Sasuke stared intently at the pen clenched so tightly in his grip that his knuckles were blanched white, at the lined notebook opened to a fresh, new page. It was college ruled, perforated, with exactly thirty-three blue lines running horizontally across each page. He'd studied it with such intensity, such scrutiny, noting every detail about it that his vision was beginning to blur.

And he'd yet to write a single word.

Gnawing on his bottom lip, he narrowed his eyes at the still unmarked paper, feeling the tumultuous whirlwind of his turbulent emotions give a vicious undulation. These feelings, so long unexpressed, so long suppressed, needed to be released somehow. What better way than through the written word? God knew he would never be able to voice them aloud.

Sasuke set his jaw resolutely, the tip of the pen finally touching down on paper. And he began to write.

Naruto,

I've asked myself a million and one times how to start this. And a million and one times I've been left unanswered, struck with what I believe is Cowardly Lion Syndrome, something inside too scared or insecure or some shit to say what needs to be said.

I can't be a coward anymore. Maybe I've visited Oz and found some courage or maybe I just finally grew a pair. Or maybe I've just kept all this shit bottled up for so long that now it needs to be released, or else I'll go insane from the fucking strain.

That rhymed, huh? I'm a poet and didn't know it... and, of course, this would be the part where you'd say, "I make it rhyme every time." A stupid thing, dating back to our school days together. It's funny the memories your own brain dredges up, all in an attempt to sidetrack you from your main objective.

Getting sidetracked can't happen right now.

Dobe, I've kept this inside for too long, buried so deep in my subconscious that even I wasn't aware of it for the longest time. But now I can't deny the truth, or escape from it, or fucking deflect anymore. I need to be honest about this, if only to save myself from the massive coronary this internalized shit is going to cause me. Or maybe it's an ulcer. Aneurysm? Whatever the case, I need to preserve what sanity I have left, and to do that I need to practice some honesty here.

The truth, my oldest and most trusted friend, is that I'm... in love with you.

I don't know how or when it happened, or how and when I actually realized it. The only thing I do know is that it happened...and it's inescapable, staring me in the face every time I glimpse my reflection in the mirror, haunting my dreams, both day and night, and coloring every conversation I have with you. Soon it's going to be so obvious that you'll guess, and I'll be left in the dust, being deprived of even your friendship, because you're going to be pissed that I didn't fess up myself.

Being a lovesick fool, I can handle. Getting you amputated from my life, I can't.

This is something I've tried and tried to tell you. But every time I attempt to do so, my voice box secures itself with a fucking padlock and won't let anything intelligible scrape past my throat. It got even worse when Hinata entered the equation. You fell so hard, so fast, and I couldn't really blame you. I mean, she's beautiful, generous, and has a heart of gold. She's the perfect woman...and she was practically gift-wrapped, a bow placed atop that lovely hair of hers, and hand delivered to you. She makes you happy, though, so I can't find it in me to hate her. My own happiness is overrated.

But that still leaves me with this burning confession, festering inside me and possibly going cancerous. I can't stop my heart from giving these agonizing wrenches every time I see you kiss Hinata, wishing it were my lips yours were coaxing apart. I can't stop the nauseous plummeting of my stomach every time you hug her, wishing it were me you were embracing. I can't stop the forceful constriction of my chest every time you two disappear into your room, because I know that you'll soon be sinking into the warm heat of her body, and I wish that it was me instead of her. And believe me, Naruto, this self-imposed torture of mine is worse than bamboo shards under the fingernails. Way more painful, too.

You have been my best friend for the longest time, and you've always had my back...just as I've always had yours.

Since coming home after being gone all those years, I've tried, really tried, to be there for you as you have been for me. That's the honest truth, dobe. But I think I'm going to have to start separating myself from you. Because, as much as my heart cries out for you, I'm not bastard enough to compromise what you've found with Hinata. Seeing you two together is just too painful for me though, and a piece of me dies each day that I can't have you for myself.

I guess that's it. Please know that I love you, Naruto, forever and always. That will never change. Hell, I even love Hinata, and know you two will be much happier without me playing the annoying third wheel all the time. But also know that I am unconditionally, unequivocally, forever and truly yours. It's just becoming too difficult for me, having to pretend that I'm not miserable inside...but I can manage to hold it in for today. I can be the dutiful best friend for just one more day—

Clenching his teeth, Sasuke leaned back in his chair, tossing the pen down before he could go on with the sob fest. This was supposed to have been cathartic, writing down his feelings, a way to release them and absolve himself or something. If anything, it only ripped off the scab, leaving him broken and bleeding.

A brief knock at the door heralded Naruto. He stepped inside the room Sasuke had retreated to, his black tux contrasting so nicely with his blond hair and golden features. His face radiated the happiness Sasuke had so recently mentioned in his letter, blue eyes sparkling like sapphires.

"Are you ready?" Naruto demanded, his lips spreading into a wide grin.

Shoving down the new wave of turbulent emotions brewing, Sasuke forced an answering smile, crumpling up the unfinished letter and trashing it in favor of the speech he'd painstakingly written the night before. He smoothed his own tux, tugging at the sleeves to straighten them, all to avoid Naruto's too perceptive gaze. "Yes, dobe," he said. "Let's get you married."