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Disqualified	By : SumiHatake Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Iruka Views: 1181 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto and I didn't make money writing this.

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Title: Disqualified

Pairing: KakaIru: Point commission for ~shappirexrose

Summary: There are winners and losers and then there are the ones who get disqualified.

Prompt: Special jonin/chunnin challenge' or 'winner gets a ~special~ prize' paint bombs, sticky spider webs, skin dye, and really angry ninkin

Dedicated to: Shappirexrose as a point commission to raise points to turn one of the groups I run into a super group.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto and while Shappire did give me dA points I’m not actually making any money.

Anko leaned back on her hands and kicked her feet, her heels tapping the front of the mission desk that she was perched on, rather comfortably in fact.

Iruka’s face was contorted in obvious irritation while bright green, yellow, orange, blue, and PINK paint dripped down his features. The scar that ran across his tanned cheeks and his nose were entirely obscured by the stuff. His green vest and the long blue sleeves of his uniform seemed to have gotten the majority of the pink. Even his pony tail was looking less brown. “I’m-going-to-kill-him.” The words were laced with venom and the normally calm brown eyes were dark with anger.

Surprisingly, not a drop of it had landed on Anko despite her relatively close proximity. She had to admire the directed explosion jutsu that had to have been used. It was like projectile vomit. It was hard not to laugh at the thought and the sight despite her self-preservation instincts screaming that it was probably in her best interest to refrained.

That said, Anko couldn’t honestly say she had the best survival instincts for a shinobi. Hers tended to rely heavily on escaping rather than initially avoid doom. “Well--” She grinned, a soft chuckle slipped out with the word. “--you did kind of ask for it.”

The vein at Iruka’s temple pulsed and he turned to glare at her. A big blob of blue slipped from his nose and plopped on the table.

She snickered. “At least it’s not dye,” she pointed out.

Iruka’s face twitched.

“It’s nowhere near as bad as the dye. Those dogs are going to be bright orange for weeks. I wonder how pisssed they are at you.” Anko grinned wider. The color wasn’t so bad on some of them but Urushi had gotten the worst of it and looked like somebody had tried and failed to tie dye him. “I still say you should have used green. It’s youthful.”

Iruka’s face contorted and he drew a hand over it, heedless of the smears of paint. “And, I’m telling you if I’d thought of that I would have,” he laughed. His shoulders shook and more paint dripped on the table.

“Can’t you just imagine if Gai got wind of that... not that anyone would do anything like tell him...” She laughed wickedly and winked at him.

“Oh no, of course you wouldn’t. It would be hilarious to see you charm him into challenging Kakashi into summoning them though. Not as funny as it was to watch him jump out of his skin when he kept walking into spider webs.” Iruka snorted. “Big, tough jounin scared of spiders...” He laughed outright.

Iruka wiped his hand over his face then looked down at it. “And, I didn’t ask for it.” He reached over and smeared his paint-laden hand across her cheek. “That damned, know-it-all, asshole jounin asked for it.”

Anko laughed again, not even bothering to do anything about the paint. A little of it dropped onto her overcoat, the blueish-green drip standing out against the tan. She knew if she did anything it would only encourage him and more than likely she’d end up with it on her hands and in her hair. The deep purple mess was styled back into it’s usual twisted and clipped tuft, but if he would undoubtedly feel the need to change that with even the slightest bit of encouragement. It was safer just to ignore the cool streaks of wet paint on her skin. “Don’t worry, Iru-chan, I know you’re a big boy ninja and don’t need us jounin to save you, but your prince charming needs to save his princess so you shouldn’t get so mad when he does.”

Iruka narrowed his eyes and glared at her, then flicked more paint at her. “Just because his ass has ‘white-knight syndrome’ doesn’t mean a damn thing. It was the middle of the fucking jounin-chuunin challenge and his idiocy got me disqualified!”

Anko snorted, she couldn’t help it. Not that she’d tried.

“I had it under control damn it. Fucking Kakashi,” he seethed.

“It got him disqualified too.” Helping the other side counted as colluding with the enemy and was a basis for both members being yanked from the yearly competition. That was of course excluding designated intelligence members on each side.

“Ask me if I care.” Iruka snapped.

Anko tapped a finger on her chin thoughtfully. “But you do. You wouldn’t be so mad if you didn’t.” He’d told her more than once that he thought it was one of Kakashi’s most charming traits and she wasn’t about to let him forget it. To be honest, she agreed, it was his best quality. That and his ass, but only when he wasn’t slouching and she could actually admire it.

“I spent weeks working on that maneuver and he fucked it up in under a fuckingminute! Weeks, Anko!” The words came out as an angry, frustrated sob. Iruka flopped forward and banged his head on the table top, leaving splotches of paint. “Weeks...”

“Aw, my poor rainbow princess.” Still snickering, she reached over and patted his head.

“Actually given that I rescued him and he’s a ‘rainbow’ princess I would say that makes him mine not yours.”

Anko turned and grinned over her shoulder at Kakashi, who sat perched on the window sill. He’d clearly taken a bath or two or three, or hell-- maybe a dozen since she’d seen him last. She wondered how many it took to get that orange off skin. The fresh uniform and a new flak vest was also a dead give-away. Admittedly they looked better than the almost puke-ish color the others had turned thanks to the dye. “Mmm... He’s the resisting, self-reliant, rainbow princess, but I guess if you can convince him he’s yours then I’ll let you borrow him.” Iruka was hers, always hers, but she didn’t really mind sharing him with Kakashi; especially not if it meant getting to watch them make-up and make-out.

“I can hear both of you,” Iruka growled. He turned his head, not bothering to lift it from the table, and glared at Kakashi. “I hate you and I’m not a fucking princess.”

Kakashi stepped down from the window carefully, shoulders shaking almost invisibly. The eye not covered by his forehead protector or the mask closed and crinkled at the corner.

If he actually laughed, Anko had no doubt that Iruka would explode all over again, and the fight would continue. She was actually a little worried that it would. Her Iruka-kun didn’t always know when to give up and his temper could turn the mostly harmless--if you didn’t count the very pissed-off ninken-- disagreement into a real fight.

Kakashi didn’t laugh though. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, only a hint of orange still remained in the white spikes, and walked over. “I didn’t mean to.”

It was apparently still the wrong thing to say. Iruka stood up angrily, his shoulders tight. He drew himself up to his full height and turned narrowed eyes on Kakashi. “You didn’t mean to swoop in and scoop me up seconds before Gai barrelled into the spot I’d been standing in?” he ground out.

Anko’s eyes widened at the outburst of anger. She’d heard that tone before; it was the same one that he used on nine and ten-year-olds who said they didn’t mean to do something that was clearly idiotic, when they would have known better if they had thought about it for two seconds.

“Because I wasn’t there to tie him up he hit Iwashi, who was finishing off our traps. Which is rather like kicking the middle out of a domino array.” His voice pitched even higher and he crossed his arms in full-on scolding teacher mode. “Nothing happened when it was supposed to and every damn trap went off early. Your stupid need to rescue me knocked out half of my team and now they think you did it on purpose because they think I’m an idiot and let you see our plans!”

Ducking his head, Kakashi stopped just in front of Iruka. “I really didn’t mean to.” He looked at Iruka but didn’t lift his head. “I just--” His cheeks pinked slightly where they were visible above the line of the dark-blue fabric. “--get a little competitive with Gai and protective of you. I can’t help it.”

Iruka visibly deflated, he let out a breath and the hard lines of anger on his face melted. “I know that.”

Biting her lip, Anko covered her mouth to keep from snickering at two of them.

Kakashi slid his arms around Iruka’s waist, pulling him close despite the still wet paint. “I’m sorry.”

“Mm.” Iruka lower lip jutted out. “You’re all of ten, you know that? You can’t cover me in paint when you’re the one in trouble.”

“Mah, more like thirteen,” Kakashi laughed. “And it was the dogs, you’re just lucky I talked them out of the flaming scroll of poo idea or the peeing on everything of yours in revenge one. They really hate orange.”

Anko snickered.

Iruka rolled his eyes and laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

“Those are the ones that I heard, I have no clue what the other ideas they came up with while I was taking my shower were,” Kakashi chuckled, snuggling Iruka. “You know how bloody-minded Uuhei can be.”

“I’ll watch the paint dry,” Anko put in, casting a glance at the desktop. “You know-- if you want to go home and get a shower.”

Kakashi reached up, wiped a bit of paint from Iruka’s nose, and kissed the newly-bared spot. “She has a point. We do need a shower.”

Turning, Iruka flashed her a smile. “Instead of watching it dry you could clean it,” he suggested hopefully.

Anko laughed and shook her head. “Not a chance, but I will let you get a shower and have some hot make-up sex.”

Iruka sighed. “All right. I guess I can’t have it all.”

Kakashi raised a hand to form the seals for a transportation jutsu, looked at her, and closed his eye briefly in his typical smile. Then they were gone.

Anko laughed and then got up and went to the bathroom to clean her face off. It wasn’t as though the mission room was going anywhere and at two in the morning it wasn’t likely that anyone would be coming in either. She’d get back before Iruka, but until then she would find somebody else to entertain her, maybe Ibiki.
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Disqualified