Better Than Me
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.
Summary: Sometimes it's necessary the hurt the ones you love, in order to protect them.
I'm nervous about this – incredibly. I think I'll pin this down as one of the hardest and most demanding pieces I ever had to write. It killed quite a couple of braincells (what this proves, I don't know-- decide for yourself).
All criticism accepted.
Ring, ring clirr the obscene sound resonated through the bedroom, making the rickety, badly positioned table shake a little. The alarm clock, rusty and of a mathematically disfigured shape, rocketed and clanged merrily on the table, sounding so much like banging pots and sticks being pounded against a floor that it made Naruto's head ache even more.
This was -- in no way -- an agreeable circumstance to get up in the morning, unless one had the patience and disposition of a saint. Naruto definitely did not possess saintly patience; he was less of a saint than a rat was a cat.
The individual beside him, didn't even stir and Naruto asked himself whether that person had been blessed with the ears of a corpse and the impenetrability of a rock. He didn't seem to hear a damned thing, though the clock was violently ringing throughout the entire room. Well, enough was enough. Naruto couldn't stand it; it was too much to impose upon a sleep-bereft man working hard to earn his living and -- to hell with it all -- he deserved to have some moment's rest.
Ring-a-ring- a ring , the daft thing went again and, this time, a bang of a fist – an ear-cracking and bone-breaking crunch – put an end to its solitary, appalling music-making. In a swift second, the alarm clock was no more and what had once been solid, was now a shattered, pitiable mess of screws and debris of a former clockwork machinery -- whatever, they could always buy a new one.
"Damn, that cursed alarm clock..." Naruto's gruff voice commented angrily, still hoarse from sleep; it was so rough and scratchy in its inflection that a croaking frog could not have done these qualities more justice.
The rays of light just breaking in, slowly penetrated through the glass of the windows and, banishing the shadows from their resting place, brought a soft, genteelly tentative illumination in the room; it was a greyish-light blue, with sparks and specks of everything else mixed into it and these rendered the room pleasant and homely to the sight again. Before Naruto's eyes, the sheets of the bed were once again white, the drawers and shelves that comforting mixture of beige-brown and the neatness of the room was restored in all its former glory.
Naruto, however, groaned and bobbing his head from one side to the other, stretched his arms and tried to animate his idle limbs into motion; he really did hate waking up in the morning. This disinclination, contrary to the restless ambition of his childhood days, was something he blamed on his former teacher Kakashi who had taught him that tardiness wasn't necessarily unproductive – it helped keeping one reasonably jolly and calm, it seemed.
Also, as of late, he just couldn't shake off that feeling of tiredness; it haunted him like a ghoul and made him even more unwilling to rise.
He felt groggy, his mind hazy and the muscles in his body were still averse to moving. There was no way around it though – he had to get up. However, as much as he tried to move, the warm, slightly hairy and undeniably masculine legs next to were in the way – and simply pushing Sasuke off wasn't an option.
"Damn, Sasuke ... can you shift a little?"
At first no one answered him and Naruto could only feel the warmth of the other's body -- it was so warm that Naruto nearly felt jealous, not looking forward to the chilly coldness of the weather outside. Lost in that moment of comforting familiarity and indulgent laziness, Naruto found himself touching Sasuke's hair; his fingers kneaded the soft, black locks and it surprised him that someone as strong and potentially dangerous as Sasuke could have fine, silky hair. Perhaps, it was a conspiracy of nature's or a fancy of evolution's: it could be that Sasuke's beauty was misleading and a trap to fool enemies into underestimating him. Whatever it was, Sasuke was gorgeous.
Damn, Naruto realised that he was really turning into a smitten, lovesick fool; however, he couldn't help himself – that, as his brain-fogged tiredness admitted, was the glory of love.
"Sasuke," he whispered softly, pronouncing the name like it was sacred – which to him it was.
This time Sasuke moved a little, but instead of opening his eyes, edged closer towards Naruto and – strangely touchy-feely in his sleep – practically laid his head on Naruto's chest; the situation was slowly getting out of hand, but Naruto didn't mind. The weight was welcome to him and he felt tingles of warmth and excitement rush through his body; this was nice and made him feel like belonging. Before Sasuke – hell Team 7 – Naruto had never belonged anywhere.
He didn't remove his hand from Sasuke's hair, but traced a fine line down the sleeping man's cheek which was also soft to the touch. It wasn't babyish soft, though – his skin was too marked with small scars and calloused to be that soft.
"Damn you," he said, though no there was no trace of anger in his voice; Naruto was merely amused.
This time, however, the action had consequences and Sasuke, who wasn't quite as oblivious as he seemed to be, had woken up and was less than pleased. After having gingerly freed himself from their awkward position, Sasuke stretched his limbs like a cat and stared at Naruto's gleeful face, wondering what the hell amused him that much. Moreover, Sasuke was asking himself why that no good slacker was still in bed with him when he was supposed to be engaged otherwise. As much as he liked the attention – Sasuke wasn't one to be ungrateful – he didn't want Naruto to lose his job for such a silly reason.
"Naruto...," he started, his voice sounding very much like a growl,"Why are you still in bed?"
"I wanted to get up, but you wouldn't let go of me...because I'm so super sexy and awesome," Naruto answered smugly, doing himself proud. He was allowed to tease the bastard every now and then. The trickster nature of his needed a little thrill from time to time: it was horrorshow – wonderfully entertaining -- to rile up his prissy lover and, besides, he loved watching Sasuke's mask crumbling off to bits and pieces, like old chunks of cheese. He knew that Sasuke wasn't as emotionless as he pretended to be; he knew very well that underneath that perfect façade of placid coolness was a being as stubborn, passionate and determined as himself. No, this didn't mean that they were the same, but – somehow – they weren't total polar opposites, either.
Sasuke, less than pleased, by that childish answer and Naruto's inexplicable glee over overpowering him, felt the need to utter an offensive retort in order to re-establish his dignity; he couldn't just allow Naruto to get away with everything. Besides, it was fun to get back at him.
"You total-"
Before Sasuke could even put his indignation into words, lips – warm, chaffed and soft – had silenced him, blasted any reason he might have possessed into bits and pieces; Sasuke, feeling electric jolts of excitement and pleasure running down his spine, closed his eyes and, for a few tense moments, remained stiff as a stick and just lost himself in that sensation of sinking.
This was what he – not literally -- hated most about Naruto; the idiot blond had a way of dealing with him that, well, took his breath away and made him forgetful of everything else. For instance, it was truly amazing how wonderfully effective a kiss was; it turned his brain into mush, made his knees go weak and instinctively made him hold on to Naruto, like that moron was the only thing left on earth.
He hated Naruto for doing that to him, for making him feel like that weak and needy, even though he couldn't allow himself to be like that. As a shinobi – a tool, nevertheless – he was supposed to be strong, invincible and void of any weaknesses; an Achilles spot wasn't something that he should have tolerated.
However, the soft pressure against his lips made him loosen his guard, close his eyes and, tightening his hold on Naruto's shoulders, Sasuke allowed himself to enjoy it. Perhaps, it was wrong, he thought, but at the same time, he couldn't have cared less. This felt good; Naruto felt good and right now, Sasuke was feeling safe and the total opposite of weak. Briefly, he wondered whether some part of his brain had gone down the lone and died prematurely, but not for long – soon, he was too busy reciprocating the kiss with that same, undemanding softness.
Naruto wasn't surprised that Sasuke had gone rigid when he had kissed him: he never was very responsive, unless in the mood for it. Therefore, it made him feel more than giddy that Sasuke was returning the gesture and, moreover, seemed quite intent not to stop; he was letting his guard down and not was an unusual feat for him. Naruto was honoured that he was the one, whom Sasuke trusted enough, enough not to push him away and run for the hills.
Sadly, for both of them, reality came crashing down upon their heads and Naruto knew that he had to dash – or he would run into some very unnecessary problems. He had no desire to feel Tsunade or Sakura's wrath for all the golden pennies on Earth; some things just weren't worth the price and, it if it boiled down to his manhood, he wasn't going to be overzealous. Besides, Sasuke wouldn't want him to be an eunuch either.
"You're cute angry, you know that?" Naruto told him, flashing him a boyish smile; Sasuke was reminded of their genin days and a part of him felt it hard to believe that they were already older than that.
"I'll have to go now. Go back to sleep or whatever else you wanna do."
"Don't talk that much...you're late, aren't you?"
Naruto merely raised his eyebrows, a little touched and flattered by the fact that Sasuke was mothering him. It was, considering the nature of their relationship, a teeny bit disgusting to compare him to a mother hen, but appropriate.
"Doesn't matter much, I think. Kakashi-sensei was always late and we still made it to something."
"Kakashi was a horrible teacher. Period."
With a sudden crack Naruto sprang from the bed and holding his thumb in front of Sasuke's face, gave him a look that promised nothing good. He looked earnestly offended and, pouting like a little boy, reprimanded Sasuke with following words:
"Hey, he taught you the chidori and all about teamwork."
Sasuke chuckled, honestly amused at Naruto's deference for their former teacher; leave it to him that he would defend that perverted man's teaching skills.
"Fine, he was a perverted idiot then," Sasuke answered, exasperated. Of course, he didn't really think of Kakashi in a demeaning way nor was he ungrateful what the man had done for him. Nonetheless, he couldn't deny that Kakashi's teaching methods had been less than orthodox, which Naruto naturally couldn't grasp.
"Besides, you shouldn't use the past tense for people who haven't kicked the bucket yet."
Sasuke threw a pillow at him, but Naruto laughed it off. He loved teasing his serious-minded and moody partner, knowing that nothing aggravated him more than being made fun of. Sasuke was surprisingly childlike and indulgent for being supposedly unemotional and his "I'm better than you all" airs. Perhaps, his own hobbies – like sleeping with those weird hats of his – had rubbed off on Sasuke and he no longer feared showing his own childishness. Whatever it was, Naruto liked that side of him as well.
Finally, finding the strength to get out of bed, Naruto rose and immediately sighed when his feet came into contact with the hard and unscrupulously cold floor. A while back, Naruto had wanted to buy a carpet, which would have saved him this dire sensation every day, but Sasuke, a member of the fellowship of the Spartan Lifestyle, had heavily protested against it. In the end, Naruto decided that it was better to give in than to deal with the other's iciness: he didn't have the guts to attempt to change Sasuke's mind. When it came to household affairs, that man was about as giving and understanding as the wrath of Zeus.
"So, I'll get goin' now...Have a nice day, sweetheart."
Luckily Naruto was out of the room and the apartment before Sasuke could throw a katon no jutsu at him; if there was one thing the not very humorous and light-hearted man loathed, it was being called cutesy nicknames and endearments. Still, when the blond was gone and the only thing remaining of him was the smell of musk, strength and, not so inexplicably, ramen, Sasuke smiled. Although it wasn't a wide, comical smile nor anything else of the overbearing sort, it was a smile, nevertheless – that special, nearly timid smile that Sasuke especially excelled at.
On that same evening, Naruto with his shoulders squared and his head aching horrendously, knocked on the apartment door with a thunderous force, cursing like a sailor. To say that he had had a bad day was an understatement: he had been through hell, felt like he had walked through roasting ashes burning his feet and had a sword plunged through his hand. Children were monsters, in spite of their innocuous appearance, and had made him raise his voice quite a number of times. Too often, for his tastes. Apparently, he wasn't a good substitute for the very patient and understanding man who was Iruka; that man was truly a saint to be able to deal with brats, tricksters without feeling the need to grab their little, respective necks and break them.
"Why are you knocking? You've got keys-" Sasuke told him slightly angrily, his head covered by a towel and dressed in loose-fitting pyjama pants; he was shirtless and looked, unfortunately, quite delectable in this state. It was unfortunate because Naruto, worn out and pissed-off as he was, would have preferred another sight: this was making him feel even worse. Of course, it was selfish of him; however, some childish part of his personality wanted everything to be grey and dull when he was feeling out of synch.
"Shut the fuck up and just let me pass," Naruto told him rather rudely and pushing the other man brusquely out of the way, entered the apartment with little ado and regarded the cleanliness of it with remarked distaste. Being a perfectionist, Sasuke had, in a very scary way, taken it to heart to make the very floor of the complex look tip-top, devoid of any specks of dust or soiled imprints of muddy footprints. It looked, in all honesty, too perfect and immaculate, casting off a vivid impression of a hospital hall.
"Take off your shoes," came the immediate command from Sasuke's lips and Naruto could tell he was annoyed: he didn't like being pushed around at all. As he felt his anger slowly fading away, Naruto felt guilty that he had treated his friend like that – he hadn't deserved it. It wasn't Sasuke's fault that he had been feeling rather wasted lately.
"Yes, mother."
Sasuke threw him a dirty look, but didn't choose to comment on it any further. Instead, he closed the door and with slightly sluggish, but still oddly graceful movements, walked to the bathroom and reappeared a few minutes later, fully dressed and without a "turban" gracing that pretty head of his.
Naruto had used the time in between to take off his shoes, which he had wisely placed next to the other series of footworks, and currently he was seated on an ordinary, unassuming chair beside the kitchen table, trying to make that migraine of his disappear. Rubbing his temple didn't seem to work, even though Sakura had told him that it was the perfect remedy to alleviate this kind of pain.
"You've had a hard day."
Lord, Sasuke was such a perceptive guy, Naruto thought sarcastically; however, not feeling particularly adventurous, he didn't bother letting that bastard know how much of a Captain Obvious he was being at the moment. Besides, it wasn't Sasuke's fault that he was in a foul mood – starting a fight over such a small matter wasn't really what he was aiming for.
"Yes, and please don't start bitching about how much I smell," Naruto replied, still rubbing his head desperately, "I'll take a bath later."
"You're being bratty today," Sasuke remarked, but the tone in his voice wasn't an angry one: it sounded halfway amused and, as much as it amazed Naruto, concerned. Perhaps, he didn't get to hear or see that side of Sasuke enough – which was why it still sent chills down his spine.
"Sasuke-- I'm just ..." Naruto attempted, fishing for a decent apology, but words failed him; he didn't want to show how weak he was and telling Sasuke that he couldn't handle kids was downright pathetic.
"I'll help you relax."
"Are you gonna give me a blowjob?" Naruto asked hopefully, thinking it was just the sort of medicine he needed; he had really been corrupted by his former teachers. Furthermore, the image of Sasuke kneeling on that immaculately clean floor and giving him such bliss was too good an idea not to indulge in.
Sasuke snorted and jabbed his shoulder playfully. "You've got a one-track mind, idiot. I'm going to give you a massage."
"Spoilsport".
Although Naruto was a teeny bit disappointed, he couldn't feign that a massage sounded just as good. After all, anything was better-- infinitely so – than his head aching.
"Shut up or I won't do it."
"Come on, I was only kidding."
Then, Sasuke's cool, indescribably graceful hands were on his back, giving him one of the best massages he had ever had. He could also feel Sasuke's breath coming down on his neck and, this, made him shiver. No, it wasn't quite as effective as a kiss or the warmth of being connected with him physically, but it was still being close to him, feeling him. There was something comforting in Sasuke's calm presence and, even more, in that power of his hands.
"Sasuke, damn you...this feels good."
"It's supposed to," was his non-committal, nearly mocking answer, as if Naruto were the biggest idiot on the face of the planet.
"Naruto, you know that we've had you take on that substitute job as teacher because...you were feeling very exhausted -- too exhausted -- after your last mission."
He didn't like her mentioning it; it was too much of rubbing salt into his wounds – he felt better now.
"I know: I'm slowly getting back into shape."
"You've lost weight – if that's what you mean."
He nodded his head obediently, though he wondered what the point of this was. So, yes, he had been feeling a little less energetic lately and he sweated a lot recently at night, which made Sasuke cringe his nose in disgust; however, this wasn't anything unusual. His last mission had been tough, had drained him to the marrow and, as he was a normal human being, he couldn't be expected to not have suffered from it. So, feeling the disgusting tension, Naruto started:
"Look, if this about the--"
"You've recently had your blood taken and – the results showed something unexpected."
He didn't wish to be reminded of his blood being taken, but his ears pricked up at the latter part of the sentence. What the hell was she prattling on about?
"And everything is fine, right?" Naruto asked, not out of curiosity, but because he was waiting for Tsunade to confirm that everything was more than fine. Naruto, if ever, was rarely ill and there could be no way that this would ever change.
"You see, that's the point...you're not fine, Naruto."
"What do you mean, I'm not fine...ba-chan? Kyuubi heals everything and as..."
"Naruto, damn it. You're ill – seriously ill. And it's nothing Kyuubi can heal."
"And? So you'll just pull off some amazing jutsu and everything will turn out dandy. "
This had been the case before: Naruto had often been on the very brink of death, but through Tsunade's powers had been able to recover miraculously.
"It's not that simple."
Slowly, Naruto was starting to feel anxious; Tsunade never looked that downright defeated and sensing that he was tense – his fists were clenched, his lips pressed tightly against one another and his breath slightly uneven-- he tried to lighten the mood.
"I'm mean, I'll be okay...it's nothing that'll kill me? I can't be brought down that easily."
Sure enough, Tsunade would grin back and tell him that this was absolutely right, adding something like "you're an insufferable brat" to anger him. Or this is what would have happened on a normal day, which this was not: Tsunade didn't return Naruto's smile nor did the grave expression on her face disappear, if anything it only worsened. In a matter of minutes, she had risen from her seat, grabbed him by the shoulders and, although she was now shorter than him, there was still such power in her grip that Naruto still felt significantly tiny compared to her.
"Naruto, listen to me. Please listen to me."
He did listen and said no more; Tsunade's voice was the only sound in the room.
"You have a rare case of leukaemia. I'm not sure whether, you really have it... but it's likely."
This wasn't what Naruto had expected: he had no damn idea what she was talking about. However, it couldn't be anything good. It couldn't be.
"And what am I supposed to do? Wait?"
What followed this discourse was like a nightmare, accompanied with terms and jargon which Naruto didn't only fail to comprehend, but had to have explained twice. From what he gathered, it wasn't going to be nice procedure for either him or the old hag. Furthermore, he grasped the opportunity for a new mission wouldn't arise that soon, either – not until this problem was solved.
On his way out, Naruto in his absent-minded manner, collided against the last person he had wished to see – Sakura.
"What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Nothing, Sakura-chan. I'm just ... tired."
"Men are such sissies, really. Come on, that's not like you."
With that, she slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder and ran off, probably to meet her teacher; Naruto smiled after her retreating image and marvelled over how she had grown. Sakura was strong now, unflinching and every bit as scary as Tsunade, but still a part of her remained that sweet and generous girl she had always been.
"You're being aggressive," Sasuke was whining or elegantly stating, trying to adjust to Naruto's weight; he was pined against the bed and having his hands kept in place by the aforementioned. He wasn't angry nor displeased, even though this – very comprising position – was rather unusual, especially because Naruto didn't tend to lunge him at just like that.
Naruto kissed him, forcing his lips apart with an aggression and fierceness that he usually reserved for sparring; he didn't even bother to check whether Sasuke was breathing through his nose or not. For the time being, Sasuke didn't mind: roughness had always been part of their nature and he wasn't made out of porcelain, so he could deal. He could deal with Naruto's attacking his lips harshly, could tolerate the hands clutching his own and this was fine – it felt good.
Still, there was something wrong about this: Naruto wasn't that aggressive nor that egoistical, unless he was mad as hell or something troubled him. Normally, Sasuke would have given him the pleasure and accepted the contact. Yet, his instincts told him that whatever troubled Naruto wasn't worth being kept silent about.
"Naruto..."
"Just shut up and don't complain," Naruto whispered harshly.
That did it: Sasuke wasn't the type to accept orders just like that and, sooner than he could react, Naruto found himself on the floor, howling in pain – he had landed right on his tail bone. Sasuke didn't offer him any consolation in this matter; he was too pissed off himself and Naruto was an idiot.
"Damn. What the hell is the matter with you?" Naruto roared out in his pain.
"What the devil has gotten into you? You come in without a greeting, grab my arm and then – push me down the bed like a doll."
"I was horny."
The rolling of Sasuke's eyes and his stance proved that he didn't buy it; he was still sitting on the bed and his body language implied that he wanted – was willing – to talk.
"Besides, it's your fault that you're so tempting."
"You're lucky I didn't kick you into the groin," Sasuke let him know angrily, "You would have deserved that."
"Whatever. Then you should have just done it. Would have been better than listening to this crap."
Sasuke sighed frustratedly, but didn't walk out of the room. Instead, he sat down next to Naruto and, for a while, they both remained in that position, seated under the bed.
"Have you had a bad day again?"
"No. I'm just tired."
Naruto wasn't lying when he said this; it had just dawned upon him how exhausted he really was. He was chilled, his head felt heavy and his legs seemed to be akin to two heavy shopping bags, filled with beer cans and bottles.
"You're tired a lot these days."
"I told you: that mission was awful. You wouldn't have had fun killing that kid either."
He felt cool hands on his head: Sasuke was obviously trying to find whether he had a fever or not. This amused Naruto and he couldn't suppress a chuckle.
"You're becoming more and more like a mother hen, Sasuke."
"And you've still not outgrown being a ten-year-old brat."
The last sentence bore no malice in it, even though Naruto should have felt annoyed. He didn't like being compared to a child: he was better, more mature and intelligent than some young ruffian.
Naruto would have gladly resumed their discussion or argued with Sasuke just out of spite: he had an itch to scratch and there was nothing better than fighting. He liked to fight tooth and nails for the dreams he wished to pursue. However, he didn't want to bother Sasuke and, if his ears didn't deceive him, the other had left the room; he was obviously not in the mood to argue. Perhaps, he had had enough of that – and wished to enjoy the free days he had been given without fighting. Even a person like Sasuke just wanted to relax from time to time.
"Why are you packing your things, Naruto?"
"I'm leaving," Naruto answered bluntly, as if it were nothing unusual.
Still, it was odd: Naruto was packing – or rather just tossing – the few shirts and trousers he owned rather hastily into his travelling sack; his movements were frantic and he seemed distracted, hectic, as if time were running against him.
Sasuke didn't understand a word of this nonsense: it was weird and Naruto was behaving oddly. He had been acting uncharacteristically for the past few days, but this was taking the top of the cake. This was off-limits even for him: Naruto wasn't the type to not mention things, especially if it concerned leaving.
"Where? Are you going on a mission?"
"Sort of. Look Sasuke, I'll--"
Before he could finish this sentence, the jounin had to take a deep breath and seemingly focused on the wonderfully intricate architecture of the drawers standing in front of him; he seemed to ponder over his next words carefully – which, again, was an unusual thing to do for Naruto.
"What? Just spit it out."
"It's better if we call it quits."
To say that Sasuke was –figuratively – blown out of proportions, bedazzled in the very negative sense of the word was not sufficient enough a description. For a moment, he thought he had misunderstood something or that he was daydreaming: it couldn't possibly be that Naruto was really saying this. They had been together for nearly four years now and, in spite of all their differences, Sasuke knew that they were relatively happy together...so what the hell was the idiot blabbering on about?
"Naruto, if this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny at all."
It wasn't uncommon for Naruto to crack random jokes or to say things that enraged Sasuke: he was used to it by now. This, however, was relatively original and disconcerted by the blond's silence, Sasuke added:
"Moron...don't say stuff like that or you'll regret it."
"This isn't a joke, damnit. I'm serious."
Again, Sasuke was rendered speechless and, this time, he knew that Naruto wasn't pulling his legs.
"And when were you planning on telling me? Or were you just gonna leave like this?"
The sound of Naruto gulping and breathing heavily angered Sasuke even more.
Triggered by an emotion that was uncontrollable and wild, Sasuke slammed Naruto against the wall, making him drop that blasted sack and look him into his face; they were both the same height and there was no way he could try to hide the devastated expression from him.
"I can't tell you, Sasuke. Please don't make this harder. "
There was a bang against the wall and the plaster came tumbling down; sheets of white fell on both of their clothes. There was a hole in the wall now, but Sasuke didn't give a damn.
"Fuck, you can't just pack your bags without an explanation."
Naruto, as much as he had resolved to be cool and firm, had known beforehand how hard this would be; he had prepared himself internally for the fact that Sasuke wouldn't accept anything just like that. After all, Sasuke didn't take shit from anyone, least of all from him.
"Sasuke..."
"I don't deserve that. Tell me why.."
This was the truth: Sasuke deserved a lot of things, especially after having abandoned Naruto and Konoha in the past; however, they had long since resolved their issues and he tried to atone for his mistakes. Whatever he had done, he had grown up since then and any grudge Naruto might have held against him, had long since been forgotten.
"I can't."
Sasuke had never heard Naruto that broken before and, looking into his face, he saw sadness and something he would never associated with Naruto Uzumaki – defeat. Whatever had happened had broken Naruto so much that it made him look vulnerable, broken even.
Naruto shook his head, and said, louder this time:
"I'm doing this for you, Sasuke. You deserve --"
"What do I deserve?"
"Better than me."
Naruto wanted to tell him that he deserved better than having a dead man walking, better than dealing with someone who might not make it. He didn't want Sasuke to suffer anymore than he already had; Sasuke deserved some peace and happiness after all those years wasted on revenge and hatred.
"You're not the one who decides about my welfare."
Then, all too quickly and abruptly , he felt Naruto's warm, calloused hands on his face, caressing him gently and making him loosen the grip he held on the other man's shoulders. Afterwards, he felt equally warm and soft lips descending on his – this shocked him and closing his eyes, Sasuke relented. Perhaps, it was wrong, dumb even because some part of him knew it was to make him shut up, to distract him.
Naruto pulled Sasuke closer to him, hearing the other man gasp into the kiss; he smiled into the kiss and marvelled over how easy it was to coerce that usually, stubborn bastard. The next move was unfair and in combat, Naruto would have termed it cowardice, but he had to do it. With a quick "whoosh", Sasuke fell limp and his body was leaning against Naruto's, feeling familiar and welcome.
"I love you, but this is needed."
Carrying the unconscious Sasuke into the bedroom, Naruto placed him carefully on the bed and picking up the formerly discarded sack, he sighed heavily and left.
Naruto was a grown up man; he could deal with a lot of things such as plunging a fist through one's chest, making a corpse disappear and other decidedly violent and crude activities. He was an ANBU, trained to hunt down missing-nins, mostly criminal and hopeless cases – men who had long ago sold their soul to the devil. He had seen enough in his lifetime to be traumatised.
What he couldn't deal with, however, was the sinking, helpless realisation of how much he already missed Sasuke – and it had only been a night. Or, better said, he hadn't even survived this night yet. Knowing that he couldn't leave the village – not without causing a great deal of commotion – Naruto had opted to spend the night in a shabby, little hostel, cheap of price and equally cheap in their provisions.
Now, Naruto knew the advantages of living with a neat person – it didn't smell, there were no cockroaches crawling in the bathtub and the bed didn't make his back ache. Oh yes, he had told himself that this was the price he had to pay, that one sacrifice necessary to make. He didn't want either Sasuke or Sakura involved in this: this was a burden he could very well carry on his own.
He was going to be fine, but as long as he wasn't, it wasn't necessary to get them involved. Still, Naruto's heart constricted when he thought how much he would miss not being able to talk to them.
Getting drunk was the best option to forget, it seemed; he had learnt this after his first real mission as an ANBU. Or, for some inherently inexplicable reason, which had nothing to do with genetics or the order of things, nature made men liable to turn to alcoholic beverage for comfort.
Naruto was no exception to the vulgar and questionable practices of his sex. Also, he felt that any more thought processes wasted on the future yet to come wasn't going to make him feel any better. So, he put on the goofiest grin on his face one could imagine and trotted off into a dingy, not much renowned pub, hoping to find the appropriate means of solace. He hadn't been here before; however, he had been told by well-meaning individuals that this was the place to get as drunk as a pirate. Trying to ignore the biting cool of the wind and the lifelessness in his limbs, he ventured inside and hoped to be greeted with cosy, idle warmth.
There wasn't any, of course: the pub was small, smelled of burnt wool and something indefinably disgusting – an unfavourable mixture of sweat and fish. There wasn't anyone in there to share his sorrow with, either and the only occupant, save his truly, was the grumbling, haggard keeper: a woman in her forties, already greying and her saggy flesh wasn't anything noteworthy. Had she at least been voluptuous, young and sociable, he might have had a better night; just because he frequently slept with a man didn't mean that he had forgotten the charms of the other sex. No, he wasn't gay; Sasuke was the only guy he fancied and that, per definition, made him Sasuke-sexual. And, though, he hadn't told Sasuke before and he didn't ever want him to know... he hadn't been entirely virginal when they had finally gotten together.
Jiraiya had taken him to brothels and, being a hot-blooded, hormonal and very eager teenage male, Naruto had allowed himself to get involved with one female or the other. At first, it had been fun, the physical contact had made him momentarily forget what was lacking in his life; he had, in brief short-lasting transitions of that kind, forgotten about Sasuke, his promise to Sakura and the scary, bunch of psychos on the lookout for him. Still, things quickly soured off and, after his fifth or sixth attempt, Naruto had decided that feeling empty and used after sex wasn't one of the best feelings out there. He couldn't do it without emotions involved. Yet, his experiences – however brief and slightly-drunk induced they had been – had helped him not to render Sasuke asexual. Or so he liked to believe.
Holding the pint in his hand nearly fondly, he brushed over it and remembered:
Don't tell me you're actually a virgin, Sasuke."
The dark-haired boy snorted angrily and crossing his arms, spat out:
"Do I look like a man whore to you? Heh...a prostitute?"
"No, but I thought with your looks you'd at least have gotten laid once."
The word "Orochimaru" was on his tongue, but Naruto didn't feel like reopening wounds that were still too fresh. He really didn't want to know what Sasuke had been doing with that snake-bastard; the sole thought of it made him want to retch and, well, he was possessive of Sasuke. No one had the right to touch Sasuke, but him.
"I'm mean you're not – a virgin, right?"
The dark look in Sasuke's eyes and the not so unnoticeable blush creeping over his pale features answered the question for him. Why, this was an honour and, not to mention, rather charming. He, cautiously, grabbed Sasuke by the hand and made him sit next down to him. Then it dawned upon him that it wasn't too illogical, not really quite as odd – their first kisses had sucked. Sasuke had been either too aggressive, not letting him breathe, or been about as responsive as a wall.
"I'll be real gentle," Naruto said tenderly, grabbing a lock of Sasuke's hair and pushing it behind his ear. If he had been sentimental, he might have cried or written an ode – this utterly perfect creature was truly his.
"Shut up. It's not like you're not one-"
Naruto kissed Sasuke to interrupt him: it wasn't necessary to bicker now. What followed afterwards wasn't by any means flawless or an exact replica of his wet dreams. Sasuke whined, complained, his fingernails dug a little too hardly into his skin and he wasn't quite as naughty as Naruto would have wanted him to be. In his dreams, Sasuke hadn't been such an awkward kisser nor shown any signs of being nervous. This Sasuke, however, was; his kisses were more like attacks, defences not to break under Naruto and his moans – as hard as he tried to suppress them – sounded like swears, time and time again.
Still, he was warm, willing and trusted him – enough to let him do this, to make him also know this part of him and that itself was enough – and much better than his dreams, anyway. This was real.
Naruto smiled at the memory, feeling that it really did seem like yesterday – funny how things of the past weren't so much out of reach. Yet, damn, he had done it again: he had thought of Sasuke, which made the bile rise to the throat and made him feel nauseous. He couldn't – shouldn't -- think of Sasuke.
Neji didn't think much of pubs and it was only utter coincidence that he walked into this awful excuse of a building; there were no people in it, save for some gurgling idiot in the shady corner of it and that scarecrow of a woman. He had to do this, even if it was undignified and embarrassing to a man of his position. There was no other place in sight.
"Could I use the wash room, please?"
The woman, not very used to politeness, threw the young man a very suspicious look and pointing to the very end of the room, showed him the direction. Neji did his best not to scoff and decided to get it over with. He walked past the gurgling and, as further observation proved, toothless idiot and walking down some very narrow and slippery steps into the room he desired. He expected it to look unclean and shoddy, bringing the odour of urine and nicotine into his nose. What he didn't expect to see when he entered the loo was a familiar face leaning against the sink and looking very, very ill.
"Naruto?" he asked bemusedly, not liking his dishevelled appearance at all.
"...Ne—Neji..what the fuck are you doin' here. I didn't think you'd be the type to – ah – drink."
"I didn't come here to drink," Neji replied calmly, but went over the sink, grabbed rolls of tissue paper and – very meticulously – started to wipe out some rather large blood stains from his shirt. Seeing Naruto's perplexed expression, he reluctantly admitted:
"I don't want Hinata to be scared when I get home."
"You're weird."
Naruto wanted to say more, along the lines of "she's a ninja, don't you think she can handle the sight of blood?", but let it pass – Neji was strangely protective of her, despite what people said. He was like a fretting big brother. Then again, Naruto mused, perhaps this was what being a family was about – driving one another mad with either care or utter neglect. Having no one care for you was bad enough to make one go ballistic.
"No weirder than you."
"Well, I came here to drink, but somehow... forget it."
Neji didn't say more and Naruto, feeling very drained out and just plain sick, sunk to the ground; his feet had given way much too easily and he felt like he could slip into unconsciousness right there, on these cold tiles.
"Are you alright?"
"No, I'm fine and dandy. Absolutely gorgeous," Naruto muttered sardonically. Great, he was on the verge of passing out, in front of Neji Hyuuga and there was nothing he do against it. He loathed this feeling of helplessness, felt the utter ridiculousness of the situation as vividly as if a belt were being thrashed against him, but all this was to no avail. The world around him – the sickly green-painted wall, the water from the sink tapping in sickening slurps and his friend's worried face – he was amazed at how expressive the man's features were – grew in a hazy, distorted something; he felt like slipping away, falling and falling deeper into darkness until it finally enveloped him completely.
When he awoke, the first thing that came to Naruto's mind, like a torch being flashed across his face, was how familiar and very much like home the bed felt. This wasn't the scratchy, poorly sewn bed sheet of the hostel covering him, but something much warmer and agreeable to his tastes. He was even more confused when his eyes, shifting from the ceiling to the other side, came into eye contact with another pair of dark ones. Of course, it was no one other than Sasuke who looked even haughtier than usual.
"You're finally awake, then."
"Sasuke, what the hell- Why am I here?" Naruto found himself saying idiotically, his teeth and mouth working against him as if he were a puppet. Instead of being cold and rude, he was acting like the blabbering fool he usually was.
"You passed out in some wretched pub and Hyuuga brought you here."
"Damn that Neji guy."
A part of Naruto wanted to add "screw everything", but he didn't; it wouldn't have amended anything.
"You look like shit."
Fuck, judging the tone of that voice – so neutral-sounding and composed – Sasuke was considerably angry and hurt. Naruto's last stint had triggered some sort of emotion in the guy and he was on the verge of an explosion; the countdown was beginning.
"Look, Sasuke-- I must..."
"Leave again? I won't let you go. Not in that state."
Whether he meant Naruto's frazzled, uncontrollable hair falling lankly against his forehead – he hadn't washed it in several days – or the rings under his eyes, he wasn't sure of. Hell, he knew he looked terrible – he felt awful enough. Still, he couldn't stay.
"We've had this discussion before," Naruto stated plainly, hoping that Sasuke would get the point and fuck off. He was fed up with the round-about, always revolving around the same dilemma chain of his reflections; he didn't want to think at all.
"You knocked me out, idiot. We didn't have any sort of discussion."
Alas, Sasuke had an excellent memory and he was a stubborn prat as well – he wouldn't stop until he reached his goal. In this case, his goal was apparently to drive Naruto nuts. It was constantly like this, be it a casual argument over the right curtains for the living room or some details about their mission. Sasuke was a fanatic, detail-obsessed and anal-retentive asshole who wouldn't rest until one accepted his intellectually-founded and, thus, infallible point of view. He rarely relented and, if he did, it was with a scowling, infuriated look, as if he were a martyr of some sorts.
"I don't want to talk about it, okay!" Naruto yelled out, unable to stand this any longer.
There was pound against the wall and a hiss of pain; Naruto had driven his knuckles against the wall in sheer desperation and the pain – sharp and all too real – made him howl. Sasuke, having observed this with quiet horror, clutched his hand, tore a some material from his shirt and tied it around Naruto's hand to cover the wound.
"You can't just shut me out of your life, Naruto."
Damn Sasuke, Naruto thought, for making this such a ugly mess. Damn him, for looking that earnest and upset when he was supposed to be an unemotional ice block . Then, it would have been easier to pack his things, call it a day and leave without any hassle: he could have been like a spirit, short and fleeting in his existence. However, it seemed that something kept him here and, lest he wanted to lose his sanity, he had to cope with it. Feeling sardonic and cruel, Naruto decided to share the truth with Sasuke, even it would wreck things further and make everything go to the dogs. If Sasuke was so damned persistent, then he deserved to know; it was his own fault for not poking his nose into matters that didn't concern him.
"You're a fucking bastard. And – fuck – well, I'm ill, so ill that if I don't treat myself accordingly, I'll kick the bucket," Naruto started, pushing out the words like machine gun, "Is that what you wanted to hear? And now tell me -"
At first, there was no visible reaction on Sasuke's impassive face; he had paled and his eyes had widened, but there had been nothing else. No flood of tears threatened to spill from his eyes and there wasn't an audible gasp to heard: Sasuke was silent, the wheels in his head were turning and processing the intelligence he had just received.
If Naruto hadn't known him better, he wouldn't have recognised the tell-tale signs at all. Yet, the mask was crumbling, giving way to an honestly shocked expression – something akin to disbelief, fear and anger, all packed in one.
"You...goddamned fool..." Sasuke whispered, jumping from his seat. He didn't face Naruto, but the other could see him shaking as if being subtly electrocuted by little wires.
"I knew you'd react like this."
He had known, as certainly as this planet is round, that Sasuke would behave like a wounded animal and let his claws out, berating him like a unrepentant criminal.
"Why didn't you tell me? How could you not trust me with this?"
"I was trying to protect you."
"Bullshit. You were being selfish."
"Self-how was I being selfish?"
He wasn't – in no way – selfish for having wanted to keep everyone out of this; it wasn't their burden to carry, damnit. Aside from that, it was selflessness to not be a bother and get in everyone's way. He wasn't going to stand in the way and have everyone mother him, while forgetting their own affairs. Sadly, Sasuke didn't seem to think the same and his face, now slowly revealing the anger and disappointment bottled up inside, was hard with consternation and his voice was condemning. Naruto wanted to hide the bed covers in shame and he cursed Neji under his breath once more: this was all his fault.
"In your craptastic view to protect me...you didn't even friggin' consider how much it hurt me. To have you gone, to not know where you were."
"I suffered that for three years. Sasu-"
"Shut up. This isn't about me defecting, it's about you not trusting me enough."
"Sasuke-"
"And then Neji comes along and brings you home like that."
Naruto didn't like the picture: him smelling of tobacco, beer and unwashed clothes being carried like a freaking baby on Neji's thin, but impossibly strong hands. It was bad enough to make him feel like a loser, some sort of girlish, pussy fag who couldn't even hold his liquor. The only thing to be grateful for was the fact that Neji wasn't the chatty type – no one would hear of this, other than Sasuke and himself.
"Huh...and you like me like this? Do you? Weak, pathetic and – I won't have you pity me, Sasuke. I won't have you wasting your life on me."
Having said this, Naruto waited for the inevitable – he wanted to Sasuke to leave, to say that he was right and leave him be.
However, Naruto didn't have the time to prepare himself for anything of the kind. Before he could even gather his senses, he felt strong, lithe yet muscular wrap around his shoulders and the softness of Sasuke's hair against his cheek. This was bewildering, awkward, unexpected, but at the same time, Naruto breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to say "I'm sorry", wanted to slap himself or go and die in a ditch. This wasn't what he deserved.
"I'm not going to abandon you."
It was a simple statement; so simply and straightforwardly uttered that Naruto's inner romantic was offended and rebuffed by it – a more eloquent and dramatic show of emotions would have been preferred. Or he had just read too much sentimental garbage. Yet, undoubtedly, to hear something like that out of Sasuke's mouth was as good as one could get: it was like a lottery win for Naruto.
The embrace itself was powerful enough and yet tentatively hesitant; just like Sasuke himself.
As cheesy as it sounded, Naruto felt that it said more than was necessary: he felt comforted, if not even reassured by it. He dragged his own hands forward, upwards and, very cautiously, returned the gesture. He was terrified that Sasuke would let go – this didn't happen, though. Sasuke continued to hold him and, only let go, once Naruto started coughing and his back ached. There was only one more thing on his mind.
"Does Sakura know?"
"No, not yet. "
"Good," Naruto said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"She'd better not. If she knew, she'd beat you up."
"I'm not scared of her."
"Heh. "
"Oi-what are you insinuating?"
"That you're scared shitless of her, moron."
Naruto growled in mock anger, but the cheerfulness on his face revealed otherwise. He smiled and for a while, for an indeterminable amount of time, the world was all right.
...