Chapter Text
Despite any misgivings Iruka might have had with regards to the bath, Kakashi was able to dispel them with alacrity. He helped Iruka into the bath with surprising gentleness, easing him in slowly, checking to make sure the water wasn’t too hot or too cool. Once in the bath, Kakashi slipped in behind him, easing his own body into the water before drawing Iruka close, giving him no choice but to lean against his muscular torso.
For a minute, Iruka felt concern poking him - or perhaps it was just the sensation of obvious interest from his husband - but Kakashi made no mention of it, nor did he complain about Iruka’s unwillingness to lie back and do his marital duties. Instead, the man took a small dipper from beside the bath, scooping some warm water from the tub and carefully wetting Iruka’s hair, using his hand to guide the water down his scalp, away from his eyes and nose. Iruka was grateful for this, as he’d stopped swimming with Mizuki after one too many dunks under the water, heart pounding in his chest, dots swimming in his vision, fearing that his adopted brother wouldn’t allow him to surface before he drowned. Water had become a frightening thing in those days, and he hoped they were well behind him now.
If he’d been asked before this moment, Iruka would have assumed that bathing with another person would leave him immobilized with fear, but the utter gentleness in every motion from Kakashi allowed Iruka to feel safe and comfortable in his arms, even when he had total control over Iruka in a basin of water. Iruka’s back still hurt too badly for him to make any move to escape the tub, and so he was left totally helpless in the arms of his husband. To his utter relief, Kakashi did not seem inclined to respond inappropriately or take advantage of Iruka’s weakened state.
Once Iruka’s hair was wet, Kakashi lathered some soap in his hands, running his fingers through Iruka’s long hair. The soap had a light fragrance to it, something a bit warm and soft like cinnamon or ginger. As Kakashi worked his fingers down from Iruka’s scalp, detangling Iruka’s limp, wet locks, he seemed totally focused on the task, saying nothing. At one point, when his fingers had combed through Iruka’s hair a few times, he curled his fingers deep into Iruka’s hair at the top of his scalp, making a noise low in his throat. It sounded a bit like a grumble, or maybe a growl , and Iruka felt sorry for having such tangled messy hair. Surely it was inconvenient for Kakashi to take so long working his fingers through the knots.
“Sorry,” he apologized, “I should have brushed it more this morning.”
“Never you mind,” Kakashi said, his voice rumbling in his chest. Iruka was leaned up against that broad chest while Kakashi’s fingers carded through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with every pass. It tingled against his skin all down his head, neck, and shoulders, but not painfully. These pricles were nothing like the sparks of pain that the twist in his back sometimes produced in his extremities. Rather, it was a soothing sensation, and it made his eyes drift halfway shut without any input from his own mind, the soothing motion making him feel like he was almost ready to sleep. Even the lingering pain in his back wasn’t enough to disrupt the moment completely.
Once he had fully lathered Iruka’s hair, Kakashi carefully rinsed away the soap, and then applied a sweet-smelling oil that seemed reminiscent of almonds to Iruka's hair before carefully leaning out of the bath and picking up a small towel, wrapping Iruka’s hair in it. He stayed in the bath, though, stretching out to take up a washcloth and applying some of the same soap he’d used on Iruka’s hair before carefully resting the sudsy cloth on Iruka’s chest.
“May I?” he asked.
Iruka wanted to agree - wanted to be touched - but he was afraid that moving his arms or legs might set his back to spasming once more. “Please be careful,” he said, which was a form of permission that he was willing to allow.
“I will,” Kakashi promised, and began to run the washcloth in small circles over Iruka’s chest and arms, being careful not to move too quickly. When he tried to lean Iruka forward - likely aiming to wash his back - Iruka sucked in a breath sharply, feeling the pull in his hips and his lower back very strongly. Kakashi froze immediately. “All right?” he asked.
“Maybe not,” Iruka confessed. “Leaning is… not…” He wasn’t sure what to say, and felt his face grow hot from embarrassment. He hoped he could blame the flush on the hot water, but doubted sincerely that Kakashi would believe him. “It isn’t…” he tried again, “...it’s not ideal,” he finally said.
“It hurts?” Kakashi asked, easing Iruka back until he was once more resting against Kaakshi’s chest.
“Less, in this position,” Iruka said, aiming for reassuring but afraid that he just sounded worn and anguished.
“All right,” Kakashi said, and resumed the gentle scrubbing with the washcloth, reaching below the surface of the water, spreading the cloth down Iruka’s belly.
Iruka felt the heat pooling down there, and he fought to maintain his composure. “Um,” he said, a bit urgently.
Kakashi paused again. “Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No, but, I…” Iruka wasn’t sure how to explain that he wasn’t able to perform his marital duties in his condition. He didn’t want to disappoint his husband. Worse, he felt as though he was disappointing himself, too. He wanted to be able to share the marital bed, and it was deeply frustrating that he couldn’t forget the pain in his body long enough to relax and allow himself to feel pleasure. “I can’t…”
“That’s all right,” Kakashi said, resuming the gentle scrubbing motion, “tell me if it hurts, and don’t worry about the rest of it.”
Iruka could feel the man’s unabated hardness still pressed against the small of his back, and swallowed back a whine. Instead, he just said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Kakashi murmured, his voice low in Iruka’s ear as his hands strayed deeper beneath the surface of the bath. “Try to relax.”
That was almost impossible to accomplish with the man’s questing hands moving lower and lower on Iruka’s body. Kakashi didn’t seem to be trying anything more than just washing him, though. His touch was gentle and attentive, but not demanding. He washed as much of Iruka’s body as he could with the cloth, then leaned back agains the side of the tub once more, urging Iruka to lean back and recline against him once more.
“I wish…” Iruka began, but felt foolish even trying to say what he wanted. I wish I could be better, he wanted to say. I wish I weren’t so weak, so useless. I wish I was the sort of husband a man like you deserves.
“What is it you wish?” Kakashi asked, his voice low and husky, his arms tightening slightly around Iruka’s shoulders. “Anything you ask, it’s yours.”
Iruka couldn’t bring himself to answer, so instead, he just said, “I wish I could return the favor.” He indicated the washcloth with a careful hand, hating the way his fingers still trembled with aftershocks of pain.
Kakashi made an almost-pained sound low in his throat, and said, his voice deep and growly, “Maybe next time.”
“Maybe,” Iruka agreed.
After a few more minutes of soaking, Iruka noticed that the water was starting to get cold. Then, moments later, Kakashi lifted himself out of the tub, not even bothering to wrap a towel around his waist, leaving every inch of his delicious body on display as he reached into the bath to cautiously lift Iruka up from the lukewarm water. Once Iruka was up in his arms, he carried him to a small stool, and carefully set him down. “Can you sit?” he asked.
“Maybe,” Iruka said, and gritted his teeth as Kakashi stepped away, leaving him to support his body with his own admittedly fast-dwindling strength. His back seemed a little better, so long as he kept his breaths shallow and didn’t move at all.
Kakashi was back a moment later with a soft towel, which he used to begin drying Iruka’s body. He brought some warm bedclothes for Iruka after that, and helped him pull them on. Through the entire process, he was very, very naked, and it was extremely distracting. Iruka tried very hard not to stare at the man’s war-hardened body, but it was difficult not to get an eyeful. Still, with some perseverance, Iruka managed to survive the encounter with most of his dignity intact. Kakashi bundled him onto the bed after that, and tucked the furs up around him before finally pulling on his pants and grumbling something about physicians and sorcerers taking their sweet time.
“I’ll see what’s keeping Genma,” Kakashi growled, and yanked open the door. He’d made it what sounded to be three steps down the rough stone hallway before Iruka heard him draw to a halt, and then say, in a loud voice, “Genma! You lazy ass! What took you so long?”
In reply, Iruka could hear Genma saying, “I’m not a f*cking cleric, Lord Hatake. I’m a damn sorcerer, I make things explode, I can’t fix aches and pains on the fly.” As he continued complaining, Iruka could hear his footsteps now, nearing the door. “I’m not going in without doing a bit of research to make sure I don’t make it worse!” With that, Genma pushed his way into the bedroom, with Kakashi hot on his heels, scowling at the sorcerer with obvious annoyance.
“Fine, whatever,” Kakashi growled. “Do you have something for the pain now?”
“I did a bit of research,” Genma said, “and I was able to scrape together a pain salve.” He withdrew a small jar from one of his pockets with an unnecessary and overly-dramatic flourish. He glanced at Iruka, and his face grew serious. “Oh dear,” he said. “You do seem rather peaked. Is the pain that bad?”
“I can’t really move,” Iruka admitted sheepishly.
“That sounds frankly unbearable,” Genma said, and handed the jar to Kakashi. “I suppose you’ll be doing the application, then, if he can’t move enough to apply the stuff himself.”
Kakashi eyed the jar thoughtfully. “So I just spread it over whatever hurts?”
“Yes,” Genma said. “I infused it with enough mana that even a small bit should work for quite a large area. The jar should last you a few days, maybe as long as a week. So don’t waste it all tonight,” he finished, giving Kakashi a sharp look.
Kakashi bristled a bit, as if he was taking personal offense to the idea that he might waste all of the contents of the jar in one application. “Understood.” He moved back across the room, holding the door open. “You can go, now.”
Genma sighed. “You’re welcome,” he said pointedly.
“You’ll have your thanks upon confirmation that the treatment works,” Kakashi barked. “Now get out.”
Genma rolled his eyes, casting a momentary glance in Iruka’s direction as if to say you see what I have to deal with? before making his way to the door. “For what it’s worth, I hope you feel better,” he told Iruka,turning around to wave at him in the doorway.
“Thank you,” Iruka said from his fur-swaddled spot on the bed.
“f*cking leave,” Kakashi snapped, and bodily shoved Genma out the door before slamming it behind him. He sighed. “I swear that man couldn’t take a hint if his life depended on it.”
Iruka half wanted to laugh, but worried that Kakashi might take it the wrong way. “I’m grateful for his help, at least,” he said.
“I’ll hold my gratitude until I see results,” Kakashi muttered, and moved back across the room to Iruka’s side. “I’ll roll you over,” he said. “Tell me where on your back you need the salve and I’ll take it from there.”
“My lower back, mostly,” Iruka said, “and my hips, and it radiates up through my backbone.”
“All of that?” Kakashi asked, sounding concerned. His gentle hands were back, carefully pulling away the furs he’d tucked Iruka under. He turned Iruka on his side, moving slowly. It still hurt, his weight shifting as Kakashi turned him over. But a moment later, Iruka felt two fingers press into the small of his back, a pungent herby scent overwhelming whatever gentle fragrance had been in the soap. The salve was cool, but then as Kakashi spread it over his back, it felt as though it warmed against his skin. The warmth seemed to sink into his bones, while the coolness seemed to soothe the rage of pain that prickled over his skin. The effect was nearly immediate, and Iruka could feel his entire body begin to relax as the pain finally began to subside.
Clearly, he wasn’t the only one to notice how well the salve was working, because Kakashi muttered, “I guess I owe Genma some thanks.”
“It’s much better now,” Iruka agreed, and felt a wave of exhaustion come over him as the absence of pain allowed him to sink comfortably into the soft bed. “Thank you,” he added, “for the bath, and for the medicine, and…” he couldn’t think of what else he had to be thankful for, but was certain there was more to it. His mind felt fuzzy with tiredness, though, and he couldn’t be bothered to figure out exactly what else to say.
“That’s all right,” Kakashi said, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I’m feeling good,” Iruka said, because somehow it felt important to specify that he was feeling so much more than better. Better was a relative term. But good meant more, it meant that things weren’t bad. There were better and worse ways to still feel awful. But now he didn’t feel awful at all. And he was so glad.
“All right,” Kakashi agreed, huffing with amusem*nt, “I’m glad you’re feeling good, then.”
Iruka hummed in acknowledgement, feeling Kakashi’s fingers kneading lightly into his back muscles. He wanted to say something about how nice it felt, but his lips and tongue felt heavy, his eyelids drooping against his will.
“Are you falling asleep on me?” Kakashi asked, his voice sounding far away.
Iruka tried to answer, but couldn’t seem to remember how. Then, he drifted away completely.
The next morning, Iruka awoke to soft beams of sunlight peering in through the sheer curtains of the canopied bed. He felt whole and at peace and so very relaxed that it took him several minutes to remember that he’d been in agony the night before. And then, oh…
He’d fallen asleep, right when Kakashi had asked if he was falling asleep, too! It was a bit embarrassing to remember, but Iruka felt his cheeks heat with an odd mixture of shame and delight. Kakashi’s hands had been so gentle, his voice so soft and soothing… he’d been lulled to sleep, not only by the relief of his pain, but by the warmth of the man at his side.
Turning cautiously, Iruka eased himself out of bed, noting that his body seemed less stiff now than it had been before his long journey to Erebos even began. Perhaps even before that!
A quick glance around the room showed Iruka that Kakashi was long gone; the man had always been quick to rise on their journey, too, but Iruka had selfishly hoped to wake up beside him in the morning, had wanted to show his gratitude… He clapped his hands to his cheeks, trying to reign in his wayward thoughts. Just because he’d felt his husband’s interest in the bath, had appreciated the feel of his hands, kneading against the stiff muscles of his back, that didn’t mean that Kakashi wanted Iruka to throw himself at him like some sort of loose-moraled man with an excess of craven desires. He’d already accused Iruka of wantonness and wandering from the confines of his marriage. Surely behavior like that would simply confirm his suspicions! Then again, Kakashi was his husband, so surely it was reasonable, even encouraged to want…
Iruka shook his head to disrupt the wayward trail his mind was taking. He could worry about all of that later. For now, he needed to get dressed. And he sincerely doubted he’d be able to lace up his back brace on his own. He supposed calling a servant was in order. But he wasn’t entirely sure how to do that, or if Kakashi would even approve. Iruka had been assigned a few personal attendants when he’d lived in the Shimura household, and they’d been awful to him. But at least they’d helped him get dressed. He supposed Erebos couldn’t be much worse, even if it seemed like everyone except Kakashi hated him. He had no doubts that the rumors the knights were likely to spread would poison the minds and hearts of the people against him, but there was nothing to be done for it. He would simply endure, as he always did.
He moved carefully, not wanting to accidentally reawaken the injury that had immobilized him the night before. Noting one of the trunks that looked similar to the ones carried by the carts in their caravan, Iruka risked lifting the lid, and was rewarded with the sight of various colorful clothes. He inspected the lot of it, then turned to the wardrobe, half expecting it to be full of Kakashi’s shirts. The first one was clearly Kakashi’s, as all the clothes were significantly bigger than would comfortably fit someone like Iruka, who had spent most of his life locked up and bedridden. The second wardrobe, though, had a wide assortment of beautiful coats, waistcoats, and other articles of clothing hanging from the rack. It was fit to burst with all the clothes inside it. After some contemplating, Iruka withdrew a golden yellow coat that gleamed as bright and cheerfully as the sun that peered in the large glass windows (and what an incredible luxury, to have glass in his own room! He’d spent so long living in dim, candlelit rooms at the Shimura castle, the gloom and lack of sunlight sometimes sending him spiraling into depression. To have his own room full of the soft warm glow was a delight and something he tried to remind himself not to grow accustomed to. He had no idea if Kakashi wanted them to share rooms. For all he knew, this was Kakashi’s room, and Iruka would be sent away to his own room later. His adoptive father had never provided him with much more than a bed and four walls, it would be selfish to expect more from his husband.
Still, Iruka gently brushed his fingers down the soft golden silk, a smile plying at his lips despite his effort to hide the reaction, everything in this room was beautiful, and he felt inclined to at least experience what he could before Kakashi came to his senses and sent him away. Once he’d settled on the golden coat, it was little trouble to select a pale bronze waistcoat and yellow hose. There was a soft linen tunic of pale yellow in the smalls as well, which Iruka thought would pair nicely with the rest. The colors weren’t the same, but they all complemented each other well enough. He hoped they would suit his own warmer-toned coloring, and tugged anxiously at his hair, surprised to see that it still felt soft and supple after the oils that Kakashi had worked through it in the bath.
Iruka started with the clothes he knew he could put on himself, pulling on the hose and long tunic, moving slowly and carefully. Once that was done, he found himself in a bit of a bind. He needed to lace up the waistcoat before putting on the golden overcoat, but he couldn’t lace himself up - mayhe, if his back weren’t in such a state, he might be able to. But in his current condition, he didn’t want to risk the sorts of twisting and tugging he’d need to do to dress himself.
Just as he was working himself into a mild panic, there was a soft knock at the door.
Turning to look at it, feeling like a deer caught in the stare of a direwolf, Iruka said softly, “Uh… come in?”
The door swung open, and a golden ball of human chaos careened into the room. “Good morning, sir!” the young man nigh-shouted, scrambling over to the fireplace and beginning to cheerily scoop out the ashes into a bucket. “How are you today?”
“I’m well, thank you…?” Iruka said, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer volume and energy of the young man.
“You can call me Naruto!” the boy practically shouted, finishing with the ashes and setting the bucket aside before unloading a small armload of wood into the fireplace. “Are you cold? I can get the fire going again.”
“I’m fine,” Iruka said, and was surprised to realize he was. The room was well insulated, and the bed had been comfortable, too. It was the first time in ages that he hadn’t shivered himself to sleep on the cold hard ground. Maybe that had something to do with why he felt so much better, beyond even that which magic could explain. “Oh, but-” he felt his face heat, “I do need someone to help lace up my waistcoat?”
“I can do that!” The boy exclaimed, jumping up. He took a step towards Iruka, who took a step back.
“Ah,” Iruka said, not wanting to be rude, but also afraid of damaging the very expensive and beautiful clothes. “Maybe wash your hands first…?”
“Oh yeah!” The boy laughed, scrubbing at the back of his head, leaving soot-marks in his hair. “It would be pretty bad to mess up such pretty things, huh?”
At least he didn’t seem to take offense. He also didn’t seem to hate Iruka, which was a relief as well. “I guess so,” Iruka agreed, feeling himself begin to smile despite himself. The boy’s joy was contagious, and Iruka was beginning to feel hopeful for the rest of the day to come.
The boy proceeded to wash his hands vigorously with the bar of soap next to the water basin, until his hands came out lightly pink from all the scrubbing, and not a speck of ash or soot to be seen. He wiped his hands on a towel that was laid beside the basin, and Iruka realized, belatedly, that had likely been intended for his wash water. He’d been so grateful for the bath he hadn’t even thought about washing his face. Well. He certainly wasn’t going to wash it now, with all the ash and soot in the water. He’d just be extra certain to wash it before going to bed.
“All right?” the boy asked, showing his clean, dry hands to Iruka.
In answer, Iruka picked up the waistcoat. “Do you know how to lace this?” he asked.
“Not at all!” the boy replied with a wide smile. “But I’ll figure it out! I learned how to lace up bracers and leather armor as part of my training!”
“Training?” Iruka repeated.
“I want to become a squire,” Naruto explained, moving behind Iruka and waiting until Iruka glanced back with a nod before he began to carefully pull at the lacing, starting at the lowest part of the back, precisely where he should begin.
Iruka was grateful that he didn’t need to explain nearly as much to Naruto as he’d needed to explain to Kakashi. “A squire?”
“Well, actually I want to become a knight,” Naruto clarified, his deft fingers working their way up the lacing with ease and precision. “And fight a dragon!” he paused his tugs at the waistcoat to throw his hands in the air as if waving around an imaginary sword. “It would be so cool!”
The boy’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Iruka smiled as he said, “That sounds dangerous.”
“Yeah!” Naruto agreed and returned to the waistcoat.
Iruka waited a moment for the but, then realized it wasn’t coming. “Is the danger part of the appeal, then?” he asked. He was always one to avoid danger, so he couldn’t imagine being someone who dove into it headlong. Then again, Kakashi was like that, too. It was a world he couldn’t imagine or see himself ever becoming a part of.
“I guess so,” Naruto said softly. “Mostly I just want people to acknowledge me. Lord Hatake was able to earn the respect of the nobles with his own strength, even though he wasn’t high-born. If he can do it, I should be able to, too, you know?”
“I think that’s admirable,” Iruka said gently, “To want to make a name for yourself.”
“Yeah,” Naruto said firmly. “Then I won’t be lonely anymore. People will want to be around me. They’ll rely on me. And I’ll take care of them.”
Iruka felt a pang of shared pain in his chest at the words the boy spoke, so plaintive and earnest. Iruka understood completely the longing to be wanted, to be loved, to belong. “That’s a wonderful dream,” he told the boy, with utmost sincerity. “I wish you all the best on your journey.”
“Thanks,” the boy said, a bit subdued as he tugged gently at the last few loops of the waistcoat before tying it off and peering over Iruka’s shoulder. “Do you want me to help you put on the coat, too?” he asked.
“I would appreciate it,” Iruka said.
Naruto picked up the coat and made an approving sound in the back of his throat. “This is a good color for you,” he said, holding it up and helping Iruka slip it over his shoulders. He stepped back then, looking Iruka up and down. “You look like sunshine,” he declared.
That was all the compliment Iruka needed to feel good about his clothing choices. “Thank you.”
“Now,” the boy said, turning to the door and yanking it open dramatically, “Let’s go get some food!”
Chuckling to himself, Iruka followed the boy through the door and down the stairs, down into the center of the rugged keep of Erebos.
