I'll Cry if I want To

Disclaimer: Does not own Naruto

"It's my Party". What can I say?

Pairings: SasuNaru

It's Sakura's Sweet Sixteen Birthday, and she invites Naruto, who has risen in popularity under Sasuke's innovative care, for the said Sasuke had commanded so. However, all things come with a price, even an invitation.

Set in the 1950's-ish.


Naruto walked through the cherry oak doors. His cardigan pulled tight from the cold brash night. The music was nice, the people friendly here. Every ceiling light had been dimmed. Warm glows of light lurked around the corners having parties of their own. It was altogether a fun place to be.

'It's so lucky I got invited.'

There was the stereotypical punch bowl lying on the table next to it was a shiny metallic ladle. A few chip bowls held their place beside it and the red plastic cups held the Queen's seat next to the punch. Naruto picked up a cup, tipped the red filmy liquid into it and leaned back. Another song was blearing on throbbing through the airwaves. The first few notes punched the air then left soft streams patching things up. Then came the chorale. A few people were out on the plush carpet thrusting together. Starched petticoat and skirt swung billowed out. They seemed to be having fun. A loud coarse skipping sound came from his cup. The wool from his cardigan felt soggy. He had finished the last of the few artificial cherry dewdrops. There was no way he could recover from that if somebody noticed and ratted. Dread gripped his heart tight.

' Did anyone hear?'

Retreating to an observing corner, Naruto scanned the crowd. His face matched his cup. Thankfully the crowd was drowned in the singer's melancholy tunes. He had escaped what would have, to him, been mortification that night.

'I must be more careful. If it gets word that I'm not as suave as I was reputed to be, no one will invite me to their parties. I'd be back to square one. Be labeled cooties again. Besides, I bet that not even Sasuke could get me back into this slot. Speaking of the devil, where is that leader of the pack Sasuke? He is sure to be enticing the girls about now.'

Naruto walked to a staircase. His pace quickened unknowingly. Twenty-four steps found Naruto at the top of the stairwell. He gripped the curved engraved banister, but slid back a bit from sweaty palms.

'Sasuke is probably arriving now, crooning something about being fashionably late. Even so, don't let it get to you. Walk down their slowly and slip the lines we rehearsed under his nose.'


At the top, the view was endless, at least until the kitchen. An entire bevy of people thrived underneath. There were in clumps, some exclusive to two or three people and the other was the dance floor mass. Different hair colors bobbed and weaved together. There was no sight of a styled ebony strand though. Come to think of it, Sakura, the hostess wasn't anywhere to be seen too. But then, she was probably in the kitchen worrying about a snack, that's how it usually went in such high maintenance parties, right?

Naruto leaned a little closer to the edge intent on something slightly beneath the staircase. The room was shaped in a blunted arrow, locating the stairs right on the dulled tip. There was two corners that, if a person leaned, he could see what he otherwise couldn't. And there, a blaze of red caught his eye. Gaara was sifting through an ashtray?

'That can't be right.'

No, it was just a new plate of cold cuts. But, if they were new, that meant that Sakura would be nearby passing them out. Naruto craned his neck to see if there was anyone besides Gaara. He clung to the to the engraving and nearly fell from the sudden tinny laughter echoing out of the kitchen. Naruto withdrew his neck then stepped back into place, he had found that the length was far too short for the job. More laugher was pitched out from the kitchen. Curiosity peaked and it took a large man of will to squelch it. The kind of man he wasn't.

Reaching ground level took a while, since the revised Naruto took things as they came, not rushing forward in an unseemly manner. His steps were calculated, seemingly graceful. If he had been like before, Naruto would not have bothered since his reputation couldn't have sunk any lower into riff-raff rule, but with Sasuke speaking to him and Sakura inviting him to such a big bash as her Sweet Sixteen things had to change.

'I gotta keep up my act. No knowing who's watching at the moment.' Though it seemed unlikely someone was actually going to notice him with the new popular song jiving on.

Rounding the corner, Naruto came upon Gaara. He was in the middle of a piece of ham. And had it dangling from that cruel slit of a mouth. The mouth, which used to have Naruto smarting for months in bed because of its cruel words carelessly thrown. But now, he was normal, accepted by the in crowd, the populars. Gaara couldn't ridicule him anymore.

The given security was true, though unknown to Naruto, for a different reason. Sasuke had given his commands in their group and every one knew not to disobey his sovereign. Though, this rebelling adolescent could not understand why. The boy was nothing but a nuisance, always acting up around the teacher and trying so hard to fit in. The true upper-leveled group need not try. They sip their drinks nonchalantly repeating long phrases, which revealed nothing. No one who tried was actually accepted. In fact, Sasuke the leader didn't want his seat of power, which was why he was most appealing of all.

Most of the teeming crowd remembered when Sasuke had arrived on scene. His brother was top of the class and football captain before him, so it came as no surprise that Sasuke got high marks and automatic acceptance. But then no one knew Sasuke's true indifference until, when he was invited to hangout at a chief hotspot for lunch by the most revered of all females, Hinata, rich heiress of the Hyuga fortune. Sasuke refused on spot face-to-face saying he was inclined to dine alone. Gaara himself could not say he'd do the same. The girl's bodyguard, Neji, was sore for days after being Hinata's personal hissy fit toy. And Sasuke's image was the valiant, deviating hero for defying the top prep so politely.

Gaara continued to reminisce about the beginning of the school's three year lodging while thoughtfully chewing on his chilled slice of pork.

'In the second year was when Sasuke had noticed Naruto. At first we thought he was poking fun at him, complimenting his hair and stuff like that. Then, we didn't know what to think. At a point, I don't even think Sasuke knew what he was doing.' that the panda-esque boy.

Naruto sidled up beside Gaara; the table and chair flanked him now. Gaara was part of the rebel crowd in school, delving into the grunge look. He sported ripped tapered jeans pulled straight to brown loafers. A haggard tank top overflowed the confines of Gaara's belt finding its prison at the end, creating a flap of loose cloth. The redhead's hair was gathered into familiar spikes and expertly applied black eyeliner accentuated green eyes that tore your soul out of you. It was hard talking to Gaara, but Naruto managed to stay off any qualms with his silent mantra of sudden popularity.

"Ah, have you seen Sakura?" said the shy lad suddenly conscious of his garish cardigan and oversized slacks. Naruto stuffed his hands deep within the pocket, consciously wringing the pouch to surrender and bulging out in the movement. It was an awkward sight, but do whatever kept you calm.

Gaara noticed the movement, as did most everyone who bothered to look. Perhaps it was that or the cowed expression that twisted Naruto's face, but he couldn't stand him right now. It was liking wanting to kick a dog, so loyal and trusting. A scrawny mutt that came to beg for scraps, relying on its puppy dog countenance. In later hours Gaara bent over and kicked himself for that one careless act. The toxic words no one, powerful or weak could take back. But for now, he was living for the moment.

"Yeah, she's outback."

A smirk was hid behind Gaara's hand as he watched Naruto go outside. The fream.


Naruto stepped to the kitchen and reveled for a while, checking his image in a hanging pasta drainer. Blonde tufts were slightly tamed; he had rubbed a little grease in trying to back his hair into a ducktail hairstyle. It hadn't worked, but still the spiked look was okay. It didn't rival Sasuke's, but then, none could have stood proud before Sasuke's ducktail. His reigned just as supreme as he did. Those strands were dipped in refined grease, and set out to harden in complete solitude. Like everyone said, no one had hair like Sasuke.

The teen stepped a little closer examining flesh now. There was a pimple nestled right before his hairline, but the honey colored strands covered that. The scars he got from trying to climb a tree seemed unnoticeable tonight. Naruto tipped the spaghetti strainer to the bottom, checking his outfit. That cherry stain from before was still bright red because, it had soaked through and he had forgotten it.

'Darn, if I'm gonna get Sakura tonight I have to look topnotch.'

With the invite to Sakura's party and her sudden noticing of him there couldn't be a reason not to make a move. It was her sweet sixteen after all, and what better day to give her that sweet gift of love than when she blossomed into womanhood. They had both entered the same year of high school and instantly Sakura was the one.

Such a ruffian shouldn't even dream of possessing the graceful Hinata or boyishly cute Ino. No, Sakura was the medium, she was pretty, not overly so and had a few flaws, like a tedious laugh and overly sized forehead. Even though Sakura wasn't really that much of a classy chassis; she was dressed like all the other girls, poodle skirts and halter-tops. But in her princess dress that night; everyone felt her rapturous glory of having finally left her childhood behind.

Basking in the lit kitchen, Naruto stood still for a moment. Yes, Sakura was indeed very beautiful tonight, a true princess in that dress. And perhaps, a very large perhaps, she was suddenly out of reach. After all, girls wanted a respectable young man, future planned out ready to whisk out their blueprint of life as ready as they were to whisk the damsel in question, men that were going to a prestigious Ivy League college. Not boys that work part-time in the mechanic's shop and spent the rest at high school. Not boys smudged with grease and smelling of body odor not boys who played jokes on the teachers for the morsel of comedic appreciation thrown.

Sour laughter tore chunks from the handsome night sky. Appropriately reminding the teen of how many chinks Sakura had in her armor. Now was definitely the time. Work worn hands clasped the sliding frame. Then, slid the glass door out of way. Sakura was out there; and next to her primly seated on a bench was Sasuke.


"-You know, that Naruto kid looks at you funny at times."

Sakura's hand covered the pale one in a maternal gesture. Then moved back to sit in his own ruffled lair.

"Ah"

"Yeah, but I'll do it anyway."

"Ah"

"But then I don't think you should hang out with a fream like him. He's a definite loserville. And, well, all that staring seems to give people thoughts, right Sasuke?"

"Ah, would you mind if we went inside now. The wind is chilly."

"You'll remember what we agreed to, right Sasuke, and in return, maybe, boot me up there with the girls. I mean, we don't have to date or anything, just a little polishing for my reputation would do." called Sakura after his retreating figure.

"Let us have a dance."

Naruto eyes widened a bit at the oncoming footstep.

'Sasuke is coming over.'

He dove behind a potted plant, sniffling a bit in the wait.

"Sasuke's gonna shun me, he's gonna take me down. He saw my love of Sakura. I-"

A choked sob distorted his whisper. But then, sometimes it was better to accept things when you heard yourself say them. Naruto wrung his hands again, then the leaves of the plant.

"I'm not gonna be liked anymore."

Sasuke whisked past sparing no glance. It would have been a perfect dismissal if not for a strained voice that drifted past. "I want to see you after this dance, Naruto."

Back inside the once warm air was a smoldering tepid environment. Sasuke, true to his word, was dancing with Sakura, one hand at her waist and the other entwined with her hand. They rocked back and forward to the slow painful beat. Every swing pricked more tears into crystalline blue eyes. There was this kind of hurt that stung like salt.

'It looks like Sasuke picked another thing I wanted. But, he could have taken one of the greats, leaving some of my kind to scrounge off the defected ones. Would you think- He knew how I felt- maybe he did it too…too teach me some lesson? That the gods frown upon to much happiness.'

Sasuke swept past him, pink and white twirled around the other boy's form. Those two dark eyes were fixated on Naruto, though. Darkening, sultry eyes, saved for the bedroom. The kind of eyes that he had secreted under his mattress in form of racy lacy magazine brochures. They swung into another fold of the room, but Sasuke's eyes continued their warm glare. Velvet depths covered across Naruto's length. Those eyes, so hypnotic, pinning him by the waist and forcing his quivering chin up.

'I cannot cr-ry', half-formed thoughts swirled along with the step.

Then, the chorus ended and during the instrumental intercourse, Sasuke dipped Sakura low ending with a hot searing kiss.

"I—"

Naruto fled to the garden, flicking away a few senseless tears.


Fream geek

Classy Chassis hot chick

One more thing, erm, I simply could not picture Gaara as a Greaser…so I had to let his attitude and clothing…become a plot hole…forgive me. I have failed as an author.

Behold the drama. No, this is SasuNaru and will reach its rated potential at the end of song two Judy's turn to Cry. I however, felt lazy and decided to make this a two part. Lime, steam, jealousy and racy Sasuke lines will be in the second part. Hinata is very off character…but then… I cannot help it. That kind of person is too nice…

Dear Lord, I crave Review…For, Review is no longer a simple string of words, but a damsel garbed in light layered gown of gratitude, the burning flames of truth or the sleek cut silver dress of criticism. Come to me my love! Shine upon this crude unrefined soul! (Has broken down to tears) Please, do not look upon my pitiful form…pats herself on the back It's okay, honey. Bear with it.

There used to be lyrics in it, but I took them out.