instinct of self-preservation, as well as the part of him that actually valued his dignity screamed no, no, NO! Whether Kakashi knew or not, the dirty little truth should stay burned into crumbly little ashes, and never, never mentioned again.

Then, a rational little voice chided, You are in a relationship. You should trust him. Besides, what’s the worst way he’d react? Break up with you?

Iruka actually snorted aloud at that thought, and then sat down, groaning. He was driving himself insane. Despairingly, he looked at the sea of boxes he had promised Kakashi he would unpack. None of them were even opened.

“Kakashi,” Iruka explained to the wall as he grabbed a nearby box and used a kunai to slice off some tape. “I have something to tell you. Now I’m sure you won’t like it, but so help me God, if you say one word of disapproval, I’m going to bring up that incident with the dogs and see how you like calling the kettle black-“

“Okay.”

Iruka flailed backwards, one hand groping for the shuriken he kept in his belt, his other holding his kunai defensively as he turned around and prepared to lunge. “Kakashi!” Iruka gasped in surprise, immediately withdrawing. Then he looked around. “Where are the dogs?”

“Dropped them off.” Kakashi offered no more details as he set down the large container of take-out. “Thought we’d like to christen our new house.” He smirked lazily. “Unless, of course, you want to tell me something.”

Iruka scowled, trying to hide his flush by reslotting his weapons in his belt. “How … how much did you overhear?”

“The threats. And the bit before that.” Kakashi pulled a large cardboard box between them and began unpacking the food on top of it. Iruka watched him, awkwardly, waiting for him to say something else. Finally, Kakashi looked up and spoke. “Cups.”

“W-what?”

“Cups.” Kakashi pulled the plastic bag off of a large bottle of sake.

“Uh …” Iruka scrambled to his feet, automatically searching for the kitchen before remembering that there was nothing there. Looking around him, he spotted a box neatly labled ‘Utensils and Flatware’ in his handwriting, and tore into it, emerging with two mismatched mugs. Without a word, Kakashi poured, and it wasn’t until Iruka got a good, strong dose of alcohol that he spoke again. “Kakashi … I need to tell you something.”

“I gathered.” Kakashi twisted some noodles between his chopsticks, pulling down his mask with the other hand.

Iruka took a big breath. And another drink. “Do you … do you remember the porn I threw away today?”

“All the really weird ones are Asuma’s.”

“There was a magazine,” Iruka forged on, “Called … Josō Suru Boys.”

“The one with the crossdressing pretty boys, yes.” Kakashi nodded as if reliving a good memory. There was never a time more than now that Iruka envied his boyfriend’s lack of shame.

“Yes. Well. I may have, um, modeled for it.”Iruka’s cheeks must have been on fire, they were so hot. He took a steamed bun and began ripping it into pieces. “In my defense, I was young. And poor. And stupid-“

“Modeled for it?” Kakashi leaned forward, amused. Well of course he would be amused. “You mean my proper little sensei has his picture in a porn- crossdressing porn magazine?”

“Kakashi,” Iruka narrowed his eyes threateningly. “Dogs.”

“Wait.” Kakashi snapped his fingers. “What did you do with it?” Immediately, his expression turned almost comically mournful. “You threw it away, didn’t you?”

“I burned it.” Iruka filled his mug with alcohol. “And I’m not sorry.” His eyes met Kakashi’s over the rim as he drank it all. “I’m not.”

Kakashi ducked his head down and looked up again, trying to pull the puppy-eyed look he always thought was irresistible, but was in truth incredibly annoying. “What did you wear?”

There was a growing ache at his temple. Iruka rubbed at it with two fingers. “I didn’t tell you so that you could gain enjoyment from my youthful foolishness, Kakashi.”

It grew dark in the room as the sunset bled out over the horizon. The lamps in the corners of the room threw large shadows on the wall. Iruka clutched his mug warily to his chest as Kakashi crawled around their makeshift table. “Iruka-sensei,” He only called Iruka that when he wanted something, and his smirk made no attempt to hide what it was this time.“Don’t you think it’s cruel of you to tell me,” He took Iruka’s cup from his hands and set it on a nearby box. “That you have a sexy picture yourself somewhere where anyone else can see it,” He pushed Iruka slowly onto the floor and sank on top of him. “Anyone, but me?”

Iruka knew he should refuse, on principle if nothing else, but Kakashi was digging his thumbs into Iruka’s hipbones, rubbing in slow circles, and pressing little kisses under his ear. Iruka moaned. The great Hatake Kakashi was a master at exploiting his opponent’s weaknesses. He also smelled like spicy noodles, and Iruka knew he was done for because he still found that hot. “You have seen it.” He answered weakly, sliding his arms around Kakashi’s shoulders.

“Don’t remember.” Kakashi nipped his earlobe. “Tell me.”

Iruka sighed, pressing his forehead against the side of Kakashi’s neck. He wasn’t, by any means, hiding his face out of embarrassment. “A waitress. With a short skirt.”

He could feel Kakashi’s body tense at that statement. If the copy-nin was a dog, his tail would have been wagging furiously. “Did you have a little apron?” Kakashi whispered, his hand spayed across Iruka’s stomach, slowly sliding downwards.

“Yes.” Iruka shuddered as Kakashi unbuckled his pants and tugged them off, groping his ass through his briefs. Iruka looked up coyly through his lashes. “In one shot, that was all I had on.”

Kakashi’s expression so comical that Iruka couldn’t help the laughter that tumbled out of his throat. Yes, he probably had a little too much to drink. “What else?” Kakashi whispered, his fingers flying over the clasps of Iruka’s vest, fumbling just the slightest in their eagerness.

“I tripped.” Iruka began working on Kakashi’s jacket, unbuttoning it at a sedate pace.

“You tripped?” Kakashi’s uncovered eye gleamed with amusement, and he ducked his head to press his lips against Iruka’s as if he couldn’t help it.

“I did.” Iruka smiled ruefully. “And got cake all over myself.”

Kakashi swallowed. “Where?”

There must have been worse hobbies to have than reducing legendary shinobi to speechlessness. Iruka captured Kakashi’s hand and pressed it to the front of his shirt, where his right nipple peaked against the fabric. “Here.” He slid the hand, smearing it across his chest. “And here.” He raised it to his face and pressed his cheek against Kakashi’s warm palm. With a dark smile, Iruka turned to nip Kakashi’s thumb gently, licking it afterwards as if there was cream there after all. “All over here.”

Iruka’s face felt hot, and he didn’t know whether it was from the alcohol or from shame. It didn’t matter anyways, not when Kakashi was looking at Iruka like this all was an elaborate present designed to surprise him, instead of a regrettable mistake. Iruka could almost laugh when he thought of how worried he had been.

“Show me,” Kakashi was begging. “Show me what it looked like.”

Iruka hesitated. He remembered the lights of the studio so many years ago, how they had been so bright he couldn’t really see anyone behind them. It was embarrassing, thankfully over quickly. Not particularly sexy at all.

But this felt different, untangling himself from Kakashi and crawling away with a drunken sway of his hips. Iruka could feel eyes raking over his spine as he cleared the floor of boxes. Honestly, he still didn’t quite know why he was doing this, other than to see Kakashi’s eyes darken completely with arousal, and right now, it was a good a reason as any.

Iruka maneuvered himself onto his back, arranging his legs in an artful sprawl. The light strain on his abdomen told him that he was definitely wasn’t as young as he used to be. “Like this.” He said, catching Kakashi’s eye before he performed a henge.

He didn’t remember exactly how he looked when he was young, so it was just the apron and the messy cake, smeared across the face and chest. Iruka flushed when he saw Kakashi’s captivated expression. It felt a little ridiculous, actually, the little frilly apron on his lap, clearly tented and growing moist with pre-come. The white cream was clumping his eyelashes.

“Can I?” Kakashi asked quietly, and Iruka had no idea what he meant until he slipped off his headband.

“Oh,” Iruka said, staring into Kakashi’s Sharingan. He thought of being forever imprinted in Kakashi’s mind, available whenever he closed his eyes. “You’ll owe me.” Iruka said, and struck a pose.

+

When the morning light filtered into his eyes, Iruka’s first thought was that it was a mission gone horribly awry. He’d certainly never sleep on a bedroll on a hard surface by choice, and the way his head was pounding reminded him of some the nastiest poisons he had ever encountered.

Then Iruka rolled over and bumped into a wall of hard flesh. He gingerly opened his eyes to find Kakashi’s mouth pressed to his hair. His lover’s slack face made him smile, despite the fact that his brain still felt as if something had burrowed its way in and taken up residence right above his right eye.

Memories from last night began to return, Kakashi worshipping every inch of his body, first with his gaze, then with his hands and mouth, going at it all night long, each time more overwhelming than the last. They had moved from the empty living room to the kitchen, where Kakashi had bent him over a counter, to the bathroom, where they hadn’t even waited for the shower to turn hot before starting another round, to finally the bedroom, where there were blankets and bedrolls and little else.

Christen every room, indeed. Iruka thought ruefully, untangling himself from Kakashi with a wince. Last night, this new home had felt strange and foreign. This morning, he couldn't look at a stray corner without blushing and imagining the lewd things that had gone on there. Trust Kakashi to fix yet another problem with his penis.

Iruka stretched as far as his sore muscles would allow. As expected, he was sticky with sweat and other substances and in sore need of some headache medicine. Kakashi made a lonely sound when Iruka crawled out, but then grabbed a pillow to take his place and went right back to sleep, rolling over to sprawl across all of the bedroll and hog the rest of the blanket. With a last, fond glance, Iruka limped to the bathroom.

Five minutes later, he shuffled into the living room, clad in some loose pants and looking for towels to take a shower with, when he found it, tucked in as a bookmark to a volume of Icha Icha.

Immediately, he stormed into the bedroom. “Kakashi!” Iruka roared, kicking at an exposed shoulder. He could feel Kakashi tense, quelling his confused urge for self defense.

“Wha-“

”This.” Iruka brandished the glossy magazine page. It looked like it had been torn out long ago and preserved carefully, with deep creases from having been folded and unfolded many times. On it, of course, was a young man in a waitress apron, splattered with cake frosting.

“In my defense,” Kakashi was trying his damndest to pull off the puppy-eyed look again, but this time it was utterly ineffective. “You never asked.” He reached up and pulled Iruka into his lap, expertly dodging elbows to the face.

“So embarrassing.” Iruka muttered, staring at his younger self. He didn’t remember that he had used a light henge to smooth out his scar, make his features just different enough to be unrecognizable. His face definitely looked more kittenish than he had ever been accused of, his expression mildly freaked out rather than anything close to come-hither. And only the deepest of perverts, Iruka scowled, could find the awkward sprawl of his skinny legs sexy.

“Would it help if I said you were beautiful?” Kakashi offered hopefully, kissing up the back of Iruka’s neck.

“Is that why you kept it for seven years?” Iruka asked lightly, lest the significance of the statement overwhelm him. For all he knew, Kakashi made it a regular practice to use centerfolds as bookmarks.

“Actually, I tore it out two years ago.” Kakashi pressed his lips against the curve of Iruka’s shoulder. “Reminded me of a certain sensei I was lusting after at the time.”

“Don’t try to sweet-talk me.” Iruka lightly slapped him on the bicep. “I have half a mind to tear this up.” He flushed and squinted at the picture. Were his legs shaved?

“Go ahead.”

“What?” Iruka turned, surprised that Kakashi had called his empty threat. Normally he just played along.

“I like last night’s pictures better.” Kakashi laughed, tapping at his Sharingan, making no move to escape when Iruka growled and tackled him to the blankets.

Fic: Centerfold Sensei (Kakashi/Iruka, R)

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