A/N: Kiriban prize for Dictionarykiller, who caught my 15k kiriban over on Deviantart. Hope she likes it. C:
*Not affiliated with the teams or coaches mentioned.
Life
He stared at the bag.
It was an ordinary duffel bag. Black, heavy-duty, Nike. No doubt leftover from when he used to go to the gym regularly. It had been found when he'd been cleaning out the downstairs closet last spring. He used to throw his trainers, towel, and sports drink in there. Now it had several changes of clothes, and his passport.
He could see it, where the closet door stood ajar across from his bed. The corner of the bag was just visible beneath the hem of his trench coat. The light was on in the closet, since some people claimed that their eyesight wasn't what it used to be and that they needed it to see by when they got up to piss in the middle of the night. Nevermind that he himself couldn't sleep with the light on.
It was cold out. Probably low thirties this early in the morning. Flicking his black eyes up to the bedside clock, he saw that it was barely five am. He was fine in his T-shirt and sweats, his thick socks. Just as well, since the man behind him had taken all the covers and was even now wrapped up in them. Selfish asshole.
November. Fall. A time of year that used to excite him. The chill wind used to whisper promises to him, get his blood moving. Now it just made his arthritis and rheumatism act up. Sometimes his joints ached so bad that he could hardly walk. Still, he didn't expect to greet too many more mornings on his land. He wanted to see the sun rise over it one last time.
He hugged the bed a few more minutes, truthfully too comfortable to get up. Lately getting up seemed harder and harder to do, while going to sleep got easier with each passing year. Some days he didn't want to get out of bed at all. He considered staying right where he was; after all, he'd lived thirty years in this house and had seen all it had to offer more times than he could count. But then the man behind him broke wind, as he usually did before he woke, and suddenly he couldn't take lying next to him another minute. He got up and got dressed.
There was no prettier place to be in the fall than the state of Georgia. The wind would freshen, blowing away the last of summer's stifling heat, and everywhere there seemed to be the smell of burning leaves and crisp apples. All the trees changed colors. To Sasuke it seemed like the monotony of green died away and the trees came alive in a riot of reds, oranges, and yellows. Then winter would come, the leaves would be gone, and nothing would be left but lifeless claws scratching at the sky. But winter wasn't here yet. They were still in the middle of glorious fall, and for those few weeks he felt alive with the trees.
He had ten acres of choice farmland just a few miles north of Athens. There were two horses, a couple of goats on the back lot, a nice big barn. The horses, both mares, were currently off on a stud farm. Grass was getting long again, he saw. East side of the property was near as high as he was. He'd need to call in Shikamaru with his bush-hog.
He crunched slowly over the shorter grass of his land, the blades somewhat stiff with the November drop in temperature. His old work boots picked up dew, and darkened from their faded yellow to some nondescript color. Foggy mist lay in pockets here and there along the grass, and at the base of trees. He turned and looked at the three-story house he shared with his partner and saw that the red brick was also muted with mist.
His rheumatism was acting up, but he ignored it. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and made his way over to the gazebo they'd had built ten years ago. Brown wood, unpainted. It was in need of minor repairs, but it was still a comfortable place to put one's feet up. Sakura's granddaughter had sewn some pretty red cushions for the benches and brought them over during the summer. He sat on one now and used the toe of one boot to get the swing going, leaning back in contentment when the motion picked up. He watched the sunlight strengthen and slowly burn the fog and mist away.
Was it possible to love and hate a season with equal intensity? he mused. Yes, he supposed it was. It was possible to love and hate a lot of things, Sasuke decided with a glance toward the house. One just had to decide if the emotions were really equal, or if one wasn't maybe stronger than the other.
Without that decision, one got stuck in limbo. As he'd been stuck for the past 25 years.
He fished a cigarette from his shirt pocket and brought out a lighter. The motion of the swinging bench made the flame waver a bit, but his cig was lit and smoking in short order. The lighter was shoved back home as he dragged deeply. Mild knots of tension that he lived with drifted away with the fog as his lungs filled with smoke. Out here was the only place he could indulge, seeing as he wasn't strictly supposed to be smoking at all. A fact his partner was tyrannical about enforcing. Almost humming in pleasure, Sasuke lifted one leg and rested it along the seat of the bench, turning sideways. He held the smoke in his lungs a second longer, then leaned his head back and blew out slowly.
A smoke was the only way to greet the day, in his opinion. It was like sucking in happiness. The harder he dragged, the calmer he felt, until, as he was lighting his second smoke from the end of the first, he felt completely at ease. The enjoyment he used to feel on cold mornings reasserted itself.
He really did love fall. He loved the nippy weather, the festive air people got as they prepared for the major holidays. And he loved the pumpkin pies Hinata brought over, whom no one had ever been able to top, not in forty years of her making them. He loved hunting in the woods with Shikamaru and Shino, loved to go camping in the same woods alone sometimes. Didn't matter what he was doing, really, so long as he was answering that siren call that seemed to pull at him in the cooler months. He felt like anything was possible during that time.
Yes, fall was full of promise. Promises that life had defaulted on a long time ago. When he thought of how his life could have turned out, and where it was now, it made him want to see everyone and everything around him burn. Until everyone felt the same hurt and bitter regret that he did.
He tried to hang onto his good mood.
These feelings always came with the change in weather. Winter would settle in soon enough, burying the feelings for another year, and he would continue as he had been doing for most of his life.
Sasuke pulled on his cigarette and contemplated leaving his partner.
He thought about it with increasing frequency these days. Hell, he'd been thinking about it for fifteen years. He felt like most of the dissatisfaction he had with life stemmed from that gruff blond he lived with. His sixth decade was three years away; he'd just as soon not be treading the same rut he'd been in when that day arrived.
The screen door at the back of the house slammed faintly and Sasuke looked in that direction. He could just make out the orange and black checked shirt with the axe slung over one shoulder as Naruto headed for the woodshed. The man never could stand a little wind. Had to keep the house blazing hot. Summer personality. Sasuke shook his head and stubbed out the butt of his cig beneath his heel.
He supposed he still cared about Naruto. He'd certainly never cared about anyone else. And if he was honest with himself, his discontent wasn't solely with Naruto, but with life in general. He'd thought that he'd make something of his life, be somebody, do something meaningful and worthwhile. Instead, year after year was the same. The only thing that changed was is age, and the fact that he and Naruto seemed to rub each wrong more and more often.
Growing old was a terrifying thing. It was sad, and lonely, and just plain terrifying. Each year you got a little slower, a little thicker, a little more crooked in the back and shoulders. Your hair thinned, your teeth yellowed, and your pecker took twice as long to stand, and wilted twice as fast. You could step along, telling yourself you still felt 40, but Sasuke could see his age mirrored in his friends; those gray-haired, hunch-shouldered grandfathers were the same boys he used to run barefoot with in the creek. Sometimes he'd walk by a store window, or the glass front of a building down in Atlanta, catch a glimpse of himself and think, Who is that? The next second he'd remember that the salt and pepper hair was his, as was the limp.
Damn. There went his good mood. Never lasted long these days.
When it was quarter to nine, he stubbed out what was left of his smoke, fished a few breath mints from a back pocket to hide his guilt, and began making his way back to the house.
Saturdays were college game days. He and Naruto could be found parked in their matching recliners in front of their 50" plasma every Saturday come nine o'clock. He'd have his beer at his side, and Naruto would have two or three fully loaded hoagies ready to go, even at that early hour. The man had to have meat first thing in the morning or Sasuke could expect to be treated to his complaints for the rest of the day. The complaints were often laced with comments on the way Sasuke drank so early in the morning. As he trudged up the small hill leading to the kitchen door, Sasuke resolved to get through his last day with Naruto without arguing.
Place was sweltering when he entered. He cast a look at Naruto, who didn't see since he was stumping around in the pantry. "Bit warm in here," he couldn't resist saying. The wood was likely burning in the living room fireplace, but for the kitchen to be this warm, the thermostat had to be turned way up. "Didn't we pay $1200 for utilities alone last month?"
"Fifty degrees outside, it's freezing." Naruto's voice was muffled. He bent lower in the pantry, hissing when his back popped. "Where the devil's that new garlic mayo I bought?"
Eyeing the assorted lunchmeats and sandwich fixings spread all over the kitchen counter and table, Sasuke held in his retort. Pig. The mess would sit out until Sasuke cleaned it up, he knew. He went over and took the mayo from the third shelf in the pantry. "Right here in your face. Don't know why you need three different kinds of mayo anyway. Where are your glasses?"
"Don't bitch at me," Naruto griped. He snatched the bottle. "Go put the tube on."
"Christ, it's nine now. Why didn't you put it on?" He liked the TV to be on ten minutes before any program started.
"I'm out here." Naruto squirted mayo generously into his bread halves, splattering the counter. "Got your six pack chillin' in the icebox, by the way. You're welcome."
Slightly mollified, Sasuke grabbed the brew without further comment.
-oOo-
By the time they were sitting with their snacks, they'd missed five minutes. Sasuke silently fumed over that too.
As usual, Naruto had shit to say that Sasuke could have done without hearing. "Look at those Bulldogs," he muttered around a mouthful. "Stupid as ever. And Richt, that incompetent-"
"Dammit, don't start. You ask me, Johnson should've stayed down at Georgia Southern. Tech nerds would have been better off."
Naruto snorted. "Please. You can't tell me Georgia is better."
"They've had the most wins, haven't they?"
"Don't make 'em better'n the Yellow Jackets." He chewed violently a moment. "And Johnson is the best coach they ever had."
Sasuke rolled his eyes. He reminded himself that he wanted to get through the day with a minimum of conflict. "Whatever." He hated letting Naruto get the last word.
"What? I'm right and you know it. Everyone knows it."
"I said whatever."
"Which means you agree I'm right."
"Never said that."
"Didn't have to. You implied it."
"You looking for an argument? Can't you just let the matter rest?"
"I'm just saying, Yellow Jackets trump Bulldogs. I'm right and that's a fact."
Finally fed up, Sasuke waded in by slamming his beer can on the arm of his chair. "Georgia Tech will never be better than University of Georgia. For starters…"
They went back and forth over it, periodically stopping to take in segments on the screen. Naruto got up a few times to get a whole pie from the fridge, and then later when that was done, the rest of the tuna casserole. He ate it cold, right out of the Pyrex dish, and snagged one of Sasuke's beers to wash it down with.
Sasuke stared at him in open disgust and no small amount of jealousy that Naruto's stomach was still predominantly flat, if not quite as hard as it used to be. Looking at him stuff his face, an uncommon twist of desire kicked through him, pushing the disgust aside. Between his bad hips and Naruto's back, they rarely did the deed anymore. Matter of fact, he couldn't remember the last time they'd done it. But sitting there, watching Naruto's monstrous appetite, he was reminded of how the man used to carb up that way right before he fucked. 'Need to prep like I used to do before a game,' he'd joke. It wasn't much of a joke either, considering the stamina he used to show in bed. Those days were long gone. Sasuke was now in a dedicated relationship with his right hand, and the arrangement suited them both.
Game day lasted three hours. When it was over, Naruto said he needed a nap thanks to all that food. He gave Sasuke a half smile and a wink before disappearing upstairs. After eating, Naruto would always nap off the worst of it before nailing Sasuke to the nearest hard surface. At least, that had been the way before. Sasuke knew the wink meant Naruto expected to find him in bed when he woke up.
He remained sitting in his recliner, finishing the last of his six-pack and brooding. He might not remember the precise date of their last fuck, but it had to have been six months at least. And the time before that had been equally long. They did it a few times a year these days, if that. And each time was a quick, half-hearted romp in bed before they were both snoring again.
He was tempted to take a nap himself, right there in his recliner, but he got up and went to the kitchen, where Naruto's mess sat waiting for him.
Once, out of spite and curiosity, he'd refused to clean up for a couple of weeks. Food had become crusted on every surface of the kitchen. The stove had turned black, and the fridge had various spilled condiments and other liquids in it. They'd gotten flies, followed by maggots and roaches. Shino, exterminator for the county, had sent his son over to treat their house and Sasuke had raged at Naruto so badly that he'd had chest pains. His blood pressure had been sky high afterward, but he'd cleaned the mess up. Naruto had been content to leave the kitchen as it had been and said he didn't see what the big deal was. Sasuke had nearly brained him.
The familiar actions of re-wrapping the lunchmeat, and screwing the tops on jars of relish and pickle slices gave him more time to think, but his mind was pretty much made up. Spritzing Fantastik on the counters and wiping them down with paper towels, Sasuke reminded himself that there was nothing to hold him here. His brother had died a few years ago, his investments were adequately monitored, and his lover was an insensitive prick. They never shared anything anymore, but were merely two men living in the same house and sleeping in the same bed.
He noticed that there was nothing for dinner that evening when he opened the fridge. He cut and washed meat and veggies and tossed them into the crockpot. Naruto could turn it off when he woke up. Knowing him, he'd eat more junk when evening came if there was no food cooked. Never could take care of himself.
Upstairs, he lingered in the bedroom doorway for a long, long time. Naruto was sprawled on his half of the bed, one hand down the front of his pants, snoring furiously. Sasuke shook his head. How the man slept on a full stomach, he'd never know.
Moving quietly, he went to the closet and retrieved his bag. He was rolling up the garage door a few minutes later, and stowing it in the backseat of his pickup. It was when he was walking around the truck, making a quick check of his tires, that he stumbled over one of the loose bricks Naruto collected. Naruto built things from the bricks, usually weird lawn art that sold surprisingly well. One of the bricks was sitting by the rear tire, and Sasuke went sprawling. Thinking of a shattered hipbone, Sasuke flung his hand out for balance, and felt something slice his palm. "Fuck!" he hollered.
He was bleeding. Badly. Hastily fishing his kerchief from his back pocket, Sasuke saw that he'd put his hand on a jagged piece of scrap metal that was sitting on the garage's worktable. Jesus, I'll need a tetanus shot. He wrapped the gash tightly, but the material was quickly soaked through.
"What're you doing?"
He whirled to find Naruto outlined in midday sunlight beneath the garage door. "Nothing." He had a hand towel in his glove compartment, he remembered.
Naruto draped an arm over the passenger door when Sasuke opened it, watching him rummage in the glove compartment for something. He saw the duffel bag, but by then Sasuke was straightening up. "How come you didn't come to bed?" He pushed the door shut so he could lean on Sasuke instead. "Missed you." He kissed his neck.
"Do you mind?" Sasuke hunched away from the gesture, pressing hard on his hand. "I'm busy."
"Doing what?" Naruto didn't move away. His eyes dropped and he saw the bloody hand towel. "Hey…what happened?"
Moving away from Naruto's prying hands, Sasuke went to the driver's side. "Little scratch. I'm fine, not that you asked."
"Didn't give me a chance to, did you?" Naruto eyed the blood splatters on the floor. "And that doesn't look like a little scratch." He went around to the driver's side too, where Sasuke was trying to open the door without letting go of his hand. He reached for the hand towel again.
"Look, I said it's nothing!" Sasuke pulled away, turning to shield his hand with his body.
"Well, lemme see at least? Christ."
Sasuke reluctantly let his hand be tugged free of the grip he had on it, and the towel and kerchief peeled away. He stared at Naruto's bent head, while Naruto stared at the cut. The blond hair was liberally sprinkled with white. It registered with him just how strange it was for Naruto to be holding his hand. They never touched anymore. For sure they never showed this level of concern over each other.
"Pretty ugly," Naruto said at last. "Needs stitches. Here, I'll drive you to the hospital." He took Sasuke's keys from him before he could protest.
"I don't need you to drive me, I can drive myself."
"Don't be an idiot. You can't drive with that hand."
"And you don't really care, so why bother?"
"If I didn't I'd be in bed."
"Then go on to bed." He made a grab for the keys.
Naruto held them out of reach and got behind the wheel. "Bed's been cold lately. Get in. Get in," he repeated when Sasuke just stood there. "Before you bleed to death."
Some grumbling and not a few choice comments later, they were speeding down Jefferson's main road.
At the emergency room, they were left to wait an hour. Sasuke sat in stony silence, keenly aware of his graceful exit from his old life being ruined. Naruto paced up and down the waiting room until he finally cornered a nurse ninety minutes after they'd arrived and told her he'd see her fired if someone didn't stitch Sasuke's hand sometime this year.
"Can you believe these cunts?" Naruto huffed when he dropped down beside him a minute later. "Dragging ass when there are people that need seeing to."
"It's the budget cuts. Should be four or five nurses working the emergency room at least, but there are only two. You can bet the staff is cut elsewhere in the hospital as well. Sakura told me they rotate nurses and technicians between multiple locations, and only have them work part-time so they don't have to pay them benefits they'd receive for full-time work."
"Shit," Naruto whistled. "Makes you glad we're not working…but that's no excuse. They need to get their asses in gear. Hey!" He hailed the passing nurse again, then got up to follow her when she ignored him, cussing loudly all the while.
Sasuke was suddenly in a better mood, even with his hand throbbing. Hearing the heated tirade between them, he was touched. Been awhile since I've seen him angry on my behalf.
-oOo-
It was after 7 in the evening by the time Naruto turned the Dodge Ram into their drive and pulled into the garage. They were both tired and irritable, but not with each other. That was a welcome change. Sasuke was still struggling with his seatbelt when Naruto came around the truck, opened his door, and unfastened it for him. When he leaned across Sasuke's lap to do this, the faint smell of his aftershave had Sasuke's stomach muscles tightening in another aberrant thrill of desire.
Naruto saw the bag again. When Sasuke was out of the truck, he nodded at it. "Going somewhere?" he asked quietly. His blue eyes were direct, looking for the answer before Sasuke even opened his mouth.
Sasuke considered lying, but he could tell it would be pointless. Naruto's expression said he knew. That he might have known for some time.
Truth was, what with everything that had happened today, Sasuke didn't quite feel like leaving anymore. At least not right now. All he wanted was to lie down and sleep. Naruto had been markedly less prickish today too, which was probably why he walked toward the house without answering. He needed to get his thoughts in order again, and right now he was too tired for any type of discussion.
The smell of rich beef stew hit them when they entered the house. Sasuke had forgotten all about the crockpot he'd put on. "Hungry?" Naruto asked as he went to the kitchen.
"No."
"Lemme turn the food off, then. I'll be right up."
Sasuke stood in the bedroom, looking at his heavily bandaged hand. When he felt tears spring up suddenly, he cursed. He was supposed to be high in the sky right now, flying toward a new life. Nothing ever went his way, it seemed.
Naruto came in and shut the door softly. He didn't comment on the watery eyes. Just stood by the door a minute, then went over and helped Sasuke out of his jacket. He continued undressing him, letting the clothes fall where they would, and knowing how much Sasuke hated that. The secret pack of smokes and the lighter were discovered. He saw that a few cigs were missing and clenched his jaw in rage. Cancer survivor or no, the man would smoke himself into the grave. He was determined to. Naruto crushed the red and white package in his fist and threw both it and the lighter into the garbage. Sasuke saw and said not a word.
When they were both down to their undies, Naruto led him toward the bed, pulled the covers down, and helped him in before climbing in beside him. He let the quiet sniffling wind down, watching as Sasuke used his good hand to scrub his face clean. "You scared me today, you know that?" he said when the crying was over.
Not sure if he was talking about the bag or the hand, Sasuke only glanced at him.
"I don't want to lose you."
"Cut wasn't fatal," Sasuke mumbled.
"I know."
So it's the bag. Sasuke didn't know what to say. They stared at each other for a while. Naruto had his head propped on a hand, face thoughtful. Eventually Sasuke turned over to sleep, but Naruto grabbed his shoulder and turned him back over. He went so far as to hold him in that position, and Sasuke felt the mild desire from earlier sweep through him again, this time full and strong. Sensing it, Naruto rolled onto him and kissed him hard.
God yes, Sasuke thought with a moan. Naruto's familiar burly weight settled on him and it felt like heaven. Better, even. The large hands in his hair, the furry knee parting his thighs, the way Naruto kissed him without holding back… Yes, yes, yes. And that cock, the steely length of it pressed to his own hardening one. Fuck yes.
Naruto was careful of the hand, but other than that Sasuke would have sworn twenty years had been shaved from both of them; the aches and pains and stiffness they lived with seemed to be temporarily absent. They rolled and kissed and caressed in a frenzy of sweaty grunts. Rough fingers entered him, rasping along his unused ring of muscles, and Sasuke said, "Now."
"You sure?"
Sasuke grasped that intent face to his. "Fuck me."
It was good. They were a bit rusty, but they'd been together so long that they soon fell into the familiar rhythm. Sasuke had time to marvel that a lot of the power Naruto had enjoyed in his youth was still with him. Come to that, he himself wasn't in bad shape; the way Naruto turned him this way and that, fucking him in three or four different positions, proved that he wasn't quite the old man he saw himself as. It lasted a good hour. More. Naruto stopped a few times, drawing it out, but he didn't go soft. Sasuke was surprised he was able to keep up with him. Lord, but he'd needed this.
-oOo-
"Whew," Naruto gusted when it was over. "Been awhile since it was that good."
"Don't I know it. Can't remember the last time we fucked, much less for that long or that hard. What are you, on Viagra? Jesus, I can't even breathe."
"Heh, neither can I. I'll take that as a compliment. No pills. And it's been eight months," Naruto supplied. "You never seem to want to do it."
"Me?"
"You."
"You're the one who's never in the mood."
Naruto lazily turned his head to look at him. "I'm in the mood at least three times a week."
Sasuke didn't want another argument, not now when he could feel Naruto's spunk still filling him and he was so mellow. "Hmph. We'll see how long till the next time."
"Give me an hour."
Now it was Sasuke's turn to stare. "You flatter yourself."
"I'm serious. Okay, maybe two."
A long silence fell between them, with each man staring up at the ceiling. Sasuke was thinking of getting a smoke from the trash can, but Naruto decided to speak.
"You didn't answer my question earlier. You going somewhere?"
Yes. I'd planned to head to the airport and get on the next plane smoking. Wouldn't even care where it was heading. So long as I didn't have to see Georgia or you anymore, I'd have been fine. Maybe Japan, see the ancestral home and all that.
There were a lot of evasive answers he could give, he supposed. But they would be the same bullshit he'd been telling himself for the past fifteen years. If he was going to go, he'd have gone by now. "No. I guess not."
Naruto accepted this in silence. He reached for Sasuke's bandaged hand where it lay between them, and held it tightly.
It wasn't two hours later, but he did manage another long round just as dawn was approaching. Sasuke said he'd had enough. They settled down, weak as kittens, to face each other. "Sasuke?" Naruto whispered.
"Hn."
"You know I love you, right?"
Sasuke managed a sleepy smile. The aches and pains were settling in again. He knew he'd be paying for this night for days to come, and wondered if Naruto was hurting at all. Probably. "Yeah, I know."
Their eyes drifted shut.
"I know I piss you off something awful."
"That you do, but I'm no saint myself." He yawned. "Let me sleep."
"You're my life, Sasuke."
That last line followed him into sleep, where it turned over and over in dreamy circles in his mind. I guess you're my life too, or I wouldn't still be here. Love you, Naruto.