Title: Naruto's First Time
Author: desolate butterfly
Genre: humour, gen
Pairing: Naruto/OC
Rating: PG – 13
Summary: Naruto finally finds out just what it is Jiraiya does in those backrooms at bars.

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It was very boring waiting for Ero-Sennin to emerge from the back room of the bar where he was currently "gathering information", or so he claimed.

Naruto had a vague idea of what his teacher was actually doing in the back rooms whenever he left Naruto out in the bar, or (more often) outside on the street waiting for him to emerge, rosy-cheeked and smelling of sake. It probably involved a lot of kissing and seeing girls in their underwear, was Naruto's estimation, although he'd only gotten a brief peek at a rough copy of Icha Icha Violence and it seemed to involve a lot less clothing and some strange positioning of arms and legs that looked odd and painful.

Naruto figured that if the old man was doing a lot of that in backrooms, he'd complain about his joints a lot more than he already did.

Still, whatever Jiraiya was doing, it was taking a long time. Long enough that Naruto decided to amuse himself by flipping his kunai into the same small dent in the bar counter over and over again.

On the twelfth hit he almost nailed the pretty brown-haired waitress walking by and swarmed her with many apologies and pleading looks.

"Don't kick me out nee-san!" he begged. "It just started raining and Ero-Sennin will probably take forever this time."

He was giving her his best earnest look, but she didn't seem to be noticing it. Her eyes were focused more on his chest, to the point where he had to look down at himself to see if he'd maybe spilt something on his shirt. The rip in the fabric over his right pectoral gaped as he moved and he gave the waitress a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry nee-san, it was just a scratch. Already healed see?"

And then he was tugging his shirt up so she could see the smooth, unbroken skin. That didn't seem enough to reassure her though, as she put out a hand to touch his chest. Her fingers were cold and Naruto shivered.

"Okay honey," she said, stroking a line across his chest, nails catching a little on the necklace that hung in the hollow of his throat. "I won't toss you out of here if you do me a favour."

"Sure," Naruto agreed happily. "Need some dishes washed? Or...I can toss out some drunks for you!"

"That's not quite what I had in mind," the waitress admitted, then pulled him into the alcove by the kitchens and started tugging at the snaps to his pants. It wasn't until she fitted her red-stained lips against his that his brain clued into what was happening.

'Oh.'

Fifteen minutes later, Naruto was cleaning himself off with a soapy dishcloth and vowing to steal the next draft of Icha Icha from Ero-Sennin so he could find out how on earth the old man found the strength to keep going at it for so long.

He got his first taste of beer, free of charge, from the waitress while he waited an additional twenty minutes for his teacher to finally emerge, smiling, from the backrooms.

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fin.

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