Disclaimer: Don't own.
Genres: General, romance
Rating: PG13/T
Warnings: boy/boy, profanity, implied intimacy
Summary: Fifteen to midnight. Oh, happy New Year.
Author's note: Lawls, darlings. Another mediocre, typical ficlet in which this author just keeps messing with first person point of view and there are too many saccharine sentiments. This author needs to stop writing these, and um, she promises to.
Happy holidays and happy New Year to everyone! This is my gift, with special thanks to the friends. I adore you all.
And I keep forgetting to thank PenCorp, but that I do. Right now.
-
and oh baby, but it's
fifteen to midnight.
-
365 days are done, and it's fifteen to midnight.
Oh, and happy New Year.
I guess I have it. A happy new year, you know. I had a happy old (erm?) year, and I think I have a happy new one in front of me.
So… Happy. That's what I am. What I usually am, and there are reasons.
I'm going to sound so corny.
But as I stand here (lie here?)… I know I have love, all the best kinds. And it's just great, yanno? Oh. And I learned something. Ever heard "Love is the answer"? Well, I'm here to tell you it's not, but it's a part of The Answer. An important part, and I have it. Friends. Family. Lover. And those words overlap, and damn, but I am positively drowning in love.
You know what else?
I'm just glad because Naruto Uzumaki made it through another year!
Well, holy shit, but he should've been stoned to death ages ago.
…
And well, now Naruto Uzumaki's arm hurts because a Sasuke Uchiha punched him pretty damn hard for that bit of black humor.
That bastard is such a bastard.
But hey, me and him? We made it through another year, too. This us. It survived, and I'm astonished. I tell him that, and—
He thinks I'm being sappy and stupid again. Sentimental moron- those were his words. And oh, okay, mister, you can call me that. And you can go ahead, and yes, kiss me violently to shut me up. Oh yes please, bastard.
And hey, bastard:
Don't think I can't feel happy new year dobe being mouthed against my skin. And that upward twitch of your lips? Don't think I can't tell what that means.
Because I can.
(And I'm grinning, and you're embarrassed again- how cute- that's always satisfying. But it doesn't become you, and argh, don't punch me again, please? 'Cause, love you too, bastard. And I'm glad we made it through another year.)