A/N: This is pointless. Utterly pointless. But I couldn't resist the chance to write godawful poetry.
Warnings:AU, Itanaru, horrible, horrible poetry, and stupidity besides. Enjoy!
The blond shuffled on the front step anxiously, clutching the paper in his hand. He looked up at the townhouse, paced back and forth, and held his finger over the doorbell. He hesitated a moment, then glanced to a spot a few feet to the left, where there were about three garbage cans.
Finally, he sighed and rang the doorbell.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. The shuffling intensified. Then the door swung open, revealing a man with long black hair and, interestingly enough, red eyes.
"Hello, Naruto," he said quietly.
The other boy cleared his throat, looking around nervously.
"Sasuke is out at the moment, but if you'd like to come in—"
"Oh great best friend's older brother, I think you are very cool!" Naruto suddenly cried out, keeping his eyes glued to the piece of paper in his hands.
The man froze. "Wha—" The trash cans snorted.
"Even though your little brother can sometimes be a tool," he continued.
"You are as handsome as handsome men can be,
You are even handsomer than the men on my TV."
The man's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Naruto, what is this about?"
Naruto paused for a second, glancing up at the man in parts embarrassment and parts terror. "If you interrupt me now I'm never gonna finish, okay?"
The words were said in such a rush that Itachi was barely able to understand them. He frowned as they registered. "I am not sure I—"
But the boy cleared his throat once more, and bravely went on, his voice nearly robotic.
"You have long black hair that is very long and very shiny,
I think you once had a zit, but it was very very tiny."
The slightly confused expression was quickly turning into one of disgust.
"Maybe today we could go eat some Ichiraku ramen,
The prices are great and the flavors are really uncommon
I love ramen a lot, almost as much as you
Ramen's the best food ever, it doesn't make me blue!"
Itachi sighed, a hand covering his eyes.
"There's shrimp, chicken, miso, and beef
I could eat it all day with my great big teeth,"
Tinny laughter came from the trash cans. Itachi glanced at them and understanding dawned on him.
"I really like ramen, and I hope you do too.
I like ramen, maybe even more than you.
If we go out for ramen, it will be a very good date
I'm not just saying this because I haven't yet ate."
The man tried to suppress the twitch threatening to start up in his left eye.
"So let's go down three blocks and get in line,
I want the early bird special, we can make it in time!
I hope you'll pay for it, 'cause you're a really good bean—" Naruto squinted. "Shit, sorry, teen—"
Guffaws from the trash cans, Itachi noticed them somehow in the midst of his horror and disgust.
"Unlike Sasuke, who's a douchebag and really really mean.
Sasuke would not pay, and would insult me instead.
He'd say things like I have a great big fat enormous head.
And that is not true, my head is small and awesome.
Though it's kinda bigger than the head of a possum.
One day I will defeat Sasuke and show him who's boss,
He doesn't believe me, but that is just his loss."
Itachi had the feeling the poem wasn't even about him anymore.
"If you go out with me, we'll have a very good time,
That's the end of the poem, but I needed this to rhyme.
Also, please pay for the ramen."
He finished not so much with a flourish as with a sputter, quickly folding the paper and stuffing into his orange jacket pocket. Then awkward silence reigned.
Naruto coughed. "So, uh, whaddya say?"
"That," Itachi said smoothly, blank expression uncomfortably close to a glare, "was the most banal, most pathetic thing I've ever had the misfortune of hearing." And he turned on his heel and went back inside, closing the door behind him.
Naruto blinked, left staring at a closed door. "So," he called out, "is that a no?"
Belly laughter from the peanut gallery.
"Oh shut up!" he cried, cheeks turning red. "Like you jerks would've done any better!"
Then the door swung open again to show Itachi, both arms laden with a massive pile of books. The belly laughter choked on itself, its source flopping over from the surprise of Itachi's entrance, toppling the three trash cans as a result. What was left was three boys, one with unruly hair and tattoos on his face, another slightly chubby, and the final with his hair pulled up in some sort of spiked pony-tail, all in a heap. Itachi didn't even give them a glance as he swept by them.
"Come," he said, pushing one of the piles into a startled Naruto's hands. "We have much work to do."
The boy stared, glancing down at the books—A Complete Collection of Shakespearian Sonnets, Great American Poets of the 19th Century, to name a few. "Uh. I, um. Seriously?"
"Now or never, Naruto."
So the blond gave a bewildered shrug to the pile of boys previously hidden by the trash cans, trotting after Itachi. The boy with the tattoos sat up, gingerly rubbing what was sure to be a bruise on his cheek.
"Seriously?!" he echoed, watching his friend disappear around the corner.
A/N: Argh, I wanted this to be a one-shot, but this was such a perfect place to leave off. In any case, the story won't be all that long.
Man, I can't help but love that poem....