Naruto One-Shots *Closed to Requests*

Fallen For You [Iruka] for Lonely Wolf

"Rough week?"

"You have no idea," Iruka groaned. He winced when Fahara's hands hit a knot.

"Oh, I can tell," she answered. Rubbing more oil over her hands they kneaded the skin roughly to smooth it out. "Konohamaru?"

"How could you tell?"

Fahara laughed. "Naruto and him are very similar. So are these stress knots."

He chuckled under his breath. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful. The store had a few customers."

"None of the elite bothered you today?"

"Thank goodness, no. Otherwise I'd be making you give me a massage."

Iruka leaned back against Fahara's chest, bare skin pressed against her lounge shirt. His head rested against a shoulder, causing him to look up. The young woman grinned and kissed him softly, before doing the same to the scar on his nose. Humming in content, the young man's eyes closed, rubbing one of her arms that had draped over a shoulder when their positions shifted. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Hmm."

"Want me to whip something up? I'll make your favorite."

He grinned. "You spoil me."

"Sometimes," she muttered against his lips. Iruka sat up a little straighter to kiss his girlfriend again. "Besides, I think you can find a way to thank me later."

Both gave each other a knowing grin, Fahara pulling away and leaving the bedroom. Chuckling to himself the Chuunin sat up feeling his bones pop and release more tension. Sometimes coming home from work stressed was worth it. Fahara was amazing with her hands... The teacher rubbed his face, the thought sounding a lot dirtier than intended. Hell, he even blushed a bit. Glancing over at a picture on the dresser of the two of them during one of his days off a few months ago on a hiking trip there was only one thing that came to mind. He had fallen hard and couldn't be happier. His eyes glanced over towards the nightstand thinking about the little black box that sat snuggly in the back out of view.

"Hey, Iruka!"

"Yeah, Fahara?"

"Can you help me reach this pot?"

Chuckling under his breath, the young man stood, tapping the top of the wooden dresser as he passed. The teacher couldn't wait for Saturday.