Summary: Naruto has gone to stay with his best friend Gaara and Neji (in the Mediterranean. Lucky bastard!), who is paying the expenses of buying the house by letting out the Casita to holiday people. When Naruto and Gaara sit and talk, Naruto mentions the only person he ever loved. But what if he sees that person again?
Disclaimer: This story was written by Rosamunde Pilcher for women's magazine in the 1980's. So, by logic, it doesn't belong to me. Naruto and all related characters, names and terminology belongs to Masashi Kishimoto/Shueisha Inc... sighs. Anyway, i just wanted to upload this fic because it seemed a really nice story. ENJOY !
Warning: Yaoi. NaruSasu, implied NejiGaara, implied KakIru. Don't like, don't read.
THE STONE BOY
Naruto had never been to this particular Mediterranean island before, and yet the velvet blue darkness of night he remembered from other holidays, the constant chirp of cicadas, the warm smells of pine and juniper, blown through the open windows of the car on a wind that spoke of sea.
Even arrival at his best friend and Neji's villa was something of a mystery. Neji packed the car some distance from the dark shape of the house. A string of lights illuminated a path, descending by means of small flights of steps. Gaara led the way, and Naruto followed, carrying his flight bag, and Neji brought up the rear, with his suitcase.
In front of the house ran a terrace, crowded with terracotta jars spilling rainbow of flowers. Denise switched on a light, and everything was all at once floodlit, like a stage-set.
From the terace a door led into a house. This was not a modern villa but an island 'quinta' which Gaara and Neji had bought and reconstructed some years ago. The night was warm, but the thick-walled interior felt cool, with red-tiled floors and white walls.
Gaara said, "Now, would you like something to eat?"
"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, just tired."
"Bed, then." Gaara led the way up a narrow staircase. "You're sleeping here . . ."
Naruto followed him through a door into a small room of charming simplicity. Dark beams barred the white-washed ceiling. A goatskin rug, a few hooks for clothes, an old carved chest with a mirror hung over it.
"It's not very smart, I'm afraid, but it's not meant to be a very smart house. The bathroom's down the passage, and if you want, there's a mosquito net . . . just tuck it under the mattress. I'd advise you to use it, the mosquitos are bad bad here." He gently slapped Naruto on the head. "Sleep well. We'll talk tomorrow."
The door closed behind him. Left alone, Naruto kicked off his shoes, felt the grateful coolness of polished tiles on the soles of her tired feet. He went to the little window, undid the shutters and folded them back. Neji had turned off the terrace lights, and he leaned his arms on the deep sill and took deep breaths of scented velvet-dark air. Instantly a mosquito introduced itself, whining around the room like a miniature jet. He went to the bed and unknotted the mosquito net which dropped, in filmy folds, to the floor, then he opened his suitcase and began to unpack.
-----
It was 10.00 before Naruto woke up, and found the sun already high in the sky. He emerged, with some difficulty, from the mosquito net and went to the window. In the bright, hot light of morning, all was revealed, and it was even better than he had dared to expect.
Below the terrace; to one side a small swimming-pool. Steps led down into the garden, shaded here and there with gnarled olive trees. Thick stone walls embraced this plot, and beyond these an almond orchard sloped to a narrow country road. Across the road stood another small house, and then the sea; not the open sea, but a wide inlet of blue water thrusting inland through groves of umbrella pines. The air smelt of lemons and warm resin. Naruto turned from the window, found a pair of clean boxers, brushed (or at least tried) his fair hair, grabbed a towel, and went, barefoot, downstairs. There was no sign of Neji, but he found Gaara in the little kitchen, dressed in a pair of boxers.
"Good morning"
Gaara turned from the sink. "There you are! How did you sleep?"
"Like a log."
"Fancy a cup of coffee?"
"Please."
"Me too. Let's take it down to the pool."
So breakfast was a juicy orange and a cup of black coffee, consumed in the little shaded pavilion, roofed with split cane, which served as a changing-room for the swimming-pool.
There were a number of brightly coloured chairs set around, and tubs of scarlet geraniums, and at the end of the pool stood a charming stone statue of a boy, his head turned, playing a pipe.
"Where did you get the statue, Gaara?"
"I found it in an antique shop in the village. I think he's meant to be a sort of Cupid. The swimming-pool was a bit dull until he arrived."
"It's a heavenly house. Do you own the almond orchard, too?"
"Yes, and the other little house across the road. We call it the Casita (1). It was all part of the property, so we took a deep breath and bought the lot. We did up the casita, put in a bathroom, and we let it out to holiday people. It helps pay a few of the expenses."
"Have you got anyone living there now?"
"Yes, a rather nice man. He arrived a couple of days ago. I went down to introduce myself and made sure he'd got everything he wanted, and seemed very content, In fact -" Gaara's voice became elaborately casual - "we've asked our great friends, the Hatakes, to come for dinnew tonight. I wanted you to meet them. They live here permanently, as Kakashi is a sculptor. Anyway, I asked our lodger to come as well. I thought it might be more amusing for you."
"I hope you aren't matchmaking again."
"Of course not," but his cheeks were rosy and Naruto knew that already his best friend had started to scheme. He was 5 years older than Naruto, only thirty-one, and in some ways more like a brother than best friend. Naruto had been the groomsmaid (?) when Neji and Gaara were married, and this seemed to give Gaara a proprietory interest in Naruto's love life. He was constantly producing suitable women, and being constantly disapointed in his disinterest in them. He was even more disapointed in Naruto's determination to carve a career for himself.
Starting as a junior typist with a sports magazine, he had slowly climbed the ladder until now, at twenty-six, he was one of the editors of the Football sector. As his job had grown in responsibility, so had his salary, and he had made his way from a room in another person's house, to a basement flat, and finally, with the help of a small legacy when his grandmother died, to his own small red brick terrace house in Fulham. He had a car as well. He had his independence. He needed nothing more.
Nothing more. Sometimes, when he was tired or depressed, or another birthday loomed in the not-too-distant future, he had to tell himself this, firmly, aloud, as though he were speaking to another person. "I have it all. I need nothing more."
"It's just," Gaara persisted, "that I don't like to think of you never marrying. It would be so lonely."
"I like being alone. I'm with other people all day."
"But being with someone you love isn't being with other people. It's like being with the other half of yourself."
"Not eveyrone's as lucky as you." He tried diverting the conversation. "Where is Neji, by the way?"
"He's gone to the garage to pick up a tyre. He'll be back for lunch. And anyway -" Naruto realised that Gaara was not to be diverted - "you have to think about your old age."
"I'm not thirty yet! I don't want to think about old age."
"You're so gorgeous . . . yes, you are. You always have been. I can't believe you've reached twenty-six, and you've never once been in love."
Naruto lay back in his chair; observed, through dark glasses, the length of the pool, shifting and rippling as the breeze touched the surface of the water. At its end the stone boy stood, silhouetted against the sky."
He said at last, "I was once, but it's over."
"Oh . . . Naruto. Why?"
"I suppose because I wasn't prepared for total commitment. And if you give your heart to a man, you have to trust him not to break it. I couldn't bear to become jelaous and suspicious." (2)
"Why should you?"
"Because of his job. He was a photographer - always off on glamorous locations with a harem of gorgeous men-models."
"Were you going to get married?"
"We talked about it."
"Was he in love?"
"Oh, Gaara, I don't know. I suppose so."
"And you?" (3)
In love. He remembered the excitement of those days. The sudden ecstasy of an unexpected phone call. The brilliance and beauty of the most mundane objects. Laughter over nothing, shared across small candlelit tables; walking together on sunlit pavements; smelling lilac on a city street; driving in his car down to the country, with the sun roof open to the sky and a whole weekend ahead, and the sensation that there was nobody in the world but the two of them.
Gaara was waiting for an answer. Naruto answered ruefully. "Again . . . I suppose so. But it's over now."
"Did you finish it, or did he?"
"I did. He went away for three weeks, and I was torn to pieces with every sort of shameful emotion. I hated every moment of it because I hated myself. I never knew I could be like that. Not just missing him, but imagining every sort of intrigue. You can't live with the sort of distrust."
"When did this happen?" Gaara asked.
"A couple of years ago. He went off to work in America."
"Do you write?"
"No, he wrote me a letter, but I didn't reply. He's probably married by now, to some golden-skinned, wind-surfing American guy. And blissfully happy. Don't let's talk about him any more." He pulled off his dark glasses and sat up. "I'm too hot to lie here for another moment. Let's swim."
------
He was in his room, hetting changed, when he heard the Hatakes arrive. From the terrace below, voices floated upwards, as Neji greeted his guests.
He turned from the mirror, and took from the bed a white shirt and slipped it over his T-shirt. He checked his pants, sprayed som men's cologne and went down the stairs.
As he appeared on the terrace, Gaara saw him and said his name, and the men got ti their feet as he was introduced.
"This is my friend Naruto. Hatake Kakashi and Iruka. Come, sit down. I thought perhaps you'd gone to sleep and I was going to come and wake you."
"I did sleep, but only for an hour."
"You're looking just marvellous," said Hatake Iruka. "Not burnt at all. Just brown. First days in this heat sometimes knock visitors out."
"I'm much too careful for that." Naruto smiled.
"How long are you here for? Two weeks. Then Gaara and Neji must bring you over to see us. We live here all the time, in a tiny house in the main street of the village. There's a yard at the back and a donkey shed that Kakashi's turned into a studio."
Gaara came to join them. "Now, we're only waiting for our final guest. He's our lodger from the Casita, Iruka."
"All on his own?"
"Yes. A very self-contained person. Interesting, I thought. I hope he doesn't forget to come."
"He hasn't forgotten," said Naruto. While they spoke he had glimpsed the pale blur of a man's white shirt approaching the house by way of the almond orchard and the pool. As he passed the stone boy, and moved into the diffused light from the terrace, his figure took shape, a slightly built man, dark-headed, moving easily wearing a white shirt, open necked and a pair of faded jeans. For an instant he disappeared behind the retaining wall, and then, almost at one, appeared again, climbing the steps which led up on to the terrace. Now, he stood in full light. "He's here," he finished.
Gaara sprang to his feet. "Oh, I'm glad. I was afraid you'd forgotten."
"Of course not."
"How nice to have you with us, Sasuke." Gaara began the round of introductions. "And this is my friend Uzumaki Naruto, who's staying with us," he ended.
His hand closed around Naruto's hand. This surprised him, because he had no clear recollection of having put it out to greet him. He looked down, as though in need of confirmation, and saw their hands locked together.
He said, "How nice to meet you."
------
They ate dinner indoors, sitting around the scrubbed, candlelit table. For the occasion, Gaara's maid Ten Ten had come in to cook one of her famous paellas, and there was rough, homemade bread, and huge wooden bowls of salads, and bottles of local wine. After the paella, Ten Ten produced dishes of fresh fruit, goat's cheese, and tiny bowls of crystallised grapes.
All through dinnes conversation bubbled, but Naruto said little, content to listen and observe.
At the end of the meal Neji smiled. "Let's take coffee out on to the terrace."
Naruto found himself next to Sasuke, this dark young man, handsome, quite tall, compelling in an inexplicable way, and possessed of the most charming voice. At dinner he had told them little of himself. Kakashi had accused him of havin a wife and brood of children but he assured them that there was no wife and family he knew of, and one's own company could sometimes be the best.
"How long are you here for?" Naruto asked him now, stirring his coffee and not looking into Sasuke's face.
"Only a week"
"You must be a busy man. Where do you work?"
"I'm working in Paris just now."
"What do you do all day here?"
"Swim. Sit around. Paint."
"Paint?"
He smiled. "Not walls. Pictures. I started painting about a year ago. It's wonderful therapy."
For some reason, Naruto couldn't think of nothing to say.
The Hatakes decided that it was time they left. Iruka shaked Gaara's hand. "A perfect evening. When will you bring Naruto to us . . . and Sasuke as well, if he'd like to come? We long to show you our little house."
A date was fixed for the following evening.
"We'll give you a drink," said Kakashi, "and take you out for dinner at our local. They serve the best fresh fish in the world there."
Sasuke set down his empty coffee cup and said that he, too, must take himself off. "We'll be in touch," Gaara told him. "We'll give you a lift to the Hatakes tomorrow."
"That's very kind."
Smiling, appreciative, he went from them the way he had come, down the steps, and along the edge of the swimming-pool. As he disappeared into the velvet drakness beyond the stone boy and was lost to them in the groves of almonds, Gaara turned and began to stack the coffee cups.
"A nice man," he said.
"Yes, and a heavenly evening. Thank you very much."
Gaara straightened, his eyes met Naruto's own. "I said, a nice man," he repeated.
"Of course. Delightful."
-----
Cocks crowing and the discordant clamour of goat bells awakened him. Early. So early after a late night. Naruto reached for his watch, and saw that it was only quarter-past seven. "I should go back to sleep," he told himself, and was instantly wide awake, knowing that he must be up and about, out of doors in the pearly cool of a new day.
Five minutes later, he was standing beside the swimming-pool, putting aside the towel. He poised and dived, shattering the surface of the water like broken glass. He swam a length and then another, back to the shallow end. He stood, shaking the water from his face and hair. A voice said, "Good morning."
He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, to stand by the stone boy and observe Naruto. He wore a pair of swimming shorts and his bare feet were thrust into leather sandals.
When he stood beside him in the water, Naruto saw the neat strength in his body, the hard muscles beneath the pale skin, the very blackness of his eyes, spiked with wet lashes.
"That was a good party last night."
"Yes."
"Are the others up yet?"
"I don't think so."
"Come with me, and I'll give you breakfast. Fresh melon and boiled eggs. The sun's on my terrace, and everything's smothered in bougainvillaea." When he hesitated, he went on, coaxing, practically bribing Naruto to come with him. "Black coffee, as much as you can drink. Fresh bread and orange blossom honey. No man could want more than that."
"You don't need to get carried away. You're only asking me to breakfast."
"Then you'll come.
He swam away from Sasuke. "Yes, I'll come."
A little later, when they had finished swimming, Naruto followed him down the narrow stony track which wound beneath the almond trees. They crossed the road, then went through the gate and into the tiny garden of the Casita. The bougainvillaea was indeed a sight, covering the terrace, and clambering up on the red-tiled roof of the single storied house.
"Come and see inside."
The door was open, but hung with a brightly coloured bead curtain. He lifted this, stood aside, and Naruto went ahead of him.
He said, "I'll make coffee," and went to fill the kettle.
The simple room was starkly shipshape, and he saw that Sasuke had already made his made. There was a small tableby this, with a lamp and a pile of paperbacks, and a photograph in a leather frame. A photograph of a boy with fair hair and sky blue eyes, a boy laughing, his expression one of amusement and affection. A happy boy. Himself.
He felt, quite suddenly, haken and shocked. He knew that he wasn't married, because he had told them so last night, but he never expected that Sasuke would still keep his photograph, take it wherever h went, kept it by his bed. The beat of his heartwas all at once so strong that he was certain Sasuke must be able to hear it.
Trembling, his knees weak, he went across the room, meaning perhaps to take the photograph from the table, but his legs suddenly felt wobly and he ended up sitting on the edge of the bed.
It was Sasuke who finally broke the laden silence.
He said, "It goes everywhere with me. Has done ever since you said goodbye and refused to see me again. I wanted you to see it. I wanted you to know."
"I thought you'd be marrie by now."
"On the rebound from you?"
"No. I hoped, in love."
"I thought the same about you. Did you never find what you were looking for?"
"I think I stopped looking for it. How long did you stay in America?"
"About eighteen months. Then I got this contract with a French magazine. That's why I'm living in Paris."
"You're happy? I wanted you to be happy."
"Pity you weren't prepared to take the responsibility yourself."
"That's not fair."
"Why didn't you answer my letter?"
"I nearly did. I started to write, but I couldn't think of the right words, so I tore it up and threw it away. It wasn't any good. I knew too much about you."
"I don't think you knew anything about me."
"And I hated that something in myself which wouldn't let you go. I seemed to want all of you for myself. Possessiveness smothers. I didn't want to smother you, Sasuke."
"The truth is, you didn't trust me."
"No." It was a horrible thing to have to say.
"What didn't you trust?" He abandoned the cooker and crossed the room to sit beside her. "id you think everytime I left you I would start some new relationship? Or did you think I mightn't come back?"
"I suppose I . . ." He felt as though he were digging for the truth. "I couldn't imagine any man not - wanting you. The way I wanted you."
He shook his head. "Luckily for all of us, we don't stimulate the same reactions in every new person we meet. Otherwise the world would be in a sorry mess." He smiled. "Naruto," he told him, "we'd have made a great team."
"I'd have made you miserable."
"I'd rather be miserable with you than miserable without you."
Ridiculosly, his eyes filled with tears. Two years ago he had turned his back on Sasuke, but he was still the most atractive man he had ever know. Nothing had changed.
"How - how did you know I'd be here?" he managed at last. "It couldn't have been a coincidence. That only happen in films!"
He smiled his gentle, caressing smile. "Remember those friends Gaara introduced me to at a party in London? Well, I contacted them and they gave me Gaara's adress here. I wrote. I didn't expect him to reply, but he did. He told me you were coming to stay and would I like to rent the Casita. He was surprisingly sympathetic."
Gaara would be! Suddenly Naruto remembered his friend's emphasis on 'a nice man' last night, the look in his eyes. He had known all along . . .
"I never stopped loving you." Sasuke was saying.
A whistling sound came from the direction of the cooker. They both ignored it. Naruto said, "I can see clearly now. And, like you, I think I'd rather be miserable with you than miserable without you."
"We won't be miserable. We'll be blissful. It would be foolish to pass up this second chance. What do you say, Naruto? Shall we grab it, with both hands?"
"Like it was happening for the first time. No commitments. No promised."
"An open-ended agreement."
Solemnly they shook hands on it. He said, "Do you know something?"
"Yes." He put a hand on either side of Naruto's head, drew his face towards his, and began to kiss him. "The kettle's boiling."
Oh, well, hope you like it 3. R&R and remember: NO FLAMES, OR I'LL CHASE YOU DOWN WITH BARNEY!