Disclaimer: Ha. Ha. Ha. Like I own anything.
Summary: Sasuke tastes like alcohol. Suigetsu has always hated doing the right thing. SuiSasu. AU, Modern.
Raw
Sasuke tastes like alcohol. Bitter, stringent, but Suigetsu can't imagine making out with him any other way. Can't imagine a sober Sasuke kissing him at all, much less with the same need, same desire as he has now. Can't imagine a sober Sasuke pressing against him, can't imagine that he'd allow Suigetsu to tangle his fingers into his hair... Can't imagine kissing Sasuke at all, except for like this. Can't imagine it, as much as he wants to, has always wanted to.
They part and Sasuke's flushed, mostly from drinking the vodka that he still grasps loosely in one hand, colorless as water, but Suigetsu knows what it is and it dangles from Sasuke's fingers like sin. Suigetsu takes the glass gently and sets it down on the coffee table nearby.
He turns back, presses his lips against Sasuke's. Less chaste this time, and Sasuke makes a little sound, one that normally Suigetsu would have found hot, but it makes his stomach twist instead, makes him kiss harder. Hands freed, Sasuke grips Suigetsu's shoulders, kisses back, and is just as needy.
Suigetsu's always hated Sasuke. Always hated his arrogance and grace and everything else about him. He's hated his moodiness, hated his skewed sense of justice... Always hated him. So much. And he kisses deeper, angrier, and they manage to get to the couch before breaking away again, panting for breath. He hates Sasuke because every kiss they share is so filled with need, but none of that need is for him.
He leans down, presses his lips against Sasuke's; gentler, softer, kinder. When Sasuke begins to kiss back, Suigetsu jerks away, stumbles off the couch, and pinches the bridge of his nose. He hears Sasuke sit up slowly.
Anger overwhelms Suigetsu and he storms over to the coffee table, downs the last of the vodka and he wants to throw the glass against the wall and scream. Instead, with all the restraint and control Sasuke is supposed to have, he sets the glass back down.
He can't look at Sasuke. Can't look at those confused and angry eyes, or at his lips. Can't look at the fucking bastard at all. Not tonight. Not this night.
Suigetsu hates him, even when he tastes like alcohol, even when Sasuke wants him, too.
Without a word, he leaves.
The night air is cool and raw in his lungs. He reaches into his pockets, searching for a cigarette and when he remembers he's been trying to quit, he swears and kicks a wall. Then, and only then, the anger fades. The night is cool and smells like rain—reminds him of Sasuke and all he can't have. Not now, not yet—possibly not ever. And Suigetsu closes his eyes, breathes the night air, and sighs.
End Raw