![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vernajastTitle: You Are My Dream
Rating: PG
Squick: none
Spoilers: none, it's a continuation of the piece listed below this one, Miranda's untitled one-shot
Okay, to make up for the angst above, I also wrote this, which is an actual continuation of Miranda's piece. It's an attempt at a happy ending. :)
Miranda's untitled one-shot: An expressive piece, first from Kakashi's POV and then Minato's, in which Minato finds Kakashi dying after what appears to be a mission gone bad. Kakashi's last thought is of Minato kissing him and how he can't feel anything or hear anything. Minato's last thought of the piece is "I love you, Kashi...I love you..." It's beautifully written and this summary does it NO justice, at all.
"I love you Kashi...I love you..."
My hands are trembling as I settle on my knees in the mud beside him. Blood and rain soak into my pants, but I don't care. Kashi...
["--sei..." ]
My overloaded senses detect something just at the ragged edges of my mind, but I ignore it, instead looking down at the still face, the mouth no longer attempting to speak, eyes closed, chest unmoving.
["--ensei!" ]
Of its own accord, my hand seeks his. Somehow they connect. His is cold and limp; I hold it anyway...
"Sensei!"
Blinking away sleep, the Yondaime Hokage sat up, a sharp twinge in his neck complimenting Kakashi's harsh tone.
"You were sleeping, again. And you drooled on the treaty." The blond could swear there was a hint of a smirk behind the words and the younger man's mask. Shocked to find the man who had just died in his arms standing and alive in front of him, he felt the room slant and the world tilt at an unnatural angle. His distress must have been evident as Kakashi was suddenly at his side, hands on the Hokage's upper arms, rubbing away the stress. Grounding. Anchoring. "It's okay, now. You were dreaming. You were mumbling in your sleep...you said..." The silver-haired man blushed, pink powdering his cheeks above the fabric.
"Kashi..."
"Yes, sensei?"
The slip of expectation in Kakashi's simple question floored Minato. His voice didn't want to work. It left him choking on the words, on his own question that could break everything. "What did I say?"
Kakashi's blush deepened to the bright red of a recent sunburn. It looked almost painful and tentative fingers reached out to touch its brightness.
When his sensei's fingers met his skin, Kakashi closed his eyes and let the sensation roll over him. Involuntarily, without coherent thought, he leaned into the touch and the blond jerked his fingers back immediately.
"Are you sure I'm not dreaming, now..." the Hokage whispered, looking up from his seat into the same gray eye he'd seen cloud over and close moments before.
"No. But, does it matter?"
The words came out before he had a chance, a thought, to stop them: "It does if I'm going to wake up tomorrow and you're gone and I've never gotten the chance to tell you how I feel." Minato yanked his hand back and slapped it over his mouth, closing his eyes, scrunching them up as if in agony. Damn it.
A rustling of cloth and metal made him curious enough to open his eyes again, just in time to see Kakashi toss his weathered gloves onto the large wooden desk with a clunk. Pale fingers ghosted over the blond's cheek before two hands cupped his face and gently turned it up to face Kakashi's intense gaze.
The younger man asked, his eye heavy with something indefinable belying the lightness of his voice, "And how do you feel, sensei?" Kakashi held his gaze, lowering himself to the ground between the Yondaime's knees. The chair creaked as Minato wavered between leaning toward his student and backing away.
Now that he was found out, all of the little doubts and worries that had plagued him and held him back from pursuing anything with Kakashi found their way to the front of his mind. Minato cringed at the memory of the vivid dream he'd only just escaped and the utter emptiness he'd felt in the long moments after Kakashi was "gone."
"I..."
Kakashi could see the indecision in the man's blue eyes, no longer bright blue, but a flat, darker parody of themselves. "You're thinking too much, sensei. Show me." He tilted his head forward, silver hair brushing gold as he raised his sensei's chin, and pressed his lips to the man's own. Kakashi noted somewhere in his racing thoughts that it was his first kiss and acknowledged how lucky he was that his first was with the man he'd been in love with for years. It harped on how grateful he should feel, and how patience pays off. Kakashi ignored it, completely caught up in the sensation of Minato's mouth beneath his, responding, opening, admitting that he loved Kakashi. He loves me.
I love him. The blond tried to think, to rise above the waves of emotion crashing over him and find the thread of logic that said it was wrong because he couldn't send Kakashi on missions if he did this, that he would never be able to let the jounin out of his sight again.
Kakashi was a tool of Konoha, not the Hokage's student any longer. Not his lover. Not his.
But after a few failed attempts to grasp at what he knew to be true, Minato gave up. His dream had been too real, too immediate, to ignore. As Hokage and shinobi, master and student, jounin, they had responsibilities to Konoha that couldn't be ignored. Sometimes they forgot that they also had responsibilities as men, as humans, to themselves. Sometimes they forgot to live.
Minato silently promised Kakashi that he would never forget again and tugged his student's vest, pulling him closer.
~ end ~
Rating: PG
Squick: none
Spoilers: none, it's a continuation of the piece listed below this one, Miranda's untitled one-shot
Okay, to make up for the angst above, I also wrote this, which is an actual continuation of Miranda's piece. It's an attempt at a happy ending. :)
Miranda's untitled one-shot: An expressive piece, first from Kakashi's POV and then Minato's, in which Minato finds Kakashi dying after what appears to be a mission gone bad. Kakashi's last thought is of Minato kissing him and how he can't feel anything or hear anything. Minato's last thought of the piece is "I love you, Kashi...I love you..." It's beautifully written and this summary does it NO justice, at all.
"I love you Kashi...I love you..."
My hands are trembling as I settle on my knees in the mud beside him. Blood and rain soak into my pants, but I don't care. Kashi...
["--sei..." ]
My overloaded senses detect something just at the ragged edges of my mind, but I ignore it, instead looking down at the still face, the mouth no longer attempting to speak, eyes closed, chest unmoving.
["--ensei!" ]
Of its own accord, my hand seeks his. Somehow they connect. His is cold and limp; I hold it anyway...
"Sensei!"
Blinking away sleep, the Yondaime Hokage sat up, a sharp twinge in his neck complimenting Kakashi's harsh tone.
"You were sleeping, again. And you drooled on the treaty." The blond could swear there was a hint of a smirk behind the words and the younger man's mask. Shocked to find the man who had just died in his arms standing and alive in front of him, he felt the room slant and the world tilt at an unnatural angle. His distress must have been evident as Kakashi was suddenly at his side, hands on the Hokage's upper arms, rubbing away the stress. Grounding. Anchoring. "It's okay, now. You were dreaming. You were mumbling in your sleep...you said..." The silver-haired man blushed, pink powdering his cheeks above the fabric.
"Kashi..."
"Yes, sensei?"
The slip of expectation in Kakashi's simple question floored Minato. His voice didn't want to work. It left him choking on the words, on his own question that could break everything. "What did I say?"
Kakashi's blush deepened to the bright red of a recent sunburn. It looked almost painful and tentative fingers reached out to touch its brightness.
When his sensei's fingers met his skin, Kakashi closed his eyes and let the sensation roll over him. Involuntarily, without coherent thought, he leaned into the touch and the blond jerked his fingers back immediately.
"Are you sure I'm not dreaming, now..." the Hokage whispered, looking up from his seat into the same gray eye he'd seen cloud over and close moments before.
"No. But, does it matter?"
The words came out before he had a chance, a thought, to stop them: "It does if I'm going to wake up tomorrow and you're gone and I've never gotten the chance to tell you how I feel." Minato yanked his hand back and slapped it over his mouth, closing his eyes, scrunching them up as if in agony. Damn it.
A rustling of cloth and metal made him curious enough to open his eyes again, just in time to see Kakashi toss his weathered gloves onto the large wooden desk with a clunk. Pale fingers ghosted over the blond's cheek before two hands cupped his face and gently turned it up to face Kakashi's intense gaze.
The younger man asked, his eye heavy with something indefinable belying the lightness of his voice, "And how do you feel, sensei?" Kakashi held his gaze, lowering himself to the ground between the Yondaime's knees. The chair creaked as Minato wavered between leaning toward his student and backing away.
Now that he was found out, all of the little doubts and worries that had plagued him and held him back from pursuing anything with Kakashi found their way to the front of his mind. Minato cringed at the memory of the vivid dream he'd only just escaped and the utter emptiness he'd felt in the long moments after Kakashi was "gone."
"I..."
Kakashi could see the indecision in the man's blue eyes, no longer bright blue, but a flat, darker parody of themselves. "You're thinking too much, sensei. Show me." He tilted his head forward, silver hair brushing gold as he raised his sensei's chin, and pressed his lips to the man's own. Kakashi noted somewhere in his racing thoughts that it was his first kiss and acknowledged how lucky he was that his first was with the man he'd been in love with for years. It harped on how grateful he should feel, and how patience pays off. Kakashi ignored it, completely caught up in the sensation of Minato's mouth beneath his, responding, opening, admitting that he loved Kakashi. He loves me.
I love him. The blond tried to think, to rise above the waves of emotion crashing over him and find the thread of logic that said it was wrong because he couldn't send Kakashi on missions if he did this, that he would never be able to let the jounin out of his sight again.
Kakashi was a tool of Konoha, not the Hokage's student any longer. Not his lover. Not his.
But after a few failed attempts to grasp at what he knew to be true, Minato gave up. His dream had been too real, too immediate, to ignore. As Hokage and shinobi, master and student, jounin, they had responsibilities to Konoha that couldn't be ignored. Sometimes they forgot that they also had responsibilities as men, as humans, to themselves. Sometimes they forgot to live.
Minato silently promised Kakashi that he would never forget again and tugged his student's vest, pulling him closer.
~ end ~
