Work Text:
Kakashi discovers Archive of Our Own on a Tuesday afternoon, which is objectively the most dangerous day for him to discover anything.
He’s on his tablet, supposedly editing a stack of minor mission reports—something painfully mundane involving stolen chickens, a drunk jōnin, and a genin who tried to weaponize a teapot. But then he sees it: a hyperlink at the bottom of a comment thread on an Icha Icha discussion forum.
“Read this analysis on AO3.”
Analysis? he thinks.
Good. Research. Productive.
He taps it because he has the self-control of a cat staring at a dangling string.
Archive of Our Own, he reads.
The name sounds dramatic, like something Gai would shout from a rooftop.
He taps on the search bar and types something he has never typed before:
icha icha
The results explode across the screen: thousands of stories, long and short, explicit and not explicit, crossovers that make absolutely no sense, summaries that would give Jiraiya an aneurysm, and tags Kakashi is fairly certain should count as war crimes of some sort.
He swipes. He scrolls. He scrolls more.
The mission reports are abandoned, and Hatake Kakashi has fallen headfirst into the AO3 tag system like someone slipping into quicksand made of questionable metadata and unregulated prose.
“This is research,” he murmurs, to no one.
He taps one fic because the title is clever, then another because the summary makes him snort, then a third because it claims to be “canon compliant” but simultaneously “fixes everything wrong with the original Icha Icha books,” which Kakashi absolutely cannot resist.
Three hours later, he is lying sideways on the couch, hair even messier than usual, one leg falling off the side, tablet dangerously close to slipping out of his hand. His expression is the concentrated furrow he usually reserves for high-stakes intel or the final pages of a new Icha Icha release.
There are so many things to read. He feels overwhelmed in a way he hasn’t felt since his days at the Academy.
Alternate universes. Missing scenes. Fix-its. Modern coffee shop settings for no apparent reason. He taps one at random.
Ten paragraphs in, he stops.
“Oh for— that’s not how metaphor works,” he mutters, rubbing his temples. “Who compares romantic tension to… overcooked rice?”
He goes back. Opens a new one. Grimaces.
“This author doesn’t understand pacing.”
He clicks another.
“A semicolon would fix half their emotional problems.”
He finds one labeled fluff. Unexpectedly wholesome. Boring, even.
Another with a major character death warning.
He slams the back button so fast the tablet squeaks.
But then… after far too much wandering through the site, his gaze lands on something that makes his stomach drop straight through the couch and into the Earth’s core.
Category: Other.
Fandom: Konoha RPF.
Relationship: Hatake Kakashi / Maito Gai
He freezes.
No.
No, no, no.
He scrolls. There are… a lot. More than he can justify. More than he can pretend are mistakes.
“This makes no sense,” he whispers, but even as he says it, he knows it’s a lie.
They are well-known. Gai never stops talking. Kakashi was the Hokage. Gai survived the Eighth Gate. People gossip. People write.
Of course they write.
He clicks one.
Instant regret.
The summary alone makes his ears heat.
“Konoha’s Most Surprising Power Couple.”
“What— who— power couple? We don’t even—”
He clicks.
Just to see.
For research.
The writing is… strangely good. Annoyingly good.
It’s a domestic scene: Kakashi cooking, Gai hugging him from behind, little affectionate jabs. Kakashi rolling his eyes but softening. Gai smiling that too-bright smile.
Kakashi actually melts a little.
Then he sees it:
Tag: Hatake Kakashi Is Emotionally Constipated
He chokes.
“I am NOT emotionally—!”
He stops, scowls at the wall, then grudgingly mutters:
“…okay, slightly. But still.”
Another tag follows:
Mutual Pining Idiots
He gasps in indignation. “Idiots?? We were extremely efficient about it!”
He reads three paragraphs more, partly insulted, partly… okay, deeply entertained.
Then he finds the explicit warning.
He stares.
“…What.”
His voice is airless.
“…that is not physiologically possible.”
He scrolls.
“…unless Gai— oh no. It is possible. Oh no.”
He closes the fic as if it personally wronged him.
He’s still trying to emotionally recover when the apartment door opens.
“MY BELOVED!” Gai booms from the entryway. “I have returned with the groceries and also a tale of how I defeated a wild raccoon—”
Kakashi stiffens like a genin caught reading porn in class.
Too late.
Gai rounds the couch, smiling broadly, and stops.
“Kakashi?” he says, voice curious and delighted. “Your chakra is turbulent. Like you’ve witnessed something life-changing.”
Kakashi slams the tablet face-down onto his stomach. “It’s nothing.”
“Oh?” Gai leans down, voice thoughtful. “Your ears are red.”
“They are not.”
“They are!” Gai’s grin widens. “Have you discovered a forbidden technique?”
“Worse,” Kakashi mutters.
“Oh?” Gai sits beside him. “Show me.”
“No.”
Gai’s eyes sparkle in a way that means this is about to get much, much worse.
“Kakashi,” he says kindly, “I have seen you at your worst. At your lowest. At your most embarrassing. Whatever you’ve found, my love, I assure you I can handle it.”
Kakashi sighs and rubs his forehead.
“Gai,” he says, voice grave. “There is… a website.”
Gai gasps. “What kind of website?”
“You have no idea.”
Kakashi turns the tablet so Gai can see the red logo, then immediately turns it back against his chest.
“It’s called AO3.”
Gai squints. “A… O… three? That is not a very youthful name.”
“It stands for Archive of Our Own.”
Gai nods solemnly. “That is more youthful.”
“You would think so,” Kakashi mutters.
Gai leans closer. “And what is archived? Missions? Personal reflections?”
Kakashi stares at him for a long moment, then reluctantly shows Gai the screen. Kakashi can feel his ears heating again.
Gai squints, trying to take in everything he’s seeing.
Stories. Descriptions. Pairings. Titles that concern him. Warnings that concern him more.
He straightens. “My youthful heart senses… romance?”
Kakashi clears his throat. “Among other things.”
“What were you looking for on this site?”
Kakashi hesitates.
Then, very quietly:
“The Icha Icha couple.”
Gai blinks. “Ah. The ones you like. The ones you rant about when Jiraiya’s continuity gets sloppy.”
“Exactly.”
Gai looks delighted. “People write stories of them? Without being paid?”
“Yes,” Kakashi says, reverence in his tone. “And some of them are… actually good?”
Gai raises both eyebrows. “Better than the originals?”
“Sometimes.” Kakashi winces. “If Jiraiya were alive, he would probably fight me to the death.”
Gai’s eyes widen. “Has someone written about us?”
Kakashi feels his entire face heat up. “You really don’t want to know.”
“Show me,” Gai says. And the excitement in his eyes tells Kakashi he will not let this go anytime soon.
Kakashi hesitates, defeated.
“…fine.”
He hands Gai the tablet.
Face up.
On the AO3 page.
Relationship: Hatake Kakashi / Maito Gai
Gai gasps so dramatically Kakashi regrets surviving the Fourth War.
“KAKASHI!” he shouts, radiant. “WE ARE A LITERARY TROPE!”
“I’m going to die,” Kakashi says calmly.
Gai scrolls eagerly. “Oh, look! Tags! ‘Hurt/Comfort.’ ‘Canon Divergence.’ ‘Soft Gai, Tsundere Kakashi.’ Kakashi! Why are you always the one with repressed feelings?”
Kakashi throws an arm over his eyes. “Because strangers think they understand me.”
“Well,” Gai says cheerfully, “they are correct.”
Kakashi makes a strangled noise.
Gai keeps reading aloud.
“‘Slow Burn.’ Ah, yes, that is accurate. You did pine for sixteen youthful years.”
“I did not pine.”
“You did.”
Kakashi gestures helplessly. “We’ve been dating for years. And I was Hokage. And you’re YOU. Why would anyone waste their time writing about us?”
Gai pats his knee. “My love. You underestimate your fame. Teenagers in Konoha adore you. You’re mysterious. Cool. Brooding. Good looking. Very punchable, but also strangely lovable.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Also,” Gai adds proudly, “I am incredibly charismatic.”
“That part is true.”
Gai beams and continues scrolling.
“Oh! Here’s an explicit one—”
Kakashi sits bolt upright. “NOPE.”
Gai pauses. “No?”
“Absolutely not.” Kakashi grabs the tablet, clutching it to his chest. “You are not reading anything tagged ‘Alternate Positions.’”
Gai gives him a slow, knowing smile. “Ah. So you have explored the explicit section.”
“I have not,” Kakashi lies instantly.
Gai hums. “But your ears—”
“No ear talk.”
Gai laughs so loudly the windows tremble.
Then, unexpectedly, he softens.
He places a big warm hand on Kakashi’s knee. “Does it bother you?”
Kakashi hesitates.
“…A little,” he admits quietly. “It’s strange. Reading about us. About… feelings people think we have. Things we supposedly said. Things we supposedly do.” A pause. “And some of it is good. Too good. It’s unsettling.”
Gai nods. “Ah. Because you feel seen.”
Kakashi jolts.
Gai smiles gently. “People have always seen us. We’ve lived loudly. Spectacularly. Even when you tried to hide.” He taps the tablet. “These stories… they are affection. From the village. From strangers. From people who admire us.”
Kakashi looks at him, surprised. Moved.
“…and the explicit ones?” Kakashi asks weakly.
Gai grins with unholy light.
“That,” he says proudly, “is admiration of another kind!”
Kakashi buries his face in Gai’s shoulder.
Gai wraps an arm around him, laughing softly. “Oh, my beloved. Do not fear the archive. If they write us with youthful passion, let us be honored!”
“…just don’t read the tags,” Kakashi mumbles.
Gai kisses his hair. “Very well. But only because you asked.”
Kakashi relaxes into him, finally breathing again.
Gai strokes his back. “So. Tell me. Which story upset you the most?”
“…the one where you were secretly a mermaid.”
Gai gasps. “Ah! A true story of youth! Did I have a powerful tail?”
Kakashi groans.
Gai beams, radiant as ever, and says:
“My love… shall we read them together?”
Kakashi sighs.
“…fine. But I’m the one choosing.”