Tenka-chan, I love you.
Dualism, I love you.
Arie Date, I lo...
Okay, since telling everyone(OMG!So many reviewers! °squeals°) would take waaaaaay too long, I'll just hope you get the message.
Randomness: Tanzwut, "Nein Nein."
Here's 36! And I'm close to the 150 rev. mark! Help me get there, people!
Oh, and the gin is empty. I think we still have brandy...
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Whore Street
Sasuke watched, half-hidden by the wall and the swirling snow, as Naruto cried Gaara's name. The black-haired boy bit his lip as the thin body collapsed, whimpering with pleasure and yet sobbing with loss – sadness – something. He supported himself on the wall as his own peak neared. It was a pathetic truth that he didn't even need to touch himself – simply watching was enough, imagining those pleasured sounds coming from his hands, from his thrusts.
He moaned softly and closed his eyes, his breath releasing in a strangled sigh as he went over the edge to the sound of Naruto's sobbing. It took only the smallest bit of imagination to change the pain lacing the sounds into pleasure. He leaned against the wall and let his respiration calm down.
Sasuke sighed in satisfaction. This was the fourth night that he'd watched Naruto pleasure himself to thoughts of the redhead, the fourth night he'd heard Gaara's name called in the throes of a bloody climax.
He was the only one among the Konoha crew who knew of this, who saw a bit of the pain behind Naruto's facade. It gave him both a feeling of... pride, and of urgency. He knew that Naruto needed to stop this, but he couldn't tell him. Just as Naruto cried Gaara's name in absolute need and surrender, Sasuke's body and soul cried Naruto's, day and night, constantly. This was his only possibility of release, and he didn't want to – physically was unable to – destroy it.
Sasuke gazed up into the whirling snow and lit a cigarette, walking in the direction of the Arcade to clean himself up.
Behind him, he heard the faint rustle of clothing and the scrape of shoes on concrete. Naruto was getting up.
Naruto blinked, trying to clear his sight. He was dizzy, his head spinning and bright dots dancing in his vision. He slowly made his way toward the Street, determined to finally eat something. This was pathetic.
He needed to clean himself up as well, but he forewent that for now, feeling too exhausted to make his way to the Arcade. It was late – he'd waited for the business on the Street to die down before slipping away to his relief -- , and the sky was almost imperceptibly lightening.
Naruto made his way past the shifting and muttering junkies, past the Konoha where everyone except Shikamaru was asleep, and finally reached the ramen place, wading through a mess of tranny clothes and shit. He ordered a bowl of ramen in a hoarse, exhausted voice, and the ramen man favored him with a worried frown.
"Kiddo, you're not looking too good. Maybe you should go to the hospital."
Naruto grinned weakly. "Been there, done that, man. Believe me, not the most skilled medic in the world could keep me healthy."
The ramen man smiled. "Ah. Lovesickness, then."
Naruto looked at him, shocked to silence. What? How did he – Because there was no sense in denying it, even though it was more obsession than love – was he that obvious?
Oh fuck, he didn't want to take this anymore
"Gaara..." he whispered. "Dammit...come BACK."
He was still dying his slow death. What could he do?
How did one find the Sandman in the depths of the City that was his stomping ground?
He knew the answer well, and it flashed bleakly through his mind as he watched the ramen man heap a bowl full with noodles.
You didn't.
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God, more moping. I really need that brandy.
I GOT 150 REVIEWS!
next chappie is Gaara for sure...
Okay?
So review.
