::
::
There are mainly seven humiliating stages in a boy's life, according to Sasuke:
One) First erections. At first you don't know what that is, you just realize that your wee-wee sometimes stands up for no apparent reason whatsoever. It's not embarrassing for a naïve child to have popping wee-wees occasionally. Girls are what make it embarrassing. One time at the orphanage, a girl caught him with an erection and literally tried to pull it out, thinking that it was a stick hurting dear Sasuke. She was very persistent, even when he cried tears to stop it.
Two) First time masturbating. That would be around 12, at least for Sasuke. At this moment you begin to understand that most of your erections are triggered by certain awkward images. Yet you won't try to do anything unless it gets really stiff and you desperately need to do something. So you try with your hands. Oh yeah, that feels good. You apply a little more pressure. Oh dear fucking god what waz dat feeellinnn--- aaaAAAHHH, and you reach the maximum power of bliss and inevitably you smear the sofa with a strange white sticky thing that came out of your piss slit. You feel funny and happy and sort of worried for that abnormal white stuff, but overall, you feel pretty good with yourself. That is, until you hear a chuckle behind you.
(He should've certified that he was completely alone the first time he masturbated. It's rather traumatizing to find that your psychotic adoptive father had been behind the couch the whole time, soundlessly. For that, Sasuke didn't try to masturbate again for the next three months.)
Three) First wet dreams. That's what happens when you refuse to masturbate – that strange milk you saw the first time you masturbated? Well it will continue to come out spontaneously while you're asleep, like it or not.
Four) Eventually you understand that you're not a freak of nature when you hear other boys talking about masturbating and wet dreams. But why is this humiliating also? Because you now understand that the other boys' wet dreams are considerably different from yours: theirs have dicks penetrating vaginas while yours have only dicks.
Five) First time having sex. Sakura thought it was cute, that it was natural to be nervous the first time, but there is nothing more demoralizing for a guy's ego than to not be able to get it up. After a few failed attempts, Sasuke reached the conclusion that sex isn't much about your partner, but more about the power of your imagination. From then on, he was able to enjoy a healthy normal sex life. Like all the other guys.
Six) When you start giving a constant face to the person in your dreams/imagination. It's really embarrassing when that person is not a girl, but a guy. Even more when he is your ex-girlfriend's boyfriend.
Seven) First time going to the urologist. And that leads us to the present situation.
::
"I have an appointment."
The receptionist had two ridiculous blonde ponytails, heavy Barbie make-up and was chewing some pink bubblegum with ferocity, as if trying to kill the flavored rubber with her own teeth. She didn't have a neck, or if she did, it was buried somewhere inside of that giant pair of squeezed tits, popping out of a very tight uniform that was probably five sizes under. Clearly nobody told her that pushing her boobs up enough to cover her neck wasn't sexy at all, and that she only ended up looking like she was developing mumps.
"With who?" She punctuated with a huge pink bubble blown out of her mouth. Her scratchy voice didn't do any better to her image.
He leaned over the counter, approaching Barbie girl to whisper "Doctor Hatake."
"Name?"
"Sarutobi Sasuke."
"Sa-ru-to-" She pronounced the syllables as she slowly typed them on the keyboard, leaving Sasuke patiently wondering who let a moron work in a hospital. "Oh, your name is like-"
"Yes, like the fucking ninja." He replied roughly.
"Sarutobi Sasuke." A new bubble erupted from her mouth and burst in the next second. She collected the leftover gum with her tongue and rebooted the chomping process, only pausing to announce loudly: "Doctor Hatake Kakashi, Urology, 4th Floor."
Annoyance thrilled down his spine as heard Barbie girl practically shouting his reason to be there, as if besides him all the other presents needed to know that too. He glanced to his side, assuring that nobody was looking.
"Did you have to say that?" Sasuke grunted, feeling his face getting warm.
"It's my job." She smirked. "Sign here, Mr. Ninja."
Hostilely he grabbed the paper she handed to him and signed it swiftly. When he lifted his head to gaze upon her again, he found that her head had disappeared behind a gigantic pink bubble, leaving only the two blonde ponytails coming out of the sides.
Oh, she was asking for it.
Grabbing the pen, he pierced through the pink rubber balloon, making it burst loudly and swallow her face and bits of her hair. As she furiously plucked the chewing-gum from her skin, he dropped the pen and walked away to the stairs, with a soft smile of satisfaction.
::
Going to the 'cock doctor' isn't easy. It isn't the same as for women, who can talk for endless hours about how great their gynecologist is. You won't hear men talking about the day they saw the urologist and the doc said everything was fine, because urology is practically a taboo issue. A man goes there, sure, but nobody needs to know.
It's like a secret society.
However if you ever hear a man talking about his cock doctor, it would probably be something like this: "I just went there for a routine check and the doc was a total hot chick, so I got a boner just looking at her boobs and she said it was the nicest cock she had ever seen and asked me if she could suck me off."
Which is complete bullshit. Everybody knows that never happens, and that you're generally too nervous to even care about your doctor's gender. But if some friend of yours catches you walking out of the urologist office, you better have some crazy story like that under your sleeve so to explain why you went there in the first place. You're going, after all, to pay some guy to touch your shaft, not to mention the torturous waiting in the waiting-room with other guys that are also going to have their shaft grabbed, by the same hands that will be grabbing yours.
But if going to the 'cock doctor' consisted a hard task itself, encountering a known face there never made things easier.
"Oh. Neji."
"Sasuke."
Neji too seemed quite perplexed with the odd moment, not knowing if it was more awkward that he was found there or the fact that he found Sasuke there. They exchanged a sympathetic glare that meant no more than "Don't tell anyone you saw me here", and then Sasuke decided to sit one seat away from him, not so intimately close and yet not so uncongenially far.
After an awfully awkward moment of silence, Neji pretending to be interested in an old newspaper forgotten on the table, Sasuke was about to ask which doctor he was going to (to break the ice, at least) when a nurse walked into the room and called "Hyuuga Neji, door number three please."
::
After waiting another half an hour, the nurse finally called Sasuke, who was to direct himself to door number three also. Sasuke didn't enjoy the idea of sharing Neji's urologist, but he figured that the doctor was probably the only one working in the urology section of that hospital that day. Shrugging his grunts away, he followed the middle-aged nurse to his destiny, and entered through the appointed door.
The room was painfully painted in white, like a normal medical room. Sasuke didn't know whose brilliant mind dictated that hospitals and clinics must have white walls for cleanliness purposes, because it only stimulated the nervous system. The doctor's desk was centered in the left half of the room, while a folding-bed and a vase with a dying palm plant could be spotted at the right side. Behind the desk, there was a man with muscled arms.
"What seems to be the problem, Sasuke?" Muscled-arms asked.
Okay, there was something wrong with this picture. That guy was seriously out of context. The man wasn't even wearing a medical smock, donning a black tank top so tight that one could almost count three hundred different muscles only in the torso. He belonged to a gymnasium, not a hospital.
"You're the doctor?" Better ask than guess in these situations.
"Of course." Muscled-arms nodded. "Hatake Kakashi. Did you expect someone else?"
Fantastic. His first urology appointment and the doctor looked like Bruce Lee's body double. He felt like he'd just walked into a lame metaphor of a random gay novel.
Half-reluctantly, half-'I-alrady-paid-for-this-shit-might-as-well-move-along-with-the-appointment', Sasuke sat on the offered seat in front of Mr. Muscles, who also sat on his chair, ready to begin. If Sasuke had to guess, he'd say that Kakashi the Doctor was about thirty-eight and needed to change his hairdresser badly. Apart from the creepy looking scar that slashed his left eye in two, and the odd clinical mask around his mouth (do they let sick doctors work?), he looked pretty much like your average single middle-class physique-obsessed neighbor that goes jogging before breakfast.
"Where's your smock?"
"Why? Would you prefer to see me in a medical smock?"
Sasuke made a wry face at Kakashi's comment. You see, you just have to change the tone intuition and the most random question sounds sexual. And it was sufficiently worrisome that the doctor didn't realize that wearing a tight tank top to perform male genitalia examination was just not politically correct, at least on planet Earth. Yet, ignoring his comment, Sasuke took in a deep sigh and, with a dry expression, he stated: "I have irregular erections."
The doctor had begun reading a couple of papers, for he uttered, without even taking his eyes off them: "Irregular erections? Interesting…"
"It's not interesting. It's already troublesome to be aroused during the most inappropriate situations."
Sasuke chose not to utter any comment related to the one that caused his embarrassing hard-ons, much less referring to his gender. It's not what the doctor needed to know anyway.
"You have a schedule for erections of sorts?"
Kakashi had stopped reading whatever he was, to finally eye his patient. Sasuke hadn't appreciated the still lingering oh-so-subtle mocking tone.
"That's not what I mean! I…well aren't you going to see if everything's okay?"
Without waiting for Kakashi's answer, Sasuke placed in front of him the folded envelope he had carried with him, to which he remarked: "These are my blood and urine tests. I didn't know exactly which squares to check, so I checked them all."
Kakashi seemed somewhat surprised for this self-sufficient patient. He picked up the envelope and carefully pulled out the sheets, and he quickly confirmed that the boy had really ordered a full blood and urine check, even though the majority of the tested issues weren't relevant. His eyes quickly darted through the printed numbers, and after half a minute, he finally commented:
"I don't find anything out of the ordinary here…"
"My testosterone is a bit low." Sasuke trailed in, inwardly doubting the professional competence of the doctor.
The doctor eyed him with a puckered brow and stared back at the results. "Your testosterone is within the limits. It's fine to me."
"Yeah, but it's near the lower limit."
"It's still within the standard limits." Kakashi insisted, and then he added, with his ever-annoying mocking tone: "Though you don't seem to have much body hair, do you?"
What the fuck was wrong with that doctor? Did he take pleasure in mocking at his patients' flaws? It's true that nature didn't grant Sasuke with a proud masculine haired torso, like Asuma's. High school had been demoralizing enough for him, having to endure his classmates showing off their puberty results in the changing rooms after P.E., while Sasuke only had shy samples of keratin on his genitalia.
"Don't worry, this means nothing." The doctor replied with a chuckle, seeing his patient's disheartened face. "Now, shall we proceed to the examination?"
"Examination?"
"Yes. I take it this is your first time, right? Don't worry, it's not a big deal. A man has to do it once in a while." He dropped the papers on the desk and started looking for something in the drawers. "Stand up there next to the bed, please."
Sasuke tightened his grip on the armchairs' edges. That was quick. He expected the doctor to spend more time analyzing his blood results, and enlighten him with a decent clarification that explained why the fuck he felt like faggot every time Itachi's body-in-speedos popped up inside his head (-and shamelessly, that was happening more and more frequently). If low testosterone was the cause, then there would be some pills to get him back to normality, right? He even considered steroids, but he didn't want to risk taking steroids without knowing exactly the side effects. The only person he knew that took steroids was Maito Gai, his former P.E. teacher, but he was still pretty faggoty.
Furthermore, when he scheduled this urology appointment, he was really hoping to avoid the examination part. But seeing Kakashi preparing himself, washing his hands before sliding on the latex gloves, he thought that it probably wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe the answer was in his testicles – who knows, he could find that he had a weird type of cancer that gave him gay thoughts. Better to find these things out now than never.
Gathering courage, he promptly stood up and walked to the folding-bed. He noticed that his hands were shaking when he started unzipping his jeans, and tried to control his cardiac beating before the doctor detected his obvious nervousness. As soon as slid his boxers down to reveal a poorly shrunk manhood, still with few samples of keratin to show, Kakashi leaned down to take a close look at it.
-a very close, prolonged look at it.
Sasuke bit his inferior lip to refrain himself from sarcastically reminding Kakashi that he wasn't looking at a malformed embryo of a dead twin growing out of his pelvis, but a human male not-erected dick.
Now thinking about it, if Kakashi had boobs and severely less body musculature, and if they weren't in an urology room but in a cheap motel room outside Tokyo, this kind of reminded him his of his first time with Sakura.
"Do you feel any kind of pain when you have an erection?"
Kakashi sure didn't expect a serious answer because he made the question with a hand feeling hard his left testicle. Sasuke grimaced uncomfortably and turned his head to the dying plant in the corner of the room. "No…"
Kakashi's hand had slid to the right side of his scrotum, groping the testicle with his seemingly medical rigor.
"Don't feel any nodules. Can you turn around, please?"
"What for?"
Kakashi turned his head upwards. "To do the rectal exam, of course." Yet seeing the frown forming in his patient's features, he appended: "To check your prostate."
This is the part that Sasuke really, really, wanted to avoid. Groping balls was not a big deal, honestly – Tenten did it to him once, to prove a point that he doesn't really remember because the pain was too overwhelming. The 'twist' was the worst part. Asuma even had to give him an ointment to ease the swelling. So if he survived Tenten's castration threat, then a testicles' hand examination was not something that could scare him off.
But shoving a stranger's hand up his anus?
"It's only two fingers, Sasuke." Kakashi assured him.
Why were this guy's comments sounding sexual again? Anyway, Sasuke didn't like the 'rectal exam' idea. It surely won't be painless (not that he was a afraid of pain, but please, it's his private regions), and besides, Sasuke would like to preserve his one-way rectal canal: there ain't no enter door in his ass hole.
"Otherwise the examination would be incomplete."
He glared down at the doctor, trying to detect a hint of mockery in his tone. He sounded pretty serious. Huffing, he obeyed and turned around, bared ass in front of the doctor's face. As he closed his eyes tightly, he thought on what could possibly motivate an intelligent person to seek the profession of an urologist. Kakashi didn't seem like a guy that enjoyed his job. I mean, who would like to spend the entire day groping-
"Aah!-" His thoughts were interrupted by two slick fingers penetrating through his hole. "Shit man, you could've warned me!"
Kakashi, trained to pay no attention to his patients' whims, continued the examination inside his anus, feeling the nut-like muscle under his latex-clad fingertips.
"Don't be such a wuss, this doesn't hurt."
Sasuke grimaced in response, utterly uncomfortable with the experience. If going to the urology had taught him a life lesson already, then that was to never pursue the ways of a faggot. Having a macho man's fingers traveling inside his ass was really an unpleasant experience. He didn't even want to imagine what it was like to have a whole penis.
Really, who could understand gay people… He bet that Sai was like that. Maybe he should give him Kakashi's card.
"Done." Kakashi pulled out his fingers, after which he removed his gloves . "See, it was only twenty seconds."
"The longest twenty seconds of my life." The young brunette snorted. Hastily he dressed his pants, but he still felt the two fingers roaming inside his tensed buttocks.
"Don't be so dramatic."
The doctor walked back to his chair, throwing the gloves in the trash can half way. Grabbing the patient's file, he wrote a few notes there and checked a few blank squares, while Sasuke made himself comfortable again in his chair, trying to relax his buttocks on the velvet seat.
"From what I can tell Sasuke, you don't seem to have any alarming problems. Your testicles and your prostate don't show abnormal signs. Do you have any more problems you'd like to discuss?"
"What kind of problems?"
Kakashi had put down his pen to cross his hands under his chin, gazing at Sasuke with a semi-boring look. It was a fact, the man didn't like his job.
"I don't know. Do you feel anything wrong when you pee?"
"No."
"Any problems during ejaculation?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean if your semen isn't white or if it has a peculiar smell."
"No. I don't think so…"
"A strong smell?"
"No!"
Kakashi sighed.
"Any problems? Any sort of pain? Does your penis tilt to the side when you're aroused?"
"No!"
Sasuke frowned, not liking the mocking tone the doctor used in the last question.
Resigning himself with his patient's boring diagnosis, Kakashi grabbed the pen again. He scribbled down some words on a sheet of paper, in the special medical calligraphy invented by doctors that nobody else understood, because no real doctor uses normal handwriting. After that, Kakashi concluded:
"Then you're done."
"I'm done?"
"Yes. Congratulations, you're monotonously healthy."
:: ::
Lunch hour couldn't have come in a more suitable moment to clear up his head after the endless two-hour lesson of Legal Philosophy. It had been particularly annoying that morning, for the teacher decided to sort the groups for his class' work presentation himself, and Sasuke found himself having no voice at all in the matter. He was paired right away with Neji, of all the people.
Sasuke even tried to persuade the teacher after class to change groups, arguing that he was used to working with Shino (in fact he came to like Sabrina, Shino's trained centipede and his lucky mascot) and that all the other teachers knew it. Unfortunately, the professor didn't so understand:
"You and Neji are very alike, and you're my top students. I gave you the hardest work assignment, but I know you won't disappoint me."
Alike?! He and Lady Fate? The only thing they had in common was the same urology doctor! And that wasn't even something to be proud of.
Sasuke was therefore annoyed when lunch hour came, yet at the same time eager for the company of his friends, for some time to allow his mind to refresh with Naruto's stupidity and Sai's gayness. Unfortunately, expectation soon was replaced with disappointment, when he saw not just the distinctive figure of Sakura gracing him with her presence, at their table, but Tenten was also there.
"Sasuke! We were just talking about the tickets!" Naruto's joyful face greeted him, while Sakura just gave him a blank look.
"What tickets?"
Sasuke took the seat next to his blonde friend, as usual. He noticed that the cafeteria was awfully crowded that day. It seemed that half the campus decided to have lunch at the same hour.
"The concert tickets!" Naruto exclaimed, seemingly surprised before his friend's bemused face. "You know, I paid for them already and-"
"I don't remember agreeing on that. I won the pool match, so naturally it nullified the bet."
"You didn't really win, Sasuke." Tenten replied with her typical scratching voice. "Itachi is such a gentleman that he let you win."
The young Sarutobi eyed her with a sneer. "Does that mean that I was also a gentleman when I let them win in the card game?"
Next to Naruto, Sai spit up a bit of his drink, mumbling one "Pardon me" as he cleaned the liquid off the table with a tissue. No one noticed him though, too busy watching Tenten's face distorting into an ugly grimace.
"Gentleman? You?!" Tenten slammed her hands on the table. "You treat women like objects, you chauvinist playboy!"
Before Sasuke could interject that, Sakura opened her mouth:
"He didn't treat me like an object." And she punctuated, lazily playing with her glass: "If he did, that means he caressed me and kissed me all the time like he does with his bike."
Laughs erupted between the occupants of the table, while Sasuke made a wry mouth.
"I don't kiss my bike!"
"Actually, you did once-" Sai tried to correct his sentence, but he was immediately interrupted with a grunt and a death glare from the Sarutobi.
"I was drunk!"
Sai shrugged, and Naruto tried to ease Sasuke's irritation with a friendly slap on his back. In front of him, still giggling, Sakura decided to resume the initial topic of discussion: "Fine but please just pay your part of the concert tickets to Naruto, it's not fair that he's always the one who pays for everything."
"Why the hell are we still talking about the stupid concert tickets? I won the swimming bet fairly, end of story."
Naruto bit his inferior lip, yet he optioned to remain silent. Tenten was going to tell anyway. And knowing his friend as well as he did, Sasuke would probably take that little info in form of another stab to his ego.
"You don't know?" Tenten inquired, with a somewhat scary facial expression that revealed surprise and excitement at the same time. When Tenten made that face, that meant something unpleasant was about to come out of her mouth.
"Know what?"
"Itachi used to be a swimmer. He even won two medals at some junior swimming championship."
Sasuke was bemused. Itachi was a championship swimmer? That would explain the stupid speedos. Wait. Did that really mean that Itachi let him won? On purpose?
Why would he do that?
"Itachi is just trying to do well with Sakura's friends and since you're obviously a whiney loser, he had to fake defeat to be in good terms with you."
Was that what really happened? Did Itachi think he was so full of himself that he didn't know how to lose? Was that the impression he gave him at the card game?
Sasuke would have ten times preferred to lose the bet than have Itachi let him win. He knew he was sometimes a bit full of himself but hell, it's way more humiliating to be treated like a kid.
It's humiliating to know that Itachi thought so low of him.
Their friends had trailed into a new topic conversation, making jokes about a certain teacher that they all seem to have in common, leaving Sasuke to his secluded thoughts. He was having that feeling again, the obnoxious feeling of insecurity; it was like his persona was shattering down and everybody else could his pathetic true self.
He hated this feeling. He used to feel like that a lot of time, when he was in Junior High. He used to resolve his mind problems with his fists on someone else's face, but after three years in consulting-rooms he understood that violence only caused a short-lived placebo effect, and that his insecurities will never go away.
(But he hated that part of him. He hated what he used to be. He hated what he still was, in some ways. He hated Orochimaru for deluding him with a false image of a father-figure and then destroying it, along with his dreams.)
As he hated everyone in that table, and their stupid obnoxious laughs, so fucking loud and irritating. They were talking at the same time and chewing their food with open mouths, so ungracefully, so fucking annoying.
'..you're obviously a whiney loser!...'
That place was too crowded; too noisy but not noisy enough to muffle his distressed mind. Without previous warning, Sasuke stood up wordlessly and walked away to the exit door, ignoring Naruto's voice calling him back.
:: ::
It was indescribably hot inside the KillerBee's Car Garage. Burnt steam from the vehicles' engines condensed in the air, creating a special climate in that repair shop and possibly some cancerous cells in the full-time workers.
"Assistant, pay attention. Stop looking at Samui's boobs. I know they're amazing, but now this is important. "
"I wasn't looking at her boobs." He grunted.
He wasn't. He was actually looking at the owner of the garage, an obnoxious creature self-entitled Killer Bee, and wondering if he and Kakashi perhaps didn't go to the same gymnasium. Well, Kakashi was still a million push-ups behind Killer Bee's impressive body mass.
Sasuke was considering in entering a gymnasium too. It's not that he was scrawny. He actually had some muscles, though not very well defined. And his stomach was a bit flat. I mean, he had like a suggestion of abdominal packs and-
"Did you see how it's done?"
Omoi, one of the garage's mechanics, was supposedly teaching him how to change the oil filter of a car. When Sasuke applied to this job, Killer Bee made it clear that he was going to be just an assistant in the first few months; if he was a quick learner, he could be a professional mechanic one day. He said that in form of a lousily rhymed rap, to which Sasuke had to take a moment to assemble in the forms of structured sentences. By then he knew that he didn't want to spend enough time in that garage to reach the status of professional mechanic. He wasn't sure how many headaches per day he could handle.
"I know how to change an oil filter, Omoi."
He was only there to help Asuma and Kurenai's quivering finances anyway. As soon as Asuma's job stabilized and those cocksuckers started paying his salary delay, he'd quit.
"Hey kid." Omoi got up on his knees threateningly to glare at the young Sarutobi, his face standing inches from his. "You are my assistant. This is your first day. Therefore, you know nothing, understood? You only know what I teach you. Now, assistant, go change the oil and the filter of that Honda."
Sasuke shot him a glare coupled with a smug 'hnf', but he turned on his heels obediently. Needless to say that he didn't have a liking for that Omoi guy.
As he was walking towards the old white Honda, he felt a drop of sweat forming in his temple. Really, the garage was impossibly hot. No wonder why all the guys there weren't wearing many clothes. Omoi was even working with a bare chest.
He opened the driver's door and reached for the keys inside the vehicle, turning on the engine to warm up the oil. He decided to turn it off after half a minute, just in case the oil came out at a tricky angle (you never know with old cars). He cleaned the sweat off his forehead to his forearm, cursed again the temperature inside the shop, and reached for the tool cart. His shirt felt heavy and uncomfortable, and when he lifted his arm he noticed a sweat stain forming in the armpit.
"Don't be shy, kid. You can take your shirt off, we ain't gonna bite you." A passing by black-skinned young woman commented. "You betta get used to this place, 'cause sometimes it gets even hotter." She pointed to a group of men working on a couple of vehicles with bared chests. She wasn't wearing much either, only a tiger-like piece of clothing barely covered her breasts, exposing proudly her nice toned abdominals. She probably had more muscles than him, Sasuke noted with some jealously.
He decided to follow her advice and get rid of the top attire. He felt a bit uncomfortable – he always felt uncomfortable when showing his hairless, not tanned, not very muscled body in the middle of men that…well, looked like men, with lots of testosterone – but really, he couldn't work any other way under that burning environment. Turning the engine off, he skirted around the car and opened the hood, to remove the oil filter cap.
When he positioned himself under the car, and located for the oil pan, he realized that changing the oil of that car wasn't going to be as simple. Someone had put an external drain valve that was now in a complete mess, rusty all over and above. Probably bought in a Chinese store, no trusted brand would fabricate a piece of crap like that. He tried to open the valve but it was stuck, so he exerted more strength and, in the blink of an eye, the valve suddenly broke and he was bathed in glory with half a liter of oil.
"Shit!"
That was just great. First five minutes in this new job and he was already all oiled and sweaty. Fucking Chinese. It should be illegal to buy things from those swindlers. Fortunately he didn't let the engine warm the oil too much, otherwise he could have risked a burn.
"Assistant! Assistant!"
'Now what?!' Sliding out from under the car, he grabbed a towel and cleaned the excess oil off his face, passing it over his neck and his hair. He then walked towards a screaming Omoi, not too many feet away from him.
"My name is Sasuke and my hearing capability is excellent."
Omoi lifted an eyebrow, clearly not liking his sarcasm. His eyes diverted to Sasuke's naked chest, greasily shining and covered with dark stains of rusty oil. "I said to change the oil, not to make out with the car."
The other pouted. "It's the oil drain valve, that thing is-"
"I don't care, assistant. When I give you an order, you obey. Now, I need you to interrupt whatever you were doing to change the oil of that Aston Martin. You're lucky pal, your first day and you already get the pleasure to touch a car like that."
As soon as he uttered the words 'Austin Martin', Sasuke flipped his head around immediately to find the car, and he even gulped when he saw it.
What a priceless beauty. That wasn't just an Austin Martin. It was a carbon black Austin Martin DBS Volante, year 2009 definitely, a fucking special edition! Touchtronic gearbox, with automatic paddle-shift transmission, obsidian black leather interior trim with silver stitching, firmer suspension, and a 5.9L V12 engine specially modified to decrease its weight and improve its performance…
"Stop drooling kid. The owner is in hurry, so get your ass to work. And don't screw up, the owner is someone famous."
Omoi had pointed to a guy that Sasuke assumed to be the owner, a tall good-looking guy wearing a polo shirt and an air of smugness all around him. He sure looked like he had just walked out of the pages of a women's magazine.
"Who's he?"
Omoi shrugged. "Dunno. Karui thinks he's a model or something. Or an actor. Dunno. Go on, don't just stand there!"
He received a slap on the black, making him almost trip on the floor. Grunting, Sasuke complied, feeling somewhat ridiculous for having to now work shirtless, with oil still dripping on his chest. As he walked towards the Austin Martin, he noticed that its windows had been darkened, either to protect the owner's privacy or to make people outside assume that whoever was in that car was someone famous. Visibly, the guy might look like someone who spends half a day taking care of his appearance but Sasuke had never seen him before.
The Unheard Model-Slash-Actor stepped in when Sasuke approached the vehicle, his arms crossed over his chest like he wanted to inspect every one of his moves.
"They sent a new guy to treat my baby?"
Sasuke grimaced. A guy that addresses his car as his 'baby' in public; it's clearly a sign of a shitty personality. Though Sasuke knew well enough about Austin Martins, including the type of oils recommended for their engines, so he judiciously optioned to bluntly ignore his comment. Yet when he was about to touch his 'baby', the guy slammed his hand on the hood, glaring at Sasuke with obvious distrust.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Yes." Sasuke replied with scorn. What was his problem anyway? It was just to change the oil, not to dismantle the fucking car.
"What's going on, Shisui?"
That voice.
That unmistakable, deep, husky, manly voice.
Stepping out of the passenger seat, there was one Uchiha Itachi, always stylishly dressed in a satin-like black suit with a perfectly ironed white shirt and a carnelian red necktie. His hair was again tied in a ponytail (what's the point of having long hair if you always have it tied back?), two rebel strands of hair falling on each side of his face. His hands were slipping out of his trousers' pockets, and one could clearly distinguish the shining silver metal of a Rolex around his left wrist.
Frankly, this was the first time Sasuke noticed so many details of one person is less than two seconds.
"Good morning, Sasuke." Itachi halted before him with a smirk, standing only seven feet away from him. And Sasuke remembered to close his mouth.
"You know this guy?" Shisui the Model-Slash-Actor asked. For a moment, Sasuke had completely forgotten him.
"He is…" Itachi took one step closer. Five feet away. "…an acquaintance of mine."
He felt Itachi's intruding black eyes descending to his mouth, and then landing on his filthy oiled chest. It caused the younger to take a shy step back, as he remembered his ridiculous physical emergence. Sasuke had many times felt like a faggot, but never before had he felt like he'd just walked out of a gay porn script and now the sole member of his audience was expecting him to rub his nipples with the oil smeared over his torso.
(He actually wouldn't mind doing it. In fact, he was getting quite aroused with that thought.)
"Lovely." Shisui snorted sarcastically. "I think I'll go get a cup of coffee in that pigsty across the street while the oil is being changed. Are you coming?"
Itachi didn't even look at him. He replied with a dragged "No", adding "I think I'll just stay here", followed by a surprised interjection on the Model-Slash-Actor:
"It's frickin' hot in here!"
"It is." He replied, but kept his eyes still on Sasuke's body. Oddly, he didn't seem to be commenting on the temperature inside the garage.
Shisui didn't seem to like Itachi's response. He glared at Sasuke instead, grunting: "If the oil gets burnt, I'll send the bill to your house. Trust me, you don't want to spend the rest of your life paying for your inexperience."
With that said, he opened the car's door to grab his jacket, snorted one "I'll be right back" and exited the garage in large steps and with an upturned nose.
"You work here?"
Itachi's eyes caught his again, and again Sasuke felt himself being swallowed into this man's alluring presence, and the mysterious aura that seemed to emanate from his pours. Reluctantly he broke the eye contact to dress his gloves, and proceeded to open the hood of the car. "Only part-time."
He took notice of the shortened gap between them, as he removed the oil filter cap. Dry-swallowing, he made every effort in trying to calm his frenetic heartbeats and ignore Itachi's presence whatsoever, because at this moment he was wishing that Itachi would have just gone with that Shisui guy to the café across the street.
Walking away from the hood to grab the basin and the wrench, Sasuke positioned himself under the vehicle. As he located the drain plug, he heard Itachi's steps reaching his laid form, though the guy was still oddly quiet.
"So, you used to be a professional swimmer."
Sasuke almost had to yell to be heard, and immediately he felt rather stupid for making such a paltry comment. He really didn't want to bring up the subject. During the past weeks, he had been working on the task of ignoring that a certain Uchiha Itachi existed, moreover affected him immensely, but of course it was downright impossible when the man was so physically close to him and looking fascinating as ever.
But Itachi fell on his knees, titled his head sideways to reply: "I wouldn't use the word 'professional'."
With a snort Sasuke grabbed the oil-filled basin and got himself out from under the car, dropping it near the tool cart. Dragging it to the car's front, he selected the proper oil filter, after which he leaned himself over the hood to remove the old oil filter.
'…one-time offer…'
He mentally cursed, and shook his head from the mischievous memento. That was too surreal to be true. Really, he must've dreamt it. Since when would Itachi…like…pimp himself to Sasuke? Though he did it dozens of times in his dreams, but that's because Sasuke had some sort of clinical problem. Dick problem. He should've known that going to that urologist would be a waste of time.
Sasuke dared himself a quick glance, only see Itachi loosening the tie around his neck and opening the top button on his shirt. Shit. He really had a nice neck.
"How about 'sandbagger'? Fit you better?" Sasuke snorted sarcastically. Why was he unable to shut up about the stupid swimming contest?
He heard Itachi sigh.
"So you think I let you win."
The young Sarutobi straightened his body, leveling his angry eyes with Itachi's mysterious gaze. His face was two inches from his, but Itachi didn't step back. He kept smirking.
(-what tempting lips-)
"You think it's funny? You think I can't take a real match?!"
"I'm afraid I didn't let you win, Sasuke."
"Bullshit."
Infuriated, Sasuke jostled past him to go grab a pair of oil bottles from the shelves, and when he returned to his initial position Itachi had to step back to avoid another shove.
"I had a cramp." He said, while Sasuke was pouring the liquid into the engine through a strainer.
"What?"
"I had a cramp in my leg." Itachi repeated. He stepped closer, brushing his clothed arm on Sasuke's bare torso. "I was in bad shape, for I haven't swum in almost 10 years."
He realized now that Itachi was practically talking to his ear, as someone from the other side of the garage decided to make use of a borer. His body seemed to have gained free will, since he found himself leaning to his touch, faintly brushing his oiled skin under his ribs on Itachi's suit jacket, in a way that would seem erotic in any other context.
"It was a fair win; however I acknowledge it was an unfair bet, which I beseech you to let me make up for it."
Sasuke even sustained his breath when Itachi's breath tickled in his cheek. He was feeling it again. The adrenaline rush in his belly, the itching in his groin. Like the feeling before bungee-jumping.
"How?"
"Let me treat you for dinner, at least."
A dinner? Just the two of them?
"As friends?"
Stupid question, stupid brain, stupid hormones.
"Whichever you prefer."
"Are you done?"
Shisui's unforeseen voice startled him, making him almost drop the empty oil bottle inside the hood. Itachi stepped aside while Sasuke clumsily screwed on the oil filler cap. For some reason he felt like he had almost been caught in his secret, and he didn't need a second glance to know that the Model-Slash-Actor wasn't at all pleased to find him deep-rooted in Itachi's natural seductiveness. Probably because Sasuke could have already finished the job if he wasn't too busy being melted by a certain someone's voice.
"I just need to check the level of the oil."
"You still haven't done it?!"
Avoiding ablaze eyes, Sasuke prepared to skirt the car towards the driver's seat, bowed head to prove his sorry. Shisui – once an innocent boy whose sudden fame sacrificed his character to general social hostility –halted the novice mechanic with a threatening glare when he tried to open the driver's door.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I need to start the engine to level the oil and-"
"Keep your filthy hands off my baby. I'll turn the car on."
"Fine." Sasuke grunted, and stepped back, head down.
Through the corner of his eye he caught Itachi watching them, with hands in his pockets and with a nonchalant expression. Whatever was happening between them, the minute that prick came, it disappeared.
After Shisui turned off the engine, Sasuke checked the oil level in the dipstick and place it back inside the hood. As soon as he closed the hood, Shisui stuck his head out of the window and called out Itachi, starting the engine again. Itachi nodded, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets. Yet when he passed by Sasuke, he stopped before him; he approached his ear and said:
"Tomorrow." Sasuke momentarily forgot breathing while Itachi's lips barely touched his earlobe, their chests practically touching. "I'll pick you up at 7."
Shisui's yell "Itachi!" followed by an angry honk snatched the seductive Uchiha out of Sasuke's petrified body. Itachi walked away to the car, and when the young Sarutobi remembered breathing again, he saw the Austin Martin leaving the garage at full speed.
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