I see your Drabble prompts request and so (you should’ve seen this coming) I have to ask— Kakashi/Shikaku + Lady and the Tramp
no one understands them the way we do. we are also insane btw <3333
here's the rough draft for the series, i cannot look at this anymore right now and survive the day
The shadows leave Kakashi as slowly as they had caught him, lingering in all places they can hide; the bend of his joints, the narrow of his hips, the corners of his eyes. Shikaku exhales as they leave, longing echoing in his lungs far too intently for a man holding what he wants in his hands.
The light in the kitchen window glows gold, adding a gentle warmth to the otherwise dark atmosphere of the backyard. It doesn’t bother them, Kakashi’s and Shikaku’s eyes reflect light, darkness had never caused them any problem before, it wouldn’t start now. The portable radio sits on a stepping stone nearby, static and tinny, but perfect for tonight; perfect for what they need.
Shikaku’s hands linger on Kakashi’s waist, and Kakashi’s fingers curl, dragging a nail against the fabric of Shikaku’s shoulders.
Shikaku grins, too wolfish for his deer nature, and Kakashi laughs, pulling away to dart around the pond, stealing into the shadows. Shikaku knows it for what it is, and Kakashi sees only the shift of movement as the Nara shadows skip to life, pressing around him, and trying to stitch his feet to the grass.
Kakashi barks another laugh, and he flees further, pulling back out into the goldglow of their kitchen. Moonsilver lightens his hair, and lightning sparks in the air around them, the atmosphere charged by his nature.
The shadows follow him into the moonlight, still nipping at his ankles, trying to dig in, to hold him still.
Kakashi and Shikaku share a look, and Shikaku knows by the crinkle of his eye, Kakashi knows by the grin on his face. This is another dance, Kakashi steps and curls around Shikaku’s shadows, and Shikaku herds him, leads him circles around the pond, steps into his own shadows to chase.
Predator shifts to prey as Kakashi flees, lingering just out of reach. Shadows snip and coil, winding and pushing, they’ve done this hundreds of times, Shikaku hopes to do it thousands more, as many times as he can; for as long as he lives.
A sleight of hand has Kakashi jerking from shadows that only lunge to startle, and he retreats back a step, a step too far.
Shikaku catches him, as he always does, as Kakashi always wants him to.
Kakashi is still, held in place by Shikaku’s jutsu, and he watches as Shikaku approaches, exact and precises, as a deer always steps.
Kakashi’s breath catches in his throat for a moment, before he forces an exhale, forces him to remain calm as Shikaku rounds the pond, comes to stand before him. Kakashi shivers, be it the cold ink of shade or the easy breeze of night, Shikaku would not be so bold to consider his closeness a factor. He would like it to be, oh how he would like it to be.
The music reaches a crescendo on the radio, neither spare it a glance, but Shikaku smiles, and Kakashi huffs, still pleased in his defeat. Shadow lifts Kakashi’s hand, and Shikaku reaches out with his own, clasping their hands together and pressing his fingers in the spaces between Kakashi’s own. His hand is a contrast to Kakashi’s own, the pale whispers of lightning jag up from his hands far past where the sleeves of his sleep shirt hide them from sight.
The shadows leave Kakashi as slowly as they had caught him, lingering in all places they can hide; the bend of his joints, the narrow of his hips, the corners of his eyes. Shikaku exhales as they leave, longing echoing in his lungs far too intently for a man holding what he wants in his hands.
“Dance with me?” Shikaku asks, tilting his head. Kakashi smiles, dips his head in a slow nod, squeezes his hand in Shikaku’s own. Shikaku breathes, breathes as he draws Kakashi closer.
Kakashi slots against him like he was made solely to exist in that space, and the music continues as they find their footing, as they find their grip, as they dance slow circles around the pond. Shikaku steps as he always does, bid by his nature, while Kakashi follows, captivated by his own.
Kakashi presses closer, lips parted under his mask, the fabric preventing his teeth from being able to snap. The desire to bite is there, to draw blood and taste, to lave his tongue where Shikaku’s sweat lingers on his skin.
He doesn’t, not now, but he has, and he will.
Shikaku hums, low and easy in Kakashi’s ear, and Kakashi sighs, nuzzles closer, tucks his nose into Shikaku’s loose hair. The female singer serenades low and sweet, coming to a quiet end. The music continues for a time still, brass and strings echoing as they fade out, timeless in the dark of night; they sway to it all the while.
The radio announcer’s voice chimes in, brief as they introduce the next song, and they still as it begins, waiting.
The orchestra begins, stringing quickly to begin, and the two of them pull apart just enough to share a smile as “Bella Notte” announces its arrival.
Their dancing picks up again to swing with the music, Kakashi’s free hand roams where he holds onto Shikaku, letting himself be pulled and guided. The sound of the night adds it’s own background, and together they lose themselves to it, to the moment.
So take the love of your loved one You'll need it about this time
The moon is high, Kakashi is in his arms, warm in his embrace, and the night is theirs and theirs alone. The moonlight catches on Kakashi’s eyelashes, wavers in his hair, and Shikaku looks to him, drinks in his expression.
To keep from falling like a star When you make that dizzy climb
The radio serenades, and Shikaku knows that dizzy climb intimately, knew it with every step as he made his way towards his and Kakashi’s inevitability, from that first night together, to every night spend side by side afterwards. From the moment their dalliances had stepped cautiously into the light, when Kakashi had trusted him enough to stay.
Kakashi’s hands come up to cup his face, fingers tracing the scars of his face, Shikaku grips his waist a bit tighter, aches to cling to him endlessly. Shikaku breathes, and Kakashi tilts his head, angles as Shikaku’s eyes are drawn to where he knows his lips to be.
For this is the night And the heavens are right
Kakashi blinks, slow and at ease. Shikaku knows. One hand leaves Kakashi’s hip to grip his mask, equally slow as he pulls the fabric down. Kakashi lets him, wants him. Shikaku needs no further prompting, Kakashi deserves no further hesitation.
Shikaku kisses him, draws his lover close to share their body’s heat. Kakashi sighs into the kiss, longing finally appeased as he wraps his arms around Shikaku’s neck. Shikaku wraps his arms around Kakashi’s waist, takes what Kakashi so willingly gives.
The moon is high, Kakashi is in his embrace, his lips taste of the sake they shared at dinner, the dinner Kakashi made for him. This is the night, their night, and the deer dips to devour the wolf, on this lovely bella notte.
