AN: OK GUYS THIS IS GONNA BE REALLY FAST CUZ IM RUSHED AND STUFF RIGHT NOW BUT I LOVE OU SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE AND ILL SEE YO SOON! IK THIS IS SUPER SHORT, ILL MAKE UP FOR IT LATER! THANKS A WHOLE BUNCH FO THE LOVELY REVIEWS AND FOLLOWS I LOVE YOU GUYS TONS!

Surprise was the first thing that registered in Naruto's mind. Then everything else came crashing down on him. The weight of Sasuke's lean body pressed up against his, the soft way his silky locks tickled his jaw bone. How soft and full and tender his lips felt against his own. Naruto gasped slightly, winding his arms around Sasuke's back and yanking him closer. He applied the pressure against Sasuke's lips slowly, loving the way it made the man moan softly and clutch at the sides of his face.

Wait. This was Sasuke. This was a man. He was…

Wrenching away from the embrace, Naruto backed up against the wall quickly, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the panting raven.

"Sasuke," he began, his voice rough and low.

The dark-haired Uchiha did not lift his face, only waved his hand, as if shooing Naruto away.

"Sasuke, listen. I… I have a girlfriend." The blonde began, unsure of what to say or how to say it. "I don't like…"

Sasuke's head jerked up then, his face a mask of disgust. "Alright, Naruto. We all get it. You're not gay. You have a precious girlfriend, who you don't even bother to stay in the bed with after you've fucked her. Sure, you may draw pictures of me, may watch me with fucking crazy eyes, may kiss me back. But you're not gay." Sasuke put his hands up, backing off, his eyes filled with cold fire.

Naruto opened his mouth, then closed it again, overcome by the tingling sensation that was caressing his lips. His eyes suddenly snapped back towards Sasuke's and he felt an urge so deep it was almost painful bloom up inside of him. He watched the brunette step back, so he was inside the threshold of his room.

"I don't know what I even saw in you," Sasuke finally said, but there was no venom in his tone now. Just a sort of defeated sadness. "There is no allure in cowardice."

Then he shut the door.

oOo

Itachi tromped up the stairs as fast as he could, which, honestly, wasn't very fast. Halfway up he could hear voices, but couldn't specifically make out words. He struggled up a few more steps, his fist clutching the railing, before he finally reached the landing. Panting quietly, Itachi looked up to see Naruto standing outside his brother's room, his hands loose by his sides.

"Naruto," Itachi called, and the boy looked over, almost blindly, like he couldn't see, could barely hear. "Have you seen my brother?" Itachi knew it was a stupid question; of course his brother was in his room.

The blonde nodded slowly, pointing towards the door before he crumpled to the ground in a massive heap of tan muscles and blonde hair. He bent his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, burying his face inside the little wall of protection he had made.

Awareness washed over Itachi, and he sucked in his lip before he knelt next to Naruto. He noticed with a start that the younger Uzumaki was shaking.

"Naruto, what happened?" Itachi demanded, touching the other's shoulder.

"You should go talk to Sasuke," Naruto muttered into his arms, turning away from Itachi. The older Uchiha blinked once before he nodded and stood up.

"Do you want Kyuubi?" asked Itachi as he prepared to open the door. Naruto shook his head and tightened his hold on his bent knees. Itachi stared at the crumpled blonde a moment longer before he slipped quietly into Sasuke's room.

The room was dark and the only source of light was flooding gently in through the partially open blinds. The box fan was whirring on low in the corner of the room, and Itachi felt its gentle breeze as he stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him. He saw his brother on the bed and tried to hide his smile. He looked just like he had twelve years ago, when he was throwing an angry temper tantrum. He would run up to his room, slam the door, and throw himself on his bed. Then he would presume to lay out spread eagle across the bed and stare forlornly at the ceiling. Itachi grinned at Sasuke now, in the exact same position he had assumed all those years ago.

"Hey, little raven." Itachi said quietly, and Sasuke instantly shot up in his bed, his eyes wide. His hair was tangled and looked rumpled, as if tugging fingers had pulled through it multiple times.

"What are you doing here, Itachi?" Sasuke asked, but his tone lacked any venom, just a pained longing. Itachi sucked a deep breath in and sat down next to his little brother. He slung his arm over Sasuke's shoulder, tugging him closer until Sasuke's head fell against Itachi's shoulder.

"What's your problem?" Itachi finally asked. He felt a building dam rise inside of him, and he sucked it down with a quick breath. He had to hold it together. Sasuke took a shuddering breath and Itachi waited silently while he gathered up the strength to talk. Finally Sasuke sat up and rubbed at his eyes. When he took his hands away, his eyes were big and dark and oh so sad. Itachi felt pain prick at his heart and he reached out to nuzzle Sasuke's soft hair.

"I thought I was in love," Sasuke whispered, and his eyes, so big and deep, searched Itachi's, seeking answers he could not give. The older Uchiha blew out a big breath and chuckled softly, giving Sasuke a sad smile.

"You're just like Mom used to be, you know." He said, and watched as Sasuke's face took on even more pain. And a little bit of pride. "She was always walking around with those big, big eyes and her heart right on her sleeve." Itachi absentmindedly rubbed his forearm, staring at the pale skin that adorned his body. "She wasn't afraid to feel."

Sasuke frowned down at the bed, swallowed, and closed his eyes. "I kissed him. I kissed him, and he… He…" Sasuke growled and flopped back down on the bed again, his cheeks flushing in anger, two bright red spots on his face. "I don't even understand what I saw in him. He's… He's stupid and stuck in his ways. He's afraid of change and trying new things if he doesn't know there's a safety net waiting for him." Sasuke growled and turned his face into the fluffy pillows scattered across the mattress.

Itachi sat still as he processed this information, the terrible thought that he shouldn't be the one doing this, that it wasn't his job to pick up the pieces of his brother's broken heart. It was their parent's job. Itachi stood at the foot of the bed, watching Sasuke with a small, sad smile on his face. Then an unshakable wave of grief exploded over his body and mind, crushing him to a pulp. As he watched his brother mourn the loss of innocent love, he felt his own heart give and collapse, under so many years of pressure. Itachi reached out his hand and grabbed at the bed, a sob tearing its way out of his throat, the knowledge that he would never know enough to care for Sasuke, to raise him to be greatness was crippling.

He raised his shaking hands to his face and screamed into them, his body one tense muscle. There was suddenly a warmth at his shoulder, and he faintly heard Sasuke's voice, worried and unfailingly gentle. An overbearing sense of wrongness shrouded the whole scene. Itachi was supposed to be the one comforting Sasuke, gently telling him everything would be ok, even though nothing ever was.

"I'm sorry," Itachi choked out, miniscule rivers running down his face, his whole body trembling, shaking. Sasuke leaned against Itachi, not saying anything for a long time. Then, he nudged Itachi's shoulder.

"You don't have to be strong, Itachi."

"You don't deserve this, little raven. Any of it."

"Neither do you."

Itachi fell silent, his body quivering slightly, his hands moist, his heart heavy. Sasuke sat next to him, and the two sat there quietly, basking in their beautifully ruined remains of an old life.

oOo

Naruto ran his hands over his face over and over, making his palms hot. His mind was in turmoil. Sasuke had kissed him. He had kissed Sasuke back. Then pushed him away. There is no allure in cowardice. Naruto scowled at the floor, scuffing his foot angrily on the carpet. Life had been so perfectly simple before those two had come along. There had been no doubts, no lingering looks, no fierce aches in his heart. Standing up, Naruto glanced at the door that Itachi had disappeared into. He then turned and ran down the stairs, a fierce, gut-wrenching longing ripping apart his insides the whole way. He sprinted down towards the basement, ignoring Cook and Kyuubi and his father. He fumbled with the knob to the old art room, twisting at it quickly and slipping silently inside, locking the rest of the world out. He reached up and pulled at the dangling string, activating a single, orangey light bulb that cast elongated shadows tumbling throughout the room.

Grabbing an easel from the corner, Naruto placed it directly below the light, pulling the old, worn stool up in front of it. Naruto glanced at the paintbrush directly before him and picked it up, closing his eyes to keep tears in. Then he began to paint.

Gentle, curving lines inked the paper first, soft and caring, then sharper edges, outlining a face in jagged lines of fire, encircling the long, red hair. Kind, open eyes smiled even through the burning and crackle of the fire, the color of soft blueberries. The same barrette holding back her soft bangs that were otherwise constantly falling in her eyes. The shocking color of her hair jumped from the painting, the background black, churning smoke, and small outlines of rioting figures. Tears were now falling freely as Naruto continued to paint, attacking the canvas with all his anger and hate, all the built up guilt and fright, sorrow and loss. Finally he sat back.

Sitting in front of him was a picture of a woman standing in the middle of a wall of flames, leaping and seeking the next life to claim, surrounded by thick black smoke and screaming mobs of people. The red hair almost blended in with the fire, the kind eyes always calm, even in the worst of times. Even in death. Naruto let his paintbrush fall to the ground, spattering him with red-tinted yellow paint drops. Dropping his head into his hands, Naruto did not make a sound as the image he had painted burned itself into his retinas. The loving woman surrounded by hate. His mother.

oOo

Miles away, a man slumped forward in his lavish living room, a phone gripped tightly in his hands. He was as sober as he could possibly make himself for the occasion, and was dressed in a fitted white dress shirt and khakis. His hands shook slightly as he dialed in the number that was hastily scrawled across a random piece of yellow paper. It was the director of the slave trade. The ringing was obnoxiously loud in his ears, ad he growled in annoyance before tossing back a swallow of burning whiskey. On the fifth ring, there was a click. Then a low, gravelly voice filled the line.

"Hello?"

The man cleared his throat. "This is Orochimaru, correct?"

"Speaking."

"Great. L-look," the slumped figure began, choking on the bitter taste of his alcohol. "I just recently sold two slaves of mine. I want them back. It was a mistake. I know that a rich and, ah, blonde man purchased him from me. I need you to track him down so I can get them back."

"I don't work for free. And I don't give away customer information."

"I've got money."

"Get more information, and it's a deal."

Then there was a click, and the line was dead.