Warning(s): MORE YAOI-RELATED-SCENES, (cough)SLIGHTRAPE(cough), seeeeeeecrets, odd dreams, coming-onto scenes, scary empty hallways, and cold weather.
Disclaimer: The corruptness of the characters in this fic are from my imagination; they do not belong to me, for if they did, Gaara would be in every single episode, and it would change networks from Toonami to adultswim so fast you'd miss it in a blink.
Author Note: If you are overly disturbed with ItaNaru, please leave. But I mean come on all you SasuNaruSasu fans! Itachi's his older brother! They're practically the same! Kinda sorta…
This.Is.A.Tearjerker.Crying.Now.For.Him.
Three.Hurtling.Into.the.Dark.
There was only one word you could've used to describe Naruto at the moment. He looked very passive, if his half-shut eyes were much to go by. But he wasn't passive. At least, not on the inside. On the inside of his raging soul, Naruto was pissed.
Pissed. Enraged. Perturbed. Aggravated. Frustrated. Irked. Rumpled. Annoyed. Infuriated. Outraged. Wrathful. Inflamed. Indigent. Irate. Ireful. Wroth. Steaming. Riled. Apoplectic. Incensed. …Pissed.
It wasn't his fault that Kiba though it 'best' if he told the two about their new jobs. Personally he'd rather be climbing the grand staircase in a crowd of people, naked. This was much worse than humiliation. This was torturous punishment. He just hoped he could escape as unscathed as possible.
Gulping thickly, Naruto let his forehead rest against the wood door for several moments, before plunging head first off that cliff and into hell. He knocked softly, hoping if no one answered then he'd be free to go straight to his next stop. Just as he had begun to turn around, a low affirmation reached his ears, and he faced the door again, eyes blazing. How he was going to survive, Naruto didn't know.
After entering the pitch room, he dug his hands into his pockets; gaze centered around a prone form, perched in much the same position as Gaara preferred to sit, on his windowsill. It was a habit of the redhead's, for just out his window, he had a wide view of the road below, and of anyone approaching the entrance to the theatre. Naruto willed his thoughts off of Gaara, and onto the man before him.
"Ah, Naruto, such a surprise."
Yeah, right, I bet you heard me all the back down the hallway, was his first immediate thought. Naruto forced himself to stop jumping to conclusions. Neji once told him that that was what injured relationships, but the blond didn't really want a relationship with this guy in front of him, now did he.
He couldn't help the hesitant feeling that filled him at that moment. "Y-yeah."
The man stood from his seat, gaining at least three or more inches above Naruto's own height, forcing his blue eyes to look up to meet black ones. "What brings you here?" Naruto could've sworn he was visibly shaking now. If he had been Gaara, he would've just attached himself to Itachi's hip right there and purred his message into his ear, not stand here stone still with a detached expression.
Stop thinking about him, dammit! The redhead's not a slut; Naruto just didn't like how Gaara had been wrong; he wasn't the one who had stolen Neji's heart. No, the brunette's heart was stolen when Naruto first met him. That alone stung more than anything physical he had ever felt.
"I have news for you, Itachi." The older and more horribly attractive Uchiha raised an elegant eyebrow, returning to his seat, as though taunting Naruto, 'Come, sit in my lap, I don't bite.' Naruto added a mental 'much' in there. "The Hyuuga family has broken the alliance with the Strand Theatre, and you, along with Sasuke, are to take over."
Itachi didn't even seem surprised. That unsettled him instantly.
After a few more tense seconds, Naruto began to inch back out of the dark room, having delivered the message, only to be stopped by a hand grasping his wrist. His eyes widened when he felt Itachi pull forward almost abusively, causing the blond to go tumbling against the older boy, falling into a sitting position in his lap. You could've cracked an egg on his face and cooked it.
Itachi tilted his head up, slipping his tongue out to run along his jaw line. The inner Naruto began screaming bloody murder, waving red warning flags, while the other shuddered from the sensation the Uchiha's tongue brought to his warm skin. As though snapping to his senses when a mental image of a laughing Gaara filled him mind, Naruto jerked away and tried to stumble his way out of the other's lap.
The Uchiha only tightened his hold, finding the sensitive spot on his neck, and taking a great amount of pleasure in it. When teeth bit down hard, the blond was so close to screaming for help it wasn't even funny, nor was the fact that inner Naruto number two was now in a fit of moans, especially when a hand found its way to rest on his outer thigh. Naruto bit his lips shut.
"I-Ita-ach-chi," he ground out through clenched teeth, fighting back the stupid pleasure probably anyone would have felt at the moment, Gaara included. "S-stop…" The tall, dark and evil Uchiha did not stop, and instead drug his tongue up to meet slightly parted lips, shoving in with a force enough to silent Naruto immediately. All the while he battled with himself, trying desperately to get away, no matter how much his body wanted it. This wasn't what he came for, dammit. He was here to deliver a message, and that was it.
Itachi continued though, despite his protests, and stood from the chair, practically shoving Naruto on the ground. After that, he happily climbed on top the blond, a smirk on his face that clearly said, 'scream-and-I'll-really-give-you-a-reason-to-scream'.
Naruto's breath caught in his throat. He didn't want this, no, he didn't, goddammit. Yet… Oh god someone wake him up, get him out of here. Itachi tugged at his shirt, a sparkle in his eye that only meant trouble for him. The blond was pinned, too shocked to do anything but let the older do what he wished with him. Naruto really needed to get out of the habit of freezing. It was causing him to get into very…strange situations.
I was calm. The waves roaring, crashing, always alive had been pulled at, until they fell under a spell. Now they lapped gently against my conscience. I hadn't fallen asleep again, because my catnaps earlier in the day were enough to keep me up all night. My sleeping pattern was so corrupt, no wonder I was able to do double-shifts back to back. I let my mind wander.
It was so strange living here, being stuck here. Such a beautiful place for those who come and go during the season, yet when winter and snowstorms and sheets of ice hit hard, they all flee. Leaving those in residence year-round with only the comfort of each other. I look at them now, and I see the shadow they cast. It's lonely.
The Wheel of business spins, never stopping, never ceasing or changing. Since this far up north the winters tended to be brutal, the Wheel was the complete opposite of the one down south. It went something like this. Up north the filthy rich loved spending a night or two in, let's say, the expensive hotel down the road, because during summer and spring, the temperature's just right. Not too cold, not too warm. Perfect. And they make the best of that with their money.
Down south, the weather was beautiful during fall and winter. Not too warm, not too cold. So they shimmied their way south, like migrating birds, to spend their riches. It was a perfect plan. They didn't care that when they left a lot of the places they usually went closed down and waited for the season, earning the other Wheel money as they sat in the dark.
And when we stopped to take a rest over the cold, chilling months, we walked around, resembling ghosts a great deal. With nothing to do but wait till the elegantly dressed came back to the service they wanted. It all revolved around the money. But I guess that's okay. During the off-season I got to spend time with my fellow neighbors.
My mind drifted, this time, to the subject in my arms. His hair was cutely tangled in itself, making me want to finger-comb it straight again. We both were curled up against each other, our body heat keeping the rattling windowpanes from affecting us. Sure it was still cold, but under the sheets and blankets, all we felt was each other's warmth. I had to force back thoughts of kissing that pale forehead.
I knew it. I was already gone in a whirlwind of darkness. He was leaving, probably somewhere down south, and I'd never see him again. That thought made my heart ache beneath my bare chest. No, this couldn't happen…I didn't want him to go…he was too precious. Damn me for getting so attached.
Lightly, I ran a finger down his cheekbone, simply basking in the pleasure of watching him sleep, so relaxed, so carefree, probably in a world that didn't have money, didn't have anything that could destroy. I envied him, almost. To be able to sleep it all away when I had to face reality and fight it off for him, only nabbing a few hours of sleep every little while in short bursts.
But it was worth it. I'd give up sleep altogether to be able to just hold him against me like this.
Vaguely, I was aware of the rain turn to ice, and continue beating against the windows, desperate to bring the hail in and break the calm atmosphere.
Calm. I felt so calm with him.
Naruto stumbled back out into the hall, hurriedly buttoning up his shirt, practically feeling the devil claw back out of hell and reach for him again. He gulped. It was good to get out without getting…that far, but he still felt violated. The blond shuddered; forgetting to upturn his collar when walking by an open window, and feeling the wind whip straight down his shirt, grazing his skin. He had been forced to kick at Itachi to get him to back off. The Uchiha was that bad.
Still shivering when he returned to the slightly heated hallways of the next floor down, Naruto scanned the area, cobalt eyes fixing on the next place he had to go. Surprisingly, he found the door to Sasuke's room open. This made him a little nervous, and concerned, knowing Sasuke was a personal space whore. That thought made him chuckle outwardly.
Tapping the door with his knuckles but gaining no answer, Naruto inched into the room and looked around widely. It was dark. Very dark. But he could still see. Blinking, he focused his blue eyes on the prominent lump of blanket sprawled across the other boy's bed. Raising an eyebrow, Naruto crept over and prodded it, much like he did to Gaara earlier that day. "Sasuke?" he questioned softly.
There was a groan and a shift of blanket, but nothing else. Seating himself on the edge of the bed, he began to tug the blankets slowly off of what he thought was Sasuke. Naruto smirked when he found the raven-haired teenager curled up tightly to fend of the cold air, and in the back of his mind he wondered why Sasuke had left his window open. Shrugging it off, he began to conjure up ways to wake the sleeping boy up. But first…
Naruto glanced him over. He looked so fragile lying there, wrapped up in his own warmth, black bangs covering up closed eyelids, and lips parted slightly to let out little breaths of air that, scarily enough, Naruto could see. Instantly his concern sharpened. He was going to catch a cold if he remained…wearing only…boxers…
He blushed darkly. Great one, Sasuke. Moving to lean over him, Naruto nudged his cheek with the back of his hand. "Wakey, wakey, sleepy head," he cooed in a mock girly voice, but whispered it, half-hoping he would stay asleep so that Naruto could continue the fun. It was odd, in the back of his mind Naruto felt like some patrol guy going around making sure people didn't fall asleep on the job. A smirk pulled at his lips again. "Sasu-kun, wake up." Now his voice was even softer, and his breath ghosted across the other's lips, causing Sasuke to shiver, though Naruto doubted it was from the cold air.
Naruto also had a lingering suspicion he was only feigning sleep now. Sighing heavily, he pushed Sasuke onto his back and leaned completely over him, deciding that Sasuke wouldn't kill him if he woke him up…the nice way.
Practically purring, Naruto leaned closer, brushing his lips over the corner of Sasuke's mouth, enjoying the attention Sasuke was unconsciously giving him by pressing upwards ever so slightly. But before the blond could indulge in a complete kiss, Sasuke yawned an open-mouthed yawn and rolled onto his side, out of Naruto's grip. He frowned, knowing the boy hadn't done it on purpose, but still.
Losing any patience he might've had, Naruto began to debate whether to do the original 'dump-ice-cold-bucket-of-water-on-sleeping-person's-head' or all-out kick him out of bed and watch him hit the floor, hard. He chuckled to himself, reaching over and shaking Sasuke's shoulder. "Hey Sasuke, I lost my virginity to your brother."
Suddenly dark pools of black were wide awake and watching him with horror.
"…It's a joke, Sasuke…"
He practically sighed in shown relief. Naruto blinked, but the relief that had glittered in Sasuke's pretty, dark eyes instantly evaporated, leaving a steel wall in its wake. The blue-eyed teenager felt a little crestfallen, but caught himself immediately. "Anyway, Sasuke, you and Itachi are taking the Hyuugas place at the theatre 'cause somethin' happened and…yeah…" His explanation now seemed much more open than it had been with Itachi. He blamed it on the fact that the older Uchiha had been staring at him with hungry eyes the entire time he was trying to talk. But now, Sasuke was only curious. Pure curiosity. That was it.
"Oh."
The raven-haired seventeen-year-old only then realized he was half-naked, and modestly pulled the blanket back up over his body. Naruto smirked.
The grass was green. Blindingly green. It made his eyes sting when he focused on the color. Gasping in the humidity-soaked air, he jerked up, back spasming in pain at the slight movement. One thought registered in his mind at that moment.
He wasn't where he was supposed to be.
He was lying in a field, the backyard of a giant, white pillar mansion with curtains of silver silk, glistening and reflecting the mock of the sun. But he wasn't supposed to be at this place.
A remembrance of cold, ice-laden nights, wrapped in the warm arms of another slipped into his mind, before fading away with the hot breeze. Something told him he wasn't supposed to be here.
Something told him someone was waiting.
But his mind was hazy. The heated air was getting to him, erasing the memories of the cold nights and warm bodies, replacing it with something so much more raw. He didn't want it; he didn't want to be here.
Yet the clouds in the baby blue sky continued to swim along lazily, not giving him a second thought as they headed for an unknown destination.
A wave of heat racked through his body, setting his blood on the boil. Again, one thought intruded his swirling mind.
'Get to him. Get to that person. Get to that person now.'
Suddenly he was falling asleep again, the bright green grass folding softly beneath him, creating a makeshift bed for him to rest on, lulling him to sleep, telling him to forget. Forget about the only person that remembered.
The summer warmth enveloped him. He was asleep again, in this nightmarish dream world. Though unconscious to his surrounds, he still had the lingering sensation of gagging.
Of suffocation. Slow and sure.
The world, in that instant, washed over with a darkness so pure, it was nearly transparent.
When Neji woke up from a dreamland only he could describe in his head, he was met with a pair of gleaming, kelly green eyes. His gaze didn't waver as it bore into him, the thick liner coating the rims of his eyes just enough to hide obvious exhaustion. Yet still he knew it was there. He knew it was there, because those green eyes never shut once during the time he slept. That thought put Neji on edge.
"Morning, Sunshine." The nickname and time referred to was almost horribly amusing, due to the fact that the sun wasn't out and hadn't been shining for quite a while now, and it was probably very, very early in the AM hours of the morning. Neji let a slight smile tilt at his lips.
"You too, Gaara," he said in a voice thick with sleep still. Said redhead finally pulled his eyes away from his tired lover, focusing on the opposite wall hesitantly. He knew that Neji knew of his insomnia. It wasn't his fault that when he fell asleep he most likely experienced something much worse than the intoxicating dreams that gripped Neji's mind. Neji yawned silently, like a waking cat, and almost feared the cold that would hit him if he disentangled them and stood to change.
Gaara beat him to it. Before he could comprehend what was happening, the very bold redhead slipped from his grip and pulled his (blue silky, Neji noted) boxers on, followed by dark red, long pants that had two purple patches sewn into them neatly (one on the left leg, outer calf, and one on the right leg, beside the knee), and lastly, his dark gray, sleeveless shirt that Neji had so carelessly ripped off of him just last night. He hastily grabbed Neji's leather jacket and tugged it over his (too-pale-to-be-natural) arms, before heading for the door.
On instinct, Neji stood to stop him, the sheets still wrapped around his bare form. "I…I'm sorry about last night, but just…just don't tell…Naruto."
The redhead nodded, if that slight tip of his head was anything to go by, and turned back around. Just as he was about to leave, he glanced over his shoulder, and smiled. "Don't apologize, you didn't do anything but jump me, and I willingly agree to that, didn't I?" His voice was teasing, but still completely serious. Neji blankly stared at him, at a loss of what to say. After a few seconds of tense silence, Gaara left his room, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway for a little bit afterward.
Faintly, Neji wondered if this was what it felt like to be in love.
"Goddammit!" an angered brunette shouted, turning sharply around and glaring out a window. Out of said window was a street, practically deserted due to the harsh storm the night before. True, it was probably around six or seven in the morning, yet still, the sunrise glittered onto the street like it would an ocean, creating a beautiful image that a camera would have loved to capture. Kankuro almost lingered on it for a moment.
Snapping back into his normal state of mind, he mentally cursed Temari in his head. It was that damn bitch's fault he was now lost in the fucking theatre; he didn't know it had more than two floors! It probably had at least five! Jesus Christ, what he would do when he got his hands on his sister.
The early morning left a dull, gray feeling in the air, causing Kankuro's spirits to effectively plummet. All he wanted was breakfast, but his wallet was running around, probably looking for a boyfriend. Damn you, Temari. Damn you until your hair turns purple…
Maybe that was a little too dramatic. Before his mind could invent even more ways to curse his sister, hurried footsteps met his ears, and he froze instantly, standing in the middle of the hallway, wearing what he had worn to bed, his loose, black pajamas. A figure approached him and, being very handicapped in the early morning, Kankuro had to squint at the form to recognize it. When he did, he gasped.
The redhead flinched for a fleeting moment, then continued onward like no one was there. "H-Hey, wait," he started, causing the green-eyed boy to halt. "I'm kinda lost. Could you help me?" Kankuro nervously scratched the back of his head. What if he recognized his voice from when he was four! Hoshit!
"Walk straight. See staircase, go down. Reach next floor. Do same until the stairs don't go down anymore. Then walk forward. See exit. Keep going until you're out on the frozen streets." He continued walking, straight by Kankuro. The brunette heard a faint, "Good riddance" under his voice, but chose to ignore it.
"Jeez, you're not exactly a happy person," Kankuro muttered, instantly regretting it as the redhead's eyes narrowed with very unhidden annoyance shimmering on the surface.
Then something hit Kankuro, as he watched his younger half-brother through tired eyes. He looked so…so elegant, so innocent, the rising sunlight gracing his features and drawing out the yellow in the depths of those spooky lime eyes. Even the unhappy scowl that contorted those soft, pale lips didn't affect the beauty. Absently, Kankuro wondered what Gaara would have turned out like if he hadn't been given away… sold.
He might've been even more corrupt. Maybe Temari had been right.
"Are you done staring?" Silence; a breath taken brunette, and then, "Look, sorry to interrupt you," sarcastic smile, "but I have people to beat, animals to talk to, jobs to do, things to kill, so if you don't mind," another sarcastic smile, this one more cruel, "I'll be on my way."
"Wait, Gaara—"
The silence grew in that instant, tenfold.
"How do you know my name?" the redhead hissed, half out of annoyance, half out of wonder.
"I…uh…Sh…Shikamaru…told me…?"
So that had been the brunette he was talking to yesterday. Still, Gaara was suspicious. "Whatever. Go ahead, follow me around like a lovesick puppy, I don't care, just try not to get in my way."
So…so cold, so lifeless, that four-year-old Gaara he use to know…
Gaara then spun and tore off, and Kankuro self-consciously noticed how strange his clothing was. 'Red and purple pants.' Strangely, those were his favorite colors.
OH NO! KANKY! YOU SLIPPED!
This is ever so fun to write. I posted a chapter the same day I finished this one. (grin)
Dear love to JK and DK for liking it so much. X3 Hearts! I'm patient enough to wait for more reviews…but who knows how long that really is?
NOW REVIEW, MAH BITCHES!
