My first attempt at a story, hence i think i have to write a disclaimer of some sorts. Naruto don't belong to me, otherwise it would be called Sasuke.
The story will gradually progress as Naruto and Sasuke's relationship become closer, of course poor Hinata would be in the picture as well. Just to let you know, no Hinata bashing in future chapters! But i do expect the fic to become darker as it goes. This means YAOI = BOYxBOY LOVE. Just in case you're uncomfortable.
do R&R if you like it, i love ego-boosts and that means inspiration boost as well :)
-I painted the last stroke on my canvas and with a satisfied sigh, laid it on its smooth wooden holder. It was a painting of a garden, splashes of colours in deep hues of green, golden and violet. I felt such ease every time I picked up my paint brush and the world seems to be in my control – I dictate the direction, I choose the colours. This is my world.
Wait, maybe I should start with a self introduction.
My name is Uchiha Sasuke, penniless tortured artist. Well, definitely penniless. Turning 20 this July, I'm a fresh graduate from the Konoha School of Arts. Ever since I forsaken my father's will for me to join my elder brother in becoming puppets for him to manipulate and expand his business empire, I have more or less been 'orphaned' in a way. Not that I mind entirely… Home was not a beautiful place for me but let's not get there now. Right here, in this dingy little apartment, cramped with hundreds of paintings, papers and books, smelling like an ensemble of paint fumes and musky cologne, was undeniably me. Along with my roommates Hyuuga Neji and Nara Shikamaru, we three make the best of our little nest and may I say, it is actually quite a cozy place.
Hyuuga Neji; nephew of the investment mogul Hyuuga Hiashi. Self-proclaimed to be more tortured than I am, he is on his way in trying to be a richer and more influential investor than his uncle because he was supposedly treated unfairly in the Hyuuga household ever since his parents died. Keyword here: trying to be.
Nara Shikamaru. Two words: lazy ass. The end.
Alright, Shikamaru is actually a accountant for some big-shot firm. How someone who rather watch shiting birds and interpret shapes of clouds ever became an accountant is way beyond me.
It was about 10pm now, time for me to head to my... nightly job. My first love right now is not of 'self-sufficing' state yet but as life goes, the bills come. Despite the fact that my two roommates did offer to chim in more money to pay our bills every month, I wouldn't allow that. Relying on others is not in my blood, I hate to become dependent because it makes me feel vulnerable if the said person leaves me.
It makes me feel like a burden, emotional baggage and all.
Pulling on my leather pants and a ripped Guns N Roses tight fitting tee, I slipped on my worn black boots and studded cuffs, something I never left the house with. The cuffs covered the cuts on my wrist, a result of my younger tumultuous behavior. They grew fainter with time but they will always be there… like a mockery to myself that I want to hide. Shaking away my thoughts, I climbed onto my baby – a sleek black Honda CBR bike – and sped to my workplace, Contraband. I work as a bartender over there. It was a small bar in a somewhat lewd area and so needless to say, you get to meet all sorts of people. Did I also mention that it is a gay bar, and that I am as straight as a boomerang?
Don't judge me, enough people do that already. Like my father.
As I stepped into the bar, the immediate blast of music met my ears and a heavy curtain of alcohol and smoke invaded my nostrils. I was so used to this place, having worked here for the past year, it was almost like a second home to me. Men from all walks of life gather here. Be it the openly flamboyant gays dressed in fluorescent pink leggings, or the closet gays in their jeans and sheepish smiles, you see it all here. I slid up to the bar counter and gave my co-bartender a friendly punch on the back. His name is Suigetsu and with his long silver hair in deep contrast with my obsidian locks, both of us were pretty popular choices for the countless of lusty men to pick up. Suigetsu, that little man-whore, loves sucking up every bit of that attention. No pun intended there. Well as for me, I actually retain some standards.
I sprang to work quickly – the orders of kept coming in as the bar began to fill up. Gin, Tonic, Vodka, Rum and Whiskey were tossed into mountains of cups and shots as the intoxicated men gulped them down like there will be no tomorrow. That is exactly what I love about the night scene; you get high and drunk, the alcohol gives you courage to do things you never would have done sober and you just forget your worries, even if it is temporary. Tons of heartbroken and distressed people come to drown their sorrows and start hurling sob stories to me and Suigetsu.
But tonight, it was a little interesting.
I knew it was going to be different the moment I caught side of a head of unruly blonde mess that was just begging to be ruffled. The blonde stepped in cautiously, his eyes darting from side to side as if he was afraid of bumping into familiar faces. As he moved hesitantly through the crowd and towards the bar, I took note of his crisp business suit and polished leather shoes. Certainly not the usual outfit I see people around here donning but I must admit this is one tasty piece of man-meat. That tailored suit is practically pleading to be ripped open. He looked up and for that instance, azure met onyx.
I smirked. And he blushed.
Now, did I say this was going to be a interesting night?