| How Many Ways Do You Wanna Die? [Kakashi & Genma] | [Jan. 22nd, 2010|08:18 pm] |
Set the morning following No Matter How We Try, four years post Kyuubi, September 16th.
Awareness came long after the sun had risen. Kakashi twitched back awake in the blank space between unhappy dreams and spent a long, thoughtful moment contemplating the green tent canvass two inches from his nose. Suguru was dead; the mission was successful. And Kakashi had definitely fallen asleep in his armour: joints and buckles and hard edges had all pressed themselves efficiently into cold flesh, leaving impressions like marks in clay. His hands were freezing, feet even more so in their open-toed sandals. His back...
His back was a long strip of heat, braced against something solid. His neck was even warmer, tickled by a gentle, intermittent stream of hot air. It smelled like ginseng and poison and morning breath.
Which made sense, given that Genma seemed to have decided the best place to sleep was wedged up tight against Kakashi's spine, with his face against Kakashi's neck. Kakashi could feel the subtle twitches of a dream-in-progress in Genma's hands, pressed into the small of his back; when he paid outward attention, he could see his own breath clouding on the morning air. The canvas was dark with cold morning dew. Birds sung undisturbed nearby: always a positive of an enemy-free forest, when the animals were relaxed.
Kakashi warred with himself. On the one hand, he could get up and be cold and see about doing sensible morning things, like checking traps and pissing and making breakfast. On the other hand, he could roll over, tuck his hands up in the pocket of warmth between him and Genma, and sleep for another hour. Or at least day-dream; without dreaming, if there was any justice in the world.
While he was deciding, grey eye half-lidded and lazy, he listened absent-mindedly to Genma's breathing. And frowned.
Inhale and exhale were both regular, which was good, but they were shallow. And slow. Slower even than a normal sleep pattern. He followed them for a moment with his own breathing and found himself getting light-headed.
Was Genma unconscious?
--and dreaming at the same time. What?
Alarmed, Kakashi rolled over--with working limbs, thank god--and pressed two stiff, cold fingers up against the hinge of Genma's jaw. Warm flesh, steady pulse, Genma had all the blankets, damn him--
Genma had opened his eyes to stare at Kakashi, sucking in a deep, startled breath. A perfectly normal deep, startled breath.
Kakashi blinked at him, feeling suddenly stupid. And very much like a child caught with his hand in the forbidden weapons' chest.
"Good morning?" he suggested, with his most casual drawl. |
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