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Hatake Kakashi can walk through his kitchen in his house that he knows well enough to transverse half-asleep, deep in a genjutsu, or even with just one eye while reading something, when he unexpectedly hits his hip.
He has to put down the newest volume of Icha Icha Paradise to examine what the difference is before he recognizes the issue.
The wooden chairs around the dinner table are different from yesteraday.
Huh.
“Maa. When did we get new chairs?”
“Eh? What the fuck are you on about now, you pervert,” his boyfriend snaps, coming into the kitchen with his usual glower. Obito is always surly, but Kakashi supposes that’s part of his charm.
That and his amazing ass.
“Eyes UP, pervert Hokage.”
“Excuse me,” Kakashi says idly, “for enjoying what was clearly meant to be enjoyed.”
He loves the way Obito’s cheeks heat, how the color permeates the deep grooves, the scars that warp one half of his face, the flesh still coming alive at his taunting. The Uchiha snarls and goes to walk past him, only to also bump into the new chairs.
He glances down with a look of utter disgust.
“What. The fuck. Are these?”
“Dunno. I was just going to ask if you replaced the chairs, but I suppose not with that attitude.”
“If I was gonna change the chairs I would’ve picked something better than this,” Obito sneers, glaring down as if the chairs personally offend him. “Whoever picked them has no fucking taste.”
“I’d like to argue that my taste is best,” says a familiar monotone as Kakashi’s other boyfriend joins them.
Obito glances up with a scowl before bearing his teeth at the other man.
“Oh yeah. The experiment. Like you’d know what style was. It’d have to be programmed into you.”
The lines of Yamato’s mouth twitch, just barely, and Kakashi raises a hand before either of his lovers can activate their respective wood-styles. It’s happened before, and the entire apartment needed refurbishing, and there is no way in hell Kakashi is going to go through that process with two competing Mokuton-users with completely opposing views of furniture preferences.
“Tenzou. Obito. We agreed. No fights that don’t end with me getting to fuck one of you.”
“You can still have that,” Obito promises loosely, eyes fixed on Yamato and a sneer on his lips, “Right after I reintroduce your boyfriend to the fucking floors that he ruined.”
“I’ll be happy to oblige, if I get to explain why you cannot use Mahogany for a traditional Kotatsu—“
“There is no fucking way I wanna hear anything about the Kotatsu, it’s fucking flawless—“
“Flawless, like the coffee table I keep having to replace?”
“Well excuse me for not growing in something firmer than fucking Balsa, like that bedside table that busted under a cup of sake—“
“And speaking of firmness, how is ash wood appropriate for providing structural support to the bed frame—“
“It’s for flexibility, not that you’d know anything about that, with that fucking rod shoved up your ass you piece of—“
“Enough,” Kakashi cuts in sharply. “Don’t make me pull rank.”
Both his lovers shoot him a grimace and grudgingly assume less threatening stances.
“Fuck you, that’s dumb,” Obito grumbles, thick arms folding over his chest in annoyance.
“Sempai,” Yamato says only, disappointment written into the lines of his expression.
Kakashi shrugs.
“My house, my rules. Please. Also. My ANBU guard can only pull my ass out of the mess you two make when you cat fight so many times.”
Obito snorts a laugh and grins Yamato’s way, and mouthes ‘pussy-cat’.
Former ANBU Cat chooses not to smile back, which is his loss, since it was a perfectly good observation.
But it’s been years since Kakashi had to actually pull rank. Instead, he goes for the usual tactic when there’s a fight between his two lovers, and simply starts stripping.
Any disagreement between Obito and Yamato seems to evaporate as Kakashi heads to the bedroom, discarding layers of clothing behind him.
He turns to raise an eyebrow expectantly, and hooks a hand into his low-riding pants as he disappears around the corner.
The two Mokuton-users lock eyes and follow with almost identical smirks.
“Bet you I can break that wimpy-ass bed frame.”
“If you break the bed frame I’ll let you fuck me and restyle the chairs. But if you lose, I’m going to fuck your throat again, and replace the Kotatsu.”
“I’ll let you fuck my throat for free, tree-boy, but don’t fucking touch the Kotatsu,” Obito snarls, but the effect is lost on Yamato, who takes his surly sometimes-lover’s hand and drags him to where Kakashi is naked and waiting for them.