A/N: just returned from Florida, back in depressing NYC again.

Warnings *please read*: explicit sexual content ahead. This is uncut and uncensored.

Beta: GoodMorningFlower, HUGE thanks for her amazing help and feedback.


Chapter Eight

Fever

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"...if another degree higher…hospital…"

"But he said no doctors!"

Noises. Thumping noises. Of footsteps like dancers whirling. Metallic noises, of pans and silverware raining down the counter. Sheets shuffle, springs creaking. Water glugging like waterfalls, like echoes from within the caverns.

"Hold his head."

"What's that?"

"Medicines…keep him up…"

"No." Growls. Baby cubs—purrs of defensiveness. "I'll eat it first…make sure…not poison…"

"It's not poison! It's not! Don't be a stupid kid!"

Hands. One, then three, and more, strumming a confident melody up and down his skin. Touches so cold and damp. The sheets, hot.

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-o-

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"Help me…off his shirt…"

"Gross. Sweaty Sasuke!"

"Horrid boy! This is good…go…fetch a clean one…"

Toppling up like coins in the air, tossing as atoms dividing and dividing. Atoms: millions wiggling. They bond…always bonding, and breaking, and bonding again. World floats and hovers, only to crash back down. Winded, slipping out again.

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-o-

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"What happened…parents?"

Voices. Carrying over like trains roaring at night. Intense one second, muffled the next. Then trains in tunnels. Muffled, then intense. Tunnels, then out, tunnels, then out again.

"They're…"

Pale light from the lamp, seeps into his eyes like diluted liquid gold. Every blink is a wince into his bones, and blurs chase to the edges of his vision.

"…dead…"

Arms dip heavily at his sides like unmovable rocks.

Stop Naruto. He shakes, wills to stand, only for fingers to twitch.

"When?" Sakura's voice. "How?"

"I was two. I don't remember. But they were…"

Sasuke reaches for the glass on the nightstand. Twitches evolve into one fluid motion.

"Older brother…don't know…dead…"

Her tone's of a person inches away from the treasure. "How?" she repeats.

"…tried to hurt…we…almost…"

The glass in his hands fires off like a missile. Crashes. Breaks. He pants hearing the sounds of rushing footsteps from the other rooms, padding so urgently, so suddenly.

"Sasuke!"

Her. Leaning over him, her rosy hairs grazing his forehead. Her poignant perfume stabbing, mawkish, and her fingers on his face. She strokes him: gentle.

"Get out."

Scarcely hears Naruto gasp, and Sakura's heart thudding violently. The clamor's unbearable.

"What?"

"Get out of my house Sakura."

She pushes him down. With her splayed hands connecting to his aching shoulders, forces him to lie down, forces him to bend his back…again…again…again…

"…you need to…"

Naruto has to see this. The widening gaze burns holes into his flesh and bones, fixating at him like before, like always.

"…rest," she says.

Failed. The island. Supposed to be theirs, guarded from intruders, and he couldn't protect.

"Right Naruto?"

Her smile cracks like the dawn. Especially when her rally wins, and Naruto's distant voice reaches with affirmation.

Cracks him. And he deflects her hands away, flicking off her touch.

"Leave."

A bolt flashes in her evergreen eyes. Deep sucks of her breath, honing in all the steam of passion. He could taste the brew of her simmering like spattering rain. She glances appraisingly at the charming audience—the innocent blond cherub eyeing her with admiration—and she unconsciously fixes her ruffled blouse. With an exhale, she floats back.

"I will," she tells him.

However, Sakura wins herself a knight in armor, as Naruto intervenes, jumping in with arms spread.

"Sasuke you jerk, she helped, she helped you—"

Air vacuums out, he turns in a daze…especially when she ruffles Naruto's hair. And that Naruto's leaning into her caresses—

"That's quite alright, Naruto. Thank you."

Anger's sublime, transient, the alarm's dead, the smoke's risen and dissipated. There was nothing left now. Nothing left to warn him; and she's still smiling. Jeeringly.

"Please don't leave us. Can't you stay?"

And he feels dizzy. Watching Naruto hug her sleek legs, like she was a saint. Only for her to collect interest later. And nausea, an intangible kind, roils his light head and struggling lungs—he clenches his fists. He wasn't guilty, and she wasn't innocent. Almost does he yell for the curtains to raise, for the show to stop. But she's laughing…waiting for him to break…

"No, no. That would be up to Sasuke. After all, he's in charge. You'll have to keep taking care of him."

"But if you want, you can sleep in my bed, Sakura-chan. I can stay on the couch!"

Still ruffling the shock of blond, Sakura shoots a smirk up at Sasuke.

"What an offer. I mean we certainly bonded these last hours," she says, voice thick and sour like cherry syrup. "But thank you. I'll decline."

Now, Naruto turns on him angrily. "See? See what you did!"

His head inclines forward, feeling his world dangling. Why would she help. Why would she….

"Well, I'll be off. Promise me you'll take Sasuke to the doctor?" When Naruto vigorously nods, Sakura smiles again. "Good. Walk me out, Naruto."

"Of course!"

No. Sasuke swings off the bed, clutching the wall for support. Heads turn to face him, and he faces back. Staring into her, searching them for mendacity, and daring her to move another inch. Daring her to continue.

At their grating clash, she raises her manicured hands to her lips in a worried gasp.

"Try to stay in bed, Sasuke. You're not well…"

"You want to be walked out?" He pushes past his brother, the dizzy spells bearing down. "I'll gladly help."

A shadow hovers over her arched brow. "Have some respect."

"Let me escort you out my house, professor."

The cloud on her expression thickens, and darkens. She's not smiling anymore.

"Take the week off. I don't want to see you until you've fully recovered." She inclines her head as if in thought. "And please visit a doctor. I already recommended to Naruto a physician nearby, you should visit."

He restrains the urge to push her out. Before she'll suck him dry, before she can see him collapse again. Before he falls to his descent, deeper and more jagged than rock-bottom, like gables of cold stone distorting the spine. In his destruction, she'll run to make a profit of the upbuild. But there's no upbuild. Only destruction, and a trail of smoke, and she's inhaling it like her cigarette, like his vulnerability's intoxicating.

And as she paces in front of him, putting a show of elegance and nymph's grace, she glances at him.

"When you return, I should want to give you the news."

This stops him from slamming the door in her face. Stops him lamely, in his track.

"What news?"

She walks backward, putting more distance, floating away from him in the corridor. He's not sure…if he's hallucinating. Her voice reverbs, tunes the air into a haunting melody, and the building feels abandoned. Feels hollow.

"When you return to me. I have some matter to discuss with you."

Gripping the frame for support, he levels a steady gaze. Although his lids droop in exhaustion, and she's gone into the elevators when he's sinking to the floors again.

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-o-

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He visits a doctor the following morning, paying bills he couldn't afford. But the pneumonia was serious, and Naruto was on the verge of a panic attack. Actually crying and trying to hide it too. And he paid for the tears to cease…with a credit card.

It was a waste of dough. Antibiotics, and some bupkis advice to stay and rest for a week. He would have recovered all the same. But Naruto acts like he was breaking a lifetime promise, by refusing medical treatment. Even threatening, should he die, Naruto would follow him…and Sasuke shivers and shrugs the declaration off as some joke.

He's missing school, and so very weak in bed. Very frail. Naruto even plays house maid, and he shamefully likes it. His kid brother dusting the nightstand, and changing the sheets—couldn't cook though, but would boil instant ramen, and spoon feed him. With chopsticks. Gently and slowly. The flavors taste bland, like salt and water, yet Naruto would smile so stupidly with affection, his mouth salivates.

"Yum! Bon appetite," cheers his kid brother, "my favorite flavor."

Halfway through this romantic session of Naruto plopping noodles into his mouth, Sasuke turns away.

"But Sasuke, you didn't finish."

His own voice's muffled by pillows. "You need to go to school. Tomorrow."

"No. I won't leave you."

"You can't miss a whole week. Too many absent days."

Naruto's growling. "I hate school. I hate it! I wanna be with you. I wanna take care of you."

"Don't use that word. Doesn't sound right on you."

"What word!"

"Hate."

Naruto makes a sucking noise in mocking.

"But you hate everything. Why can't I hate everything too?"

"Exactly. Let me be the one who hates for the both of us. You stay out of the hate business."

Laughter like chirping birds fills the air as Naruto massages him. "You're so funny Sasuke!"

His face is forced deeper into the pillow as Naruto's little hands knead into him. Yet still, he voices.

"I never want you misusing that word again. Hate. You don't even understand what it means."

Naruto stops with his ministrations. Sounding very strained. "Okay S'uke, you're sick right now. Don't wanna fight…I'll do whatever you say."

Slurping sounds fill the room as Naruto devours the unfinished ramen noodles. Sasuke falls asleep to the sound of it. Feeling so very content. Like he was sitting by the fire in the coziest home fathomable, and he felt so very safe and warm. The cackling and lapping of the kindles as Naruto talks and talks. As Naruto purrs and embraces him. The content rumbles transmit. He felt himself to be in one of the most perfect movies, a scene he always wished to be a part of: the iconic hearth of a home.

Sleeping…until waking up in another world.

Because as if by dream, Naruto rolls over, mounting him. Their bodies lying flush against each other. Vaguely, he feels the blankets being pulled down.

"You're sweating, S'uke."

He cracks an eye open, but his lids are so heavy. And the fever's ascending, again.

"Let me sleep, moron." His voice, husky with exhaustion.

Through eyes half-mast, he sees Naruto unflinching. Unflinching…and coldly stone-walling. Banners of wild resolve billow in the blue gaze.

"But you should take this shirt off," sly undertones, diluted with chuckles. "So sweaty…so gross..."

He's about to fire off, but Naruto pulls down the blankets all the way. Then starts to jerk at the hems of his perspired shirt, yanking it up with such a passion. Admittedly the cloth clings, very damp, much like a tainted straitjacket. And he lets Naruto undress him. Feeling dizzy, when his kid brother has him sit up for a moment, finally freeing him of this wet rag.

And just as he lies back down onto the couch pillows, Naruto straddles him again.

"Now how do you feel? Hm, hm?"

If only the dizzying, the whirling of the world—would stop, would quit him. Sasuke scarcely catches his breath.

"Like hell," he says. "Get off me."

Instead of obeying, Naruto wiggles his hips. Creating friction. Like hot wires to his nerve ends, snapping, tearing: electricity inside his bones, and he stiffens.

"Naruto…" he throws his head back, murmuring. "What are you doing…"

"Distractin you."

"Enough with—"

But Naruto swoops like a swift bird, stealing their lips together.

Muscles in his jaw spring to life, twitching, and his hands. Where are his hands? They felt…like two balloons, he couldn't really feel. Only his dry, painfully chapped lips against puckered, supple ones. And he groans, at the glaze being smeared over his mouth—he couldn't rip away—like some sweet frosting. Soothing. Naruto's lips. It was so good, and he was so sure…

The alarm. Time to wake up—was he—

Squirming, Sasuke angles his face away, to break apart. The alarm, he needs to shut it off. Wake up. But his hands floating at his sides—inflating, filling with air…he couldn't lift up, even.

"You taste blah," says Naruto, lapping at his cheeks.

Hackles rise. The both of them. Especially as Naruto nips across his jawline, in a drawl.

"I said get off me."

The torrenting air in his arms, travels to his throat. Words leaves like winds, a vacuum: rendering him weak, powerless.

"Wicko good, you taste." Naruto's tongue runs more wildly. "I wonder…"

He winces. The sparks along his flesh, when Naruto strokes his sides, when he feels soft fingers drifting in curiosity. And a small mouth hovers over his tautening abs, every breath, every hot puff provoking the blood inside him. He doesn't want this. He doesn't. Shivering as bruises form. As Naruto nibbles across his damp, heated chest, circling around, capturing runnels of sweat between teeth. The teeth, they scrape and tickle. Excavating and tasting, so full of desire: and it transmits. Especially when Naruto lets his canines graze over the glistening expanse, choosing where else to mark.

Then he catches the flash in Naruto's eyes. Like terrifying lightning, ready to strike.

"How you taste, here."

Jolt after jolt…losing…kiss after kiss…

"And here."

The flushing, the fever, he's panting. "Naruto…stop…stop right now."

Suckling the tightened nub, Naruto blinks up without word. Such clear irises of cornflower blue, perfectly innocent, yet flickering with mischief. Until his kid brother releases the hardened flesh from a vacuuming mouth, with a plop.

"Stop what?" Another bolt of lightning across the sky. "This?"

His knees, they jerk up in violent reflex. As soon as Naruto reclaims the throbbing points, sweeping licks over and over like a loyal pet. Unconditionally loving and laving him, and he arches to the attentions, the lavish caresses, suckles, all seeping with burning ardor. Naruto devours, each gentle sip swinging his heart like a pendulum, a harsh metronome beating in his head. Like a storm buffeting. And he sinks into whirling madness, into dunes of hot sand—unreal—how the fervent temperature's eating faster at his consciousness, faster than he can breathe out:

"Lower."

Obeying, Naruto slides a moist trail south. Soft susurrations, escaping.

"Here?"

Lower, and lower. He's pleading, not with words. Never with words. The ache between his legs pulsates so heavily, he's writhing.

"What about…here."

Naruto's sopping wet mouth leaves so much dribble. Tingling like frizzing seltzer, glistening over his navel. Tremors incinerate between his vertebrae, and he lifts up his hips. Pushing at the round bum mounted over his hardness. Immediately earning a gasp from his kid brother, who's gripping at his thighs. Yet still he rocks up then down: slowly, absently, and uncontrollably. At once he feels Naruto's fists dig into his sides, as if not to be knocked off.

Ringing. Rolling like a phone call, a line. And Sasuke cracks his eyes open, but there's no alarm to answer. Only his racing heart, beating in excitement and in terror at once, tearing him apart.

"I have this sometimes too." Naruto pats at the clothed erection pressing up, rock-hard. "Never lets me pee when I needa! How do you get rid of it?"

His head's thrown back, missing the glazed eyes—staring at him expectantly—and another growl escapes him.

"Get the hell off me."

"But Sasuke—"

The ringing worsens. And blood's roaring, propelled so violently in his veins like jets. He's about to roll off the couch to escape this mind-numbing prison…this torture….of his coiling, needy body, being devoured by lips so perfect. This nightmare. He reaches to spin to the floor.

"—you have to be my prisoner. You said."

Until the patting hands of his kid brother follows a rhythm of sexual cadence. Caressing his straining arousal in strokes, assuring and promising to please. And he gasps agonizingly.

"Don't Naruto. Don't."

"But this is what you want!"

The ringing blocks out his stuttering moans. They escape his swelling lips—intensifying to quick rapid breaths. Dizzy. And his hands still floating up, useless, as if invisible bands tied him, binding. While the melody and sounds of his satisfaction encourages Naruto—who tugs at the bands of his trousers.

"Shouldn't I take this off?"

Invisible shackles, and now a gag in his throat. As if strapped to the cushions beneath him, he wriggles to no avail, failing to cease the hands which roam. The waistband's lowered and the nudity hurts—his own naked, pale flesh—blooming beneath his vision, and he forces his eyes shut. And the ringing blocks out the words. Words Naruto's saying, but he can't hear. The sirens clamor, and lights: red, orange, violet…gleaming past and tints the darkness. Rendering him damp, icy around his frame. Only to feel Naruto's curious fingers squeezing and touching, brushing arrays of caresses. The anticipation kills, murders his control—slashes at all sense, he bucks wildly. Shudders run through, barely swallows the horrific moans, ragged gasps ripping from him instead.

"How about here?"

Soft, unbelievably soft, dainty hands wrap over him. The huskiness in Naruto's high-pitched voice thickens, as the strokes go from gentle, sparse, to confident intensity. Hands he held, kissed, and protected—now roaming in the nether regions, playing. Some game, another game. He's letting. Letting. As Naruto carelessly rubs a thumb over the weeping slit, relishing the reactions from his older brother. The gaze of wavering blue flashes and widens, when his raw moans overcomes the creaking of the couch.

And he chokes back the pained strident breath, threatening to escape, upon facing the mirrors beholding him. Eternally fixating up at him, Naruto's eyes: showing his reflection vividly…and humiliation drills…as if the whole world watches him succumb.

"You're my prisoner now, Sasuke, remember?"

Flames of red devours his face, and he arches up into the fondling grasp. Pathetic, he grinds his teeth, over the edge and pathetically needing more.

"Just stop…stop…"

Even as he pleads through the wound in his chest, pain possessing and hurting—he spreads his knees apart. Sensations strong, near demonic and savage—smoke thick, can't think, and he thrusts up: again and again. And to appease his frantic urgency, Naruto lowers wholly.

Lips, like soft flush petals, falls to his aching need. Lapping unsure, then steadily strumming more confidently as Naruto licks over the throbbing head; soon swallowing him into a warm cavern. Heat ravages mercilessly and he raises his hips in surrender to the first wild wave of pleasure. His desperation, has Naruto laughing. Not the usual beatific giggles, but dark, mischievous chuckles, rumbling like purrs over his arousal. And the pudgy cheeks—he so often kissed, before tucking to bed, his baby brother—they blush and distend animatedly, smearing with his pre-come. The lewd sight has him screaming, stricken notes of terror and pleasure; yet Naruto envelopes more of his length, pale blond lashes fluttering in cherubic playfulness.

"Why? You like this." Hot puffs blow over his leaking erection, teasing. "Does it really feel so good?"

The dark fire consumes. Raging furiously between the vaults and uncontrollable. Shackles melt. And heat devours: free, he's free. And the flames of pitch black prickles his hands to wakening. Leaning up, he runs bidding fingers through golden hair, holding Naruto there, anchoring them past the point of no return. Longing more. To see Naruto taking him inch by inch. Whips of pressure welds up, through the dark swirling pit of hell as he coaxes himself into the mouth agape, slowly. Ever slow, ever drawling. Revels the feel of Naruto's pulsing lips, streaming with saliva, enveloping, swallowing, and suckling him to completion.

And he's deaf to his own ragged gasps. Deaf to Naruto's choking, strangled noises. When his back lands against the shattering world below—and rocking up into the cradle of wet, warmth.

Sirens cut in the gravity, vociferous and chaos spins.

Yet still, Naruto suckles with devotion, fighting to please. Small, sticky hands dig into his naked, grinding hips, as if to calm his frantic need, his desperation. But the shrill hues and octaves, blends into cacophonous storms: inside, out. Raving this room and icy sweat drowns like pounding monsoons: the heat in his core, tides of ecstasy, sweeping before dissolved by damp terror—

"Why Naruto…why…"

Rushes of breaths, forces out of him and halfway his voice cracks. Feeling his spine bend drastically like a branch about to snap, gasping and imploring for Naruto—who commits with unbound attentions.

"Because you let us."

Bucking up, a shuddering release racks through him as the last bands of restraint snap; he spills himself into the moist mouth. And his come seeps out the corners, dripping stickily over the soft round jaw. Dripping, and dripping.

Naruto tumbles back, brows furrowing, face flushing with smothered disdain.

"I hate you."

The heat disappears, only cold sweat. Sasuke sits up to reach forward, but Naruto crawls further away.

"I'll never forgive you."

I hate you, hate you, I hate y—

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Sasuke bolts up. Haggard pants. He's in bed, alone.

Dream. Just a dream.

I hate you.

The ringing: his alarm. Shaking on the nightstand.

never forgive you…

And from across the room, Naruto's sprawled in pajamas, snoring.

"Fuck," he breathes. Fumbling for the off switch, slamming the thing shut.

He hits the mattress again, as the dizzying spell possesses. And when he catches his breath, he repeats to himself. It was a dream. And dreams aren't meant to be taken literally, he assures himself. A shudder runs through him, but the end of it was the worst. How could that possibly mean anything but…

"S'uke?" the snoring crescendos into a schleeep and hitches. "You said the F-word."

A genuine slipup but nonetheless unnerving how Naruto plays patrol. With that mocking grin.

"Get up. School," he commands.

A rumble or two, as Naruto coughs. "Do I hafta?"

With the last ounce of his strength, he affirms and tells his kid brother to dress.

When Sasuke moves to dress up too, Naruto launches off like a canon.

"I can walk to the bus myself. I'm grown up enough to do that!"

"No. You're not."

And he sways to his closet. Shuffling the racks for his trousers and a shirt.

"I am too. Wacko grown-up. And you need to stay in bed! Doctor said so!"

"The fact that you say wacko, and made up words…no Naruto. You're a kid, accept that."

"Hey, hey. Geniuses make up new words all the time, wicko, woo-woo, kpowzer time! You want me to be boring and say what everyone else says? Fine. Hello, my name is—Mr. Naruto Roboto—" voice dropping as low as possible. "Oh hello, yes I am a very grown up person."

Sasuke slips into a shirt and he sits down to catch his breath.

"Yes, yes very educated too. Quickly Mr. Naruto, what is five times five!"

While Naruto talks to himself, Sasuke moves to wiggle into his pants, and the belt was a hassle when his vision spins.

"Twenty five. But because I am a genius, I know that in another universe, the answer is fifty two." Naruto jumps onto the mattress like it was a trampoline. "Oh why? Why is it fifty-two and not twenty-five, Mr. Naruto?"

Wrapping a scarf round his neck, Sasuke screws his eyes shut as a wave of nausea attacks.

"Because everything in this universe is opposite. Everything is backwards. So what is twenty-five is actually fifty-two, and that means really…there's more than one answer for the same problem!"

Then as he puts on his socks, Naruto hops off the bed, kneeling on the floor.

"Oi, Sasuke! Let me put on your socks," demands his kid brother.

Before Sasuke could protest, they're snatched out of his hands, and Naruto flashes a grin.

And as Naruto works this task, the rant's continued. Dressing him and still on the litany.

"But mister Naruto-Roboto can you explain—in this universe of opposite-likeness—describe to me Sasuke."

Sasuke grunts, and leans back. Almost tuning out the rant. Naruto always went on these "one-man" shows. Usually he sits back and listens but now he feels effectively disjointed. Regions of him where the weather's burning with fury, cold with regret, and a tightening grip over his heart…vestiges of the dream…

"Well in this opposite world, Sasuke's the kid, and I'm the older one. And I always take care of him. But then when I'd get sick, he'd put on my socks. So you see people, just like the math problem, there's two answers happening at the same time…you just have to be a genius to realize that simple fact—"

"Naruto would you shut up already."

A loud grin rages, as Naruto inclines his head to hide the smile.

"It's Mr. Naruto. But okay. Whatever you want. No fighting!"

It was only when he drops Naruto off at the bus stop that he realizes—

His ten-year-old brother just described a consequence of the multi-verse quantum electrodynamic theory of parallel universes.

And kids this age don't even…conceptualize something so abstract like 'the universe', did they really? But Naruto did. It wasn't shallow. These wonderments keep him steady enough to make it to the elevators. Scarcely sinking into bed, still feeling so proud. And maybe it wasn't "ingenuity", but the playful imagination, the creativity, the innovation in Naruto, that he so admires…

The dampening and the sweats worsen. And he's hacking, and the medicine isn't helping. He might have thrown up the pills, too. Fifty a pop, what a waste of dough.

While in bed, he calls Shikamaru for a favor. His old roommate back in freshman year. They shared a mutual understanding and some deep seeded appreciation that was never really articulated in words—but rather in chess games, to pass the time. Now he's calling, asking if he'd pick up Naruto from school. Surprisingly, Shikamaru agrees saying he's never had the chance to repay the debt from the one time, although notes of skepticism carry over the line.

Couldn't let Naruto walk home alone: he's making sure his kid brother's not going to wander off or get lost, or worse. A crazy driver, a man, a silhouette…

And in this manner, he sleeps. He rests easier.

Shikamaru rides a car, kind of beat up about the edges, but sleek. Soon Sasuke sees a sequence of images, like some trance, he's riding his own car, and it's not beat up like Shikamaru's. It's not even an average sedan. Something adventurous like a hatchback, and yellow because Naruto would want to always be inside. Such a stupid thought he cringes, but still the open road, and his hands on a wheel…the details slip, it was just that feeling of the air beating through the windows on a highway, that has him breathing in relief.

And at three in the afternoon, just as he's rousing from an exhausting sleep, Naruto and Shikamaru clamber into the apartment.

Naruto catapults into his bed like some hyper, wild pet.

"Hey Sasuke, hey! I love your friend Shikamaru! And guess what? He's my friend too now."

He looks to the doorway, and sees Shikamaru leaning on the frame, crossing arms.

"And, he took me to the store. So I brought you real food instead of cup noodles."

His eyes thin, fixing to Shikamaru.

Yet, Naruto nuzzles into him. "So I'm gonna go put stuff away in the fridge. And make you dinner! Tomato au la salt. That's just French for sliced tomatoes with salt, you're gonna like it!"

And running out the bedroom, Naruto exits, but you could still hear the shuffling in the kitchen.

"How much?" he asks Shikamaru.

"Your kid brother bought it. I thought you gave him the money."

Sasuke freezes. No. He never gave Naruto anything. Not for five filled bags of produce and groceries…

Still keeping distance, Shikamaru continues, "How long do you think you'll be out of commission?"

"Friday. Just until Friday."

"Alright."

And with that Shikamaru leaves the apartment, saying goodbyes.

Though before he could digest the meaning of this surprise shopping spree, Naruto waltzes in. With some air. An air of an 'aristocrat', holding up a silver platter with…sliced tomatoes.

"Call me butler Naruto. At your service, lord Sasuke!"

The tone, the posture, and even the sober expression, really has Sasuke turning away. Why does he feel so embarrassed? No one was here.

Naruto straightens out his imaginary 'whiskers'. "For the first course: tomato au la salt!"

"Naruto…"

"And the second course: fine cut corn chips with tomato sauce. A very exquisite dip!"

"Naruto."

"Yes my lord?"

A tremor runs up his spine. "What did you and Shikamaru do? Tell me."

"Oh you mean Count Shikamaru? He's a wonderful wack—I mean a wonderful chap! We rescued beasts from the alleys and—"

"Stop talking like that. Speak normally."

Naruto performs the most elegant curtsey he's ever seen.

"As you wish, my majesty-lord-and master Sasuke!"

Another shiver up his spine and his heart races.

Snapping up, Naruto sends a shit-eating grin. "I'm not gonna tell you, 'cause it's a secret, jerk."

"Secret?"

"Don't talk anymore, you need to eat and rest!" intercedes Naruto, who sets the platter on the nightstand. "And I'm gonna feed you and then sleep with you. I'm your cuddle'mon."

"Cuddle'mon?"

"You know Pokémon?"

"No I don't."

Naruto draws a painful sigh. "Well let's pretend I'm a monster that's meant for cuddling. I'm your cuddle'mon."

From butler…to a cuddle monster. The changes are hard to keep up with.

"I'll feed myself, dummy. Go do your homework."

Instead of obeying, Naruto brandishes a fork with a piece of tomato on its prongs.

"How does it taste? Delicious and exquisite yes?" asks butler Naruto. Not cuddle monster.

And it's as he's chewing these sliced grape tomatoes, that he remembers a chilling fact. He quickly swallows.

"Where did you get the money to buy this? My wallet?"

Naruto freezes. Eyes widening. "No I would never just take from your wallet! Not without asking—"

"I don't care. I just want to know."

"No I didn't!"

"Then. How."

As a defense mechanism, Naruto laughs.

"Now, Naruto. Answer me."

Naruto laughs harder, sniffling and slapping his knees.

"What's so funny?"

Chuckles, and chuckles, and corners of blue are so damp with mirth.

"I have a piggy bank, silly. And let's just say I'm saving up for a very big cause."

"What? I've never seen this piggy bank—"

Roaring in laughter, his kid brother sets the fork down. "You said piggy bank! Sasuke said it! Say 'piggy', again! So funny, you're so funny!"

"—and how are you even filling it up?"

Suddenly the laughter dies. Like a ball of flame tossed in an ocean of ice. The fire dies.

"From where are you collecting the dough?" he asks again.

Naruto averts his gaze, and even lies on the bed beside.

"Hello? I asked you a question."

Now his kid brother turns to face the opposite way, showing his back.

"What the hell is going on?" His voice's shows panic, veins twitching at his temples. "Just tell me."

"You'll just get mad. And you're sick. I don't want to talk about it now."

He's not even thinking, his arm lassoes around the waist, drawing his brother in.

"You tell me anyway."

Naruto rolls in his grip, turning to face him. Even nuzzling a wet nose into his chest.

"Fine," murmurs he, brows knitting. "I play a lot of…games. Dice games."

This is a joke. "What do you mean dice games?"

"For money. I play. And I've never lost. Ever. I always win, too."

"Where? With who? With what?"

"At school, during recess behind the pillars so none of the teachers will see. Play with my classmates and I bet my lunch money—"

"Unbelievable—"

"But Sasuke I always win! So don't feel bad! Sometimes I make twenty bucks a day—"

"Do you know how much trouble you'd get in? Do you?"

Naruto quails. "That's if I get caught. But I won't. I swear I won't."

"Idiot. You stupid little kid," he grits out, earning a huff. "Do you think those sore losers, the money you win off them, they're not just going to peach to the principal? And then I'll have to walk into the office and grovel for them not to expel you. Not to suspend you. Just so your record won't get stained."

"You're rig—"

"So stop with it."

As if to appease, Naruto hugs tightly. "Sheesh, okay. I'll stop."

And his pride bleeds, because…

"Why? Why the need to collect money?"

Naruto flushes and buries into him. "Just wanna help. Okay? And my talent is in my luck. You shoulda seen how I cream everyone at the games."

"Luck is not a talent, moron."

A 'tch' sound hisses. Naruto squeezes tightly, before easing up again.

"Yeah except thinking you're lucky all the time is hard work, alright? It's like believing in yourself twenty-four seven…and yes, Sasuke, that is a talent."

At this, he inclines forward, zooming into the defiance.

"No more gambling, dummy. You don't need to 'help', just the sound of it is stupid. Because I have everything in control."

"Even if that's true," returns Naruto, "I'd still want to help. To do something. And I'm not gonna hang around being useless!"

He wants to say 'you'll never be useless', and express confidence of his control. But just then his teeth starts to chatter. Chills from his toes, to his hairs, to his frame. Clacking, and vibrating. Like he's sitting in a mound of snow, and the blizzard rains through his skin—into him entirely. Waiting for a train, waiting for something in the long distance, to appear. To pick him up and steal him away from the ice. But it was snowing very hard, and he couldn't wait so long. Wants to disappear, really. From the cold. So he turns away.

Only for Naruto to tackle him wholly. Little body sprawling over his blanketed form.

"Shh, sh, I'll warm you up, S'uke."

Naruto's kissing him along the shaking edges, and as he's breaking, vaguely feeling the sopping wet lips…feathering along his jaw, his temples, and then his forehead…

He remembers his horrific dream from this morning….and the icy damp terror climaxes into his stammering breaths.

"N-Naruto, go away."

Small fists knead onto his shoulders, trailing lower between his shoulder blades. Numb, comfortably numb, but still shaking. Even as Naruto's mouth finds lodgment into his damp neck, he arches into the touch.

"Sh! You need a massage…you need me…"

Falling over the precipice, in anticipation. Almost falling to the tracks because the light…the train's lights glare, though smothered by smoke. Coming. He sees it coming.

"Did you take the medicines?" asks Naruto into his ear.

Still shivering, he shakes his head, so Naruto has him swallow more pills. And the pain, the aches, the sickness, all of that's in the burner. Of anticipation. The light was nearing, more and more. He could feel, smell, and taste the bright vivid like liquid fire.

"You never let us, anymore."

Naruto's words…rubs. Over his own mouth. Their lips, sealing, pressing. When did they start? The kiss roams and a warm tongue probes, swipes. And all he sees is the light, in the former distance, now consuming. Enveloping and completely overwhelming—a star dissolving at his flesh. So hot in the core, but freezing around the corners, and then…

"See? You stopped shivering."

He feels Naruto straddle him. And his head lolls back in feverish stupor, yet his arms are pinned to his sides. Vaguely feeling Naruto's fingers dig into his wrists.

"Quit fighting. Just lemme love you."

Sasuke clenches his jaw, but the hinges are loose. So he swallows instead and tips his head back on the pillows, spreading. Hair splaying. Let. Just let. Need. Just needs. He sighs and inhales the intoxicating clouds of sweet perfume. Without even raising an eyelash, he tastes, breathes the bubbling intent sharing between.

"Stop this," he says.

No one would believe he meant it. Chords quivering indecisively: you could hear deep undertones of need, fringing with huskiness. Threatening to tip over to octaves of hunger. And he knew not to blame the pneumonia.

"Stop what?" Feels the words rumble through his skin, as Naruto kisses his neck. "This?"

He finds himself leaning into the caresses. Pulling like magnetism. Every quiet hackle rises to draw as much heat in.

"I'm warming you." continues Naruto, "the way you warm me."

Bothers him. Hot. The passion rages furiously—like inextinguishable embers beneath smothered ashes…he had so stomped viciously, time and time again, tried to put out.

the way you warm me…

A shaky breath passes. How Naruto returns the lavish affections…how his kid brother expertly presses lips along his neck—pacing so perfect. One kiss drifts, the next sucks, and the breath between says 'love'. Drives him mad, drives him insane, his body tenses, and the chords strum with resonating finality:

"You're not understanding."

The grip over his wrists tightens as Naruto scoffs. Plays the adult, forcing a charade of a grownup with a straightening posture.

"I understand. What's there not to? I like to kiss you, and I like it when you kiss me."

An echo, of him, of them, and he's whirling their positions.

"Exactly."

With Naruto lying beneath, wriggling in confusion. "So then…why…why not let us?"

The why plucks the taut string that is his patience. Magnetism intensifies and the spiteful, bitter notes ring through him: put Naruto in his place. Show just why. Show and pour out this well full of desire. Topple it over. Empty and dump it forever behind. And he parts the crossed legs with a bold, slow knee. Lowers himself in a sigh, while propping up, keeping the boy spread under him.

Naruto's brows tremble, completely disoriented. "Just…I…I mean…we—"

"What is it you want…Naruto?" he asks into an attentive ear, earning a shiver. His voice puffs, lush and strokes, despite the void, whirling. "What do you want me to do?"

The amount of stammering escaping Naruto, reaches an unmatched threshold.

"S-Sasuke I…you'll just say n-no…"

With vague satisfaction, he watches Naruto turn rubicund, and how lips swell into cherry red from nervous biting. Such perfect vulnerability, perfect naiveté. The portrait: a mirror of his self. And Sasuke hears the pulse roaring from his kid brother's temples, the heartbeat thrumming madly as his own, when he runs his mouth along the frames. Tracing with his own lips the soft contours.

"Tell me," he breathes.

Gulping, Naruto blinks before flickering with mushy, yet crazy fixation.

"Can you…can you kiss me like you did—like that morning?"

Driving his knee further between Naruto's legs, Sasuke leans forward. But the motions—like a leap into the sea— swims further into his madness. He seals their lips together, at first casually. Nonchalantly. As if he touches flesh to flesh with a faceless entity. He's proud for a second.

Until a storm, the relentless tornado of Naruto's little moans and gasps ruin him. His forced numbness shatters. He feels everything. Everything. The twitching underneath him, how his kid brother arches up to keep this sopping wet connection—of their lips grinding—intact. How a shy tongue laps, asking to repeat the kiss they shared that dreadful morning.

And sensations fires at his walls like an army of merciless soldiers. The soft, wet sounds of such a vulgar kiss probe his head, possessing his blood in roars. No defense, no more fending. He's shutting his eyes tightly.

you need me

Time slips between his damp fingers. Grasping, handfuls of the blankets…hearing…seeing…

let us…

Stairs they ascended, spiraling up. Rich, everything had been rich and luxurious. Velvet and violet—curtains billowed as their winds tailed them, storming after and into home. Itachi was waiting atop the throne at the very peak, smiling.

"You won't open the door!" Naruto gasps, wetness of mirth lining the bluest eyes.

After the breathless complaint, Naruto knocks for entrance with a more demanding flick of the tongue. Opens. He opens like his whole being unfolds, a bud in bloom under fostering sun, under the light. The barrier between dimensions—removed harshly, abruptly—for the crash feels interstellar. Destructive. Yet…

Freeing. Feels the air whirr round. Warm, intense winds. Just how they rode on his bicycle, running through the birches and oaks with Naruto clinging from behind. Strapped to his waist. And driving by the lake, they roared when he did his tricks. Naruto wanted to be a superstar bike racer—and then, he let small hands wrap over his own, letting his kid brother 'steer'. Just to see the dream come true. Laughter blowing back the long strands of grass. They barreled through the paths, manicured trees flanking them, until Itachi called. Someone waited, cared, and called—for them—

"And I miss it. Please…Sasuke…"

The words massage his lips, and Sasuke moans, his voice so raspy from travel. Where, how far?

"Miss what," he plays their mouths to graze. "What do you miss?"

"How it was before," answers Naruto, in a whisper.

One arm of his collapses at last. He's breaking. The other elbow straightens. Falling, and he's not hovering on the blurred line, but crossing it. Hardly keeping over, Sasuke buries into the groove of a flushed neck, sucking absently an inviting piece of flesh. Absently: how could that be, how could this be…reflexive. But the sound of Naruto's short, shallow gasps deafens reason, entering his veins like anesthetic. He anchors to this connection, hearing the blankets shuffle as he leans over, impossibly closer.

"Like…that," mumbles Naruto, squeezing eyes tightly as if in embarrassment.

One glance earns him an enticing portrait—of his kid brother clenching fists, shivering, and blushing to the ears.

"You want this?" he asks lightly.

Feels Naruto nodding vigorously, even writhing under him. Especially as his lips hover like a cloud threatening to storm, any second. The percussions of their heartbeats syncing and adding, and he kisses every inch of soft flesh. The mad melody of his pulse has him lapping and biting with gradating urgency. Can't stop. Lightning cackles and his hands roam lower, finally squeezing the life out of the narrow hips—now exposed for his pleasure. Because he raises the hems of the plain white tee, inviting himself to taste more…the dulcet laughter…and he slips.

"Just want you to love me again…S'uke…"

The soft murmur scarcely reaches, and is drowned by the vulgar sucking noises, ill manners. He can't control. Nuzzling slightly, before he grazes. Even as Naruto lets a startled gasp, he continues lower with the world left behind. Fever heats him hot and high, soaring further down, stealing the feel of Naruto arching to his mouth. The feel of Naruto grasping on to him by the hair…or trying to…

"Keep going?" he prompts, keeping his lips against the heat.

"Please…"

I'll never forgive you…

Blood's burning, pressure's building. But the sweat running at the back of his neck, cools. Like the faint rain drizzling, when they lied on wet grass. Upon the highest peak, the tallest hill. Spread without care. Down to their fingers and tendons, watching and counting all the stars. Leaning together, and sometimes Naruto heard a wolf's howl from the distance. And he told his kid brother he'd fight off anything: always protect. And the trust strengthened him. Trust. The way he trusted in Itachi.

"S-Sasuke…I…"

Riding up the loose sweatpants, his face burns, lapping at the bare thighs. Such soft, incredibly warm flesh. His. Only his. And scavenging fingers adrift in chaos, anywhere, as he bites gentler yet closer. Hearing Naruto bumble in nervous, mortification. One hand finally finding the clothed arousal that his kid brother's so ashamed for. One grope, a squeeze, and Naruto's roaring in pleasure.

hate…I hate you—

He freezes. Storms blaze out—turbulent smoke clearing. Too fast. Nausea creeps—

No. What is he doing, what is he letting. Questions on speakers, booming and destroying sense. Hate and disgust, and he pulls away. And Naruto misinterprets his grimace as rejection. But the exhaustion festoons like creepers whipping his arms down, and he rolls onto his back. Hates himself, for the spiking lusty need—the weight of the dream…and he clutches his gut, as if he's spilling blood.

"Why'd you stop?"

At the drowning silence, Naruto crawls over, and fits into his arms like a little spoon.

"You said we couldn't kiss anymore…but I really…want to because—it feels right…"

That's when, inching up, Naruto navigates a puckered mouth to his.

But he cups the flushed cheeks, and veers their faces apart.

"Stop this. Stop. I'm your older brother, Naruto."

"You…said…that already but—"

"But nothing."

Naruto quakes with stubborn upset, straddling him in uproar.

"I like you. You don't like me?"

"This is a mistake."

Hurt, you could hear, the diving and breaking of the surface—the film of the peaceful lake, shattering. Raining.

And he's close to throwing up. "A mistake," he repeats thickly. "Never again."

"No it's not. You just don't believe me. But I mean it, I like you."

And Sasuke lets go, feeling his vision blur. Before he could open his mouth, Naruto cuts in with another remark.

"I don't like anyone else. There's no girl I give my chocolates to on white day. And someday, I want us to marry—"

"That's unacceptable." He wants to sound harsh, like thunder, but his voice's heady and thin. And the more he hears Naruto's naive defense, the more his stomach churns, violently seizing him.

"We're brothers," he grits out, again. "When you were six, the declarations weren't unusual…but now…you're ten, you should understand already."

Naruto's lips tremble, and eyes flash.

"I do understand! I like you, more than just—"

"You won't finish that sentence," he dares. "Get off me."

With a stricken expression, Naruto dismounts. "Sasuke I—"

"Let me sleep in peace."

And with that, Sasuke pulls up the covers to hide his shattering resolve. The holes in his walls. And now he realizes, why his vision's blurring. And he buries his damp face into the pillow, turning completely away.

But then Naruto booms with sudden determination, startling him.

"Can you at least answer one question? Just one."

He doesn't answer, but he's sure his heart's thudding. Booming in this pervading silence. Until Naruto finally voices.

"When you said that time we couldn't kiss…or sleep together…is it because you don't feel the same?"

One breath's allowed before Naruto presses on, unable to withstand any pauses.

"You only see me as…just a brother? Or are you just saying all that because—"

"No."

He feels Naruto clench up, the mattress shivering slightly.

"I wasn't just saying it," he explains, muffled by the pillow, but then he peels up a little. "I mean it. And I'm asking you to forget, to stop for good."

"Forget?" barks Naruto, slamming his fists on an innocent pillow.

"It's wrong. Very wrong, and you know that—"

"My feelings are wrong?"

Our feelings. Sasuke cringes at the internal correction. "Why are you making me say what's obvious?"

"I—I just love you! Is loving," cracks in the voice, a whimper escapes. "Is loving wrong?"

"I'm tired," he says, still facing away.

He hears Naruto gulp for air. "You don't feel the same…and I'm wrong…"

His body is tormented, numb, so very dazed. But he was never more awake, more jolted than now. Pumping blood, and the roaring pulse in his ears, as the lake rains in disturbance. Over him, in panging bullets and pellets. Awakening. Raining and raining.

"And her?"

That puts him in sudden alert. He whips back to angle a sharp appraisal.

"Sakura is nobody to me."

Not believing, Naruto continues in a rage, which soon breaks halfway into a hiss.

"She's your—she's—more than a friend."

"She's not even a friend, stupid."

"You're lying!"

Flinging two pillows to the floor as raging punctuation, Naruto's acerbic tone chills the room.

"She told me how you do things for her—you go see her all the time too—you're her…" Naruto's scowl turns to a bitter frown. "Her boyfriend."

The conversation's outrageous and far off. And too fucking wrong to humor or even consider.

"Go pick up the pillows," he dismisses, before turning away under the blanket.

Blond brows knit together, and Naruto's tense like a land mine ready to explode.

"So you are. I didn't believe when she said—I didn't for a second—but now it makes sense…she's pretty…she's nice…" The pitch cracks and voice strangles. "But why? Why did you never tell her about me? She didn't even know I existed—"

Cadences of contrite and pleading, so heavily contrasting with the prior anger…that Sasuke looks up in surprise.

"—that you'd kiss her, but not me. I'm not important to you like she is…"

Even though he feels the mattress dip as Naruto fetches the pillows, the rambling continues, a symphony soon to climax.

"Because I'm just a kid…but I'm not. I'd do anything for you, does that make me a kid?"

"Naruto—"

"What!"

Their eyes meet finally, with Naruto panting and huffing like a dragon.

And the panic floods, especially when Sasuke reaches out only to be smacked away. The hurt spikes through the icy numbness, transmits and he clenches his fist.

"She said I kissed her?" he asks, hardly keeping the anger out his voice. "What else did she say?"

The bitter frown in Naruto sinks and impresses deeper.

"So it's true."

The 'yes' at the tip of his tongue's like thorns, and plugs him from voicing. Naruto can see the affirmation, and winces. He winces too, the wound spreading.

"You really…" Choked back, tightening high-pitched voice—Naruto bursts with hoarse need. For an admission. For anything to hold on to. "…and you want to forget…and you don't like me back…"

Sasuke feels his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to refute. Say how untrue that was—except…except it's better this way. Wasn't it? His guts roil and the fever worsens—into delirium—hears trains of voices. Dark voices, light voices, Itachi's voice bearing down all at once. For this to stop, to continue and not bear the burden of this hateful love, to do whatever he pleases. In the end, he wavers like a white flag on the field. He couldn't. Mirrors behold him, blue and wet, because he's failing. Naruto can forget. He can forget. They could still be normal.

"Exactly, it's just as you say. And you're going to stop with this." He sits up, forcing the glare. Praying for effectiveness. "You'll get over it. You need to."

Unable to bear the answer, Naruto whirls forward, crestfallen. Placing the pillows back.

"Like one of your shows—" he continues, gearing nonchalance even waving a hand. "An episode every week. Passing phase. You'll find someone else to 'like'."

Now, Naruto jumps off the bed showing his back. Hunched, and taut with stress.

"Thought you knew me," haunting and full of reverb.

Breath's stolen, when Naruto finally looks over the shoulder, canines bared.

"You see a kid," grates out Naruto. "But at least I know what I want—I'll never give up or get over you."

He's not able to get a word out since Naruto storms out the room. Bolting and gone. The door…it creaks and sways leaving a gap to which he stares. So very close to shouting, for calling—for his kid brother to come back, return the light, the warmth. Feels the darkness close in. Throat tightens. And lids like heavy bars, pitch black swallowing his vision. Tasting vaguely the blood in his mouth, how deep he's bitten. To not kiss, or acquiesce.

Then he remembers…Sakura…her news…and he falls back, hits the mattress clutching at the sides.

.

.

.