A/N: Prompt 01 04 etc etc. Whatever.
Anyway, warnings, this is SLASH. It wasn't supposed to be, but hey, why not? Slash never hurt anyone... who wasn't asking for it. Mildly crack-tastic. Some swearing. Naruto POV. That is all.
Oh, and the killing pandas thing is just an internet quote. There were no actual killed pandas, or even injured ones. Now that really is all.
Relax? Relax?! Who could relax at a time like this?! No one had said anything about dancing! Or killing pandas! Or buckets… on my head no less! And no one, no one had warned me about the tap dancing wet t-shirt contest. That was one of those things that, as a gay man, I would have thrown down the rainbow card and gotten myself out of if I had known it had been coming.
Ooooh, I blame Neji. Fucking bastard just had to up and "do his duty by his clan" and now I was stuck in the corner of what can only be described as the bachelor party from hell.
Note to self: never, ever let Shikamaru get drunk. Ever. Not even if the fate of the world depends upon it. Son of a bitch!
There was a flash and a bang from my left and the entire building rocked, causing bits of the ceiling to patter down on us all. I took the opportunity to bury my face in my hands. I am not, nor have I ever been, accused of being a wet blanket. In fact, in most situations I can be as wild as the next guy when it comes to partying down. This is not most situations.
Oh my god, I'm still drunk. I can't possibly have my hangover already. Maybe I should get even more drunk.
Something cold and wet and far too small to be anything safe, like a pint of beer, touched my hand and I flinched away. Okay, maybe "recoiled like I'd just touched a hot stove" might be a better description. Either way, it made my looming headache edge just a little closer to the surface.
"Damn."
The cold wet thing pressed itself to me again and I finally found the courage to look and see what, exactly, it was. Akamaru. Thank god. I patted his head and then, when he twisted around away from me pointedly, left my fingers buried in the coat along his back. He took a step, then looked back, again pointedly. Sheesh, the dog was more scoldy than Iruka-sensei.
Obediently, I stood up and followed as Akamaru found a safe route through the room. And by safe, I mean avoiding the debris of our party and somehow keeping us out of the eyesight of the guys who were still going strong. It was a fucking miracle was what it was. I'd been trying to do the same thing for almost an hour without luck. Someone always managed to catch sight of me and drag me back into the chaos.
I couldn't contain a shudder.
At the same moment, a warm hand clamped down on my left shoulder, making me jump. If experience hadn't already taught me that it would only have made things worse, I would have screamed, high and long. Like a girl. And wouldn't Sakura-chan have my head for that thought.
"My god, let's get out of here," Kiba growled directly into my left ear, using his grip on my shoulder and the help of his dog to propel me toward the exit. The elusive, elusive exit. I could smell the alcohol on his breath but he was helping me leave instead of trying to make me stay, so I didn't resist. Hell, I was drunk too.
Trying to be ninja-quiet, a feat that is rather difficult to manage when drunk, not to mention when the door is hanging half off its hinges, I pushed the exit open and a strong shove from my new ally sent me through it.
The night air was like four shots of tequila. I swallowed it like a drowning man who wanted to be really, really drunk when he died. It wasn't like the end wasn't already inevitable. I heard the door clank shut behind us, then Kiba let go, slumping against the outer wall of the joint.
"Remind me," he said shakily, "never to let the quiet ones get trashed ever again."
I shuddered. "Neji, Shikamaru, Sai and Sasuke. I would never, in a million, billion, gazillion years have expected that."
"No shit. I still can't quite follow what they thought they were doing with the stapler and the sock puppet."
Another explosion rocked what had once been a fairly seedy bar and strip club before I could respond, which was fine because what was there to say about the sock puppet? Nothing, that's what.
"Someone will have called the ANBU Domestic Security squad by now," Kiba said, taking charge of the situation, much to my relief. "We do not want to be here when they show up."
"No shit," I echoed, shaking my head and regretting it. I wasn't nearly drunk enough to enjoy being drunk, but too drunk to be merely happily tipsy. "I need booze."
Kiba and Akamaru agreed with me instantly. "Booze I can do. Come on." I felt his hand on my arm again and again I followed willingly as he took a running leap onto the nearest rooftop. Within seconds it was obvious we were heading to his place, and shortly thereafter I began to feel a bit recovered. Free. A little. There are some things only time and selective memory loss can cure.
I grimaced and missed my footing on a launch, coming down harder than I should've.
"You okay?" Kiba asked instantly, though he didn't slow down in his, I was coming to realize, rapid flight from the scene of the party.
"I think I need a shower after I get that booze," I replied, shaking my head but keeping up with his pace.
Kiba snorted, a disbelieving sound. "I don't blame you. I don't know where they got those eggs…. Fuck, I think I might join you."
At this point, I was in no mood to argue. He was giving me alcohol and letting me wash. Besides the Inuzuka were known for their relaxed attitudes toward sexual preference, which was why Kiba was one of the first people I told when I finally figured out I was gay. The fact that he had responded by saying he was bi and did I want him to teach me where all the bits went during gay sex… well, it didn't really ruin our close friendship.
Kiba didn't even have to pause to open his door. That dog of his, that damn useful dog, had gotten there first and pushed open the sliding glass door on his balcony. We were inside in seconds and Kiba immediately began stripping off his shirt as he headed into the kitchen, presumably to get the alcohol. I shut the door behind me and did the same, feeling better as soon as the who-knows-what encrusted shirt was off me and in a lump on the floor.
"Tequila for you. Jack for me," Kiba said, handing me my favorite as he came back into the dark room, already stripped to his boxers. "Chug it while I go turn on the water."
There was something lovely about having a person you could trust to order you around when you really didn't feel like giving a crap, I decided, taking a healthy swallow from my bottle of amber liquid. It was even nicer when said person did take over when needed. I swallowed again, enjoying the burn. Like with everything else, the "injury" of being drunk got healed a lot faster for me than normal people but that didn't mean I couldn't get trashed. The white buzz in my head was growing stronger, washing away the sights and sounds and smells.
I drank again and stripped out of the rest of my clothes before it became too complicated a task for me to manage. Successfully naked, I wandered down the hallway after Kiba, the bottle of tequila all but glued to my lips. It was easy to find the bathroom. It was the only room in the apartment that had the light on.
Walking in, I set the half empty bottle on the edge of the skin and stepped directly into the shower, heedless of the fact that Kiba was in the room and I was naked. I really didn't give a damn. A minute later, as I fought to make the shampoo clean everything that was in my hair out of my hair, I heard him step into the stall behind me and ask me to pass him the soap.
I grunted a response as I handed it to him and what followed was five minute of the kind of silent, frenzied scrubbing usually reserved for after the most bloody of missions. I took off four layers of skin and felt the inchy pain of healing as the water pounded over me. I felt clean and refreshed and very, very pleasantly drunk. And I was naked, in the shower, with an equally naked Kiba.
Decisions, decisions.
Yeah, right.
It was a matter of six inches to be right where I wanted to be, behind him and a little to the left. Dipping my head I nipped at his bare shoulder, tasting nothing more than water. He growled in a good way–dog boy and his love bite fetish–and turned around.
Smirking, he backed me into the shower wall. That was when I knew I'd been set up.
Bastard. Thank god he was good in bed and knew it. Thank god he knew I knew it. Thank-Oh yeah! Thank god he knew that trick!
A/N: All the cookies go to the fabulous Lystee, who is seriously one of my favorite Naruto authors, along with all the apologies because I was supposed to send this to her ages ago. Plus I still owe her some SasuNaru one-shots. God I hate college. It is my only excuse.