Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Umino Iruka, Kawarama decides, is very beautiful.

His beauty isn't the kind that is slapped on magazine covers like those adolescents with a hundred layers’ worth of products, looking all gaunt and sharp in their slim build, unreal because no one can look that smooth. No one is airbrushed to perfection.

But Iruka may just come close.

He looks so young, his cheeks pink with embarrassment, deep brown eyes holding a pot of gold in their depths. Iruka is all golden skin the color of milk tea, eternally sun-kissed by summer, the fall of his long chestnut hair framing a gentle face, making him softer, definitely a lot more attractive. There are no dimples dotting Iruka’s cheeks now when he sits across the bench from himself and Itama, sipping his overly sweet Frappuccino, cheeks remaining red the whole time.

Kawarama knows Iruka has dimples. Cute ones. Both cheeks. He saw them that night, saw how Iruka looked up at Tobirama with such adoration, smiling so brightly at his older brother. Both dimples dotted his cheeks then.

And Tobirama? Well. Before Tobirama saw the two of them, Tobirama looked at Iruka with equal adoration, a certain reverence Kawarama didn't think his older, always in control brother was capable of directing to a person. Tobirama looks so taken by Iruka that he looked like a completely different man. Kawarama would dare say unrecognizable. At least to him.

Itama is of the same opinion. They spent their dinner at the Fig and Olive discussing exactly what they saw.

Iruka isn't dressed in a sharp power suit like how most people Kawarama and his brothers are usually surrounded with. Instead, Iruka is dressed in jeans and a button down shirt and black Chuck Taylors, laces slightly grayed, not quite white. He may be casual but he looks neat and put together, pressed clothing and all. 

He is lean. Possibly not that heavy. Definitely less than what the four of them can bench press. Slender hands, soft wrist, gentle looking fingers. 

Soft everything which does make him very pretty. Tobirama always did date beautiful people.

“So you work here,” Kawarama states, taking a sip of his bland coffee. Compared to the monstrosity Iruka is drinking, that is.

“Yes, Senju-san. With Acid Rain, fifteenth floor.” Iruka nods a little.

“Oh, that's a marketing firm, I believe?” Itama asks as opposed to stating the obvious fact.

“Yes, Senju-san, ah…” Iruka’s bright eyes flick between Kawarama and Itama. “Not quite marketing. We illustrate more than we market.. Senju-san...

“Kawarama and Itama is just fine, Iruka-kun~” Kawarama grins. “You are dating Aniki after all.”

It would seem Iruka can turn a darker shade of red. How cute~

“R-Right. Kawarama-san and Itama-san, then…” Iruka takes another nervous sip of his drink.

So adorable~

“Relax, Iruka-kun. We're not going to eat you,” Kawarama says, ignoring the look Itama shoots his way from his peripheral vision. “Call this brotherly curiosity. So! You are work as a…”

“An illustrator,” Iruka answers, looking between Kawarama and Itama, still quite intimidated.

Aww. 

“An artist! That is lovely,” Itama says, genuinely impressed, completely disarming when he smiles. “What kind of things do you mostly illustrate? Digital mediums, I'm assuming?” Itama nods at the tablet and pen.

“A-Ah, yes mostly digital. But I can work with other mediums if required.” Iruka pauses when Kawarama silently prompts him via a raise of both eyebrows. “I - I have worked with watercolor, oil, spray paint during school, charcoal, most pen mediums…”

“Do you use any social media platforms to post your works?” Kawarama asks.

“I do have an Instagram page. I haven't updated it in a while but… I mostly use it as a portfolio link. I haven't had the opportunity to build my own webpage, yet.” Iruka rubs the back of his head, flushing even redder. 

Iruka’s attempt at a casual sip of his Frappuccino is an attempt to stave away his nervousness. Which only makes him a lot cuter. Poor guy. Kawarama doesn't blame him. Anyone would be nervous too if they find themselves seated before two brother-towers of the man who clearly just fucked them into the next life over the weekend.

It was a mutual decision to arrive two days early in an attempt to maybe put together some sort of birthday dinner for Tobirama.

Tobirama, however, was completely… unavailable. 

Kawarama can see why. It’s not like Iruka can hide the limp; the weekend must have been… intense.

“Would you mind sharing it? Or…” Kawarama gently prompts. 

“Not at all,” Iruka says and in a softer voice that may have been even shier, says. “It's… rollingdolphin .”

Kawarama and Itama cannot stop the small smile from tugging at their lips as they pull out their phones. They find the handle and Kawarama knows, just by glancing at Itama, that they are both impressed.

The pieces posted are a mix of data moshing, fractal art, vector painting, still imagery, integrated, pixel and raster arts, collages and several 2D and 3D paintings (people, some recognizable pop culture characters, current popular comic book characters etc.); Kawarama even spots a few comic panels. 

“Are these your designs?” Kawarama asks, holding out his phone, showing an action-fight scene between two superheroes.

Iruka rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Yes. I ah - I am really into manga and comics.”

A cute nerd.

Aww~

“Is this digital?” Itama asks, holding out his phone. There is a picture of a forest and a plunging waterfall.

Iruka leans over to look and nods. “Yes, it is.”

“Amazing,” Itama praises, looking at it again. “I almost thought it was a photo.”

Iruka hums softly, blushing again. “Thank you, Itama-san. I’m grateful for your compliment and appreciation.”

“I don't know about you, Itama, but I'm following him. These are great. How old are you again, Iruka-kun?” Kawarama asks, hitting the follow button and sharing the comic panel in a story post. His followers would appreciate that. 

“Twenty-three…”

Now that makes Kawarama look up. He's not the only one surprised. Itama is staring too. Iruka nervously takes another very long sip of his Frappuccino. Not that either of them can blame the boy. He's practically a boy.

Itama is the first to recover, smiling disarmingly because they're thinking the exact same thing. Their older brother of thirty-nine is dating a kid . Their older brother is dating someone fifteen years younger than himself. Kawarama isn’t one to judge. He knows Itama isn't the kind either. 

It's just… surprising. 

Yui was about ten years younger, but not twenty-three. Most of Tobirama’s partners tended to have quite a bit of an age gap, but certainly not fifteen . Not that they were introduced to them anyway, either in passing or at a family function – which, to be fair, may have only been Yui and one other guy years ago that Kawarama cannot remember his name for the life of him.

“You are blessed with talent, Iruka-kun. I am truly impressed,” Itama gently says, looking back at his phone and scrolling through Iruka’s Instagram  some more. 

“Same,” Kawarama echoes. “I don't suppose you take commissions?”

“I can. As long as the person doesn’t mind a bit of a wait,” Iruka hesitantly says.

“You must be very busy. But hopefully at a manageable level?” Itama offers, taking a sip of his piccolo.

Iruka hums, shrugging a little. “Something like that, I guess. It’s a growing company. We do our best.”

A diplomatic and polite answer to I-am-dying-and-overworked.

Kawarama appreciates that. Which brings him to:

“If time allows, maybe we should just ask you to do a painting for our new lobby. What do you reckon, Itama?” Kawarama asks, turning to look at Itama.

“Oh! Yes! That would be nice.” Itama nods, looking back at Iruka who looks confused. “We’re working on merging both our offices soon. I’m unsure if Aniki explained, but the office here is our head office. We are arranging to have our own floor. It’s a lot more cost effective. That also means we’re going to need some new interior decorative pieces. If Iruka-kun is open to it in the future, a commissioned would be nice.”

“You’re all going to be here?” Iruka asks, blinking several times. “On the twenty-seventh floor?”

“Not necessarily the twenty-seventh. We are in negotiations for the office on the thirty-third. It’s a lot bigger.” Itama huffs a small sound that is partially a hum and partially a soft exasperated breath. “It’s been the most challenging thing. But Anija and Aniki thinks that the maintenance and service is a lot better here than some of the buildings on the block. So hopefully soon. Our aim is to have the move completed by the summer.”

“O-Oh…” Iruka woodenly nods. “That’s great for your firm.”

“We think so,” Kawarama agrees, grinning toothily. “We are quite excited. I know I am. We may be seeing you around more often, Iruka-kun~”

“A-Ahh…”

“So! Iruka-kun~” Kawarama props his chin on a palm, watching Iruka with a curious gaze. “How long have you been dating Aniki?”

Iruka’s throat visibly bobs with a swallow. “A little over four months?”

Once more, Kawarama is surprised.

This time, he and Itama are a little less discreet when they look at each other. It couldn’t have been for more than a second. Tobirama has only ever called someone his girlfriend or boyfriend a total of two times. Anyone else, from what Kawarama can recall, was either a companion or a date. Both Yui and the other boyfriend were individuals Tobirama was seeing for a while. Kawarama is trying to remember if any of Tobirama’s relationships were officiated as boyfriend or girlfriend to any of them at a four-month mark.

Kawarama gives up.

Tobirama had a lot of partners over the years.

He is pretty sure, however, that boyfriend after four months is… new.

“Four months. Aniki must really like you, Iruka-kun~” Kawarama grins.

Itama gives Kawarama a subtle kick under the table.

If Iruka notices, he doesn’t show it. He does take another sip of his Frappuccino, the flush brushing down his neck and disappearing past his button down shirt.

“We are very happy to meet you, Iruka-kun,” Itama gently says. “Do you come here to work often?”

Iruka nods. A little too rapidly. Poor kid is a nervous wreck. It is quite sweet, Kawarama thinks.

“It gets a little stuffy in the office. We’re a little cramped. It’s a lot more comfortable to get work done here. Our boss doesn’t mind. There’s…” Iruka looks around the café. “Four of us here now, actually.”

Itama hums, nodding in understanding and just a little sympathy. Cramped spaces, after all, aren’t fun. “Is that your favorite thing to order from here?”

“It’s quite filling…” Iruka tentatively answers. “And I also like sweets, so…”

Kawarama can’t stop the quirk of his brow at that. Calling an overly sweet iced excuse of a coffee beverage filling is not something he would do. It is certainly not something Kawarama would ever order or endorse to anyone. Like Tobirama, he takes his coffee black and unsweetened. As much as possible, Kawarama stays away from dairy. He doesn’t work hard on his health and physique just to be reckless about it. Out of the four of them, he probably eats the cleanest. It isn’t surprising that out of the four of them, he’d be the least impressed with such a statement.

“What’s your favorite?” Itama prompts.

“I’m not very picky, usually. I do enjoy most cakes and pastries. Ice creams. I like trying new things, as well if time allows…”

Now that, Kawarama can work with. “Do you café hop? Bar hop? Bistro hop? Resturant hop?”

Itama pats Kawarama on the shoulder blade. “Excuse him, Iruka-kun. Aniki is a bit of a foodie. He gets excited when someone puts try-new-things and food in a sentence.”

“I don’t mind,” Iruka says, smiling, one dimple dotting his cheek. “I do hop. All that. Or well, I try to, anyway.”

“Do you enjoy brunch?”

“We love brunches.”

“Oh and do you have a favorite café?”

“There’s this new seventies themed place on Tea Avenue—“

Kawarama stops mid sentence when he sees Iruka look past his shoulder, momentarily distracted.

With reason. And perhaps just a sliver amusing.

From the turnstiles, Tobirama spots them and is making a beeline towards them, eyebrows stitched together the tiniest bit, his walk brisk as he crosses the distance between them. Hashirama is trailing behind him, looking a little surprised but upon seeing their table, the surprise shifts to a very amused look.

Tobirama plants himself by Iruka’s side, a hand curling over Iruka’s shoulder, which then brushes towards Iruka’s neck that he seems to squeeze. Which Kawarama notices, as he takes a sip of his coffee, makes Iruka look up at Tobirama with a completely besotted if not just a touch breathless expression, red staining his cheeks again, lips parting in a slow inhale.

Interesting.

“Are they bothering you?” Tobirama asks.

Iruka shakes his head hesitantly. Or perhaps politely.

Aww~ Cute~

“Aniki,” Itama greets, because Itama is a lot politer than he is. He nods at Hashirama too, who stands with a careful not-quite-in-your-face assessing gaze in his eyes. Not everyone would recognize the look. Kawarama certainly does. “We bumped into Iruka-kun in the elevator by chance.”

“Oho, Iruka-kun is it? It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Hashirama says, smiling a little warmly as he dips his head.

“A-Ah, Senju-san, it’s an honor,” Iruka quickly says, getting to his feet to bow politely with just a whisper of a grimace at the quick change of position.

“Hashirama is fine, Iruka-kun,” Hashirama says. “No need to be so formal.”

“Iruka-kun is twenty-three and a very talented illustrator~” Kawarama says, grinning at Hashirama.

The smile on Hashirama’s lips takes on a tinge of surprise, and then something a little teasing. “Talented at only twenty-three.”

Tobirama gives Hashirama a bit of a look. “Anija.”

“If Kawarama calls someone talented, then it must be so,” Hashirama says, giving Kawarama a knowing look.

“They’ve been dating for four months~” Kawarama adds, pretending he doesn’t see the exasperated look on Tobirama’s face.

Hashirama’s laugh is sudden and loud, the kind that comes from the stomach like he’s heard the funniest thing. Which only means that he’s equally surprised at not just how young Iruka is, but also how fast he’s earned the title of boyfriend.

Iruka looks like he wants to run away. Or sink into a hole somewhere.

“Anija, you are being completely inappropriate,” Tobirama says with an unimpressed sigh.

“Iruka-kun, you must be very special~” Hashirama sing-songs, ignoring Tobirama completely.

“And you are an idiot,” Tobirama says grumpily, clearly aware that Hashirama is teasing.

Predictably, Hashirama’s face falls, as it always does whenever Tobirama shuts him down. Like a little storm cloud, Hashirama’s head dips, shoulder slumping, which never ceases to make Kawarama snort and Itama chuckle. Iruka, however, looks overly concerned.

“Don’t worry. This happens,” Itama reassures.

Iruka doesn’t look so convinced as he continues to look at Hashirama’s. “R-Right...”

Tobirama rolls his eyes and then gently nudges Iruka by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Have you had lunch yet?”

Iruka looks at his Frappuccino cup that’s almost empty. “Kind of.”

Kawarama cocks both eyebrows at the response. Well that’s just not right.

Which Itama and Tobirama seem to echo if their expressions are anything to go by.

“Come, let's go to lunch.” Tobirama says, not leaving any room for argument.

“But—“

Iruka’s protest dies when Tobirama simply looks at him. It’s the don’t-argue look. The kind Tobirama wears when he’s giving orders. Maybe not quite as harsh but an order nonetheless.

“I thought we were getting lunch?” Hashirama protests.

“I changed my mind,” Tobirama swiftly answers. “The three of you can have lunch on your own.”

Kawarama grins when Hashirama’s lips curve to an unhappy shape. Which makes Kawarama seize the opportunity to confirm what he wants to confirm and says, “Actually, Iruka-kun~ We’re having a late birthday brunch next Saturday. If Aniki will give you permission, we would love to have you. I’m sure we can squeeze in an extra person in our reservation. What do you think, Itama? Aniki? Anija?”

The placid expression on Tobirama’s face and the slight stiffening of his back is the only confirmation Kawarama needs.

So that’s what it is.

It’s that kind of relationship.

Kawarama had his suspicions. Much younger partners. Partners that always seem to look at Tobirama as if seeking his permission. As if Kawarama needed any more confirmation, Iruka looks up at Tobirama, indeed, like he’s seeking Tobirama’s approval.

“I’ll – I’ll check to see…” Iruka responds. “All the same, thank you for the invitation.”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“We hope to have you, Iruka-kun,” Itama says, smiling warmly. “And please, if you see us here, don’t be a stranger. We’re going to be around for the next two weeks. I’d love to see the pieces you’re working on if you’re willing to share.”

Iruka smiles a little shyly. This time both dimples dot his cheeks. “Yes, Itama-san.”

Tobirama hums and then says, “If you are all quite finished.”

Hashirama wiggles his eyebrows. “Enjoy lunch~”

Tobirama gives him a withering look as Iruka excuses himself and gathers his things and half empty glass, exchanging parting pleasantries before he is promptly whisked away. Try as Iruka might, the limp is quite obvious. Iruka tries to straighten though, bless him. Which makes the three of them look on and Kawarama to say, “That is why Aniki was busy.”

Hashirama’s laugh filling the entire space of the lobby makes Kawarama laugh in amusement too, while Itama simply flushes and says with great disapproval, “Anija! Aniki!”

Chapter Text

So.

Brunch.

The one thing that Iruka spends the rest of the week mentally having a meltdown about. Tobirama assured him that he isn’t obligated to come if he’s uncomfortable with being around his family (Tobirama had looked unimpressed about that particular encounter. He had been a little grumpy about his brothers’ behavior throughout that lunch).

Which brings Iruka to the current situation at hand, that is the Senju Brothers Brunch™.  

The L’Orangerie is a restaurant situated uptown with the view of the now bare treetops reflecting with the last of the frost as their season segue into spring. It’s a spread of clear blue skies and dark glistening earth beyond the contemporary interior design of the restaurant – dome shaped arabesque ceilings, sunlight pouring through the wooden weave, gray and mustard yellow bucket seats, polished, gleaming marble floors, accented gray walls and heavy marble with iron stand tables. Fancy place. Fancy people. Fancy plates, shiny forks, shiny everything and what have you.

As Iruka follows Tobirama and the maitre’d, Iruka tries to look around (discreetly) at what everyone around him is having just so he knows what to expect. Art on a plate comes to mind; eggs piled high, avocado being spread on sourdough toast, stacked pancakes, charcuterie boards, fruit, cocktails and endless servings of tea and coffee.

Iruka wishes he was hungry.

Which maybe he is, but the anxiety of the entire thing is overriding whatever hunger he may have. He spent Friday night (again, of course) in Tobirama’s bed. His last meal had been dinner last night at eight. Which Tobirama pretty much exhausted when he spread Iruka on his couch and then the sofa and then again on the bed that morning. Iruka had some chocolates here and there, but otherwise, normally, he’d be famished. Outright starving. Like stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere, haggard and dying level of hungry.

Tobirama assured him that brunch at the L’Orangerie (apparently the Senju Brothers’ go-to brunch place for years) is nothing short of delicious.

Iruka can see that, if the tables he walked by are any indication.

He’d be able to appreciate it all if he didn’t quite quake in his dark wash jeans, black sneakers and maroon v-neck long sleeve crew cut shirt. He had to scrub the white soles of his sneakers with a toothbrush soaked in soap and baking soda at Anko’s insistence. He had to soak the shoelaces in bleach to turn them white, too. Although Tobirama assured him he looked good (you look beautiful, baby boy), it does nothing to boost Iruka’s confidence.

When they reach the table, Tobirama sits Iruka between himself and the adjacent seat Itama occupies. Across from Iruka sits Kawarama, beside him a lovely red headed woman and adjacent to Tobirama is Hashirama himself. And boy is the table full of (hand-over-heart) good looking people, they might as well have been a painting of deities disguised as mere mortals.

It’s almost a little ridiculous.

Itama, for example, is wearing a turtle white turtleneck and dark pants. Kawarama is in a tight t-shirt and a blazer with the sleeves rolled up to his defined forearms. Mito, Hashirama’s very, very pretty wife, has her hair in an up-do and is dressed in a pastel yellow jumpsuit. Hashirama is in a striped button shirt and right next to Iruka, is Tobirama in his button down navy shirt.

Maybe Iruka should have opted for at least a turtleneck.

Maybe he should have kept his hair up, too. Look a little neater.

But then Daddyrama likes it when his hair is down.

And then, of course, there is the limp that he wishes would fucking go away for the duration of this fucking brunch. But because everyday around people that are significantly important is fuck-with-Iruka day, the limp does not disappear and he gets the look from both Hashirama and Kawarama. That kind of bemused look that makes their eyes almost sparkle like a filled champagne glass. To add insult to injury, Itama blushes , dropping his gaze to his drink, which he takes a sip of and then smiles at Iruka.

Itama is nice.

Itama is polite.

Itama also is a spitting image of Tobirama (sans the hair) but is softer, sweeter, and… quite frankly, not all that big-dick-energy like Daddyrama. A soft pillowy marshmallow. Total sweetheart. He likes Itama. If only because Itama seems a little more… reserved in his statements (verbal or not) than, say, Kawarama and Hashirama.

“So glad you can join us!” Hashirama says, smile wide and warm. “My wife, Mito.”

“Hello, Iruka-kun.” Mito dips her head, which Iruka quickly matches. “Hashirama told me about you. It’s nice to meet you.”

Should he just call her Mito? Hashirama did introduce her as just Mito. Iruka can only do with so much with the information he’s been given. Mito it is.

“Mito-san, it’s nice to meet you, too.” Iruka softly responds, his knees officially as soft as room temperature cup-pudding. Thank goodness he’s sitting down. He probably would have tripped or fallen or something equally as humiliating. “Hashirama-san, Kawarama-san, Itama-san, thank you for having me today.”

They exchange more pleasantries, and go through the motion of ordering drinks, getting all of that out of the way. The server comes and sets a charcuterie board in the middle that Iruka only glances at (daaaaaaamn – there’s at least seven types of cheese, four types of bread-things, pretzels, grapes, berries, cherries, banana slices, orange slices, honey, butter and jams) before going through the drink menu, reading every single ingredient in the listed cocktail trying to see which has the best punch. But then he probably shouldn’t ask for the brunch equivalent of a long island because this is a family function and he should not get tipsy for propriety’s sake. At least not within the first ten minutes.

Another server brings a pitcher of cranberry-orange mimosa and pineapple-strawberry mimosa. Another server comes with two trays that has an assortment of finger sized foods with what looks like smoked salmon and cream cheese cucumber bites, herbed cucumber bites, maple bacon pancake bites, devilled strawberries, fruit and cream cheese Danish pastries, tomato and mozzarella skewers, the tiniest (cutest~) avocado toast with crumbed feta, little quiche bites and what looks like a Caesar salad on a stick. Why is Iruka looking at the menu again?

All around him, everyone orders their respective meal.

Which makes Iruka side-eye as he slowly lowers himself behind the menu because what the fuck ?

Were they planning on finishing everything ?

How deep are their stomachs?

Hello?!

The warm hand pressing between his shoulder blades makes Iruka look at Tobirama, who is looking at him with a hint of concern. “Can’t decide?”

“If I may make a suggestion, Iruka-kun,” Itama softly says. “Since you mentioned you enjoy the sweeter side of a palate, their most popular item on the menu is actually not the chef’s special. But this one right here.”

Iruka lowers his menu and allows Itama to navigate to the right page where he points to an item that does sound quite… nice. Really nice. Something called coconut French toast with cinnamon poached apples and vanilla bean glazed pecans. Iruka likes French toast. He’s not allergic to anything else in the description, so Itama’s recommendation it is!

“I’ll have that please,” Iruka says to the server, who gives him a very-good-sir look and writes his order down.

He repeats the order, someone pours them coffee and Iruka busies himself with stirring said coffee that now looks nothing like coffee because he accidentally poured a little too much cream trying not to look nervous.

Everything seems to be going well. There is talk of the Hashirama’s twins’ upcoming birthday. There is Kawarama’s recent hiking trip to Earth. Mito mentions an upcoming career talk at the university she will be giving soon. It’s all fantastic. It means he can just listen (with honest interest) without having to open his mouth.

And then there is Iruka’s contribution to the conversation.

A stomach growl.

An amazingly loud one.

Like he’s got his goddamn stomach connected to sky high piled rock concert speakers. Iruka is so very certain people from the next table over actually looked at him.

It’s not like his stomach is empty! He’s drinking his coffee! For fuck’s sake! Why him?

Why now ?

Iruka swears both his kidneys ruptures then.

His liver possibly starts to melt in the leaking acid from his stomach – oh my gods!

“You should try this,” Tobirama says, serving him one of the maple bacon pancake bites and avocado toast with crumbed feta on his plate. He then starts to help himself to some of the fruit and cheese on the charcuterie board.

“Speaking of sweet palate, Iruka-kun, I hope you don’t mind. But I thought of you when I asked for the deviled strawberries – the cream is actually dairy free. You’re not allergic to strawberries are you? Or almonds? It’s almond cream.” Kawarama prompts.

“N-No?” Iruka answers and then watches meekly as Kawarama serves him not one, but two devilled strawberries.

“They’re my favorite,” Kawarama adds.

“And these are mine,” Itama adds, serving Iruka herbed cucumber bites. “It’s a little boring, I know.”

“It’s – It’s not boring. I like cucumbers.” Iruka lamely answers because what else does he even say?

Suddenly, it’s like the entire table is looking expectantly at him.

Uh.

Okay?

Iruka picks up the first thing on his plate – herbed cucumber bite – and like a barbarian just stuffs it into his mouth. Before he can stop himself, uncouth and what shit, he says, “Wow. That’s really good.”

This seems to have appeased the table because then everyone serves themselves and the conversation flows again. Itama and Kawarama asks Iruka about what he’s currently working on, goes as far as showing Hashirama and Mito their favorite pieces of art from Iruka’s Instagram (Iruka is soooooo embarrassed), which then leads to Hashirama proudly showing Iruka pictures of his twins and Tofu, his family’s beloved golden retriever.

Iruka only starts to relax a little more (and stop stuffing his face from nervousness) when their orders come and the conversation sort of mellows down in favor of properly eating as opposed to nibbling. It is all well and good until Hashirama opens his mouth and asks, as he takes a bite of baked eggs with chards and green olives, “So, how did you two meet?”

Would he get judged if he asks for a long island? Because whatever nerves that had settled earlier suddenly slams right back. Iruka looks at Tobirama, who gives him a bit of a glance that Iruka can only interpret as a go ahead.

Iruka coughs up the first word that comes to mind. “A-Accident.”

“This sounds interesting,” Kawarama chimes, cutting into his poached eggs. “Don’t be stingy on the details~”

Should he lie?

Or eliminate information?

But then Daddyrama doesn’t like lies. What the fuck does he do?

“I would call it a verification of identity through an unexpected video-call,” Tobirama says, right before he takes a bite of his baked eggs and roasted vegetables.

“Identity verification?” Hashirama grins, which is punctuated by a curious tilt of Mito’s head.

In one breath and perhaps just a touch high pitched, Iruka vomits, “I sent him a series of yelling-voice-notes thinking he was someone else and when he tried to tell me – because he’s such a gentleman – that I have the wrong number and sent a live selfie as proof, I harassed him and called him a liar and to stop using other hot people’s photos and then I called him and verified he was in fact not the person I was supposed to yelling at and by the next day, we bumped into each other in the elevator and started talking a lot in the lobby café for almost six months and then I finally grew the balls and asked him to dinner thinking he’d say no, but he said yes and I was shocked he was interested and now it’s been just under five months and I’m happy.”

Wait. Did he just say balls? Did he just refer to his Daddyrama in front of his entire family as hot ? 

What the fucking hell you giant, magnanimous, colossal, universal idiiiiiioooooot!

The entire table is staaaaaaring .

With all eyebrows up to their hairlines. Mito’s mascaraed eyelashes actually blinks several times because Iruka didn’t breathe a single breath when he said all that.

Oh.

My.

Gods.

Why is he like this?!

Why did he come to this brunch!

Tobirama at least looks slightly amused. It’s not quite visible because he continues to eat his meal, completely undisturbed by the projectile word vomit Iruka just threw up all over the table.

“A gentleman…” Mito echoes softly.

(What? Daddyrama most certainly is!)

“Hot people’s photos…” Kawarama adds, looking soooooo, veeeeeery amused he might as well just laugh in Iruka’s goddamn stupid face.

“Six months of getting to know each other, that’s wonderful~” Itama says, smiling and looking like he’s quite happy for them.

“Ah, to be in love again while young~” Hashirama sing-songs. “And to love this grumpy man!”

“Silence, Anija,” Tobirama firmly says, throwing Hashirama a very, very unimpressed look.

And that’s when everything in Iruka skids to a halt as his gaze snaps at Hashirama’s grinning and maybe just a little dopey face because that is not something he had expected to come up. That four lettered word gets shut down so hard by Tobirama he might as well have punched Hashirama in the face for daring to say love. Iruka isn’t sure what makes his entire body sink to the core of the earth. The reality that he must look like a desperate idiot so hopelessly in love that even a stranger (this is only their second meeting) like Hashirama can see it. Or it’s Tobirama throwing Hashirama a look and outright telling him to shut the fuck up gentleman-style.

It’s not like Iruka expected Tobirama to love him back or anything.

It’s not like they live together or anything.

It’s really not anything other than regular dating with a daddy kink in the mix. 

Four months of being together(ish) isn’t long; Asuma wasn’t wrong. 

On the bright side, at least Iruka knows now , thanks to this wonderfully eye-opening brunch, that love is not something that should be on the table, if that reaction is anything to go by. Iruka supposes he should pat himself on the back for not being a colossal loser because he manages to laugh while a part of him starts cracking like a glass window that’s just received a strong blow. He picks up his mimosa and takes a sip to ease the tight clench of his throat.

“He’s not that grumpy,” Iruka manages to say, keeping his smile on his face. “I have to confess, I was a little intimidated at first, though. Tobirama-san has his days.”

That seems to have done the trick.

Because almost immediately, Kawarama leaps at the grumpyrama train and starts to tell stories about how some of their paralegals and other lawyers in their firm expressed the exact same sentiment.

Iruka doesn’t dare look at Tobirama, whose gaze remains on him for the rest of brunch.

Iruka also pretends that Mito and Hashirama aren’t looking at him either.

He keeps his eyes trained on Kawarama and Itama, the way he once used to as an attentive student sitting at the front bench before a lecturing professor.

Whatever appetite that he may have had left does not return at all.

In fact, now he just feels very sick.

*

Coming to brunch before Tobirama’s family was a bad, bad, bad, most horrendous idea.

Iruka stands before the bathroom’s glass sink of the male’s room, pretending the pinch in his chest isn’t really there. That it isn’t splitting his sternum right in the middle and then forcing it to be pried open with an invisible rusty crowbar. One thing is at least confirmed and very crystal clear.

Ownership and love aren’t the same thing. Not in Tobirama’s book, at least.

Iruka turns the tap off, resignation tugging every part of him down as he thinks, here we go again. He presses cold water to his face and neck before he looks at the mirror once more, tugging some of the paper towels to dry himself. The cold water does nothing to help.

Maybe he should have listened to Asuma.

Maybe he should have given fuck all in the end.

Oh well.

Brunch should end soon. They’re at the cocktails stage now.

Iruka pats and then pinches his cheeks hard, grins at the mirror before he returns to the table.

*

Iruka is impressed that everything on the table, save for a piece here and there, is cleared.

As soon as Hashirama foots the bill, the staff comes out and sets a small cake with candles and proceeds to wish Tobirama a very happy birthday. That should have been it but Hashirama decides that it just won’t do and proceeds to sing the birthday song, much to Tobirama’s unimpressed look and perhaps great consternation. Iruka tries not to laugh. He really does. But then Itama starts to chuckle behind a fist and Kawarama gets on the singing-train to join Hashirama’s very off-key but quite joyful birthday song that well, Iruka can’t help it.

He ends up grinning anyway because he’s the idiot in love and Tobirama looks like the most adorable grump, grumpy expression directed at Hashirama’s wide open singing mouth the entire time.

“You have absolutely no regard for proper behavior, Anija. You’re an embarrassment,” Tobirama says, glaring a little which results – just like before – in Hashirama drooping into a sad ball of depression.

(Weird ass brothers.)

“Make a wish, Aniki~” Itama says, smiling quite brightly.

Tobirama sighs . But he looks at the candle in thought, before he blows it.

There is a small applause, wishes of may-your-wish-come-true-Aniki, cake being sliced and shared and Iruka somehow managing to clap his hands softly, happy for Tobirama. Happy that he has his family. Truly. They’re not really weird as far as families go. Iruka has heard family stories here and there. This is pretty tame.

The cake is probably good. It certainly feels creamy on his tongue.

What it tastes like however, Iruka has no fucking clue.

*

Iruka supposes, as far as meals go, L’Orangerie really is amazing. He’d probably use a better adjective if his concentration and appreciation half way wasn’t shitted on by the L-word that Hashirama burped out like bad gas. He probably would have been perhaps a touch excited and would have looked forward to Itama mentioning having coffee-sometime. Or Kawarama’s let’s-have-lunch-next-week-across-the-street offer.

They part in warm goodbyes as the valet brings their respective cars one by one. Tobirama and Iruka are the first to depart.

Iruka isn’t sure what’s better.

Being with the Senjus outside the restaurant or being away from them in the car filled with soft jazz music all alone with Tobirama.

Tobirama takes Iruka’s hand and gently asks, “Was that too much?”

Noooooo shiiiiit.

Are you fucking kidding!

“I would say that I am impressed that everything on the table was mostly gone,” Iruka says, because he is. “I may have also eaten a little too much. But you’ll just take care of that for me later, right Daddy?”

Tobirama huffs a small sound of amusement, before he reaches out with his hand to rub the back of Iruka’s neck. “We’ll see. But that’s not what I’m asking, baby.”

Iruka pretends he doesn’t hear the question and goes for the safest, more generic possible answer he can cough out. He also drizzles it with true, rich as honey sincerity because, “Your family is wonderful. And they’re very nice. I’m really touched and honored you let me meet them.”

Most people don’t.

He never met Daichi’s family. Any of them. And Daichi had a big family.

Mizuki’s family (meaning his grandfather and father), he only met by accident. In the middle of a busy street, even. It wasn’t like Mizuki went out of his way to bring Iruka over to his house. It was always Mizuki in the Sarutobi household whenever Hiruzen was on a business trip. It’s the only safe space they can fool around in safety and comfort, which was mostly Iruka getting his face fucked and getting cum all over it.

So this is really nice.

Unnecessary in the long run, maybe. But still nice.

It’s not like he and Daddyrama are on the road of forever.

He should probably stop mentally referring to him as Daddyrama, too.

Quick! Chew bone of distraction! Fly!

“I don’t usually get introduced to my boyfriend’s family. So this is really nice…” Iruka adds, looking out the window. “A little new, you can say. But nice.”

Tobirama hums, giving Iruka’s hand another gentle squeeze. He’s not entirely convinced by the response.

Tobirama is proven right when they reach the apartment and Iruka proceeds to walk towards the bathroom. Tobirama lets him be, giving him a few minutes of space, watching him from the open doorway. Iruka spends a little too much time washing his hands, washing his face, brushing his hair. He spends a little too much time getting out of his clothes too. When Iruka pauses as he picks up Tobirama’s old university t-shirt, that’s when Tobirama knows that his gut feeling isn’t wrong.

Something is off.

Tobirama rounds the bed, coming to stand before Iruka who still hasn’t tugged the t-shirt on, a distant expression on his boy’s face, like he’s lost in thought. Tobirama gently grasps him by the chin, tipping Iruka’s face upwards so he can look at his boy.

This close, it’s obvious - the dulled expression in Iruka’s usually very bright eyes. Even though Iruka doesn’t shy away from him and Iruka smiles anyway, finally tugging the shirt on, dislodging Tobirama’s fingers. It doesn’t erase that dullness in Iruka’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Tobirama murmurs, assessing Iruka from top to bottom, trying to gauge what is disturbing him.

Iruka isn’t the kind to lie.

That much Tobirama has come to understand. It’s one of the many things he appreciates. Iruka is so proper and obedient as a sub that he requires little to almost no discipline.

So this hesitance is something that makes Tobirama frown deeply.

Iruka meets his gaze, not shying away from it. He doesn’t answer immediately, the words seeming to die at the tip of his tongue when he parts his lips to speak. The silence that elongates between them does nothing to alleviate the concern seeping past Tobirama’s ribcage, making him suck in a slow, measuring breath as he continues to examine Iruka’s micro-movements further.

“I’m not comfortable talking about it right now,” Iruka finally says and looks away, whatever traces of his pleasant mood earlier completely gone. Or maybe it was never pleasant to begin with. Maybe he was just never comfortable meeting his family. Maybe it was just too soon. Too overwhelming. Too much. “But when I’m ready, I will let you know.”

Tobirama almost contests the statement, or at least almost asks a few more questions to get a better sense of direction of what may have upset Iruka. His boy had been nervous about the whole thing. Iruka didn’t demonstrate any resistance. It was more along the lines of, what if they don’t like me, or do I look okay.

There are plenty of things Tobirama had not been impressed with when it came to his brothers’ playful teasing. The lobby café interrogation didn’t even bother Iruka. He had been more embarrassed by his limp and the fact that his for-Daddy’s-pleasure-only present (as Iruka called it) got witnessed by his brothers.

Tobirama knows he can squeeze it out of Iruka if he so wants. He can get it out of him if he pushes just a little more.

But that is not what Iruka needs right now.

Not when his boy looks like he’s concentrating on keeping himself together, when he gently pushes away from Tobirama and says, “I should go home, if that’s okay. I need to think for a little while. I’ll take the train.”

To say that he is taken aback would be an understatement.

The disappointment slams into Tobirama then. It only grows with each passing second.

“I’ll drop you home,” Tobirama says.

“I would like to take the train, please,” Iruka says again, voice softer but insistent as he takes a step back. “Just… I’ll take the train. I’ll text you when I get home.”

The smile Iruka gives him then is the dullest thing Tobirama has seen on his beautiful boy.

It’s all just wrong.

*

True to his word, Iruka does text him about thirty minutes later, which is roughly the length of his commute. Iruka refused to be even walked to the train station, shaking his head and just giving Tobirama’s hand a bit of a squeeze. Iruka kissed his cheek and left quietly.

Not once did the word Daddy leave his mouth.

To say that Tobirama doesn’t get upset about the whole ordeal would be a lie.

But this isn’t about him.

Iruka needs his space to think.

Tobirama will give that to him.

He just hopes Iruka doesn’t take too long.

*

Iruka doesn’t quite ignore Tobirama. If anything, Iruka seems to behave normally. Partially.

Iruka allows himself to be kissed on the temple when they see each other at the lobby café. He still kisses Tobirama on the cheek, too.

What Iruka does turn down though are the invitations to either dinner or lunch. Both of which Iruka had looked at him either through a video-call or in person at the lobby café and said, no, please. Not yet.

It takes six days that feels far too long, like it’s not six days at all, for Iruka to say something.

They are in the lobby café when Iruka sees him and smiles, waving a hand from where is sitting on the bench table, scribbling away on his plugged tablet. Tobirama joins him, bringing with him Iruka’s favorite cookie, sitting beside him as opposed to across from him, a hand brushing down Iruka’s back in affection.

There is no small talk this time. Iruka just gets to it with, “Do you have time today?”

Tobirama hums. “I’ll be done by eight-thirty.”

“Then… I’ll see you tonight?” Iruka asks, softly, almost a little too hesitantly.

Tobirama frowns at that. He doesn’t like that.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

*

The car ride is quiet, with Iruka mostly staring out the window with a far away look in his eyes. He is holding Tobirama’s hand in both of his, smoothing Tobirama’s knuckles with absent, soft caresses.

When they reach the apartment, Iruka doesn’t unzip his jacket. He shrugs off his bag and carefully lowers it by the genkan, heading towards the living room, looking around the apartment, taking everything in like he’s seeing it for the first time.

If Tobirama had any patience left in his body, it leaves him when Iruka brushes his hand over the backrest of the sectional sofa, looking past the window, slender, lean shoulders dropping. Tobirama crosses over to his boy, gently taking hold of both his shoulders, turning Iruka around, grasping his chin, tipping Iruka’s face upwards so he can look into Iruka’s eyes.

Tobirama’s eyebrows stitches together, lips pressing to a bit of a thin line when predictably, Iruka’s gaze slides off him, the color dropping from his entire face. There is a look of shame on his boy’s face along resignation. Tobirama’s eyebrow raises at that, as he takes apart everything that has happened from the moment Iruka was cornered in the cafe by Kawarama and Itama, meeting Hashirama and the entirety of brunch. 

Everything seemed to have gone well from Tobirama’s perspective. Nothing stands out to what may have caused Iruka to shift from his usual, wonderfully warm and open self to this guarded and walled off thing that stands before Tobirama.

It must have happened during brunch.

The shift happened after brunch.

Before Tobirama can tell Iruka to explain to him what’s wrong, Iruka beats him to it.

“I have something to tell you that I think you won’t be pleased by. I’ve been thinking about it for the past week since brunch and I think what I’m about to tell you may result in us going our separate ways…” Iruka says softly, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

Everything in Tobirama tightens in the wake of those words.

Separate ways, Iruka says.

Something clearly went very, very wrong during brunch.

Tobirama tips his chin down in a short nod. He allows Iruka to take his hands, guiding him towards the sofa, tugging him down to sit. Iruka then pulls his hands away, first placing it on his knees and then decides against it in favor of wrapping his arms around his middle instead.

Nothing about Iruka’s posture right now eases the twisting tightness in Tobirama’s chest. It twists the thing in him to a tighter knot instead, pulling an eyebrow up with it, a frown curving his lips. Iruka seems nervous, dare Tobirama thinks even scared. This is the most anxious Tobirama has seen Iruka — an ugly picture, so very wrong when his boy should always be happy, should always have the suns of the entire galaxy glowing in the depths of his beautiful, expressive brown eyes. His boy shouldn’t be this dull, should never be this pallid in pallor. The happy flush on his cheeks that is always present every time Iruka is in Tobirama’s orbit is nowhere to be seen. 

“What is it?” Tobirama prompts, the barest hint of frustration starting to pool at the base of his stomach. 

“I…” Iruka starts off, his gaze dropping to his knees.

Tobirama takes hold of Iruka’s chin once more, tipping it upwards, holding it firmly in place, patience wearing thinner by the second. His other hand comes to rest on the back of Iruka’s neck, giving it a squeeze. Iruka’s eyes close briefly, a soft sigh leaving his lips - at least Iruka still reacts to it. At least, even now, with whatever it is that has his boy so tightly wound up and closed off, Tobirama’s touch can still elicit the response he wants and expects. 

Iruka sucks in a slow breath and opens his eyes.

But he doesn’t quite meet Tobirama’s gaze, even though he doesn’t pull away from Tobirama’s hold. 

“Iruka.” 

“When we were at brunch, when your family asked how we met, Hashirama-san said something about us being in love, which you responded to by saying, silence, Anija. Very firmly.” Iruka shrugs a little. “I figured, from the way you responded that that was something that cannot be in the realm of possibility, which I’m fine with but I don’t think we should continue to see each other if it is to remain one-sided. Which it is. Has been, I realize, from my side. I think we shouldn’t continue given that it’s clearly not something you want from that response.”

What.

“Maybe I should have been a little more careful. You don’t make it easy to fall in love with you, you know and I just…” Iruka tapers off. “I couldn't help it, I guess. But I’m not going to stay in a relationship when it is clearly not wanted. I’ve done that twice. I’m not going to do that again.”

Tobirama blinks, both his eyebrows high on his forehead.

So that’s what it is.

He didn’t silence Hashirama because he was against it. 

He did so because it wasn’t an appropriate thing to say on their first time together as a family, when it was a private matter and had no business being so casually thrown around a brunch table. Even if Tobirama’s chest fills with the warmest of affection every time he wakes up and has his boy pressed so very close the length of his body in the mornings. Even when the softest parts of him seem to pulse with fulfillment at having Iruka as completely his, at Iruka’s surrender to his control, how Iruka seems to be so happy in doing so, so very fulfilled.

It would seem that it was more than that.

Which doesn’t displease Tobirama in the slightest.

If anything, he is confused as to why Iruka thinks he wouldn’t want Iruka’s love at all.

Tobirama thought that Iruka understands that he doesn't invest time in anyone he didn’t want. Or anyone he didn’t want to keep.

Clearly, that is not the case.

“Iruka…” Tobirama sighs softly, the tight press of his lips easing to something softer. “I didn’t silence Anija because what he said was wrong. I did so because that was a private matter and he was being very inappropriate.”

Iruka looks at him then, blinking, caught off guard.

“You’re mine,” Tobirama says, firm, sure, because Iruka is his. He belongs to no one else but him. “I wouldn’t keep you if I felt nothing for you, baby.” 

Iruka’s face morphs to one of shock, a bit of color returning to the apples of his cheeks. A pleasing sight, something Tobirama sweeps a thumb over, feeling the warmth of Iruka’s growing blush under his thumb when he cups Iruka’s face. 

“O-Oh…”

Tobirama hums, watching as the dullness in Iruka’s gaze starts to clear, the suns of the universe starting to gradually brighten like the rise of the sun over the horizon in the deep, amber depths. 

As it always should be.

“I thought you knew that by now,” Tobirama says, raising an eyebrow. “Were you so worried that Daddy wouldn’t want you just because you’re in love with your Daddy?”

“Well…” Iruka swallows. “Yes?”

Tobirama sighs again, shaking his head. “Do you not trust your Daddy, baby? 

“I do…” Iruka says, not a trace of hesitation, his cheeks staining a darker red. Iruka bites his lower lip, his pulse starting to race under Tobirama's palm. “But… I mean… I’m not much. I didn’t really expect–”

“–don’t ever say that about yourself,” Tobirama cuts off firmly, his thumb sweeping over the lower curve of Iruka’s lips. Self deprecating words like I’m not much should never leave his boy’s beautiful mouth. It should never even form. “You’re more than that. Do you think I would want to be with anyone less if they ‘weren’t much’?” 

Iruka’s face is so very hot under Tobirama’s palm. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to imply that you…” Iruka swallows, looking nervous.

Tobirama huffs a soft breath, his fingers squeezing the nape of Iruka’s neck. 

Tobirama understands what the warmth in his chest is. 

The way Tobirama’s thoughts seem to always gravitate towards Iruka, the way hethinks of his boy when he sees something that Iruka might like, that might make his lovely mouth curl up to that wondrous smile, dusting his cheeks with a happy flush. The way Tobirama’s day seems to just start in the most perfect way possible whenever he wakes up with Iruka in his arms, comfortably tucked against his side, cheek on his chest, the smell of oranges and cinnamon filling Tobirama’s lungs with each breath he takes. The way Iruka just seems to gravitate towards him even when they’re across the lobby, with a great distance between them, always knowing when to look up, always finding Tobirama, drawn to him like a moth to the flame that is Tobirama’s presence. The way Iruka always seems to need his Daddy to ground him, when he runs himself ragged with hard, earnest work, always striving to do better, always so very ambitious. The way Iruka surrenders every part of himself so willingly on his knees, offering himself, his body, his breath, all of it to the altar Tobirama stands upon.

It can only mean one thing.

Because what else could it possibly be except:

“Daddy loves you, baby,” Tobirama murmurs. 

Iruka’s eyes blow wide, lips parting open in a shocked inhale. Like he didn’t think he’d be worthy of Tobirama’s love and affection, like he truly believed he isn’t much at all.

What a foolish and silly notion for Iruka to have.

Tobirama presses their foreheads together. “Who do you belong to?” 

“You.”

“Do you trust me to take care and cherish you?” 

Iruka blinks, eyes turning glassy, salt filming his eyes that brightens, his cheeks turning redder, eyelashes starting to clump with tears, that Tobirama gently swipe off with a thumb from the corner of Iruka’s eyes before they trickle down his warm cheek.

Iruka nods, a soft, breathless, disbelieving sob ripping past his throat, lips pulling to a smile so bright. A smile that shoulds never fade from his boy’s face, his lips. “Yes…” 

Tobirama hums with approval. “Good boy.”

He pulls Iruka into his arms, dragging him over his lap, wrapping his arms around his perfect boy, who holds on to him tightly, face buried in the warm crook of Tobirama’s neck. 

“I love you, Daddy,” Iruka whispers shyly, soldiers hunching a little bit, as if shrinking into himself. “I have for a while now…”

To hear the words leave Iruka’s lips, it feels like everything around him just got a little brighter.

*

Iruka is sitting crossed legged hunched over his tablet, scribbling away while humming quite happily when the smell of woody spiced rose and deep earthy amber musk fills his nose. Kawarama perches beside Iruka on the bench, leaning against the table, elbow propped on the surface while Itama stands beside him.

“Hello~” Kawarama greets, grinning at Iruka. 

“Hi, Kawarama-san, Itama-san,” Iruka beams, dimples dotting both his cheeks, a whole lot more confident and cheerful than he’d been all week. 

“How are you today, Iruka-kun?” Itama asks, a soft smile on his lips. 

“I’m okay,” Iruka says, nodding. “Just, you know, the usual.”

He shows them the comic book drawing of a villainous creature with mechanical octopus arms on his tablet, which earns him looks approval from Itama and a whistle from Kawarama, who quickly leans over, takes Iruka’s tablet and holds it out,  wraps an arm around Iruka’s shoulders and says, “Smile!” 

Iruka happily does this time, throwing up a peace sign. 

His phone pings beside him with an alert moments after Kawarama uploads the story into his instagram account, complete with stickers and Iruka’s screenname tagged.

“Aniki really has good taste having you as a boyfriend, Iruka-kun~” Kawarama says, staring at the tablet once more.

And as always, Itama is quick to interject and explain, “What he means, Iruka-kun, is that we're glad Aniki has you. You seem to make Aniki quite happy.” 

Iruka flushes, biting his lower lip, looking down at his tablet. “I… he makes me really happy too…”

Iruka squawks when he finds himself once more under Kawarama's arm, who gives him an affectionate shake, grinning, “So adorable~ Hey, you think you can get away from drawing for a bit? We’re just about to get lunch across the street. Do you like toasties? They have a new range of toasties - there’s this really good one I’ve been wanting to try.”

“Iruka-kun might enjoy the blue and blackberry brie toastie,” Itama says, quite pleased with himself.

They’re… bribing him with food.

Iruka looks past Sun Tower’s rotating glass doors, then back up at the towering Senju giants.

What should have been hesitation from the uncertainty of what he is to Tobirama now surfaces as confidence and a happy flush, a willingness to be with Tobirama’s most precious people because they are a big part of Tobirama’s life, his beloved family. This is an extension of his Daddy.

Iruka sucks in a slow breath and locks his tablet.

There is only one answer to this invitation and it comes out warm and more than happy.

“I would love to.”