Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Sunlight bleached wooden floorboards and briefly transformed dust motes into golden flecks of energy. It fell on the corner of the guitar, bounced off of the brass wires. Rumpled bed sheets seemed stale, and summer had reached long fingers into the room, making it stuffy but not uncomfortable. A thumb brushed the pages of a paperback book, watched as more golden flecks rose into the air.
His other thumb brushed the paler one that belonged to the hand encased in his. They were silent. The quiet was heavy and textured, made up of kids in the street shouting and laughing as they played football, of mums and dads drinking wine and eating barbequed food, of cars full of people heading to the seaside, an hour away but just a second from their minds. Old songs played on the CD players, trickled into the room with muffled melodies and muted lyrics.
When he spoke, he was careful not to move his mouth too much. " We'll leave this all soon." He sounded like he was speaking through cotton wool, but any more movement and his split lip would burst open again. And Sasuke would lick it, kiss it better, but couldn't heal the shame.
" And go where?" It wasn't shooting him down, it was an honest question, and Naruto knew this. He always knew.
" Hunstanton. Live in one of those little wooden shacks down by the beachside." He was smiling when he said it, softly and small.
" Yeah? Catch fish with our hands and go cockling in autumn?" He could tell the other boy was smiling too, didn't need to look at him.
" Yeah. Eat baked beans from the pot because we don't have a cooker."
" And have bonfires on the beach and sing old songs about love, and the Queen, and how no one's gonna stop us." He shifted and the rasp of denim on denim was numbed.
" Heh. Yeah. And then one day we'll leave that too, after I've got enough material for an album and you've written my book. And then we'll go to London and I'll busk in the train stations until we have enough money for an apartment." His eyes were wide, with warmth and the belief that this would never end coupled with the realism that it could, it would, and oh god, please, no.
" And sleep in toilets 'til then."
" Using toilet paper as a blanket." They laughed, soft and summery, and he felt something swell in his stomach. " And then your book will hit the best seller list."
" Number one." Naruto grinned, a chuckle whispering across his lips. " And your album will be big in England, America and...Yugoslavia. And Scotland will make a special one, with bagpipes." Naruto laughed, holding tears back. The blood trickled down his chin, and Sasuke curled into his side, licked it up and kissed him soundly. Solidly. He clung to the realism in the realm of daydreams.
" And we'll be pursued by the press everywhere we go. And people will hate us, and we'll fly espeically to all the Gay Pride Parades -" Sasuke laughed, and it vibrated on Naruto's chest, " - And we'll always wear one, on our ankle, or our wrist, or our neck."
" A ribbon?"
" Yeah."
There was silence again, and Naruto traced patterns with callused fingers on Sasuke's wrist, amazed at the blue veins, the fragile system, and the pulse he could feel. Real. He listened as the sound of Sasuke's heartbeat weaved itself into the soundtrack, closed his eyes and tried to swallow the lump in his throat away. When Sasuke spoke, it took Naruto by surprise.
" I think...I think, we'll be here forever. In a room with sunlight and a guitar and a notebook and a bed with rumpled sheets. And you'll always have bed hair and I'll always try to pet it down - " And he did so, a smile on his lips, his eyes not catching Naruto's. " - and you'll always watch me when I do. And we'll always make lists, to run, to escape, to write books and make songs and..." He sighed, something thick in his throat too. " And you'll always have rough fingertips and I'll always say silly things, and we'll always...we'll always have the daydreams."
A kid started crying outside, and Naruto stared at the ceiling. It was patterned in whorls of some weird white plaster that left tiny points all along, like tiny staglamites. He traced the patterns, became dizzy. He couldn't see Sasuke, but, just out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sasuke's hair against his rumpled blue t-shirt, and the fingers with the bitten nails tracing a pattern on his stomach.
Naruto smiled. And the sunlight turned to dusky orange, and the dust motes burned bright for a few seconds or so, and the boys lay on the floor, breathing in tandem.
A/N: Listen to Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly and their song 'Find the Time'. And then remember the lazy summer afternoons and all the promises to do silly, incredible things, that you'll never ever realise.
