It didn't happen like Naruto had always imagined.
For one thing, Naruto was the one who acted first, not Sasuke. Sasuke didn't come up to him, slam their lips together and press the blond against the nearest thing that would hold. It wasn't raining: cascading like rivers down their cheeks, not that they could ever notice. But neither was it sunny - a warm glow illuminating the couple in a sea of gold.
It was winter. It was cold. It was grey. It'd been a long day. Sasuke was not being nice. He wasn't whispering sweet nothings because he wasn't a sweet nothings kind of guy; and besides, he hated Naruto.
It didn't happen like Naruto had always imagined.
Naruto was pissed off. He was tired. His body ached and needed comfort. And Sasuke wouldn't shut the hell up. So Naruto shoved him, said a few words
(I can't believe that I fucking love you)
grabbed Sasuke's chin and pulled it toward him.
Naruto didn't inhale the sweet smell of cologne, or flowers, but rather the putrid stench of sweat that clung to their bodies. Sasuke wasn't gentle, nor passionate - he kissed him back, sure, but it wasn't anything more. There was no wall to press Sasuke against, and when Naruto tried to move them toward one, the bodies collapsed upon each other in a tangled mix of limbs, their kiss broken and the moment
(if you could call it that)
ruined. So no, it didn't happen like Naruto had always imagined.
But the point was that it happened, and at least the ending would remain the same.