A/N: Yes. Another one-shot. Slightly altered from what I'd written on paper. Those two can't NOT fight…
Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, it probably wouldn't be showed on American television. (It would be too gay.)
They ran jumped, punched, kicked, hit, stabbed, blocked, dodged, and threw, with an unrivaled fervor and energy. It was a mysterious dance; the steps known only by the two of them, done to a song only the two of them heard. It was powerful; dangerous and beautiful.
They went from attacking from a distance avoiding all physical contact in anyway, to ceasing any use of weapons, their fists and feet meeting in a glorious clash. Leaning in and out from each other their bodies moved in perfect time. His jacket came off, revealing a black undershirt beneath. Not stopping he continued his bodily assault on the other. The other dodged, ducked and blocked, twisted and turned; defensive. His black eyes watched with a hawk's gaze, his body moving, knowing with bizarre precision where the next blow was aimed.
With amazing swiftness, the offensive and defensive would switch; a new type of battle was set to begin. Catching one fist then another, moving forward pushing the other back.
Eyes locked, a mental battle, willing the other to give in. Neither backing down. The taller of the two with a burst of brute strength pushed the smaller against a tree. They were both breathless from the exercise.
Holding both wrists in one hand the moodier, angrier of the two moved his head forward; slowly. He brought his face closer to the other's until they were but mere inches from touching cheek to cheek. Suddenly he hung his head his forehead almost touching the tree behind the blond.
His head shot up. Staring hard at the boy against the tree, angrily, possessively, his gaze daring the other to defy him.
The shorter of the two leaned forward a fraction and placed his lips on those of the taller. His eyes closed slightly; relishing the feel of the other's lips on his own. The other stiffened and then visibly relaxed, his grip on the wrists of the smaller boy loosening.
The blond taking advantage of the other's guard being down, pulled his hand free and placing them on the chest and shoulders of his opponent pushed him over onto the ground. Landing on top of him he quickly straddled the raven-headed boy's hips. He brought his lips down to meet the other's harshly, the same battle as before in another form. Dominance.
Lips met lips, tongue met tongue, teeth met flesh. In one swift movement the blond found himself with his back against the dirt and his opponent over him, but he didn't mind. He relished in the feel of the obsidian locks sliding through his fingers, and the warmth emanating from the other's body.
Soon enough another battle would take place, later today, tomorrow, next week. Forever. It was a certainty in a world were deception was a part of daily life. Nothing was meant to disturb this equilibrium.