A/N: So now that we got all that plot stuff out of the way, it is time for some action! Thanks to everybody who reviewed, I'm so happy you are enjoying this fic. I know many of you think Sasuke is a man-whore... and you are right, but let's give him the benefit of the doubt here. A lot of you are excited about Itachi and I am sorry that his part is so small - but it is crucial and in the end we will all thank him. ;) So I hope you thoroughly enjoy this chapter and of course, I'd love to know your thoughts!
Warnings: This chapter contains some beautiful boyxboy action, not a full lemon but plenty satisfying.
Disclaimer: I believe that when you die you get to do whatever you want in heaven... that is when I will own Naruto - for like a minute. Then I will make Sasuke pound Naruto into oblivion and God will kick me out. You think Satan will let me own Naruto?
I'm rapping my fingers against my cup in frustration. Not only is Itachi a bastard, but he is also perpetually late. I think he does it simply because he can. He knows I will wait and so he takes his sweet time. There is no doubt in my mind that he wouldn't be as gracious if I were to show up 15 minutes past our arranged meeting time and he was forced to wait. So I show up on time and sit.
Finally he shows, walking into the cafe with the nonchalance of a man in no hurry. He saunters up to the counter and gives his ridiculous order – he makes it exceedingly difficult on purpose. Tall half-skinny, half-soy split quad shot latte with extra foam and a sprinkle of cinnamon. God help the barista in training.
He brings his drink to my table and sits down without even a greeting. He stares at me, slowly sipping at the foam in his cup. I stare back, taking in his features. I haven't seen Itachi in a few months, not since he came home for winter break – even though he lives in the same city he makes sure to avoid his family as much as possible. I notice he is letting his hair grow out, it is tied back in a loose ponytail that his hanging over one shoulder. Only an Uchiha could make that style look that good.
Irritated by our lack of progress I finally break the silence, "Did you have a hard time finding the place?"
He snorts and looks away, taking a more substantial sip of his coffee. When his eyes return to me they are somewhat warmer.
"To what do I owe this pleasure little brother?" His voice is just as silky as ever. It's the voice of a man who either doesn't know or doesn't care how his presence affects those around him.
To say Itachi is intimidating would be a horrific understatement, but he isn't overtly so. You never get the impression that he is trying to harass or bully, nevertheless he does so expertly. He has an acute sense of human behavior and uses his perception to manipulate the weak willed. He can read a situation with precision and navigates every scenario without fail.
He will know how to handle Naruto.
"I need your skills," I answer over the rim of my cup.
He arches a dark eyebrow, "And which skill might that be?"
I am not immune to his surreptitious ways, but I am considerably more accustomed to them than most. I won't let him unnerve me; I won't give him the satisfaction.
"There is this boy..."
As far as I am concerned, this plan is a masterpiece. Try as I might, I am unable to find a single fault. Itachi never fails to impress.
I'm on the train. Public transportation is not something I am too familiar with so I made sure to acquaint myself with the areas around the entrance and exit, the turnstiles and the specific train for the route I am taking. It isn't as bad as I would have thought, much cleaner than I had led myself to believe - it hardly smells of urine at all.
Every aspect of this scheme has a point and a purpose; nothing has been left to chance. There is a parade downtown this afternoon and as a result the train is packed. The festivities have also caused numerous detours and congestion in the streets, it would be foolish to attempt to drive downtown. This has ensured that Naruto will be taking the 1:25 pm train in order to make sure he gets to work on time. There will be four stops and about 15 minutes from when he boards to when he gets off. I plan on taking full advantage of those 15 minutes.
Two days ago I met a gruff fellow on this very train. He appeared stable enough and after a brief conversation I discovered the man, who called himself Bekko, was an unemployed, ex-marine with PTSD. I stress, he was stable enough. Today, when I boarded the train, I found Bekko sitting next to the door and handed him a crisp hundred dollar bill.
As the train approaches Naruto's stop I unfold a newspaper and bury my nose in the Arts section. A few people get off but considerably more people get on. Bekko has taken his spot next to the door and as he locates his target he begins to move. He succeeds in herding the blond into a corner and he continues to stand guard, keeping all others at bay while I make way to him. I tap the man on the shoulder and he nods as he retreats to his original seat.
There are a few people around us but they are all too engrossed in reading or music or video games to pay any attention. Naruto has one hand gripping a handle bar, the other is shoved in his pocket. I move forward and bring one hand up to grip the rail just behind Naruto.
I place my other hand on his hip as I lean forward, "Naruto," I whisper, my breath washing over the nape of his neck. His shoulders tense and I lean into him further, "I know you don't want to talk to me. That's fine, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to."
I noticed when he sharply inhaled and wait until he releases the breath in a huff before I continue, "I know why you are mad at me. I understand. But, Naruto... there is a reason," I sigh and nuzzle lightly into his blond locks, "You have no idea how you affect me. Even now. Your warmth, your scent... Can you feel it?"
With a slight thrust of my hips and press myself against him. My hard length barely rubbing against his backside. I know he notices because he looks away and I can feel the increased heat radiating from him. I wait a moment and just when I think he won't respond he closes his eyes and presses back against me. Just a little. Just enough.
"Oh fuck, Naruto," there is a slight tremor in my voice that I don't even try to hide, "I shouldn't have treated Gaara the way I did. I could say that about a few other guys too. I'm not going to lie to you. I can't. I could blame it on poor impulse control, but that would be a cop out."
He has opened his eyes but is not trying to look at me. Instead he stares ahead, eyes focused on the graffiti on the wall. When I planned this little speech I made a promise to myself – unadulterated honesty. I'm am going to bare myself to Naruto; I'm not going to hold back. That isn't to say this is going to be a warm and fuzzy declaration of love. But I am not going to play myself out to be a victim, that would be disgraceful. I have made my bed – several times over – and I am going to lay in it. I just hope that by the end of the day he will join me.
"The truth is," I pause and lean in closer, lips brushing the shell of Naruto's ear, "I like to fuck. It feels good and I am good at it. So when a willing partner with a sweet ass presents himself, I take him."
He has stiffened even more, his jaw is clenched. But he isn't fighting me, his back is still pressed into my chest and he hasn't said a single word to counter me. I slip my hand under his white T-shirt, my fingers tracing lightly against his taut stomach.
The intercom announces the next stop.
"But Naruto," I sigh, "I never intended to make them feel cheap... I guess I didn't give them any other choice with the way I acted. I just couldn't connect with those guys. I wouldn't let myself."
My hand begins to travel up, softly brushing along the hills and valleys of his abs and ribs. I stretch out my thumb and rub it against his nipple. His breathing has become more rushed, but otherwise he remains unreadable.
"You see Naruto, it wouldn't have been fair to them. I am not the type to lead a guy on and I had absolutely no intention of dating any of them. I didn't want to date Gaara," I bring my hand up further and circle my index finger around his nipple, relishing it the way it has hardened under my touch, "do you know why?" I pinch the pebbled flesh and a tiny squeak emanates from Naruto's throat, "I have only ever wanted you."
My hand slides down his torso and he shudders. I slip it under the waistband of his pants and boxers, and press it firmly against his pelvis nestling my fingers into the course hair. He isn't fully hard yet, but his cock is slowly climbing.
"I had never felt this way before," I push myself further into his backside, "I didn't know what to do. I wanted more from you. More than one night. More than a good fuck," I smile against his neck, "but God it was a good fuck."
I take a breath and speak with quiet confidence, "Naruto I want you. I want to be with you."
His dick is moving up in slow and steady pulses. I reach out with my fingers and brush against the hard length. My fingertips take a leisurely stroll down the shaft; feeling the contours, following the veins.
The intercom crackles, announcing the next stop and the woman who was reading a magazine in the seat behind me gets up. She bumps into me as she moves and my hand constricts around Naruto's cock. He gasps – it is the most sound he has made since I approached him. The woman hesitates for a moment, then continues on. My heart is thumping in my chest, threatening to explode through my rib cage. I am so fucking turned on.
I begin to stroke him, flexing my wrist as best I can within the confines of his pants. It isn't ideal, but I don't give a shit. I can't stop myself. If it wouldn't draw too much attention I would rip down his pants and plunder his sweet asshole until the train reached the end of the line.
"Naruto," I whisper, my teeth nibbling the cartilage of his ear, "I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I don't want another empty fuck."
I roll my hips with that last word. Don't get me wrong, I want to fuck. Dear Jesus, I want to fuck. But I want more than that.
"I want to lay beside you and soak in your warmth. I want to make you laugh... and moan," I release a sort of pained sigh, "I want to hear you say my name with passion and possessiveness."
My awkward strokes have brought him to full mast and I continue to pump. He shifts his weight, trying to give me more space or a better angle. He rolls his hips and rubs his ass against my hard on. I curse into his neck and my tongue slips out to taste the salty flesh. Somewhere nearby somebody coughs and I am reminded of the proximity of the people around us. At anytime somebody could look up or look over and see what we are doing.
I feel a surge of adrenaline, my skin is tingling. I rock my hips lightly, continuously. My hand tightens around his swollen head and I give it a few quick strokes before I feel the vibration of a moan in Naruto's chest. From my vantage point behind him I am unable to make out his full expression, but I can see that his eyes are closed and his lip is held tightly between his teeth. He tweaks his eyebrows as I twist my tight fist around his weeping tip. I can feel my own cock aching and I try to get the most out of my subtle thrusts. I don't know where this is going to go but I don't want it to end.
Third stop. One more and Naruto will get off. Twice, if I have anything to say about it. I laugh to myself, that joke never gets old. Naruto's breaths are coming much shorter now, his stifled moans becoming more persistent.
"What do you want Naruto?" I half groan into his ear.
"Nghh."
"Do you want to cum?" I drawl as I firmly stroke him.
He shakes his head 'no' and then his eyelids flutter, "y-yes..."
I smirk and whisper, my voice low and dark, "So do I."
I risk losing my balance by letting go of the railing. I take my now free hand and grip Naruto's hip firmly, allowing me to grind against him with more power. As I press myself into his ass I tighten my fist around his cock and pump faster.
There is a man sitting right next to us, I can here his newspaper rustling periodically. If he were to look up he would be face to groin with us. I lick my lips and release a shuddered breath. I am dry humping Naruto on a packed train on a Saturday afternoon.
I've never been much for dry humping – it always seemed a bit... immature I suppose, especially after I lost my virginity. I didn't get the point of it. I get it now. This is what you do when you need release. Not when you are bored and just want to get off. No, this is desperate act second only to masturbation.
The urgency and neediness of the activity is amplified by the presence of strangers all around us. I couldn't stop if I wanted to. Completion is the only option at this point. But my shallow thrusts are frustratingly inefficient.
"Naruto," I breathe shakily, "say my name when you cum."
His mouth goes slack and a small grunt of confirmation passes his lips. The aching in my cock has spread out and I can feel it in my chest, constricting my breathing. My racing pulse is causing me to shake and I brace myself against Naruto as I rock against him. I shift from long strokes to quick and tight pumps at the tip, giving an extra squeeze on the upstroke as my fingers slide over the crest. His free hand moves to my arm, holding on but not inhibiting my movements. I can feel his chest heaving in jerky breaths and then his fingers dig into the flesh of my forearm.
"Sas...nngghhh...fuck, Sasu..." he twists his head as softly cries out, failing again and again to say my name.
I grab him and pull him tighter to me, craning my neck to capture his lips. I groan into his mouth as I find that sweet release. My tongue clashes with his. The odd angle makes the embrace difficult to control and the slick muscles occasionally slide out, running along skin.
Naruto begins to turn and in a moment of quick thinking I shove my soiled hand into his back pocket, simultaneously wiping off his hot cum while I grab the firm muscle. He wraps his arms around me, fisting my shirt and pulling me closer. I can feel my boxers sticking to me and I pray that the pressure of our embrace doesn't cause the mess in my pants to leak to the front. I may have just humped a boy on a subway train, but I still have my Uchiha pride.
The intercom once again blares the approaching stop and Naruto pulls away from the kiss. I slide my hand out of his back pocket as the train slows. He doesn't speak any words, he just stares in a hazy afterglow. His eyes are a bright azure, speckled with darker hues that make the orbs seem so much deeper.
The train stops completely and Naruto begins to move, I follow him to the door. He turns to me and smiles, "My shift ends at nine. Be a gentleman and pick me up."
He steps off the train and I smirk as I call out to him, "Who said I was a gentleman?"
Naruto flips me off just as the doors slide closed and I arch an eyebrow in response. I can't hear him, but it looks like he is laughing as the train pulls away.
I'm going to have to buy Itachi a fruit basket.
"Hey baby, need a ride?" I call out the passenger window as I pull up to the curb.
Naruto rolls his eyes and kicks himself off the wall he was leaning against, "You know, even trying to be chivalrous you still sound like a creep."
He slides into the seat and relaxes into the leather. Must have been a busy day. I pull into traffic and begin to drive, exactly where I have no idea. You would think that having seven hours to plan I would have been able to come up with something – dinner, a movie, a pleasant evening stroll. But you would be wrong. I know, I'm disappointed too.
I get on the freeway and follow a familiar path – the one back home. Maybe we can think of something to do together... or maybe we can just do each other. Either way it beats driving around aimlessly. He doesn't question my motives as I exit the freeway and begin the journey into suburbia. The deeper we go, the larger the houses and more expansive the lots. Soon we arrive at a dead end of sorts – the road continues on after a wrought iron gate. I pull up to the entrance and wait, slowly the gate begins to part. I continue on for several hundred feet before the driveway begins to curve into a U shape. Once in front of the house I park and turn off the ignition.
Naruto's eyes are wide as he stares at the three story monstrosity that is Uchiha manor. I don't much care for the opulence of it; I don't like how my parents flaunt our money. That is why I drive a Cadillac and not a Porsche. I am not against using the money, but I don't see the point in shoving it in people's faces. It is the same reason I don't go to private school – I refused. I didn't want to surround myself with a bunch of pampered twats. I don't want to be defined by my money – by my Uchiha bastardism sure, but not my money.
We get out of the vehicle and I walk around to the side of the house, entering through the kitchen rather than the front door. I try not to make it too obvious that I am attempting to sneak upstairs, I don't want to give Naruto the impression that I am embarrassed of him. It is quite the opposite – I am horrified by my family.
We manage to make it to my room without incident. I casually lock the door behind me and follow Naruto further into the room. He takes in the décor and nods as if in approval – the room is simple, bland compared to rest of the house. The furniture is sleek, dark walnut and the walls are all a tint of warm gray except for the one. My bed is centered on a deep, bleeding crimson wall. The black duvet appears simple enough – until you feel the supple silk and Egyptian cotton blend. He turns to me with expectant eyes.
I shove my hands in my pocket, "So..."
He must find my awkwardness appealing because he smiles, "So you got me alone in your room..."
His gaze flits over to my bed and I must admit the same thought had crossed my mind – many times. And as much as I would love to pound a Naruto shaped dent into my mattress, I resist. I don't know why I am resisting exactly. By all outward appearances, this is exactly what I have been striving towards. Isn't this my ultimate goal? To bed the blond again?
I approach him slowly, taking my time to assess my thoughts. My body is quite clearly telling me what it wants – to be buried inside him and only stop thrusting once the fiery ache in my muscles becomes unbearable. But my mind is sending another message – it still wants to take him to bed, but not for sex. Something is telling me to hold him close; smell his hair, kiss his forehead and lay with him. Dear God in heaven, I think I want to cuddle him.
There are qualities that every Uchiha is born with: a sense of self-entitlement, the ability to arch a single eyebrow dangerously high, the patented Uchiha glare and of course an icy black heart. However, we are not born with a penchant for intimacy. The very idea is foreign to me. I have received hugs before, mostly from strangers that didn't know any better – they quickly learned the error of their ways. But if I think back on it, I cannot find a time where I willingly engaged in an embrace that was not immediately followed by genital contact. Hell, the last time I hugged my mother was probably two years ago – when she handed me the keys to my car.
So the fact that I am considering taking Naruto into my arms and not pinning him to my bed is... unsettling. By the time I arrive by Naruto's side I have made up my mind. I curl my fingers under the hem of my shirt and slowly pull it up. I exercise my grace as I peel away the fabric and toss it to the floor. Naruto's eyes widen a fraction, I can clearly see his pupils dilating – engorging in his eyes as I am sure another organ is in his pants. His tongue slips out to wet his lips and I can't help but smirk. This is just a taste of what I have in store. I am going to wreck him. Beautifully.
I reach out for him, dip my hands under his white t-shirt and begin a brief exploration of his body. My palms press against his sides; up, down and around to his back. I drag my fingers up his spine, then under his shoulder blades and back down his gently tapering torso. When I reach his hips I pull my hands back and grab hold of his shirt. He raises his arms as I pull the article up, revealing the bronze skin I was just touching. I toss the shirt away just as I did with my own and return my hands to him. This time I walk my fingers up his lightly defined abs. When I reach his chest I flatten my palms and tweak his nipples between my extended fingers. I don't linger as long as I would like, instead I bring my hands up. My fingers thread through his hair and I hold onto his head, keeping his eyes fixed on mine.
I close the small space between our bodies and tilt my head as I descend on his parted lips. The tips of our tongues touch delicately, even before our lips have locked. He flicks his tongue playfully and I reciprocate, swirling mine around his. Our lips have sealed and our tongues continue to dance and play within the moist cavern.
I don't know when I closed my eyes, I am feeling more than seeing anything that his happening right now. It is as if this is the culmination of everything that has happened since that night in my car. And it isn't even sex. This is deeper. His hands come up to grab onto my shoulders and I move mine to his waist, pulling him tighter against me. Slowly the kiss is taking on a life of its own; I don't know if I can control it any longer. Our tongues are engaged in a sloppy battle to see whose mouth they can map out more of; I have a feeling it is going to be a draw. I strengthen my grip around him and grind him against me – it wasn't my intention, but dammit these things happen. He moans into my mouth and digs blunt fingernails into my shoulders. If this keeps up we aren't going to last very long. I pull back and put a few inches between us. He takes this as an invitation to work at my pants and I have force myself to slap his hand away. He looks up, azure eyes confused and a little irritated.
With one hand I cup his cheek, with the other I card my fingers through his hair. I sigh as I speak, "I'm not going to fuck you tonight."
He cocks his head slightly, "Then what are we doing here?"
I smile before wrapping my arms around him. I nuzzle into his soft golden hair as I hug him close, "I want to lay with you... sleep with you." I pull back and peer into his eyes, "I just want to be close to you."
His eyes are searching mine, clearly unsure. He thinks he must not have heard me right, that I didn't mean what I said. His search turns up nothing but sincerity and something else that he won't be able to define. I am not even entirely sure what it is – infatuation? Adoration? Love? Whatever it is, I feel with everything I have and I know it is in my eyes right now.
I look down between us, there is an outline straining both our pants and I purse my lips. I would love to lay naked with him, but I am not sure I trust myself... I don't know if I trust him either.
I grab the button to his fly and give him a stern look, "No sex," I say with conviction, "not tonight."
I don't know if I am commanding him or myself, it's probably meant for both of us. I tug at his jeans and the button slips out of its hole. I pull down his zipper and slip my hands under his boxers to push the fabric down. The remaining clothes fall away, pooling at Naruto's feet. I can feel myself salivating as I eye his hard cock, I don't realize I am staring until his arms obscure my view. He is working my fly and I hiss as he reveals my own straining hard on.
Naruto steps out of his clothes and sits on my bed as he pulls off his socks. That is it. After all this time, Naruto is naked on my bed. Fuck, I want to jump him. No, no dammit. I slip out of my socks and join him on the mattress. It is so hard – restraining myself. Some unidentifiable part of me insists I will enjoy this 'cuddling' thing, but parts that I am much more familiar with are screaming to just end this suffering and fuck the hell out of him. But I will not succumb, I will hold him in my arms and keep my dick out of his ass.
He lays back on the bed and I begin to move over him. I never said I wouldn't touch him... and I didn't say what I would or would not touch him with. So as I move I drag my lips and tongue across his skin. I do us both a favor and stay away from his cock, but not by much. My tongue glides along his inner thigh and deviates just before it reaches his taint. There is a vaguely familiar flavor that mingles with the saltiness of the skin. It's Naruto's flavor – his own special composition of pheromones and sweat that nobody could ever duplicate.
I nip at his jutting hip bone and ghost my lips over his stomach. His nipples receive quite a bit of punishment. First the left, then the right – I flick my tongue against the dusty pink nubs until they harden, then I roll them between my teeth. He bucks under me, arching his back. I hear a muffled moan that causes me to smirk against his skin.
I lap at the abused flesh and move on. My hot breath caresses his neck as I make my way to his ear. Goosebumps erupt down the tan column and there is another mewl. My tongue runs along the shell and I pant. I don't know what to say, so I whisper his name and he whimpers in response.
God, I love the way he responds to me – my touches, my words... my presence. At first it seems sort of sadistic that I am made happy when he is made needy. But when I think about it more, I realize that it is actually me that is so damn needy. I need to hear him pant, I need to make him squirm... I need him to need me. Pretty fucking cheesy.
As I linger so close to him I begin to think that maybe that strange part of my mind might be right; this is oddly satisfying. It is intimate – still highly sexually charged but not weighed down with the anticipation of intercourse.
Slowly I nestled my body into his; I slip one leg between his thighs, and rest my torso half on him and half on the bed. I wrap my arms around him and nuzzle into him. I can smell him – his scent is heavy from a day of working but it is not overpowering. He doesn't move much at first, he just stays in the position I have maneuvered him into. After a few minutes he begins to shift.
We are spooning. I am horrified when I come to this realization – partly because I never imagined myself being somebody's 'big spoon', but also because I am now painfully aware of the proximity of his ass and my dick. My hard on is buried between his cheeks and it takes every ounce of will power I have not to roll my hips. I tighten my grip around his side and he brings his arm up to rest on top of mine. Our fingers are interlaced as our hands press into his chest.
Once I overcome my initial shock in realizing our position I find that I am smiling. I can feel his warmth against my chest and it pleases me to know that he is pressing against me as hard as I am pressing into him. He is enjoying this as much as I am. I cannot stop myself from kissing along his neck and nuzzling deeper into his hair.
This is nice...
Dammit.