Tenzo thumbed the edge of the page as his pencil re-drew the outline of a casement window for the third time. Still too large. The thought niggled at the edge of his mind before he dismissed it. Form didn’t always have to follow function. Not in this room, of all the rooms in the home he was sketching. Indulgences were permitted here.
He was perched on the branch of a great cedar that he had manifested several months earlier outside of the Academy’s training yard, strategically positioned to offer the best view of a certain teacher’s classroom window. It wouldn’t be necessary after today, but Tenzo thought he might leave it anyway. No one seemed to be bothered by the mysterious new tree that hadn’t yet suffered the havoc of stray shuriken thrown by overzealous pre-genin. It wouldn’t take much longer for it to resemble its brethren.
His gaze flicked to the window, into the classroom where Iruka chatted with a mother and her two auburn-haired girls. They were tearfully embracing Iruka-sensei around his large middle before the mother gently ushered them away. Tenzo snapped his notebook shut and grit his teeth, an automatic protective reaction borne from whatever vestiges of alpha nature still existed in him. A reaction easily tamped down by the knowledge that it was the last family of the evening. They were simply saying goodbye to Konoha’s most beloved sensei.
After allowing Iruka a few more minutes to erase the day’s lesson from the blackboard, Tenzo body-flickered into the room. A cardboard box on the instructor’s desk held the last of Iruka’s belongings, and Tenzo plucked it up.
Iruka shot him a withering glare. “I can carry it, Yamato-san.”
But Tenzo, bound by his orders as usual, gave a resigned shrug and pointed to the dusting of chalk on the teacher’s belly instead. “You missed a spot again, sensei,” he said with a twitch of a smirk.
The familiar exchange provoked Iruka’s smile. He scratched the scar on his nose with a soft laugh. “Well, at least I won’t be having this problem when I’m working a desk job.”
It hung between them, then. The knowledge that this was Iruka’s last day as an instructor. That it would be the last time he would stand in front of this blackboard and be directly responsible for the shaping of young shinobi lives. After his leave, Iruka would be moving into a new position as the Academy’s assistant principal – a move that was both a natural progression of his career trajectory as well as a necessity due to… well—
The evening sunset filtered through the trees to cast the classroom shadows in a dusky orange hue. With the students dismissed for the summer, only a handful of teachers and administrators lagged behind, tying up the loose ends of grading or lingering lesson plans before the Academy went dormant. Tenzo’s back was tense with awareness that stragglers could pop in with well wishes for Iruka at any time, but even so, he allowed himself to brush the chalk from Iruka’s belly with his free hand. Iruka covered it with his own, pressing Tenzo’s fingers into the curve as they both stared down at it.
“Shall we go to the store on the way home for dinner?” Iruka asked. “Or is the Hokage working late again?”
“It’s your last day,” Tenzo said. “Store tomorrow. Celebrate tonight.”
“Ah, yes,” Iruka snorted. “I’m so excited to watch you and Kakashi toast to my last day of having to receive unsolicited parenting advice.”
Tenzo’s lips curved into a full grin as he patted Iruka’s belly. “I don’t think that ever ends, sensei. But senpai promised to bring you those pork buns you love.”
Iruka’s shoulders sagged in exaggerated defeat. “Oh, all right.”
The best lies are the ones rooted in truth, or so they say.
This lie, that Tenzo was merely a bodyguard for the Hogake’s mate, was once the truth – to the rest of the village, at least. He should have known that the assignment had always been Kakashi’s way of keeping the two people he cared for the most close to him. Protecting them in the best way he knew how, even if they were quite capable of protecting themselves.
After the Fourth Great War, Tenzo had been promoted to ANBU commander, but he hadn’t kept the post long after Kakashi took up the mantle of Rokudaime. Stepping into the spotlight of leadership compelled Kakashi to disclose that the burgeoning relationship between himself and Iruka had culminated in a bonding after the war. He had immediately initiated a transfer in Tenzo’s assignment after that.
Initiated, but never commanded. Kakashi hadn’t wanted it to be an order, and Tenzo, ever the earnest kohai, had never been able to deny him a sincere request. Even one as asinine as guarding a competent shinobi like Iruka.
A furious Iruka had led Tenzo on many a chase around the village in those first few weeks. Any given day on assignment as the omega’s bodyguard meant defacement of his undergarments, or finding his supply of exploding tags replaced with capsaicin powder, or being used as a human dart board for his students’ kunai lessons. He had once ended up fishing a shadow clone of Iruka out of the bottom of the Konoha River.
It was how they had shared their first kiss, wet and gasping on the bank, before clone-Iruka had gone up in a puff of smoke.
Tenzo had requested a suspension of the assignment after that. His integrity, his pride, and his feelings for both Kakashi and Iruka would not allow him to further interfere with their bond. That suspension had lasted all of eight weeks, until the Rokudaime had been called to attend a Kage Summit in Suna—a trip that could possibly prevent him from returning in time for Iruka’s heat.
“It can’t be helped.” But even beneath the mask, Tenzo could see the jovial twist of those lips. “I hope you’ll take care of him.”
And maybe Kakashi had known that because of Tenzo’s— because of his—childhood—he was hardly much of an alpha anymore. No ruts. Barely affected by scent or hormones. Sterile in every sense of the word. Maybe Kakashi hadn’t seen him as a threat from a fellow alpha.
But oh—it had been hell sitting outside the bedroom door in the Hogake’s residence, listening to the omega scream for Tenzo in frustrated need. It had been worse to feel Kakashi’s fist in his gut when the Rokudaime returned two days into Iruka’s heat and had found Tenzo on the couch in the living room, erection buried in his fist instead of inside Iruka.
“Idiot,” Kakashi had said. “I told you to take care of him. He’s asking for you, too. Do I have to spell it out for you?”
Tenzo got the message then, when he had been pulled into the Hokage’s bedroom with his cock still hanging out of his fly.
No matter how much he refused to admit it, Iruka’s walks home from the Academy had become waddles. Tenzo used to accompany him at no less than three-metres distance, but these days he didn’t see harm in walking at the teacher’s side. It was common knowledge in the village that Iruka was carrying the Hogake’s heir, the heir to one of Konoha’s oldest families. No one would’ve blinked an eye at seeing him supported by his security detail this late in his pregnancy.
Unsurprisingly, Kakashi was the one who cared the least about secrecy, despite it being his reputation on the line. The village was not so far removed from destruction and strife, and an administration desperately seeking stability really didn’t need to deal with rumours about what the Hokage’s bondmate got up to in his spare time.
Even a year into Kakashi’s tenure, Iruka and Tenzo still had to remind him that the Hokage’s reputation affected the whole village. The shinobi world had progressed in myriad ways since the end of the Fourth War, but even Konoha wasn’t ready for a polyamorous Hokage. And so they tried to retain a respectable distance from each other in public.
They were lucky the ANBU were sworn to secrecy, with as much as Kakashi loved to joke about scandalizing the council, imagining them discovering – ten years down the line – that the Rokudaime’s child had an affinity for mokuton instead of raiton.
As unlikely as that scenario would be.
Tenzo hefted the box on one hip as he let Iruka into the Hokage’s residence. He had lost his shyness about encroaching this space the moment Kakashi had led him into the bedroom during Iruka’s heat eight months ago. But the residence itself was not as grandiose as he had first expected, hidden within the secrecy of Hokage Tower. A living space with a kotatsu and a small balcony, an open kitchen, a guest room, and the master suite. Really, the nicest part of the residence was the bathroom, with a soaking tub and a shower big enough to fuck and be fucked in – Tenzo had done both with Kakashi on several occasions while Iruka had observed in exhaustion from the bath.
A box with a crib lay unopened in the guest room. It lacked Tenzo’s craftsmanship and thus would never be assembled, much less placed in a room that was barely big enough to hold the rocker Tenzo wanted to carve, too. The home itself was not enough to house the family Iruka wanted.
With the old Hatake residence demolished, the home their growing family needed was still stored in the pages of Tenzo’s sketchbook.
He set the box on the floor in the genkan, and Iruka unceremoniously kicked it across the floor when the door shut behind them. In the space of a breath, he had pinned Tenzo to the door and devoured his mouth in a kiss. The whisper of “okagesama de” felt as heavy against his lips as the rounded belly felt pressed to Tenzo’s abdomen.
Another familiar exchange. A callback to those first weeks of Tenzo’s assignment, when Iruka would sarcastically mutter “okagesama de” whenever Tenzo inquired about his wellbeing.
“My my, dear,” Kakashi murmured from the living room. “Don’t eat the kohai.” He was seated at the kotatsu in his blue fatigue pants and a simple undershirt, his mask still pulled up over his nose. A kettle of tea sat on the warmer next to a bottle of sake, and he shook a plastic takeout bag in their direction. “Food first.”
They parted, and Iruka turned to regard the bag with a careful eye. “I was promised pork buns. And there had better be matcha ice cream, too. Tenzo, help me with my shoes, please.”
Kakashi lifted an arm and beckoned for the chuunin to snuggle him as the three settled at the kotatsu and distributed the plastic take out boxes. The mask came down to peck Iruka on the lips. “Good to know your priorities,” he teased.
The room was warm and full of the smell of sencha and noodles and steamed buns. Iruka, pink-cheeked and brazen, poured himself a cup of tea and quirked an eyebrow without missing a beat. “Excuse me? Who’s the one gestating another human being here?”
“Maa, we’ll give you all the buns in the world as long as you keep cooking ours.”
Tenzo hid his laugh behind his hand as Iruka made an exaggerated retching sound. “Please stop talking and drink your sake, senpai.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Iruka groaned as he lay back in the bed, covering his face with a pillow. “I’m sleeping with two men, and I still can’t get either of them to fuck me into next week.”
Tenzo, settled between Iruka’s thighs, had a hand around the chuunin’s ankle, pressing one leg back as far as it could go. His other hand splayed over the bare belly between them, warm and hard, the honey-coloured skin stretching around a brilliant secret. “You don’t bend the way you used to, Iruka-kun.”
Iruka pushed the pillow aside and glared. Fucking him on his back was getting to be more of a chore as time progressed and the pressure on his diaphragm increased. “I don’t care.” He tossed the pillow at Tenzo. “Put it under my ass and put your dick in me now before I do it myself.” He tilted his hips to rub said ass against the head of Tenzo’s erection.
“So needy, sensei.” Kakashi was leering from the edge of the bed with far too much glee for someone whose balls were readily within grasp of a hotheaded bed partner. “No wonder we had to bring another cock into the bedroom to satisfy you.”
Iruka’s indignant squawk filled Tenzo with mirth and an unbridled sort of warmth. It left him feeling exposed and unguarded in a way no shinobi should ever have accepted. But the worst (best) part of it was that he didn’t care.
Being with Kakashi had always been frustrating in its own right. Every encounter, while physically exhilarating and uncomplicated, threatened to upend the delicate balance of respect and personal attachment he had for his senpai. And Iruka, full of laughter and surprises both in and out of bed, had always felt like a taboo indulgence – a fleeting glimpse of the comfort and delight other people were meant to enjoy. Not somebody—a nobody—like him.
And yet here sat Tenzo, not only allowed within the confines of the Hogake’s bedroom, but a welcome participant in the act of pleasure. An active contributor in Kakashi’s teasing and in Iruka’s passion. He was the third part of a dynamic that might have forever lain dormant without his presence.
The mattress creaked, and Tenzo started when he felt Iruka’s hands around his shoulders, pushing him backwards until his back hit the bed with his head near the foot. Iruka hovered over him then, deep brown hair framing his face while the ends fluttered with Tenzo’s surprised exhale. “Less thinking, more fucking, taicho—oooh.” He was already wet and warm with slick when he lowered himself onto Tenzo’s cock, and he seated himself to the hilt so quickly that his whole body shook. “Ohhh, fuck.” His hand slid down to cup the underside of his belly. “Fuck, I’m so full.”
Tenzo gasped. Iruka’s other hand pressed into Tenzo’s hip to keep him against the bed, and he rose up on his knees until the head of Tenzo’s cock was dangerously close to slipping free of his slick hole. When Iruka slammed down again, the force of his shifting center of gravity threatened to tip him off balance until Kakashi put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“Impressively flexible for someone growing a watermelon in his tummy,” he said with a hum.
“Shut. Up,” Iruka groused, and then he wrapped an arm around the back of silver-haired man’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.
Kakashi let himself be guided until he had crawled fully onto the bed, arms embracing Iruka as he melted into the kiss. His erection, full and red, left wet streaks of precome along the curve of the chuunin’s middle. “Tenzo and I should’ve knocked you up ages ago. You have no idea how good you look, sitting on his cock with our baby in your belly. I can’t wait to watch him put another one inside you.”
“Kakashi-senpai,” Tenzo moaned. Apparently all the blood hadn’t gone to his groin, because there was still enough to set his cheeks aflame.
Pale fingers danced across Iruka’s middle until they grasped the neglected cock beneath and tugged. Iruka’s whimper caught in the back of his throat. “We’re going to have a whole house full of them, aren’t we?” Kakashi sighed. “Little shinobi, growing trees and cutting them down with lightning.”
Tenzo had told them repeatedly that whatever Orochimaru had done to his DNA had likely prevented him from fathering children. That was part of what made their whole arrangement so favourable: Tenzo couldn’t fuck up the Hatake bloodline with his mutant genetics. Even still, Iruka treated it all like an exciting mystery, refusing anything more than simple check ups at the hospital to ensure the baby’s health. He didn’t want to know the sex or even the state of the baby’s chakra. Procreation was always going to be a two-person project, but Iruka worked hard to make it seem like a three-person affair, always encouraging Tenzo to touch, to feel, to say “our baby” whenever he could.
And Kakashi— Kakashi was fine with it. He liked it. He encouraged it.
Iruka had gone still, distracted by Kakashi’s mouth and the hand on his cock, suspended with trembling thighs while Tenzo’s cock throbbed impatiently inside him. Tenzo wiggled his hips, trying to provoke Iruka to move again, then pushed himself up on his elbows in search of a way to stem the filth from Kakashi’s lips. In this position, the pregnancy didn’t afford them much room to stuff that mouth with Iruka’s cock.
But Tenzo was nothing if not resourceful. He formed the signs for a suiton, breathed a water jutsu into his hands until his fingers came away wet. He pressed two of them between the cheeks of Kakashi’s ass, circling the hole until it was slick enough to allow Tenzo inside.
“Is this OK, senpai?”
Kakashi shuddered. “You know it is.”
“Make him come, Tenzo,” Iruka urged and grit his teeth as he again seated himself to the hilt.
Another kiss between the bonded pair swallowed up any further sounds in the bedroom other than the steady slap of flesh. Tenzo curled his fingers inside Kakashi, searching out the prostate to tease with the same merciless effort Iruka exerted every time he ground his prostate against Tenzo’s erection inside him.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—” Iruka gasped. It was all the warning he gave before he hefted his belly and slammed down one last time. Come spilled in pulses over the hand around him and onto his stomach. Spent, he tipped sideways into Kakashi’s embrace while his fingers trailed through the mess on his belly. The force of the orgasm rippled through his body like static, down to thighs and his ass as it clenched around Tenzo, trying to rip his own orgasm out of him from the inside.
Kakashi’s cock bobbed between them with only the occasional friction of the head against Iruka’s stomach that left strands of precome with each thrust. More dribbled out each time Tenzo brushed the tender spot inside of him. Face buried into the nape of Kakashi’s neck, a breathless Iruka grasped the cock and whispered, “Come on me. Show me your knot.”
“Iruka,” Kakashi moaned. “Fuck, Iruka. Your mouth.”
“In my mouth next time,” Iruka said, right before Tenzo pressed in deep, and Kakashi came across the tan skin of his mate’s belly. The base of his cock began to expand in Iruka’s grip.
And Tenzo felt the knot of his own cock begin to pop as orgasm rushed to claim him, curling his toes as his eyes rolled shut.
He woke from his doze to the sight of the full moon peeking out above the tree line through the bedroom window. Milk Moon.
Iruka was lying between both alphas now, snuggled beneath two layers of blankets even though it was the end of May and he had just been fucked into June at his own behest. “Don’t judge me,” he snapped, an arm wrapped around his middle. “The baby takes all the heat.”
“Lovemaking does expend one’s energy,” Kakashi said with a sigh. The silver-haired man had spooned behind Iruka, on top of the blankets instead of under, and was tracing lackadaisical patterns on the heavy belly with a finger while he buried his nose in Iruka’s sex-damp hair. Most likely engaging in some hormonal smelling nonsense that Tenzo, who lacked any concept of normal alpha behavior, didn’t bother to question.
“I’ll show you lovemaking.” He tried to slap Kakashi’s hand away to no avail. “Stop doing that. The kicking is going to keep me up all night.”
The post-coital baby squirming had become a new development since the end of Iruka’s second trimester, when they’d started feeling the movements in earnest. Orgasm sometimes made the baby more active, which was a weird thought Tenzo didn’t want to explore too deeply. Kakashi had also learned that stimulating the womb with little pulses of chakra would provoke a hand or a foot to respond. On some occasions, it would cause Iruka’s whole belly to shift as the baby did a somersault.
He had, of course, taught this trick to Tenzo as well.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Iruka said when he noticed Tenzo shifting. “How are you feeling? We were worried we’d broken you.”
“You were worried,” Kakashi pointed out. “I think he quite enjoyed it. You should retire into administration more often, dear.”
With a soft smile, Tenzo rolled onto his side to face them and joined Kakashi’s hand with his own on the curve of belly. “Okagesama de,” he murmured.
Iruka’s grin was wide, at least until Tenzo took part in the chakra pulse game and the baby gave the omega’s bladder a hardy kick. The grace with which someone so pregnant sprang for the toilet then was a sight to behold. And Tenzo did behold it, with special attentiveness paid to the tan backside.
“I hate you both,” Iruka yelled from the bathroom. “I should’ve known you’d corrupt our child in utero.“
“Happy last day of school, Iruka-sensei,” Tenzo called after him.
“Children, both of you. I can’t escape them, even in my own home.”
“You love it,” Kakashi said. “We let you boss us around and everything.”
“Good, then maybe you’ll listen when I make you get up to do the 3 AM feedings.”
“Oh. Um. I thought you were going to... you know...” Tenzo was suddenly and intensely interested in a loose thread on one of the blankets.
“What?” Iruka poked out from around the bathroom door and gestured to his chest. His milk hadn’t come in yet, but the telltale of swelling in his pectorals had begun early in the pregnancy. “Lactate?”
“Breastfeed,” Kakashi supplied helpfully.
Heat filled Tenzo’s cheeks. He couldn’t bear the weight of either of their gazes, silently fond in their own teasing ways about his intense interest in all the ways Iruka’s body was changing to prepare for their child.
“What am I, a 24-hour convenience store?” The chuunin was standing in the doorway now, framed by the dim bathroom light and truly having no right to look so stunning while he was stark naked and assuming the displeased teacher position. “Bottles exist. There are three of us. Take shifts.”
Tenzo would never admit how long he paused at first to consider how Iruka would get the milk into—
Oh. Formula, then, he thought. Easy enough to buy from the market. He could probably plant a soybean garden somewhere near the tower, but it would be easier if they had their own plot of land. Their own home. He couldn’t imagine trying to explain to the ANBU, or to any passers by, why he had a sudden interest in making soy milk in the middle of the Konoha capitol district.
He hadn’t even really imagined, until this moment, what it would be like to cradle a small human being in one arm and be accountable for its every need. Is this what it meant to be a parent? Having life-altering epiphanies about responsibility and inadequacy while in bed with no pants on?
“Bottles.” Kakashi hummed in thought. “I’m sure the Hokage could afford a wet nurse for his mate.”
“And tell them what, exactly?” Iruka asked sharply. “That the Hokage and his mate and his other mate want extra sleep?”
Ah, there it was. The crux of the issue that never failed to drive a spike of guilt through Tenzo’s heart. Kakashi had, from the moment they’d first invited Tenzo into the bedroom, made it clear their relationship would eventually become public, and the inevitability of discovery only increased when Iruka had handed them the positive pregnancy test. It was a matter of when, not if. Of course, Kakashi had always preferred tackling a challenge directly.
“If a whole village of war-haggard shinobi can’t understand why three orphans think it might be a good idea to raise a family with more love and more parents than they’ve ever known, they can kindly fuck off,” Kakashi had said. “I can hammer that Hokage decree to my office door, if you’d prefer.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Iruka hung his head in embarrassment at his outburst and slouched against the doorframe with a frustrated hand over his face. “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”
“Iruka-kun, you’re not.” Tenzo was not a fool who had entered into their relationship with anything less than full discretion about the level of commitment it would require from all parties. He also had not entered into their relationship with the intent to see Iruka having an existential crisis about it while naked and pregnant in the bathroom. He motioned for the omega to return to their little makeshift nest.
Kakashi tugged on Tenzo’s hand and tipped him in for a kiss, slow and messy and laden with every unspoken conversation and fleeting touch they had learned to share in a time once before, during the war, when words had not been permitted due to circumstance or emotional ineptitude. Pale fingers trailed along his cheek when they parted, and he ran a thumb over his kohai’s bottom lip. “You know you will never be a complication to us, Tenzo,” he said.
Iruka crawled back into the bed with a shy, conciliatory smile. “We’re a team, right? We face challenges as a team.”
Kakashi agreed with a solemn nod. “We’re a team that’s going to buy baby bottles in the morning. Very dangerous stuff. S-class mission-worthy.”
Maybe one day soon, Tenzo thought, he would get to build that house.
“I’ve got a better mission, actually.” Iruka patted his belly. “The first one to bring me the matcha ice cream gets to lick it off me.”