It was a long standing tradition that the head of the Uchiha family hosted all holiday celebrations.
For all of Sasuke's life, every Christmas, Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, and all the rest were spent in the luxury of his grandfather's thousand-acre vineyard. After dedicating half his long life to the family's multi-million corporation, he'd taken up the hobby of wine making-as a pastime that just so happened to collect even more revenue for the weathered, wrinkled old man.
That's how Sasuke saw his father's dad. Not as a grandfather, but as the man he was supposed to live up to, impress, and imitate word for word. He was tall, but hunched, with skin darker than it used to be from all the time he'd spent with his lovely, perfect grapes. Usually, he smelled of leather and Clive Christian cologne. Sometimes he smelled like tobacco, when he decided that one pipe full didn't really count as breaking his twenty-year record of not smoking. He never did any of the things a grandfather was supposed to do, like teach Sasuke how to fish or take him camping or any of the fun things people at school talked about. No, Sasuke's grandfather was the most self-important, impersonal, pretentious bastard in the entire Uchiha family.
And that was quite the feat.
No doubt, the old man was proud of his accomplishment nonetheless, for an Uchiha wasn't a real Uchiha unless he was the best at everything, and Sasuke was perfectly content if that made him and the rest of his insufferable family nothing more than a bunch of fake Uchihas. So long as the prick was telling someone else how much they sucked at life, Sasuke was more than happy to sit in the shadows and be a failure. On more than one occasion had he nearly lost his temper because of his grandfather, but to raise his voice in an unmannerly fashion, especially to an elder, would be a crime deserving of such punishment even he had been able to hold his tongue thus far.
So around the time winter winds began rolling around, Sasuke began to fortify his nerves for a whole two months of visits to California, where family time was anything but warm and sunny. It was all tradition for the sake of the family photo, and it simply nauseated Sasuke. He'd rather stay at home for the holidays, while his parents and brother went to visit and play their Uchiha game of smiles, two-faced comments, and obsessive rivalry. He'd order Chinese food and play video games until they got back. He wouldn't even ask for presents. Not that there was anything he didn't already have after all.
But to suggest such a thing would be suicide. Thanksgiving came and went without much fuss-it was only a one-day affair of course. Mere preparation for the biggest and baddest holiday of them all. By December, Sasuke felt almost ready. His stone poker face was newly practiced and he'd gone through his dictionary a couple extra times to fill his memory with more of what his father called proper English-although Sasuke still thought words like "perfidiousness" and "gasconading" were, while both more than appropriate to use in any conversation concerning Uchihas, absolutely absurd.
The day school got out on December 20th, Sasuke's dad rounded them and their luggage into the family car-in other words, the embarrassingly luxurious first-class limousine his family insisted simply must be used for travel-and had them heading for California not an hour after winter break had begun.
They would have been able to go sooner had Sasuke's break not started so late, and everyone seemed dead set on blaming him for the delay. Itachi had gotten out of school nearly a week ago, since he'd finished all his exams early, and while Sasuke tried to explain that he didn't exactly have the luxury of finishing the semester as he pleased, his dad wouldn't let it go.
"My brother and cousins arrived days ago," he scoffed as he checked his watch for the thousandth time since their hurried departure. "We'll be the last to arrive, and father will never let me here the end of it."
That is a genetic quality, you know.
Sasuke bit his tongue.
"Why does your high school insist on letting you out so late anyway?" Fugaku snapped, tugging the sleeves of his suit into place and brushing invisible dust from his collar. "You'd think they might make an exception. Itachi's school was more than willing to oblige us."
Well Itachi goes to Yale and I'm stuck at a private high school where the headmistress deals with stuck-up, pompous, arrogant assholes who think their money can dictate state policy every day. Next time, I'll write a strongly worded letter.
"I'm sorry," he said again, for the millionth time since the unfortunate date had been revealed. Not with a huff or a role of the eyes or anything remotely resembling an attitude. Or normal human behavior. Uchihas were perfectly proper and polite. About everything.
Except disappointing sons. That they could be total dicks about.
It only took an hour and a half to arrive, though, so the journey was more tolerable than some of the trips Sasuke had been forced to take with his father. His mother and brother were silent for the most part as Fugaku continued to reprimand Sasuke about his school's inexcusable behavior. Sasuke didn't mind them as much. His mother was quietly, timidly encouraging, but backed up his father by the end of it all. And his brother was a rock to lean on when no one was looking. He just still let it happen. But he, Sasuke supposed, had no more power in this ass backwards family than anyone else.
He exited the car last once they'd arrived, right after Itachi. The estate was a prim and pristine as it ever was, and as Sasuke contemplated just how many obnoxious words describing his family started with the letter "p", he followed his family up the stairs and through the front doors.
The foyer was large, bright, and mostly empty, exhibiting a few pieces of priceless furniture, a mini-gallery of gorgeous art, fresh-picked floral arrangements, and a marble grand staircase equipped with gold-plated handrails. Immediately, they were welcomed by the butler, who escorted them grim-faced as always to the parlor, which was currently packed with people Sasuke hated.
It was easy enough to avoid the onslaught of greetings by keeping hidden behind Itachi's taller, more muscular body. Aside from being bigger in general, Itachi simply had a presence that enraptured everyone around him. In this family, disliking Itachi Uchiha basically meant you were demon spawn. Even Sasuke adored him in secret.
"Ah, so my oldest son has finally joined us," Hiroto Uchiha greeted as he hobbled forward. The man had an ego the size of his home state, but age had taken its toll on the elderly business man. He clasped Fugaku's hand firmly, black eyes gleaming beneath his fraying grey hair. "Though late, I am glad you are here, my boy. We have much to discuss. And much to celebrate!"
This he addressed to the rest of the crowd, most of which looked on anyway with politely curious and insatiably jealous eyes-eyes black and cold and identical to every other pair in that room. With a grin, Hiroto raised his champagne glass and nodded to his oldest-and his favorite. Fugaku delicately removed a glass from the silver tray quickly offered to him by one of the three or four servants who drifted skillfully through the mass of beautiful Uchihas. He returned his father's smile and raised his glass, as did the rest of the family. Sasuke soon found himself doing the same thing.
"To a new year!" his grandfather toasted, and the rest of them responded in a joyous chorus. Sasuke tipped the sweet alcohol past his lips as the rest of the family went up in a buzz of conversation again. After another moment or two, he emptied the glass down his throat. It went down easy. The more numb he was the better.
He managed to hang in there for about an hour. Mingling was never his forte, and hiding in his brother's shadow, while strategic, could only last for so long. After being mercilessly interrogated about his progress in school, his plans for the future, how he was keeping up with the family business, and such and such, he excused himself gracefully with the excuse of needing a trip to the restroom.
Which wasn't even a lie. He'd had so much champagne since arriving, not only was he in desperate need of the lavatory, but he wasn't quite so steady on his feet anymore and his ears and skull were filled with a constant, noiseless buzz. Not a good combination of ailments given the circumstances.
Sasuke went for the long way, passing by his grandfather's office and library, the kitchen and dining room, and many perfectly usable restrooms in opt for the toilet located on the farthest side of the building. Holding in his piss was well worth the quiet he damn well deserved. After relieving himself, he splashed his face with cold water and stared his reflection in the eye until he absolutely had to blink. Dark eyes, dark hair, fair skin, pretty features-just like every one of his relatives. There was no personality, no individuality in this family. You were a clone and did just like everyone else. Or bye-bye inheritance.
"What a shame it'll be when I don't even care about that anymore," he muttered softly. The Uchiha name and everything it implied was slowly sucking the life out of him. One day, even the promise of eternal financial security wouldn't be enough to make all this worth it.
Sucking in a breath, he washed his face once more, relishing in the iciness before patting his cheeks dry and stepping out of the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, turning to head down the hallway as he fiddled with the sleeves of his fifteen hundred dollar Giorgio Armani suit. His seventeenth birthday present.
He was not expecting to run face first into a walking wall.
"Shit," he cursed, as said obstacle rammed into him, knocking them both off balance, and the silver tray of food crashing to the floor. Sasuke was quick to follow, but caught himself on the bathroom door handle before he landed in the succulent feast of plum pudding, grilled zucchini, and slow-roasted turkey breast. As he recovered, he stared at the ruined meal, registering it as his grandmother's favorites.
Unlike the rest of the family, Sasuke's grandmother was a delight. She had once upon a time been meek and modest, like Mikoto, Sasuke's own mother. But age had dwindled her mind to a younger version of the proper lady Hiroto had married. She was cheeky and witty and not at all Uchiha-like, but her body was failing her and she spent most of her time sleeping in bed. On most visits, Sasuke would spend as much time with her as he could while she was awake, and even coaxed the servants into helping her onto the back patio for some fresh air. She loved that. She really smiled when they sat outside and enjoyed the breeze and the view and the clear blue sky.
Sasuke raised his gaze to the servant he'd run into.
"I'm so, so sorry, sir," he was rambling, righting himself from where he'd fallen against the opposite wall. He didn't even look up, face ablaze with a ferocious blush, as he pulled out the clean hand towel from his belt-the trademark of every servant at work in an Uchiha manor-with trembling fingers and went to dab at Sasuke's chest. Sasuke's first instinct was to back away, but he refrained, frozen, as the young servant boy attempted to clean the smear of food that prior to that moment, Sasuke had even failed to notice. "I had no idea anyone would even be in this wing, since Hiroto had the west wing parlor prepared. I wasn't paying attention and didn't even see you, sir. I'm so sorry. I was just delivering Kiyomi her evening meal and I just…"
Sasuke stopped listening midway through the boy's apologetic rant, and instead began to stare. Usually, his grandfather hired older gentlemen or younger women, but rarely such a…handsome young man. He was probably an inch taller than Sasuke, with looks faintly reminiscent of what Sasuke might call a modern Achilles. The boy was not without his fair share of muscle from the looks of the way his servant's uniform fit him, and he had the classic look of a Californian beach god. All sun-kissed skin and hair bleached golden. And eyes as blue as the sea.
"Your eyes are my grandmother's favorite color," Sasuke murmured, as the boy turned his attention to the white shirt beneath the suit jacket. It had taken most of the hit, since Sasuke had unbuttoned his suit while in the bathroom, thinking it might help him breathe a little easier. His words-or possibly the fact that he'd spoken at all-shocked the boy into looking straight up at him. And if the sheer depth and beauty of those eyes did not steal his soul right then and there… Sasuke opened his mouth, but he couldn't find his words until his fingers had found the boy's cheek. "Not just blue…but…the perfect shade of blue. The…epitome of blue. Not too eerily light or…lost in darkness…but just…just right. That clear, perfect azure…the blue painter's paint with…the blue blind men dream of…"
He didn't know why he was saying what he was saying, but the words were tumbling out of his mouth as quickly as his heart raced in his throat. And every beat meant another word, another caress just under those wide, stunned, gorgeous blue eyes. Slowly, he wet his lips, both nervous and assured of his decision.
"Do you…know who I am?" he asked in a whisper, each innocent word weighted heavily with desire. The boy opened his mouth, curved lips trembling as he sought an answer. Sasuke could see him wracking his brain, trying to recover, still half-kneeling in front of his master's grandson, cloth pressed gently to his abdomen. Sasuke urged him with his eyes. "Do you?"
"You are…Sasuke Uchiha," the boy finally said, swallowing hard and looking as unsure of himself as Sasuke had felt every day of his life in this house. "You're Hiroto's…youngest grandson."
"I am," he said softly, cupping his hand around the boy's neck. His brain was humming and his heart pattering and his blood felt warm beneath his skin. "And who are you?"
"I…I'm Naruto," he replied, and Sasuke noted the hesitant flutter of his lashes as Sasuke squeezed ever lightly at the top of his spine. "I'm just a servant."
"You are utterly divine," Sasuke amended, and then closed the space between their mouths.
Sasuke had not kissed many people in his life, out of both caution and disinterest more than any other reason one could muster. But he'd had his share of it to know he was good at it. One of those Uchiha things, he supposed.
But this kiss was something else. It was slow and exploratory and deep, and something that stirred a tickling heat in his core. Naruto was still beneath him, in shock, but his lips had parted to Sasuke's kiss nonetheless and their mouths were a perfect fit. And with his hand where it was on his neck, moving was not an option for Naruto. Sasuke broke the kiss by a millimeter's breath, only to nudge encouragingly with his lips and tongue, prying the boy to relax and return his favor. And he did. For a single moment so beautiful, so lovely, so right, Naruto pressed upward, his taste like peaches, his smell like musk, and in that moment, Sasuke fell head over heels for the blonde servant boy.
But it was just a moment.
"Sir!" Naruto exclaimed, yanking his own body away with such force, Sasuke nearly toppled over him. Righting himself, he turned his attention to Naruto, whose face was once more red as cherries. He was already re-directing his task to the mess he'd made after spilling Kiyomi's meal. "I apologize, sir. I really must get this back to the kitchen so they can fix the lady another plate. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, sir…"
He continued this self-conscious, nervous rambling until he'd collected all he could onto the plate, his hands covered in pudding and seasoning. He didn't even look up as he muttered another apology, turned on his heel, and rushed down the hall. Away from Sasuke. Away from the kiss.
The kiss Sasuke couldn't stop licking from his lips. It had tasted so delicious…so right…had felt so…as close to heavenly as Sasuke could imagine. Touching his lip briefly, Sasuke stood straight, buttoned his jacket to hide the most of the unsightly stain, and made his way down the hallway as well, his focus on nothing but the tingle that lingered from Naruto's touch. He knew, as he joined the party in the parlor once more, that he would not be able to forget such a moment. Such a person as Naruto.
And if he knew anything, it was that Christmas vacation had just gotten ten times more interesting.
Hello, lovelies. I know it takes forever for me to post things, but when you have a million and one things going on, writing fanfictions sometimes takes a back seat, you know? I wish it didn't, but alas. I don't make the rules.
Anyway, this is going to be my first attempt at a SasukeXNaruto chapter fanfiction. I really wanted to write something for the New Year, and I guess this came to me last minute - and only because I forced it out. I can't guarantee a work of art, but hopefully it'll be worth reading. First chapter's a little short. Lately, I've gotten annoyed with 10,000 word chapters that have so much detail that I get lost and bored before the good stuff happens. Detail is good, but I guess I go through moods and phases with writing like I do with everything else, and right now, I'm going for short and sweet. Perhaps that will change as the story develops?
For those curious, my holidays have been fantastic. My amazing boyfriend (of five months on the sixth) visited me on Christmas and stayed with me through the end of the week. I dorm at my college, so I was required to go home for a whole month, so I was very ecstatic to see him (and the key-shaped white-gold and diamond necklace he bought me for Christmas from Kay *squeal*, haha). He's become something like my best friend, but even better than that, and so he's given me much to think about and many new experiences to write about. Hopefully, one day, I'll get all the things he's given me on paper so you all can enjoy his awesomeness too, hehehe. :3
Anywho, I hope this hooked you. I'm also trying to wrap up Birth so I can go ahead and get that one under my belt. Inferno Princess may be slower in coming, but it definitely is coming. I hope all of you had a great Christmas (or whatever holiday you celebrate!) and a Happy New Year! 3
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