Title: Seducing Hot Guys and Dealing With Nervous Habits.
Pairings: Sasunaru and possible Kibahina.
Warnings: Swearing. Possible Sakura bashing. It depends on how I'm feeling at that point in time.
Also, please forgive my attempts at writing gangster slang. I really have no clue how gangsters speak, so please don't send anyone to kill me.
And, I know my writing is all over the place, I just can't seem to keep one direction of thought long enough…
Disclaimer: I have no ownership over Naruto - the anime, manga or any of its characters or of any clothing stores mentioned in this fic. If I said please, would you agree not to sue me?
"Naruto."
"Naruto."
"NARUTO."
"What? What, I'm up!"
"Dumbass, stop staring." That's me, Naruto Uzumaki - dumbass, obvious stalker and ramen expert. 19 year old college student. I'm studying to become a teacher. Cool, right? No? Damn. The guy doing the insulting is in fact my biffle. My bro. My dawg, Kiba. Fo' shizzle?
Heh heh. Yeah. Just don't pay attention to me when I go into 'gangsta' mode – it's a defence mechanism.
Anyway, that rude guy is Kiba Inuzuka. Another 19 year old college student, but he's studying to be a veterinarian. Dude has this weird connection with dogs. He's like a horse whisperer…but with dogs. A dog whisperer. I'm just waiting for the day we get to solve a murder mystery because he brought forward a dog as a witness.
Okay, completely off topic. We've been best friends since we could walk, seeing as we're neighbours. We have a good thing going, he insults me, gets free food from my house and rides to the mall and I get to pay for his movie tickets and more food.
…Wait.
"Why am I friends with you again?"
"Because I'm one of the few people that can put up with your 'gangsta' moments," he said, crossing his arms like a rapper in a music video, "and my mom makes you ramen whenever you come over to mine," he explained.
Ah yes. The ramen. That totally makes up for everything. Don't give me that look. It does.
So anyway, Kiba and I were at the mall…for some reason I couldn't remember. I'm pretty sure it wasn't so that I could stare at the guy that works at Jay Jay's. That definitely wasn't it… okay, maybe that was a small part of it.
"Aiight son," I said. I told you, it's a defence mechanism. Whenever I'm in a situation that makes me nervous, it just happens. Some people have a fight or flight instinct. My instinct is to become a 'rapper from the hood.' Blergh.
Maybe I should explain the situation without randomly interjecting facts about my life: Kiba and I were at the mall, sitting on the benches outside the Jay Jay's store. Why were we sitting on those specific benches? Because of the guy that I may have a slight crush on. He works at - you guessed it - Jay Jay's. I know absolutely nothing about him, other than the fact that he is so fucking hot that if I wasn't sure global warming existed, I would attribute the melting of the polar ice caps to his amazing good looks. And he was staring at the benches outside his store. The benches that we were sitting on. Oh my.
"Please don't go gangsta on me now. I'm trying to- oh I see what's going on now. He's looking over here isn't he?" Kiba deduced.
"Yo, that's wack bro. I got no clue what you talkin' 'bout, homie," I said, with my own brand of gangsta swag.
"Whatever dude. You're pathetic," he said.
Anger is definitely one of the things that can snap me out of my swag induced stupor, "I'm pathetic? Says you, the guy mooning over a shy girl and finding every conceivable reason to not ask her out."
"Not every possible reason."
"Yesterday you said you wouldn't ask her out because she might be a robot that runs on body lotion from another dimension," I pointed out.
"Hey, even if she isn't one of them, you shouldn't be taking those robots lightly. When they take your body lotion, don't come crying to me if you have dry elbows."
"…I cannot believe that just came out of your mouth." Kiba can really be a bit insane some- all of the time.
"Dude, whatever. Can we go now? My dad wanted me to be back by six. My sister's coming home today and we're having a 'family dinner'."
"Yeah, sure. I don't really feel like sitting here anymore, anyway," I lied.
"I believe you," Kiba said in a sceptical tone.
"I was totally ready to leave; I was just waiting for you to say something!"
"I'm so sure. I know you'll just come back tomorrow and walk past the store a million times to check if he's there," Kiba sighed. He knew me too well. When did I get so predictable? When did I become such a stalker? Shaking my head, I just got up and motioned to Kiba to follow me to the car. Not answering him is probably a better idea than getting into a fight in front of Jay Jay's guy. He's right anyway. I'll be back. Just like 'The Terminator.' Maybe tomorrow I'll actually go into the store.
On the drive home, Kiba and I made plans to come back tomorrow. Not that surprising, really. The shy girl I was talking about, Hinata, has a shift at the pet store tomorrow morning. Translation: Kiba is going to buy more toys for Akamaru to have an excuse to talk to her.
Speaking of Akamaru, that dog is awesome! I'm pretty sure he understands English and he knows how to switch on the toaster. The only problem is that you get dog slobber on your morning toast, but that's a small price to pay for not having to actually switch it on yourself. All I have at home is a lazy old cat named Kyuubi. She's cute and fluffy and all that, but I tried to make her fetch the newspaper once and I swear she glared at me. The only thing she really does is eat, sleep and beg for more food. I'm starting to think she doesn't actually love me…
And now I'm starting to think that I get distracted too easily. I have the attention span of a seven year old. This is probably really bad, seeing as how I want to teach seven year olds in a few years.
"Dude! Don't zone out when you're driving!" Kiba screamed.
After I apologised for driving on two lanes, Kiba decided to make me pull another dangerous stunt, "So if you go in and talk to that Jay Jay's guy tomorrow, I'll ask Hinata out."
I swerved, got a few more swear words and rude gestures aimed at me and almost hit an old lady before turning to face Kiba, "You want me to what?"
"Go talk to him. Heaven knows you've stared at him enough for two lifetimes; the next step is to talk to him. It's only logical."
"Well, Spock, if I talk to him and he laughs in my face – which he will, because I will inevitably go gangsta – I won't even be able to stare at him anymore. Then what will I do? This town has an amazing lack of hot gay guys, you know," I reasoned.
"How do you know Jay Jay's guy is gay?" he stupidly asked.
"One, have you seen him? B, he has the best fashion sense ever and P.S, he has the supposed 'gay ear piercing.' Plus my gaydar goes haywire around him," I explained, driving up our street.
"You don't have the ear piercing," he points out.
"I've never really liked to follow gay stereotypes," I said in a way that practically screamed 'duh,' "Besides, Sakura and Ino asked him out but he said no."
"So he said no, that doesn't prove that he's gay," Kiba says.
"Oh please. No straight guy would say no to Sakura or Ino. Can you honestly tell me that if either of them called you right now for a date, you would say no?"
He just kept quiet.
"Exactly."
"Sure bro. Whatever. See you tomorrow. Get some sleep, we've got big things going on tomorrow," he says as he gets out of the car.
"I never agreed to-" but he was already gone.
I sighed but didn't bother calling him back. He has this problem where he only hears what he wants to hear. I think it's called selective hearing. And it only pops up at times that he wants it to. I'm actually starting to think he's making the whole thing up but he's the one studying to be a doctor, not me. An animal doctor, yes, but animals have hearing problems too.
Okay, so maybe I'm stalling. If I step inside my house, I'm going to do something really girly like picking out clothes for tomorrow. But if I don't go in, I'll have to sleep in the car. Again. It's not very comfortable. Sighing again (if sighing was an Olympic sport, I would be a gold medallist. Cool, bling for the other half of my split personality), I parked my car and went inside. Going through the rest of the motions, I greeted my parents and went straight to my bedroom. I won't acknowledge that I decided to pick out clothes; I was just getting rid of the clothes I don't wear anymore. And if I found something cool to wear tomorrow, it was completely coincidental.
Oh man, I am so gay.