Your SFW doodles and drabbles for June 2024 DDN go here 
It was an ordinary day when Iruka’s house of cards came tumbling down. There were no fireworks. It was neither rainy nor stormy. Just the usual sunshine-and-blue-sky afternoon. Iruka didn’t even know that the house of cards was falling at the time.
He was training when he received the summons. He assumed it was for a mission, though what kind of mission would require an actual, personal order from the Hokage, Iruka had no idea.
He was called into the office as soon as he arrived. And the Sandaime told him, “Iruka, I’d like you to meet Kakashi and Naruto.”
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fwoosh
“Kakashi! Knock that off!” Iruka called out from his desk. Paper airplanes were not ok right now. And Iruka was cranky and wished the sound of paper moving had a different source. Like any kind of air movement on such a hit, muggy day. Why did he have to be stuck here, inside, with perpetual child Kakashi again?
“You’re no fun, Iruka!” Kakashi whined.
“We could go have fun if we got this work done.”
There was silence, and then the rustle of paper. Finally back to work.
And then a slight breeze on the back of Iruka’s neck.
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Kakashi felt like he was doing something nefarious by sliding through the pet store door 20 minutes before closing time. He wasn’t. He wasn’t.
It wasn’t his fault that an emergency replacement goldfish needed to be procured barely one full day after Naruto had received it. Which didn’t stop Kakashi from feeling guilty just imagining Naruto’s reaction upon waking to a belly-up fish in his bowl.
He didn’t have very long either until Iruka would be back from picking up… what was it? Ramen. For a late night snack.
Or not. Because that ponytail at the tanks looked very familiar…
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Iruka heard the door close just as he was pulling his head—and a tray of lemon rolls—out of the oven.
“Kakashi!” He hoped Kakashi could hear the excitement in his voice. “How does the stall look?” He turned and set the tray on the counter to cool, then felt arms snake around his waist, and a kiss on his neck.
“It looks great. A warmer, a cooler, and all the hookups we need for our equipment. Sakura’s in charge of decorating. Naruto’s stocking.”
Iruka grinned and rolled his eyes. They would definitely have the most… interesting… stall at the festival.
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Naruto slammed the door open as he barreled into the kitchen, yelling, “Iruka! What’s there to eat?!” He didn’t wait for an answer before sticking his head in the fridge.
Iruka thumped him on the back of the head.
“Nothing in there! Kakashi has a bowl of watermelon on the back deck. And ‘hello’ to you, too.”
“Yeah, yeah, hi. Watermelon, again?! Whyyyyyyyy…” Naruto whined.
Iruka looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
“Who was it that wanted everyone to wear watermelon helmets to the game this weekend…?”
Naruto looked abashed. “Me.”
“Seven helmets means four watermelons. Eat up!”
(They are talking about these:
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“What do you think of this one?” asked Kakashi, holding up an eye searingly orange yukata.
“He’ll love it, but I’ll end up having to ‘accidentally’ spill paint or something on it within 5 minutes of him putting it on,” Iruka commented. He was only exaggerating a little.
Kakashi grimaced. That was certainly true.
“Maybe we can find a more muted orange? More rusty? Or mixed into a variety of other colours?”
Iruka looked at the other yukata in Naruto’s size. There wasn’t a lot of colour choice. The one Kakashi held up was the only orange Iruka could see.
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Iruka was in one of his favourite places: curled up with Kakashi.
They had a blanket thrown over their shoulders against the evening’s chill, though the sand was still warm from the heat of the day. There was just enough breeze to bring up a few waves to lap at their toes. Iruka could hear the faintest sound of the wind chimes hanging from the boat house’s deck.
Iruka sighed and cuddled even closer, leaning his head on Kakashi’s shoulder, as Kakashi wrapped his arm around Iruka’s waist.
Iruka wished he could stay here forever—warm, cozy, wrapped in love.
“Iruka-nii!!!”
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Iruka’s head was down. He was concentrating deeply on the map in front of him, when there was a thunderous roar on the roof of his car. Iruka’s head drooped even further and he sighed. Deeply. Why couldn’t the skies have decided to let go after he had arrived at Kakashi’s new place? Now it was going to be even harder to find. Unloading the car didn’t bear thinking about. Iruka just wanted to arrive and get the hug he’d been dreaming of for weeks now. Iruka turned his attention back to the map, running a finger along his route.
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“Kakashi?”
“Hmmmmmmm…”
“What is Pakkun chasing…?”
“Hmmmmmm.”
Iruka twisted around, annoyed.
“Are you even listening to me?” He asked in a deceptively mild tone, looking straight at Kakashi… and his book.
“Mmmmmhmmmmmm…”
“Pakkun is eating a ferret.”
“Hmmmmmmm…”
Iruka snapped out his hand and grabbed the book.
“What? No…” Kakashi finally looked up and blanched when he saw Iruka’s face, but his face went dead white when he looked over Iruka’s shoulder to see Pakkun.
Kakashi lunged for the dog, “Pakkun, don’t eat that!”
Kakashi grabbed Pakkun’s jaw and fished out… a cicada. Gross.
Kakashi hauled Pakkun in to wash.
(Apparently, cicadas can carry fungal spores. Yummy.)
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Iruka dropped his bag and slumped onto the coach. If he had to move again tonight, it would be too soon—the last day of classes was the worst. Well, for a given value of ‘worst’. Most chaotic, for sure. This year’s was a cut above the usual childish chaos, so this year’s last day was more tiring than usual. He loved all his kids, but he was delighted they would be someone else’s problem next year.
“Iruka? Is that you?” Kakashi called out.
“Here…” it was barely a mumble.
“If you can make it to the kitchen, I’ve got ramen!”
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