Ship: Kakashi Hatake x Obito Uchiha

Genres: Slice of Life – Romance – Fluffy / One-shot

Rating: +8

Summary: Today was the big day. Or rather, the first in a long line of them. The big day that would turn Obito’s life upside down.

For the better.

Enjoy!

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How low the ground felt, thought Kakashi.

He slumped heavily to the ground, letting out a sigh.

When he’d been offered early graduation, almost a lifetime ago, when his intelligence and insight had been praised, none of those self-righteous adults had thought to share a crucial piece of information with him: child prodigies age badly.

His joints wrung out little cries of pain, swollen on rainy days.

Old wounds, poorly healed scars, tugged, strangely creasing his skin.

Deprivation, poor sleep, years of paranoia, had frayed his nerves, his brain and his health.

Shinobi aged badly.

Shinobi prodigies aged even worse.

Well, if they were given the time, of course.

Lying on his back, he gazed thoughtfully at the sky, squinting against the sun.

« You’re going to get wrinkles. »

« I already have wrinkles, I might point out. »

« Oh really? To me, you still look thirty-four. »

The light tone of the joke no longer stung him like acid. He’d made peace years ago with the fact that he couldn’t control everything.

And certainly not his husband and his impulsive actions.

So, instead, he reached out to take his hand and guide him to sit beside him.

Bull, freed from his role as a guide dog, went to settle himself in the sun, delighted by the opportunity.

Obito smiled as he surrendered to his husband’s embrace, lying down on top of him.

Running his fingers over his clothes, he followed the contours to Kakashi’s face, which he caressed tenderly.

« Oh, indeed, you look just as rumpled as good old Bull! I did tell you not to stay in the bath for so long. »

As amused as he was exasperated by his nonsense, Kakashi simply pulled him in for a kiss. And tugged at a stray strand of hair before smoothing it down.

« Don’t insult my dogs. »

« They weren’t the ones I was aiming at, » he hummed.

They bickered gently before settling down comfortably, entwined.

Obito listened absently to his companion’s heartbeat beneath him, lulled by its steady rhythm.

He, too, bore the marks of the passing of time, though he was no longer a full witness to it.

His bones had grown brittle; the flamboyant use of the Katon to which he had become accustomed in his younger days had numbed some of the nerves responsible for touch – which might not have been a great deal, but since he had sacrificed his sight for one last Kamui…

The combination of the two had been their signal to stop, each filling in the paperwork to be removed from active duty without consulting the other.

Of course, they went to hand it in at the same time, which must have given Iruka a good laugh, as he was on duty that day.

Their argument that day had been memorable, both for its intensity and for the feelings that were – at last – laid bare through the exercise.

But their subsequent reconciliation, once they were back home, had been even more glorious.

Neither of them had forgotten the other’s confession of love, and they spent the evening in each other’s arms, exploring those feelings, sobbing and kissing.

They had finally fallen asleep on the sofa just before dawn, and had woken up aching and stiff, their bodies covered by a blanket kindly draped over them by Urushi.

(He was still holding it in his mouth, dozing with them on the sofa.)

Thirty-four was a peculiar age to be forced into retirement. They still had many years ahead of them, yet they knew nothing but being shinobi.

Others before and after them would have time to ponder the question; they had to put it aside for the first few months, focused on modifying the house so that Obito could move about without risking the loss of what remained of his limbs.

The initiative was all the more welcomed when Gai found himself in a wheelchair, their friend declaring with his usual emphasis that it was the best spot in Konoha!

When Kakashi was fairly satisfied with the result, he turned his attention to the next problem, which was his husband’s general mobility outside.

The walking stick had been very hard on his Uchiha pride, and most of the locals still didn’t seem to understand how to behave around him.

They had tried to hone his chakra control to the point where he could use it to move about, much like sonar, but Obito had never been particularly brilliant in that area and the experiments were a failure.

Bitterly – and not for the first time – Kakashi regretted that their roles were not reversed.

Admittedly, his reserves were more limited, but his manipulation was efficient and almost surgical.

He should have taken that hit… It was meant for him…

It was around that time that Bull appeared, offering to guide his pack leader’s companion wherever he wanted and for as long as he wished.

Initially sceptical, the pair had quickly changed their minds and recognised the effectiveness of the partnership.

Whilst the locals might have pretended not to see the cane or not to realise they needed to clear the way, they could hardly make the same excuse when faced with the enormous bulldog, who didn’t hesitate to growl if people took too long to react.

Of course, he wouldn’t harm them: he wasn’t just a dog, but a ninken with a long life behind him and perfectly capable of distinguishing between situations requiring lethal force and those where a mere threat would suffice.

Quite simply, he was protective of his contractor. And as this was his contractor’s companion, that protection extended to him.

Simple, isn’t it?

And so, with his freedom of movement more or less restored, Obito’s mood lightened, and, by extension, Kakashi’s too.

It wasn’t ideal either, but they’d grown up through a war, they’d risked their lives on more than one occasion and had had to fight for their relationship.

They’d seen worse, they’d hung on, they’d survived.

And they’d do it all again.

« Akino’s wrecked my vegetable patch again, » sighed Obito.

« Much damage? »

« We’ll have to go to the market again, » he said, changing the subject.

Feeling guilty, Kakashi kissed him on the forehead, his fingers sliding through the white strands of hair.

« Sorry, I never thought he’d take such a liking to digging tunnels when I taught him. »

His eyelids drooping, he muttered indistinctly at him.

« It’s not your fault, » he finally grumbled. « It’s Akino’s for thinking he’s some sort of oversized mole. »

Turning away from his husband, he swept his arm in a wide arc, encompassing the vast garden and the clan’s hunting grounds.

« As if he lacked choice and space! »

He turned back, facing Kakashi once more, this time jabbing his index finger into his chest, repeatedly.

« On the other hand, it’s your fault he keeps targeting my vegetable patch instead of digging his tunnels anywhere else! You’re too nice to them! »

It was hard to argue otherwise, and even harder with him, so Kakashi simply pouted.

With anyone else, he would surely have defended himself, but with his husband, it was a lost cause.

« If you don’t speak to him… No more aubergines for you! »

The threat was real. A shiver of fear ran down his spine as he sat up in turn, gaping.

« You wouldn’t dare… » he almost whimpered.

But Obito was an Uchiha. He would be perfectly capable of following through, if only out of sheer stubbornness.

So, he gave in with a sigh, resting his forehead on Kakashi’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around him.

« I’ll take care of it, » he mumbled.

« Perfect. »

Satisfied, he stretched them out again in the same position, smiling as their hands intertwined and Kakashi’s fingers caressed his own and his palms.

He did so with a kind of reverence, brushing against the burns, tracing the cracks, running his fingers along each finger to the nail before moving on to the next, as if counting them, as if to check that everything was there.

Naturally, with such diligence, he eventually discovered the small blister that was there.

He lifted the damaged hand, turning it in the light, no doubt to examine it.

« It’s fine, it’s nothing, » Obito whispered.

He felt like sleeping, between the warmth of the sun, the embrace and the caresses.

« Can you believe it? » he chuckled weakly. « Over twenty years of throwing kunai and shuriken, and simple gardening tools wound me. I’ve always been a fraud! »

His hoarse laughter turned to hiccups as Kakashi didn’t reply, instead bringing his injured hands to his lips and pressing delicate kisses upon them.

« Stop it, you’re being ridiculous… »

These tender moments, this affectionate intimacy, were what made him regret the loss of his sight the most.

At least he’d caught glimpses of his husband’s entire face before total darkness fell, cherishing the image as much as he could.

He was aware that the fair skin was no longer as supple and soft as in their younger years. His failing senses still allowed him to map his lover’s body, like a familiar, ever-changing world.

Obito knew of the muscles melting away as training routines changed and adapted. The skin wrinkling, the hair thinning, the painful mornings…

But he could only imagine, trying to reconcile the Kakashi in his kuro-montsuki-bakama on their wedding day with the man standing beside him, in his perpetual darkness.

He was just as curious about his own body, feeling it intimately, of course, but unable to visualise what it looked like either.

His husband had told him that his hair was white now. The image made him laugh, imagining the two of them wandering about with their hair looking alike, two tufts as white as a pair of dandelions.

He sometimes liked to share this thought with his husband, rambling on about it without him ever stopping him.

Kakashi could spend hours doing this, listening to him without interrupting, sometimes prompting him when he tried to hold back, to give him space.

One day, he had asked him about it. It had taken a great deal of persuasion and promises to coax the reason out of him. Even more than the subjects of his verbal ramblings or the sound of his voice, Kakashi simply loved observing the expressions he wore, his face coming alive with the words he spoke.

That confession had been cute and very embarrassing.

« Stop kissing my hands, » Obito grumbled. « And go and sort out Akino before I officially decide to destroy the surviving aubergine plants. »

With his palms pressed against his lips, he had no trouble sensing his pout before he let him go.

They parted ways, Kakashi going to find the dissident dog and Obito crawling over to Bull, leaning against him to continue basking in the sun.

« Nice bit of blackmail, » said Bisuke.

He sniffed the air for a moment before going to sit on the lap of the former shinobi, who immediately found the spot requiring special attention from his fingers, prompting an automatic reaction from his hind leg, which flailed frantically in the air.

It didn’t take long before Obito had a languid ninken on his thighs, whilst Bull dozed peacefully, not the least bit jealous.

The advantage of having a mated summoner was that it allowed for more cuddles and having your favourite.

It was therefore no surprise to find Kakashi besieged by Pakkun and Akino.

« So, what about those aubergines? » his husband asked.

« I’m in the middle of negotiations. »

« A bit further to the left, » the dog wiggled.

From the rhythmic sound, it was easy to imagine him wriggling on the tatami mats, his tail wagging vigorously.

With one hand on Bull’s withers and a smile on his lips, Obito moved cautiously through their home.

Despite the ramps and other aids, he enjoyed the warm skin beneath his own, the short fur and the feel of the muscles rippling beneath his skin.

He had been using this method for so many years that he and the dog moved almost in perfect harmony, hardly needing to communicate to navigate.

Whenever they went out, the children would rush to meet them, whilst keeping a respectful distance, having learnt not to get in the old man’s way or to stroke the big dog that accompanied him.

They would sometimes follow them and jump on Bull as soon as Obito let him go, a sign that the ninken was no longer on duty to assist him.

And so, the little rascals would rush over, squealing, swamping him as he rolled over contentedly onto his back.

Every time that happened and he let out that very distinctive sound of satisfaction, Obito would smile, amused and touched.

With their retirement, the Trackers’ Squad found themselves out of work as well.

Of course, Kakashi didn’t summon them constantly under normal circumstances, but when he did, it was for missions: tracking down fugitives, delivering important messages, that sort of thing.

But they found themselves recruited to test the house and the adaptation work, looking after the new blind man throughout his convalescence, amongst other things.

Frankly, Kakashi had expected Pakkun to pounce on him at any moment to demand the termination of their contract.

And yet, here they were, twenty years later, still on duty, seemingly enjoying the transition from formidable trackers to mere companion dogs, whose biggest adrenaline rush must be bath day.

And speaking of baths, Obito had just turned off the tap, patting Bull as he went to attend to his business.

Immediately, his hands grasped the plastic cane kept by the door, allowing him to manoeuvre across the tiled floor.

A control freak and a neat freak, Kakashi had been all the more careful to ensure nothing was left lying about and that everything was in its place since his return from hospital, and, as much as it annoyed him, knowing he was safe in such a slippery place was a blessing.

He’d like to say that, since then, he’d been going into the bathroom with his eyes closed, but given that it wouldn’t make any difference to his eyesight…

Chuckling stupidly, he made his way across the floor, sweeping the ground with the blunt end of his cane, just to be on the safe side.

Behind the door, he knew Bull had settled in comfortably, waiting for his return, when he would swap the piece of plastic for his assistant and they would head to the kitchen to join Kakashi and the rest of the pack.

« It’s treatment time, » Obito announced, jingling the first-aid kit.

A few grunts answered him, but those concerned knew it was a lost cause, especially when their handler shot them a stern look, whilst his companion carefully laid out the contents of the kit.

« Any volunteers? » he hummed.

The bandages worn by Ūhei and Shiba were for chronic skin conditions that needed frequent monitoring; Guruko and Akino needed eye drops; and Urushi had recently stepped on a splinter.

Of course, it was Kakashi who was in charge of all the care, his husband content to simply look handsome by his side, which suited them both perfectly, especially when Pakkun deigned to come down from his makeshift perch and let him massage his paw pads whilst waiting for the patients to be carefully treated.

As any fuss was discouraged following these treatments, the little troupe often moved into the living room where, regardless of their initial activities, they invariably ended up napping, piled on top of one another.

It was fine when they were young, but it was becoming increasingly painful upon waking, especially when sleep had overtaken them in an uncomfortable position.

Take Urushi, for instance, curled up in a ball on his chest, reducing his lung capacity by his weight alone. Or Shiba, who’d managed to push him in the pelvic area, forcing him to turn slightly and thus twisting his spine – which was far from appreciated, given how his skeleton was screaming at him.

« Kashi? » he gasped with difficulty.

A mumble came in reply, confirming he was awake.

« Help… »

But all he got was a hand in his, signalling that the former jōnin was hardly better off, having surely been the target of the six missing dogs.

And being the two soft-hearted fools that they were, neither of them tried to wake any of the ninken or even move them.

« We’re going to suffer so much, » Obito whinged feigningly.

His husband signalled his agreement with a firmer grip on his hand.

Frankly, as clever as they might be, those eight rascals knew perfectly well how to play the fools and take advantage of their situation, often settling without remorse on top of or beside them, just enough to disturb their human target, without it seeming obvious or deliberate.

True geniuses of evil…

And yet, despite the pain felt in every part of their bodies, despite Pakkun sprawled across Kakashi’s face, despite Urushi draining the air from Obito’s lungs, despite the horrifying prospect of the hell that awaited them when they had to get up after an hour’s nap on the tatami, besieged by affectionate dogs with no respect for personal space, the couple smiled, each on their own, their grip tightening on the other’s hand as they drifted peacefully.

They had long since outlived their life’s experience, had buried family and friends, had tasted decades of peace as previous generations had dreamed of, their students had taught their own students.

They had created their own little haven, their close-knit family.

When they looked back, they had their ‘what ifs’, of course, but they also knew that all they had to do was reach out to take the other’s hand, to reassure themselves that it had all been worth it.

For that tender smile, for those loving eyes, for that constant presence, that warm shadow.

For that future together, no matter the obstacles or sacrifices.

For those two aching wrecks dragging their feet, for those days of bad moods that cast a shadow over everything, for those moments of solitude or those needs we struggle to put into words.

For those sunny afternoons spent sleeping on the floor, overwhelmed by eight ninken invading and making their general condition even worse.

It was worth it.