Kakashi doesn't exactly mean to corner him, it's just that ... Well, he has the type of presence that leads to cornering, and Kakashi didnt want to bring it up in public because he's trying not to kick an ant's nest of rumors and speculation, which means he's pulled Gai into a... Corner. Yeah.
At least the noise of the bar is enough to cover their conversation.
"So," he says, keeping any hint of awkwardness out of his voice. His hand falls from where he'd left it on Gai's forearm. "I heard you and Zabuza have been... Sparring. That's nice." Nice hardly begins to cover the broad swathe of emotion he feels at the idea. "Are you, um... Having any thoughts about that?"
Being aware of Kakashi is something Gai simply cannot help. It truly doesn’t matter if Anko has her arm looped around his neck, tugging him down to chug their beers together, or if Kurenai is reluctantly letting him ramble at her the way she tends to. Gai is constantly aware of his rival, hovering at the periphery, just… there, where Gai’s gaze flicks to every so often, and it meets Kakashi’s eye, he thinks, and slides away. Probably doesn’t help that he’s three drinks in, and losing the ability to be subtle about it, based on the squint and smirk Anko’s just shot his way. Can’t help it — never can, when it comes to Kakashi.
Time for a quick break to the washroom, he thinks, when Kakashi ambushes him on the way and pulls him to a corner, and of course his grip is neither too light nor too harsh, just firm enough on his forearm and Gai’s brain is liquid enough for this to make him want to—- he shouldn’t complete that thought.
Thankfully, Kakashi doesn’t leave room for that. He brings in something else, instead, that frankly feels like Kakashi’s taken his baton and struck him on the forehead.
“Zabuza? Uh, y-yeah. Sparring. Uh.” Fuck, he’s a little too tipsy for this conversation. His lips are so dry; he licks them, watches Kakashi’s eye flick to them, and it stalls his brain again. “Thoughts? Really passionate, full of youth — is how I’d describe his combat style, it’s-it’s going pretty—-”
He stops abruptly, and shakes his head with a strangled sigh. He wants to squat on the ground and bury his head in his hands.
This is a very unfair conversation. He hasn’t had time to think it through, and he doesn’t have enough sobriety to wing it.
He only knows that he wants Kakashi’s fingers on his arm again; he only remembers the way Zabuza’s nail had dug into his wrist just a couple days ago, and how Gai had wished he’d pressed hard enough to leave a mark; he remembers how it had felt when Kakashi tugged hard on his hair as he groaned, smothered between his thighs, though the few years it has been feels more like a decade since, and he wonders if now Kakashi sinks his teeth into Zabuza the way he used to do to him.
He should ask Kakashi if he can be a little more specific. Or if he wants to kiss him.
He should ask Kakashi if he misses him.
“Sorry, look—-” Gai steps forward into Kakashi’s space, his hands finding his hips, and the relief of familiarity is almost painful. If Kakashi doesn’t want this, Gai will stop, and he will walk away, and he will go home and take a cold shower and pass out on the cold floor. But he has been spending time with Zabuza, and if Zabuza is right — and Gai has a feeling he knows Kakashi a little better than Gai knows him right now — then…
“Do you want to talk outside?”
