The Persistence of Loss

Written by Venerate

Even Deeper

His room was turning into something akin to a paper recycling station. It was early afternoon, and it was still raining outside. He couldn't say that he enjoyed the never-ending downpour, but it was a good excuse to stay inside instead of helping his mother in the garden. From where he sat by the window, he could see her in the red raincoat, moving heavy ceramic pots from their usual places. Itachi had been helping her earlier with the heavier ones, carrying them to the veranda for protection.

Even though Sasuke's computer was up and running before him, he had yet to touch it. Normally, he would have turned on some music and started with his homework, but not today. He was still a little winded up from the performance yesterday. In his hand was a pen, and splotches of ink was littering the sketch pad next to the laptop.

Just like the first time, Naruto wouldn't leave him alone.

This time around, however, there were tears and scars littering his mind. He hadn't seen the scars so up close before, and they seemed darker in real life. There had been tears. Naruto had been crying. The upset face, however briefly Sasuke had actually seen it among all those people, was just as fascinating – if not more – than seeing the blue eyes filled with mirth and mischief.

The lips had been parted, the eyes wide under knitted, fair eyebrows. Naruto sure was an interesting person. Perhaps not the prettiest boy, but certainly appealing. Sasuke had drawn and painted tears on human faces before. Tears of joy, of anger, of sadness – mostly as a practice. It wasn't tears that attracted his attention most of the time, but the actual expression behind it.

He vaguely recalled Naruto running past in only his dancing outfit. He had been about a head shorter than Sasuke; the young Uchiha had noticed when the blond teen came up close. Dark eyes glanced out through the window as he tried to wipe the picture out of his mind. The rain made his windows blurry.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, noticing that his mother was still fighting with moving the pots of amaryllis to the covered veranda. She was wearing rubber boots that matched her red raincoat.

Naruto had been wearing his ballet shoes when he ran outside. It must have been cold.

Sasuke began to sketch without really thinking, biting on the inside of his cheek as he cluttered down two feet. The feet were wearing ballet shoes, and soon he was drawing ribbons climbing up lean, naked calves. Soon, he had sketched a lower body, blue ink smudging the edges here and there. The hips were tricky, as they weren't curvy, but still noticeable on a body that lacked any and all unnecessary body fat.

He almost dropped the pen when he heard his cellphone let out a vibrating beep. He sent a glare towards his bag, as if whoever sent him a text would sense it. Getting up, he dropped the pen on the sketch book and got over to fetch his phone. It took some digging around in his messenger bag before he found it, wondering if it was Itachi needing a ride.

A slender, dark eyebrow shot up upon seeing it was The Moron, who had texted him. Opening it, he noticed that Kiba was capable of sounding idiotic through written words as well. There was a series of emoticons that he didn't understand, and then there was a question, written in awful chat language. Sasuke texted back a simple yes, stating that he would mind if Kiba showed up tomorrow afternoon.

Sasuke didn't even make it back to his desk before the phone sounded in his hand again. This time, more incoherent rambling, and then a time. The young Uchiha guessed that if Kiba showed up, he couldn't really stop him. He didn't really want the other near him, but he guessed that, since he needed to study as well, he could help Kiba at the same time.

As long as the moron didn't snoop in his dustbin again, they would be all right.

The water pouring over him was warm, so warm that it left his sensitive skin rosy red. Nevertheless, he felt no urgency to leave his place under the hard spray. He was currently rinsing his hair from conditioner, running his long fingers through the silky hair in a backwards motion, keeping it out of his face.

Sunday morning showers should be sacred, Sasuke thought.

His eyes were closed as he leaned against the wet wall, his hands caressing down over his body slowly. Over a muscular chest, rubbing past pale nipples, tracing the abdominal muscles carefully. He let out a soft grunt as his thumb ran over the soft pubes that began in a thin trail under his belly button. He could feel himself working something up, something that couldn't be prevented.

Much like the night before, pictures of Naruto was what was taking over. Despite the fact that he was disappointed not to have actually met the danseur, he tried to keep the frustration at bay. He didn't want Itachi to notice and tease him endlessly about it. No, instead, he sucked it up as well as he could, and tried not to think of it. He would ask Kiba to call Naruto again. Maybe then Naruto would tell Kiba what had happened.

Sasuke didn't want to think of that either. He wanted to think of parted lips around the head of his dick. The tongue flicking over the slit much like his index finger did now. He wanted to see the mouth being full with his cock, perhaps even seeing the head poking at the inside of one of the scarred cheeks. "Aahh," and he wrapped his fingers firmly around the hardening erection.

Under the spray of water, everything seemed smoother. His movements were slow, going from the base and upwards, his lips parting as he let drips of water slide inside of his dry mouth. He was getting excited by merely thinking of the ballerino, wondering what kind of sounds Naruto would make if he let Sasuke take him.

"Tss-ahh…"

Sasuke's other hand joined the first, and he cupped his balls with the one that wasn't busy. Moving up and down with firm strokes, he imagined a much tanner hand working on him. He had yet to hear Naruto's voice, as all videos on Uzumaki Kushina's website were mute, but he could imagine a rough, loud tone that matched the blond teen's personality.

Sasuke visualised the younger male turned-on and eager, inexperienced or perhaps very experienced. It was hard to say, but Sasuke wouldn't mind having a skilled mouth kissing him, sucking him. On the contrary, it made his hand work even faster. Up and down; his smooth skin followed with each movement, his other hand caressing his balls.

Perhaps Naruto had never even thought of offering someone a blowjob. Oh, how Sasuke would love to be the first. He would love to teach and tell, instruct and whisper encouragements. He wouldn't mind Naruto sucking on his dick, sometimes too hard and sometimes too little. Sloppily, Naruto would bob his head forth and back with high hopes of satisfying Sasuke.

Arching his back, he imagined a blond head between his legs. A low, guttural noise escaped his mouth, and he came all over himself. Shuddering, his eyes closed as semen hit his toned abdomen hard.

His breath was ragged as he tried to regain his posture under the spray. Goosebumps ran over his skin, regardless of the warm water. Muttering some obscenities, he washed it away with a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew that, despite the pleasure that had come, he was going to regret it later.

How many times had he now masturbated to the thought of Namikaze Naruto sucking him off? How many times would there be before he let go of this insane obsession? It was weird, not to mention wrong. He tried to justify his actions by thinking of the nameless girls at his school that probably thought of him while touching themselves.

Yet, he couldn't help the frustration rising within him – at least they had the chance to look at him every day; to approach him. He had to satisfy himself with photographs and mute videos of his affection dancing and stretching. He really wanted to touch – explore – that tan body.

Turning off the water, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel. The purple fabric was soft against his skin, and he sighed deeply. As the bliss ebbed out, these thoughts and questions returned to his mind. Naruto, crying. Naruto, running away without even stopping to tell why. Sasuke tried to stop the angry feeling, but the disappointment of not being able to introduce himself took over.

He used his fingers to get his damp hair into some sort of order before exiting the humid bathroom. With the towel around his waist, he walked over to his wardrobe in search for something to wear. Kiba would arrive in less than fifteen minutes, so he had to hurry if he wanted to hide all the half-finished drawings he had started.

He had to throw away the canvas by his desk as well, because it was obvious who was going to be painted there. He had only managed the strong contours of Naruto's face and neck, but a commercial poster he had stolen from his school was taped to the corner of the canvas. The commercial poster was like the one he had thrown away due to the degrading clutter, a picture of Naruto and the dates of the performance.

There were mostly dark clothes in Sasuke's wardrobe, the occasional white wife-beater or t-shirt standing out between the blue, black and gray colours. Grabbing a navy blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans, he got dressed hurriedly. After that, he made his way downstairs to get something to eat before Kiba came over.

There was no one else in the kitchen, and Sasuke suspected that no one was at home either. That was good, considering that he didn't want to explain his sudden friendliness with other teenagers. He tried not to think of the teasing comments he would have to endure from his brother, if the older Uchiha found out about his new friends. Instead, he focused on taking an apple from the exotic fruit bowl, then searching for the bread basket.

Before he could find the bread basket, there was a knock on the door. The knock turned into a rhythmic tapping, but Sasuke didn't recognise whatever beat Kiba was trying to re-enact. Taking a bite from the green apple, he walked out from the kitchen to open the presumably locked front door.

The knocking didn't stop until Sasuke opened the door, chewing on a new bite of fruit, finding Kiba there with his large dog. Before the young Uchiha could tell Kiba that the dog had to stay outside, both animal and its master were inside of his hall. Kiba kicked off his shoes, hanging off his coat on the coat hanger as if he had been in the Uchiha manor plenty of times.

Sasuke could only stare at the big dog in his hall. The fur was white and brown, long and surprisingly clean. It reached his hips without problem, and it was already sniffing on his jeans and feet, as if trying to place him. Sasuke had never been a big fan of dogs, but he had never really had the chance to get used to them. The only animals in the compound were the ugly fighting dogs, and those weren't exactly cuddly.

"Just pet him, Captain. He won't jump you until you say its okay."

"It isn't okay," Sasuke muttered under his breath.

Kiba chuckled, running his tan hands through the white fur of the dog's back. This had to be Akamaru, Sasuke guessed, the canine that Kiba always spoke so fondly of in school. "Did you bring your stuff?"

"If you, by stuff, mean the evil that is homework, then yeah. Really nice of you to help me, despite being an asshole and all." Kiba grinned, picking up the bag he had dropped on the floor. "Shika is too lazy to actually help me. I don't pass the tests or anything when he explains. It's not like I'm an idiot or something, but you know, he's a motherfucking genius and I–"

"Shut up, Kiba." Sasuke guessed that, since the Itachi was allergic to animals, they would have to be nowhere where Itachi usually hung out when he visited. Kiba just shrugged at the order, snapping his fingers to make Akamaru back off. The large dog made a noise, but Sasuke couldn't really tell what it meant. "My room. Now."

Kiba nodded eagerly, walking up the stairs with the white beast in tow. Sasuke stared at the wagging tail, wondering where the satisfaction in having such an animal laid. He followed his guest upstairs, opening his bedroom door and nodding for the other to get inside.

It wasn't until then, when Sasuke walked inside behind the dog, that he realised that he hadn't cleaned up at all. He hadn't counted on Kiba to be early. The black-haired male didn't really know what to say, so he kept his narrow eyes on Akamaru when the dog sat down in the corner, apparently tired after the walk to the Uchiha Compound.

"He doesn't… he doesn't need anything, does he?" Sasuke wasn't so sure that he wanted to leave Akamaru and Kiba alone in his room. His laptop was up and running from yesterday, there were crinkled papers everywhere, and the canvas… the canvas.

"Man, you're deep in the shit, aren't you, Captain?" Kiba's toothy grin wasn't pleasant at all, and a scowl appeared on Sasuke's handsome face. The Inuzuka tilted his head, reading on the A4-sized poster that was taped to the canvas. "This is commercial for the show we were at, right? It was pretty awesome, but I haven't gotten a hold of Naruto yet."

Yet, Sasuke thought. Yet. That was good – it meant that Kiba would, in the future, get a hold of Naruto.

"I asked mom for Naruto's home phone number, but she just said he moved to his dad's place. Mom's really down about it, but she won't tell me anything." Kiba shrugged, but the other could tell that the brunet cared and worried about his mother more than he let on. The toothy grin was soon back, and Kiba spewed out more idiocy, "Dude, I shoulda known that you wouldn't settle for anything less than the mayor's son. Right? Your brother, isn't he dating the girl from Amegakure?"

Sasuke gestured for Kiba to sit down by his desk, but the Inuzuka slumped down on the newly made bed instead. Grabbing his laptop and putting it away, Sasuke sat down by his desk and waited for the other to take the initiative.

Kiba got the hint immediately, unzipping his bag and pouring out a few worn books and notebooks on the bed. "I know you're taking a different course in history, but y'know, perhaps you can help me with this shit anyway?"

"It's art history," Sasuke corrected. "But I have taken this course in history before."

Kiba looked a little confused, as if taking more than the mandatory courses was madness, but nodded slowly. "There's this test in a week, 'bout Hitler and Himmler or whoever."

Sasuke nodded slowly. He could remember this part from his history course, which he had finished during his second year before he started with art history as an alternative. Hitler and the Second World War had been a great part of the course, so he guessed that Kiba had a lot of work to do.

"Let's start, then," Sasuke urged and reached out for one of the books. He glanced at Kiba to see if the brash teen was following him.

"What's your deal with Naruto, Sasuke? You've never met, and there's nothing really special about him. He's a ballet dancer, for Christ's sake."

The interruption caused Sasuke's scowl to deepen. There was something special about Naruto, even if Kiba didn't see it. It wasn't his hair-colour, his bright smile or the icy blue in his eyes. No, it was the strong body. The strong body and the seemingly strong psyche. A survivor, a fighter. Sasuke was, every single time he looked at a photograph of the ballerino, astounded by the determination he saw.

Even though they had never met, Sasuke was sure that once they did, they would find each other perfectly well. Naruto would be amazed by his drawing, and he would immediately ask if Sasuke wanted to use him as a model. That was how it would be, yes.

Kiba just didn't understand.

"Is there some gay appeal about him that I'm missing? It's his flexibility, isn't it? Captain, you sly–"

"If you want my help, you better not finish that sentence. Are we clear?"

"Err, yeah, sorry. Crystal clear, Captain."

The weather was damp, but no rain fell from the sky. Although the clock only had turned four in the afternoon, it was getting dark. The clouds were heavy and gloomy, trying to dampen their mood. It didn't seem to work on Kiba, who was happily walking on the tarmac streets outside of the Uchiha Compound. Sasuke, on the other hand, put his hands deep in his pockets and tried not to strangle his company.

The Inuzuka Kennel was a bit outside of town, but they weren't heading towards Kiba's home. Sasuke wished that it had been the case – he wouldn't mind walking Kiba all the way to the Inuzuka's home, even if it would take an hour or so. With the pace that the big dog had settled for, they would be there before they even knew it.

Sasuke now understood the people who didn't buy dogs. Akamaru had been disturbing them as they did their homework, with his barks and restlessness, causing Kiba to go restless as well. Not a lot of homework had been done, but Kiba now held some understanding towards the World War II.

"Thanks for helping me today. Y'know, it was nice of you."

"Stop saying that." Sasuke really didn't want to hear it. He hadn't exactly done it because he wanted to, or because he felt the need to help out a buddy. He had done it, because the closer he was to Kiba, the closer he would be to Naruto. He had a small feeling that Kiba knew it, and was trying to rub it in his face.

There was amusement in Kiba's voice when he said, "I'll make sure that you'll meet Naruto soon. I have this feeling that it'll happen."

Sasuke nodded as they stopped. Akamaru sniffed around, taking his time before doing his business. Kiba handed Sasuke the leash in order to fix his shoelaces while the dog was busy. Feeling awkward with the leash in his hand, Sasuke looked over his shoulder to see if there were any people nearby.

"People will think you've done something illegal if you continue to look around like that. You're making me nervous, Captain."

"…Fuck you, Kiba."

Kiba snickered, "No, thank you. I don't think your heart would be in it."

"Keep that up and I'll tell coach to bench you the next game." Sasuke almost flinched when the leash in his hand started to pull, but he instantly found himself. Akamaru led the way forward, so Sasuke merely walked behind with the leash in a tight, secure grip. Kiba didn't make a motion to take it back.

"Why do you throw away all of your sketches of Naruto? I think they're… y'know, kinda good."

Sasuke kept his eyes on the beast in front of him, sometimes looking up to see where they were heading. He figured out that a big dog like Akamaru probably enjoyed long walks. Kiba made a grunting noise, trying to coax an answer out of his companion.

The young Uchiha didn't know what to answer – that they weren't good enough, that they didn't do Naruto any justice, that there wasn't enough emotion in the sketches?

Perhaps because, while both answers were correct, it wasn't what they both knew would be the most honest. Sasuke felt Kiba's staring, and he could almost feel that the other knew. That it was an excuse – it was an excuse to see him again.

Naruto would make a great model, Sasuke was sure, and it was the perfect excuse to see him again. Just once more.

To Be Continued

I apologise for the shortness of this and it's sister-story (UCC). Please take some time to check that one out, and also take a look at my poll!