Winter Morning
AUTHOR: kasarin (
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kasarin/FANDOM: Naruto
RATING: General Audiences
CHARACTERS: Kisame, Itachi, Obito
RELATIONSHIPS: Kisame/Itachi/Obito
TAGS: AU - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Polyamory, Domestic Fluff
SUMMARY:
Winter was never Kisame's favorite time of year. But that was before he began spending lazy winter mornings with Obito and Itachi.
Winter was never Kisame's favorite time of the year. It was charming for a few weeks, especially when the snow was fresh and the houses were decorated with dancing lights, celebrating the solstice. He enjoyed strapping dog boots on Samehada and taking her for walks down pretty streets, admiring the decorations—and letting Samehada spoil a few with yellow snow. But the novelty wore off after the lights came down, leaving behind nothing but irritatingly cold weather and a slow crawl toward the loneliest holiday of the year.
But that was before Kisame met Obito and Itachi. That was before his lonely existence was filled by two men who burned hot and cold, their eyes commanding attention, their hard-won smiles—one broad, one subdued—bringing light to the darkest corners of Kisame's life. That was before he stopped having to split Valentine's Day between two boyfriends and started spending it with both, grinning as he witnessed Obito and Itachi smiling at each other, their fingers entwined. That was before Kisame's house became their house, the queen bed exchanged for a king, the trials of introducing the cats Kamui and Kunai finally conquered.
Now, Kisame's only complaint during winter is that he can't spend the entire season cuddled up in bed with his partners.
Waking up is a bit of a process, what with three men sharing the same bed. Kisame is rarely the first to awaken, tucked in the middle as he is—a position they settled on through trial and error, discovering that placing Kisame elsewhere didn't work. (He "migrated," or so he was grumpily informed, gradually curling closer and closer to his lovers until he pushed the farthest one off the bed.) The middle is superbly cozy, a nest of strong limbs, warm skin, and soft black hair. So it makes sense that Kisame usually doesn't stir until Itachi starts making coffee, the smell rousing Obito, who wakes Kisame in turn.
This morning is a rare exception. Kisame awakens with his arms curled around Obito and Itachi's shoulders, Obito's breath against his neck, Itachi's against his chest. The room is chilly, the heat turned down so that Kisame doesn't drown in sweat beneath their mountain of blankets—a mountain that Obito insisted on, and Itachi instantly came to love. But between his two lovers, Kisame is perfectly toasty. He raises his head just enough to check on Samehada, finding the pit bull curled behind Obito's knees, Kamui and Kunai cuddled beside her. Then he lets his head fall back to his pillow, smiling at the ceiling.
Seconds later, Itachi stirs, his silky hair sliding over Kisame's skin as he shifts. Kisame looks down, meeting dark eyes illuminated by grayish predawn light, pale skin stark against the blankets.
Sorry, Kisame mouths, stroking a lock of Itachi's hair. He should have realized that any movement would wake Itachi, the lightest sleeper by far.
Itachi shakes his head, dismissing the apology. Then he looks across Kisame's chest, spotting Obito with his head buried in Kisame's shoulder.
"He's still asleep?" Itachi whispers, his deep voice smooth despite its disuse.
Kisame gives a slight nod. "No nightmares," he whispers in return, answering the unasked question.
Itachi nods. Then he reaches out, slender fingers ghosting through Obito's hair, brushing the unruly mess back from Obito's face.
Obito sighs against Kisame's neck. Itachi's lips twitch in a slight smile. Then he nudges Kisame's arm, silently requesting freedom to escape the bed. Kisame reluctantly acquiesces, watching as Itachi worms his way out of the pile of blankets. Then Itachi pulls on one of Kisame's shirts—it nearly hits his knees—and pads out of the room.
In the early days, Kisame might have asked Itachi to stay in bed, insisting that he would make coffee and tea instead. Now, Kisame knows better. This routine is one that Itachi enjoys, any tension unwinding as he prepares pots of tea and coffee, his expression brightening when Obito and Kisame take their first sips. It's one of the ways Itachi shows he cares, a daily gift that requires no words or grandiose gestures.
And in Kisame's (admittedly biased) opinion, drinks made by Itachi taste far better, anyway.
As the aroma of brewing coffee wafts into the bedroom, Obito stirs, his arm sliding from Kisame's chest to his waist. Tugging himself impossibly closer, Obito presses a kiss to Kisame's shoulder and mumbles, "Morning already?"
"Already," Kisame confirms, smiling at the extra roughness sleep lends Obito's voice.
Obito hums. Then he kisses Kisame again—one, two, three more times, bringing the total to four, a morning ritual all his own. ("One kiss for every year," Obito explained once, his smile turning devious when Kisame asked what would happen when they hit certain milestones.)
"You have a few animals behind you," Kisame warns.
"Aren't I lucky. You'd better move first, then. Samehada won't budge unless you're up."
Kisame refrains from revealing that Itachi can make Samehada move when she decides to sleep behind Itachi's knees. Instead, Kisame does as he's told, kissing Obito's forehead before maneuvering his way out from beneath Blanket Mountain.
The chilliness of the room hits him all at once. Shivering, Kisame hurries to pull on a pair of sweatpants, a process made more difficult when Samehada hops out of bed and starts nudging his legs.
"I know, girl," Kisame mumbles distractedly, looking for his shirt. Then, remembering Itachi's theft, he resigns himself to shirtlessness for the moment, switching his focus to finding a pair of warm socks.
"Hey."
Kisame turns, finding Obito sitting up in bed, the dim light casting shadows over his scars. Obito crooks a finger, beckoning Kisame closer; Kisame obeys, moving to Obito's side and bending at the waist, his lips immediately caught in a lingering kiss.
"Do me a favor, big boy," Obito murmurs when their lips part, his fingers brushing Kisame's bare shoulder. "Stay dressed like this today."
Kisame laughs. "If I do that, you'll have to keep me warm…"
Obito hums and kisses Kisame again. "I can do that," he promises, then inhales sharply as Kisame nips his lips, his fingernails pressing against Kisame's shoulder.
Samehada whines at Kisame's feet. With a final peck on the tip of Obito's nose, Kisame reluctantly grabs his socks and heads out of the bedroom, Samehada at his heels.
Itachi is in the kitchen, busy near the stove. Kisame steals precisely two seconds to admire Itachi's long, bare legs, simultaneously wondering how Itachi can tolerate the chilly air. Then he checks the thermostat—already turned up—and dons his coat and boots, ready to take Samehada outside.
Later in the day, Kisame will strap boots on Samehada's paws, bundle her in a dog coat, and brave the cold for a proper walk. But for now, it's enough to wander through the backyard, following Samehada as she sniffs and marks, sniffs and marks. The rising sun paints the sky in purples and pinks, the brightest stars still shining in the west. Kisame gazes at them, his breath rising in a white plume, a smile lingering on his lips.
Before he met Itachi and Obito, Kisame avoided waking up early on his days off. Now, he wouldn't think of missing their morning routine—and if he tried, Samehada would keep him in line.
When he glances toward the kitchen window, Kisame's wistful smile turns into a grin. Itachi and Obito are just visible, their attention solely on each other. Obito is standing behind Itachi, a blanket wrapped around them both, his lips brushing Itachi's ear. Itachi wears a tiny smile, his eyelids half-lowered, one hand raised to caress Obito's scarred cheek.
What are they talking about? Or are they talking at all? Kisame watches for a few moments more, seeing that their lips don't move—but they do, swaying slightly as though to music.
Warmth floods through Kisame's chest, his smile so wide that his chilly cheeks start to ache. It's hard to imagine that Obito and Itachi clashed when they first met, each finding the other nigh incomprehensible. For a while, they even tried competing over Kisame, turning their relationships with him into a competition with each other. But they worked it out eventually, realizing the similarities buried beneath fire and ice, appreciating the loyalty burning in each other's hearts. Watching Itachi and Obito fall in love was one of the great highlights of Kisame's life. And now, as he sees them slowly swaying in a sweet embrace, Kisame wonders how he ever lived without both of them in his home, his bed, his life.
Itachi's half-lidded eyes open wider, fixing on Kisame. His lips move, then Obito looks out at Kisame as well, eyebrows raised expectantly. Well? their expressions seem to ask. Are you staying in the cold, or are you coming inside?
Kisame rounds up Samehada and heads back indoors, shedding boots and coat before making his way to the kitchen.
"You took your time," Obito says, still wrapped around Itachi.
"I was enjoying the view," Kisame says, stepping behind them. Neither of his lovers is a small man; however, Kisame is far taller and broader, with long, strong arms. So it's no difficulty for Kisame to wrap both Obito and Itachi in his arms, happily squishing Obito in the middle.
"Kisame, your hands are cold," Itachi points out mildly. Then he lays his free hand over one of Kisame's as if hoping to warm it.
"Well, it is cold outside. And someone stole my shirt…"
"Your shirt wouldn't warm your hands."
"So says the thief in question…"
Obito laughs. Kisame giggles. Itachi exhales a soft chuckle that might have been missed were it not for how closely they're pressed together.
"Come on," Itachi says, giving Kisame's hand a tap. "Your drinks will get cold."
Reluctantly, Kisame relinquishes his hold on his lovers and picks up his mug—Itachi has given him tea today. Then he leads the way to their living room and opens the curtains, revealing the gradually lightening sky.
Obito takes a seat on one end of the sofa, Kisame on the other. Itachi settles between them, sitting primly for the five seconds it takes Obito and Kisame to scoot closer, throwing blankets across their collective lap and back. Then they settle together, talking quietly, caffeine and conversation gradually erasing the last vestiges of sleepiness.
Samehada, Kamui, and Kunai join them soon enough, stretching across feet, laps, and the back of the sofa, respectively. Itachi idly pets Kamui; Obito surrenders his feet for Samehada to use as a pillow; Kisame stretches an arm over the back of the sofa, giving Kunai something to curl against. As though on instinct, both Itachi and Obito settle deeper into the sofa, leaning against Kisame's arm and each other.
Smiling, Kisame falls quiet, utterly content to watch as his lovers talk and sip their drinks. Outside, the winter sky continues to brighten; and although Kisame knows the weather will be cold and the daylight short, there's no time or place he'd rather be.
Author's Notes:
crossposted to ao3 here.