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(no subject)

[ All right, that didn't go well.

Kakashi can feel the heated stares of dozens of unhappy council members as he leads Byakuran out the door of the chambers, through the hallway, and out of building entirely. It's bright outside, with the sun shining in a cloudless blue sky high above their heads, and he has his hand pressed lightly against Byakuran's back, guiding him along as they move.

The council never seems to be very happy with him these days, and Kakashi really -- can't bring himself to care. In the end, it's his word over theirs, especially when it comes to this particular matter, and though they have a tremendous amount of authority over him, there's still . . . not a lot they can do to make him cooperate.

He plays by his own rules. They already know that.

He lifts his free hand to block the sun from his eyes, fingers curling in against a gloved palm as he glances down at Byakuran. ]

Are you all right?

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[ He's still trembling after that outburst (carefully calculated with the right amount of trauma, of hysteria, and so flawlessly pulled off) and shaken. Byakuran is pale, too, the air of someone forced to relive something they want so badly to forget.

His fingers clench, unclench, and he doesn't respond for a moment. Even if months have passed and Byakuran had gained a healthier glow as well as an incurable sweet tooth, he's regressed during the past few weeks. Not eating, not allowing anyone else near him during the interrogations.

There's a panicked light in his eyes that hasn't completely gone, and he's skittish when Kakashi leads him away. ]

I don't remember. I don't remember anything.

I know, Byakuran.

We'll go home now.

[ Byakuran doesn't move away from him, clings to him like a drowning man to a life raft - and that's the problem, isn't it? That this is not a man - a boy barely out of his teens.

He doesn't return the smile, his gaze distant and faraway, as if reliving a certain memory or two. It takes a lot of effort to fool someone as brilliant as Kakashi is, so many sacrifices to make, so many things to do and to be aware of, but Byakuran does them all anyway.

He needs Kakashi, needs him by his side - and no pain he has to inflict on himself, no act he has to fake is too much even for him. He makes a soft noise under his breath, as if he's trying to calm himself down. He doesn't let anyone else brush against him, plastered firmly against Kakashi's side and eying the crowd with no small amount of distrust. ]

...All right.

[ The teen waits in silence, fidgeting all the while, as if unmindful of the reprisals that his lack of answers gives. The amount of things that ride on his testimonial. But no, he bides his time still - it's not right, not yet.

But here, now - he knows that he would need to give Kakashi extra incentive not to pry, not to blow his cover yet, something else to distract him with and to hold his attention for. He looks at his hands, then - still shaky - before he clasps them together tightly. ]

...They're cruel people, aren't they?

-- They're hard people.

Don't worry. All right?

Mm.

[ A barely audible answer, and he relaxes, just a little, when the door closes. He meets his eyes carefully, before he exhales. It's good here, like this - in their own little world where no one can interrupt. This is good, right?

In all his months of being here, he's comfortable in the other's presence, more than aware of his place with him, the sole living relative in the entire family. His gaze flickers over to the wine bottle, then back to Kakashi. ]

Will you be in trouble?

I'm always in trouble.

But you don't need to worry about that either.

[ Byakuran's always been catlike in his affections, and his eyes lid at Kakashi's touch. He's used to the brief, sparse gestures of subtle affection from the normally stoic man, has learned to read him almost, almost as well as he does others. He's an enigma, you see - surprising and unpredictable in so many ways.

He goes to reach for a bottle of wine, then - and two glasses, setting them on the table. He chooses his words carefully, intent on drawing closer to him. ]

...You keep telling me that.

I only tell you that because it's true. You don't need to worry.

[ He pours a glass for the both of them - a potent, mixture of alcohol that he had found before, and bought on a whim. He sets the bottle down with a muted, quiet thud, before he looks up at him and waits.

He's aware, of course, of Kakashi's habits, had observed him discreetly long enough to know what triggers those bouts of drinking. ]

...I'm sorry you got into so much trouble.

-- Ah?

It's fine.

[ He doesn't wait for Kakashi to start, and pretends to take a sip, simply wetting his lips. He takes his time about it, not minding Kakashi as he looks to be deep in his own thoughts.

This is better, right? More natural.

He sets it down, then - and makes a face. ]

It's awful.

You just have to get used to it.

They'll stop, eventually.

[ Byakuran doesn't bat an eyelid, but his gaze lingers a little longer than it really should. Wrong, right? To feel a spark of attraction to a relative, but Byakuran's gone too far beyond petty little things like these, and his glance flickers back to the wineglass again, eying it contemplatively.

He doesn't want to talk about them, and he looks up again, at the scar that does nothing to mar the face in the least. In fact, it's actually enhanced - and it leaves no doubt in his mind that good looks definitely run in the Hatake side of the family.

He takes another sip - letting only a few drops stain his lips, delightfully bitter and almost overwhelming in its taste. ] Do you really think so?

Yeah. They'll get tired of asking the same things over and over.

If they don't?

[ It's spoken after a long pause, and Byakuran doesn't look at him, settling for studying the red of the alcohol. His thumb smudges over the clear glass, unsettled. The man is good-looking in the confines of their home, the family resemblance near uncanny, and Byakuran cannot help but look up at him again.

Odd, really - the way he's charmed by him, but he's not disturbed about it in the least. It's much stronger, more potent for a reason, and he waits it out, looks for the perfect chance to strike. It's been long decided, after all - Byakuran wants him. And nothing is going to stop the teen from getting him. ]

Then I'll make them stop.

[ Indeed, Kakashi is one of the hardest people to convince. More intelligent, much sharper than anyone else, living with him has been like living on the edge of a knife, in a place where it's the most risky. But Byakuran had decided to bank on that reckless move, to see it through, and here he is, exactly where he wants to be. He doesn't look at him, still - as far as they're both concerned, it's simply a drinking session. He toys with his glass, another sip and a face. He prefers marshmallows, he supposes.

But he looks mildly surprised at the answer - the answer he's sought for the longest time. He pours another glass for him, careful to not let him drink himself under the table, but enough so that he would be sufficiently inebriated and reckless. He smiles, then. Soft, sweet.

Grateful. ] Thank you, uncle.

[ Another sip. What is family for, indeed. ]

[ And oh, there it is, the inexplicable loosening of inhibitions and the like. The man is more relaxed now, and the teen fills his glass again, just a little mire, deliberately brushing his fingers across his and scooting closer. He smiles then, softly. ] You've kept me sane all these months, I really don't know how I can properly thank you.

[ He settles next to him and hands him a glass, pretending to be a little tipsy himself as well, feeling a thrill of excitement running down his spine. How long has he planned for this, down to the littlest detail? ] So, uncle, a toast.

You're always thanking me. It's embarrassing.

[ He laughs quietly at that - at how he says this, at the desire that coils within Byakuran when he says it. He gently takes the glass away when the glass is drained and waits, fingers moving over Kakashi's.

He's closer now, the tiny sips he had of the wine spread on his tongue, just barely enough evidence that he had been drinking as well. Knocking the empty glass over, he twines his fingers with his uncle's, pale mischief in soft lavender eyes.

He's moving, now - closing in his silken web, wrapping around Kakashi so sweetly that he can never leave. ] It's because I have something to confess to you.

Mmn? To me?

To you. [ He agrees playfully, moving in further to press his nose against his in a lazily affectionate manner, before pressing his lips lightly against Kakashi's in a brief, barely there kiss.

He's laughing again then - pulling away a little. ] I'm in love with you, uncle.