Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, or any of its associated characters!

Summary: COMPLETE (new chapter up everyday - total of 35 chapters!). Sasuke's a writer whose been writing the same words for years. He's tired, he's annoyed, and his money situation is...pretty messed up, even by student standards. Enter Naruto. Modern AU (College/University), Sasunaru/Narusasu. Posted for Sasuke's birthday!

A/N: aghsdgjsadg you guys are so NICE! I've caught a cold so my thoughts are all over the place but 31! 31! I'm in denial!


Enter Naruto

Chapter 31: This Chance

The next morning came slowly—in soft, scattered pieces. There was nowhere urgent to be—nothing urgent to be done—no need to leave the bed until the sun was high in the sky.

Not that they were asleep. Sasuke found round two, built up from soft kisses and sleep-laden touches, to be both more comfortable and more alarming—some part of him had expected the sensations to lessen, now that he knew what to expect.

They hadn't.

It was with weak knees that Sasuke left the shower—and it was barely a moment before Naruto greeted him with a smile, a coffee, and breakfast. Or—well, lunch, probably. Sasuke had very little clue of what the time actually was.

Sasuke pressed a kiss to his neck in greeting, letting his face rest there as if he was more tired than he actually was. He felt Naruto's fingers run across his forearms—felt the blonde lean back, into his touch—heard the click of Naruto turning the stove off—

"Kiba's pissed at us." Naruto let out a soft laugh.

Sasuke pulled back, frowning.

"Why?"

Naruto took the plates as Sasuke passed them, their bodies still dangerously close—

"'Cause we're not going to the New Year's party." He flipped the food onto one plate—Sasuke's—and then another. "One of us has one every year—last year was Ino, this year's Kiba."

Sasuke looked down at his plate, not making a motion to move.

"You can—" he took a step back, letting out a breath, "you can go to it—you don't have to—"

"Sasuke," Naruto smile was indulgent, "I'm obviously coming with you. This is way more important. I'm just giving you fair warning that Kiba's being a bitch about it 'cause I won't tell him why."

Sasuke snorted softly, and Naruto took his hand, gently leading him across the room.

"...Your family won't be expecting you?"

"My parents?" Naruto glanced back at him, unwilling to let go of Sasuke even as they reached the couch. "Nah—they get Christmas. New Year's is always pretty open for me."

There was a pause. Sasuke eyed his food—feeling the hunger, but not yet willing to eat. He felt the plate be taken from him as Naruto moved to sit up on the armrest.

"Hey," his hands rested on Sasuke's hips, legs swinging on either side of him, "tell me what's going on in your head right now."

Sasuke swallowed.

"I'm…" he let out a breath, "I'm still...angry."

"Yeah. 'Course you are."

Sasuke glanced at him—Naruto lifted his head back up to meet his eye.

"It's gonna take some time." Naruto's thumbs slipped under his shirt, running along his skin in that soft, calming way the way that soothed him so quickly. "Forgiveness doesn't happen overnight, y'know."

"I know," he said quietly, "but…"

Naruto tilted his head a little, scanning his face. Sasuke pressed closer to him.

"I should have—when my father—"

He just—he should have known. He hadn't even considered his father knowing about him, but he should have—of course his father would have kept track where his money was going—especially in such great amounts—

"You should have…?" Naruto prompted, his arms moving to wrap around Sasuke's waist.

Sasuke shook his head.

"I—just," he swallowed, "I…"

He should have known—but he hadn't. He hadn't wanted to even entertain the idea. Because it would have meant that his father wasn't all bad—his parents weren't all bad—and his childhood might not have been as—

"I feel like," he let out a breath, "I haven't been...fair. I've only told you the—bad things, about my parents—and it—it wasn't all bad—"

Naruto pushed him back a little, eyeing Sasuke with a look that would nearly be amused if it wasn't so serious.

"You're seriously feeling guilty for trash-talking the parents that kicked you out of the house, huh?"

Sasuke faltered.

"Naruto—I'm serious. I have good memories, too—and I haven't—"

"I know, I know." Naruto shoved himself up—closer, wrapping himself around Sasuke in a way that had his arms around his neck and his legs around his thighs. "You get that it's dumb to feel guilty, though, right?"

Naruto flashed him a teasing grin. Sasuke met it with a soft glare.

"I mean it. Your anger was justified, Sasuke."

"I...know." Some part of him did, really, but he still felt so…

"Good." Naruto shifted against him. "I know it's complicated. And it's not like you can pick what you feel—so you can feel guilty. That's fine. As long as you know you don't need to."

Naruto's hands loosened a little, moving to tenderly trace his fingers along Sasuke's collarbone.

"It's not easy to think good things about people who hurt you."

Sasuke looked down. No...it hadn't been. It still wasn't. He felt as if everything was..blurry, now. Buried too deeply to find—Sasuke was suddenly afraid that he wouldn't be able to find the memories at all, anymore—

"So let's start slow."

Sasuke blinked, coming back to reality—Naruto was smiling at him, he noticed—

"New Year's. What should I expect? D'you guys have traditions and stuff?"

"I…" Traditions? Well, maybe… "We...used to, I think. Itachi would know better than me, but—I think we used to celebrate on the first few days. Of January, I mean."

"But not anymore?" Naruto let go of him fully, shifting so that Sasuke could sit on the couch, too.

"No." Sasuke shook his head, taking the food as Naruto passed it back to him. He felt much hungrier, now. "We do—we do the countdown thing, now. Well, we watch it, at least. I'm not sure if we always did. There's always a lot of food. That hasn't changed." He paused. "At least, I think it hasn't."

"Mmkay." Naruto grinned at him. "I like the sound of that."

"We wake up early the next morning—"

"I don't like the sound of that—"

"To watch the sunrise, moron." Sasuke flicked his arm before turning back to his food. "It's the first sunrise of the new year."

"Aw," Naruto shuffled closer to him, "that's pretty cute, actually."

"It's not cute, it's—it's just—tradition. I don't know."

Naruto giggled, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips—as if only because he could—

"Ugh," Sasuke pulled back, "we're eating, Naruto—"

Naruto only laughed again.

"I don't care," he looked at Sasuke, eyes glittering, "and neither do you."

He smiled—that knowing, teasing smile that had driven Sasuke crazy even before they were dating—

Sasuke turned away from it.

"...Yeah." Naruto moved even closer to him, shoving Sasuke further into the armrest. He always did it—every single time they had been on this couch.

Sasuke was yet to mind it.

"I have another question, for tomorrow."

Naruto's voice had grown quieter, and it made Sasuke turn back to him.

"Go ahead."

"How—boyfriend-y am I allowed to be?"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. Naruto gave him a sheepish grin.

"I'm pretty in love with you, y'know. And I'm really bad at hiding it. I don't want to—"

"If you say make me uncomfortable, I am going to shove you off this couch."

Naruto laughed.

"C'mon, Sasuke—"

"I want you to be yourself," Sasuke answered honestly, "and I want to be myself. That's the point. That's always been the point."

There was a pause—Sasuke put his plate on the floor, not quite as finished as Naruto's, but finished nonetheless.

"If they can't accept me—as I am, then…"

"They're trying to." Naruto pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Honestly, I can't believe your dad invited me. He seemed like he hated me on sight."

"If he asks about your scars again, we're leaving."

"Well, no, that—I don't care about that. And they're not really scars..." Naruto's hand moved up, scratching at them in the way he tended to whenever he was reminded—

"They're not really tattoos, either," Sasuke shifted until he could hold Naruto in his arms, "and I care."

Naruto's hand immediately left his cheek—his bright smile back in full force. He nuzzled into Sasuke's chest, as if attempting to hide it.

"I really love you." He laughed, rubbing his face all over Sasuke's chest. "Can we stay here again tonight?"

"Mm," Sasuke shifted, forcing Naruto to sit up a little, "are you sure you can take another night without Pakkun?"

"Oh shit," Naruto groaned, "we're gonna go back to school soon, too, aw fuck—"

Sasuke laughed, sitting up as Naruto did. Naruto whined.

"But I wanna spend time with you—"

"You'll get plenty of time with me. Spend some time with your family."

Naruto made a pained noise, ducking his face into Sasuke's neck. Sasuke only snorted.

"...Fine. But we're stopping by my house first."

"The house—here? Why?"

He felt Naruto's smile widen against his neck.

"'Cause I have a bag of good stuff too," Naruto's breath brushed his skin, sending shivers down his spine, "and I think you'll like some of it."

Naruto pressed a kiss to his neck, and then another—and another—

"You're insatiable." The smile pulled at Sasuke's lips—

"Mm," he felt Naruto's laugh breathe out against his skin, "we don't have to leave yet, do we?"

Sasuke pulled him up until his lips were an inch from his—

"No," he told Naruto's mouth, "not yet..."


There was a strange peacefulness to the chaos in Naruto's house. Iruka bustled around the kitchen—pausing only to step over Naruto, who was rolling around the floor in an attempt to goad Pakkun into playing again—and Kakashi had both the tea and coffee maker running, with some milk in the microwave for Naruto's hot chocolate, too—

"So I spoke with Konoha," Kakashi said quietly, passing Sasuke a mug of tea. Naruto rolled over to look at them.

"Already?" He had barely even begun to think about it again, with everything else that had happened. He had at least wanted a chance to look over the contract again—and really look at it this time, because the experience with Oto had left him shaken and more than a little paranoid—

"Not about your contract," Kakashi continued. "Not even about you."

He turned to face Sasuke, leaning his hip against the counter as he hugged his own mug to himself.

"As it turns out, they had a bit of a breach of security," he swirled the spoon around his cup, "whether an employee or a virus, I don't know. But I figured I ought to let you know how Oto got your information."

Sasuke's brow furrowed.

"Wait," it was Naruto that spoke first, sitting up straight, "are you saying that Oto—like—hacked Konoha's stuff? And stole Sasuke's info?"

Kakashi swallowed a sip of his tea.

"Not only Sasuke," he said, "but as far as I know, yes."

Sasuke's scowl deepened. Iruka glanced back at them for a moment, saying nothing, although Sasuke saw something hard in his eyes—

"They steal information and poach authors from better companies," Sasuke muttered, the anger coiling in his gut. "It almost makes me want to accept their contract so I could take them to court."

"Orochimaru has too much money and too good lawyers," Kakashi responded casually, "and your book deserves far more than that."

Sasuke felt his face heat at the compliment.

"...Thank you."

"It's true!" Naruto stood, moving to grin right in Sasuke's face. Sasuke gave him a small shove in response, which Naruto immediately countered, grabbing Sasuke's tea out of his hands in the process—

"You two are awfully touchy-feely today," Kakashi muttered into his mug.

Sasuke immediately put on his best blank expression.

Naruto, on the other hand, sprung away from him, eyes wide and cheeks bright red—

"We—I—uh—"

Kakashi's eyes rose.

His eyebrows followed.

"Ah." He nudged himself up from the counter. "I don't want to know."

"It's not—!" Naruto called after Kakashi's rapidly retreating body—Iruka made a small, panicked noise—

"Don't want to know!"


He wasn't as nervous as he ought to be.

Sasuke had slept well (after Naruto had thoroughly tired him out), hadn't felt sick when he woke up, and accepted Kakashi and Iruka's offer to drop them off without hesitation—

He really wasn't anywhere near as nervous as he ought to be.

Even Kakashi, pulling him aside with a series of calm, intent questions, hadn't shaken him. He was still nervous—a little, but that horrible, wrenching feeling in his gut hadn't even started yet. It hadn't been there at all.

He felt Naruto's head fall on his shoulder—their fingers had intertwined long ago, and with every passing minute, it seemed that Naruto was making it his mission to twist further around him in some way. Sasuke pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

This...felt different.

It was almost as if he was...prepared. As if he was nearly ready, for something that he never thought he would be ready for—but no, that wasn't quite it either. It was more…

It was that he wanted this.

He wanted to do this. It had taken him a while to be able to acknowledge the thought and even longer to accept it, but he—if given the chance—if, in some amazing, miraculous way, things could just work out—

Naruto squeezed his hand, shuffling closer into his side.

He wanted this.

So, so very badly—

He wanted to be able to go home.


It was uncomfortable.

Perhaps he should have expected it. Perhaps he should have grown used to this, by now—these uncomfortable, nervous silences where Mikoto wrung her hands and Itachi watched him with calm, piercing eyes—

Yesterday had passed by in a blur. Mikoto had nearly tripled the amount of food they had originally had planned—cursing the fact that Fugaku hadn't gotten Naruto's dietary preferences when he had had the chance. The mochi was remade ("It was too sweet, Fugaku, Sasuke has always hated sweets, you should know that—"), tomato nabe was added ("I don't care if it's not traditional, it's his favourite, Fugaku—"), and Mikoto had seemed to make it her mission to remake everything she had originally bought to save time, instead—

They hadn't put this much effort into a holiday in years.

"Are you sure—is he—on his way…?" Her eyes darted to the kitchen, to the door, back to him—

"We said seven—it's five to seven. If we—"

"He is on his way," Itachi interrupted softly. "Any minute now."

A new wave of nerves clamped Fugaku's mouth shut. With all he had done—everything he had left behind and everything he had built—he was hard-pressed to pick a moment where he felt as apprehensive as this one.

Still, Sasuke had allowed them to have it. That meant something.

He let out a breath—near silent, but his wife moved just a touch closer to him.

This felt different—much different—than when he had waited here before. He had thought that Sasuke...knew, at that time. That Sasuke had chosen to abandon his family, in spite of the fact that they still supported him.

He had gone into that night ready to be angry.

But now...now it had changed. Now there was purpose—there was importance—there was a suffocating pressure on Fugaku to not miss this chance, because the way his son had shaken—the way his voice had broken—

Let's keep going.

—the way his eyes had shone, not with anger, not with blame, but with pain

How else may I disappoint you?

He had never wanted to see such an expression on his own son's face.

He let out another breath, and felt his wife's hand brush against his. He must really look unwell, to have her so obviously worried.

He spared her a bland smile.

"Ah—that will be them."

Itachi moved past them, opening the door—and something in Fugaku's body wanted to call for him to stop—to slow down—to wait; he wasn't ready, yet—

"Itachi!" A chorus of voices—more than the two that were expected—greeted him.

He felt his wife pull him forward, and he moved, numbly, to the entrance way, eyeing the way the strangers had pulled his eldest son into a hug—eyeing the way Sasuke's friend's hand (Naruto, his mind corrected, Naruto's hand) gently held Sasuke's—eyeing the way the strangers were what appeared to be two older men

"Good to see you again, Itachi," one of the men—with brown hair, and a scar over his nose—who had pulled his eldest son into a hug; it was such a familiar gesture—the word again echoed through his head—

"Come in." Itachi pulled back—Fugaku moved to dodge him, his wife's hand leaving his—

"Ah, thanks Itachi—oh, um," Naruto gave a short, awkward motion that looked nearly like a bow, "thank you for having me!"

His wife covered her smile with her hand.

"You're welcome."

"Oh—um—these are my parents." Naruto gestured towards the men (his parents—), and Fugaku was infinitely grateful as his wife took the lead—

"Mikoto." She reached out her hand to shake—

"Iruka," he smiled, but Fugaku noticed the way he nudged his—the man beside him—forwards—just as his wife did the same, "and this is my husband, Kakashi."

"Fugaku," his voice came out gruff—it still felt wrong, this lack of formality with strangers, but Mikoto had begun it and she was far wiser than he had ever been when it came to people—

A firm hand gripped his.

"Kakashi," there was something cold and steely in those eyes—far more than there had been in the man before, "Kakashi Hatake. You may recognize my name from your son's acceptance letter to the creative writing program."

His blood froze.

And then all at once, it came rushing back—hot and angry and pounding in his ears—his mouth opened before his mind had told him which words to say—

"Kakashi."

It was Sasuke's voice that broke the silence—and Sasuke's voice that stopped Fugaku where he stood. The simple name—calm, but full of warning—suddenly fiercely reminded Fugaku just how much Sasuke took after his mother—

"Mm," the grey-haired man pulled back, but Fugaku still felt frozen, "I'm afraid we have to run—dinner reservations, you know."

"Ah, well—" his wife started, "thank you for—for bringing them here—"

"Thank you for having them," the scarred man—Iruka—spoke, and Fugaku could see him gently pulling on the other man's arm—pulling them back—away—

"We'll see you tomorrow. Have fun, boys!"

"Thanks—bye!"

"Ah, yes!" Mikoto stepped back, and it somehow caught him by surprise—he barely managed to move away before she collided with him—

The door shut.

This silence was much worse. It felt almost damning, as if with each passing second Fugaku was losing his chance—losing his hope—he wanted to speak and yet he had no idea what to say—

"Dinner will be ready in just a moment." His wife stepped in front of him—in between him and Sasuke, as if stopping whatever would have come next. "Would you two like to—get settled?"

He wasn't sure what bothered him more—the way Mikoto so obviously didn't trust him, or the way Sasuke's body sagged—as if in defeat—

"...Sure."


A/N: Fugaku's a pessimist and Kakashi's dukes are up - but it's New Year's Eve! And we have 4 chapters to go!

See you tomorrow,

- Kinomi