Summary: Should anyone ever look up the word paragon in the dictionary, they'd find a definition similar to: a model of perfection. Right next to that particular definition, they would also undoubtedly find a picture of Sasuke Uchiha. NaruSasu

Warnings: NaruSasu, which means yaoi. You have been warned. Other than that, the same warnings apply.

A/N: Personally, I love this story. The only thing that would make it better is if I weren't the one writing it, because then I could enjoy the plot a bit more.

So, here's chapter three. I don't know how long this story will be by the end. I'll try not to drag it out too far.

Oh, and I went to an Egypt Central concert last week! (Inspiration for Sasuke's hair in the future of this chapter…)


Paragon

Chapter Three

Author: Alley-Oop


It's finally Friday, and I'm so grateful that I call in sick to school. I'm still not feeling well. I think that seeing Kiba practically molest Sasuke has permanently knotted up my stomach, because I still seem to be ill.

Actually, I was more than a little surprised when I found out that he and Kiba had history together. Not just childhood friends kind of together, but the together kind of together. Hell, I'm just surprised to find out that Sasuke's gay. Well, I suppose he could be bi, but I think he's just gay. He never pays girls any mind at all.

After I collect this morning's mail, I sit down at the little round table (complete with two chairs and a small vase of flowers) in my apartment with my cup of warm cappuccino to look at what I've received. Two bills of some sort, which I toss aside, an ass load of junk mail (although the VISA card one is pretty appealing), and two letters. The first is from my old teacher and guardian, Iruka.

I look at his swirling cursive handwriting for a moment before carefully tearing into the envelope. I scan over it slowly, but it really doesn't say anything extremely important. Lots of gossip, some updates about his newest class, and just a small morsel of information on his and Kakashi's relationship- that's about it. I always like to read about Iruka and Kakashi. I guess it's just nice to know that I'm not the only gay man out there.

I eyeball the second envelope before deciding that it won't bite me. There's a return address, and I look at the name above it, which is what had me suspicious in the first place. Sasuke Uchiha, it reads in plain, slanted print. There doesn't seem to be anything special about it, although I can feel my heart ka booming in my chest with curiosity.

I tear the envelope carefully, having enough sense to save it, if for nothing more than the return address. It takes a lot of patience to open it slowly- I'm dying to know what it says.

When I finally do get it open, I find a letter containing the same neat print that the front sported. I rub my sore, tired eyes for a few moments before settling back down to read the letter.

Naruto,

Thanks again for what you did. You don't know how much I appreciate it. Kiba's a real bastard sometimes.

Anyway, there's a party at my place this weekend, and I'd like for you to come. And don't worry, Kiba won't be there. You could even come early if you feel like hanging out for a while.

Sasuke

The address and times are listed too, but I don't pay much attention to them, seeing as I'd forget them within the next thirty seconds anyway.

My head is spinning with questions and just plain old exhaustion as I decide to take a nap. I know that I probably shouldn't sleep in the middle of the day, but I'm just so tired that I think I might fall over. My cappuccino didn't even help one iota.

After hanging the letter/invitation on my fridge, I crawl into my bed and pull the covers up to my chin, feeling very chilly all of a sudden. Maybe I'm sicker than I'd originally thought.

However, my train of thought trickles away as a blissful fuzziness invades my mind.


Shikamaru is digging through my pile of clothes as I toss every article of my wardrobe onto my bed.

"This is hopeless!" I declare, but I dig in deeper anyway. I keep on pilfering until I get down to the stuff that I haven't worn since God knows when.

"Naruto, why are you so freaked out?"

"Because Sa-" I almost slip, but catch myself at the last second- "kura will be there." Shikamaru, as close as we are, doesn't know about me being gay, let alone my major crush on Konoha's number one heartthrob. It doesn't matter either way, because I would want to look good at a party even if Sasuke wasn't going to be there. The only difference is that Sasuke is going to be there, and I want him to melt when he looks at me.

"This is a cool shirt," Shikamaru says, tossing me a tight, royal blue tank with an orange dragon emblem on the right breast.

"I don't have anything that-" I start to say, but Shikamaru gives me a funny look after examining my heap of clothing.

"These would go just fine," he contradicts, tossing me a pair of low-rise, leather flare pants. I start to protest, but he gives me the "I'm right, you're wrong, now shut up and trust me" look, so I think better of it and slip the outfit on. He's right, and he had known that he was the entire time.

"So…" he says, popping up behind me to look in the mirror over my shoulder.

"So… it looks good. Thanks, Shikamaru," I say.

"We're not done yet," he tells me. He pushes me aside for access to my closet, then comes back out with a pair of boots that I had gotten as a prank one year and had forgotten about after my closet ate them.

"Um… no."

"Why not?"

"The idea is to not look like a dunce."

"Exactly."

He gives me that same look again, so I shut up and put them on. Honestly, I look like I'm about to go to work at a strip club, but it's a sexy look, and that's what I was shooting for.

Running a hand through my hair, I smirk triumphantly at my mirror.

"You gonna do something with that mop of yours, Naruto?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want your hair done?"

"Um…sure…"

Ten minutes later, I have a Mohawk of liberty spikes, and I have to hand it to Shikamaru. I never really thought he'd have it in him. I had thought that he'd make me into a dike, and then I'd have to change again before I left, but he really nailed the look that I wanted. Looking in my mirror, I have never felt hotter.

Shikamaru even went the extra mile and put eyeliner on me. Why he had it, I'll never know, but I don't really care, and I don't think he does either, so everything's good.

"Party time," I tell myself in the mirror, and I'm heading out, Shikamaru, who doesn't look so bad himself, on my heels.


When we get there, I can't believe that there's a party, so I check the letter a few times while Shikamaru's car idles on the corner of the property, awaiting further instruction.

"Is this it?" I ask, looking to the building.

"Yep," is the reply.

"You sure?" I persist.

"Positive."

I finally get up my nerve and tell Shikamaru that I'll go knock. However, I hesitate when I get to the door, and wonder if this is just a prank someone pulled. Everything here looks so empty. I begin to think that maybe Kiba set me up when Shikamaru honks. I hold up a finger for one minute, and think. If this is a joke, what's a good lie?

I got it! If it's a joke, I'll just tell Sasuke that Shikamaru and I are on our way out to go to an… underage club and we wanted to invite him along. Yeah, sounds good. Shikamaru was cool enough to just play along, after all, he wouldn't want to feel like an idiot for getting all dressed up for a nonexistent party either.

I take one last breath before I finally knock on the door. I hold my breath and think that I got off lucky when I hear nothing. I turn to leave just as the door flings open, a frazzled-looking Sasuke appearing. I turn back to face him, and he looks at my face in puzzlement for a moment before recognition flares across his features.

"Naruto! You're early," he tells me.

"Your letter said I could come early. Shikamaru's here, too."

Sasuke leans out the door to look at the car. "Oh, well, you guys can come in, but I'm still getting everything around. My parents' flight got delayed, so I'm kinda… in a hurry."

He opens the door and I motion to Shikamaru, who parks and comes inside with me. I'm slightly disappointed that Sasuke didn't comment on my attire or new look, but I understand his situation.

"What needs done?" I ask him. He rattles of a list from his head, and I set to work doing the small tasks that I can help with, like moving all the breakable things in the living room to Sasuke's parents' room, which will be locked during the party; helping to move the T.V. out of the way so that it won't be knocked over; rearranging furniture so that Sasuke can set up a snack table, which he does in record time; securing all the cupboards in the kitchen so that they're inaccessible to anyone but the people who helped to secure them; setting out plastic cups and plates. You name it, and we did it. I could tell that Sasuke appreciated the help by the way that he would smile gratefully at Shikamaru and me every time we did something.

Finally, we all collapsed onto the sofa (which was now covered to prevent stains or spills of any kind, yet still comfortable), exhausted.

"Naruto, Shikamaru, thank you guys so much. You don't know how long that would have taken."

"Hours," Shikamaru says.

"Hn," Sasuke says to no one in particular. He had done the most work the fastest out of any of us. In the time that I moved three breakables to his parents' room, he had moved at least eight or ten.

"Glad to help," I say. Sasuke's head floats to the side as he checks the time.

"Holy shit! I'm sorry, but I've got to get around. You guys can just chill for a while, right?"

"Sure thing."

Sasuke dashes to the stairs, hesitates at the bottom as if he might turn around and say something, and then quickly continues. I don't really notice though. I'm just now realizing that I'm in Sasuke's house.


I have never known anybody that got around so fast.

I have never known anybody that has looked so hot.

Sasuke Uchiha is fluttering between his quests, being the perfect party host. He is laughing, talking (more than I've ever seen him do in school), and he seems to be enjoying himself. Despite the fact that there are so many people here that I can't breathe and that the music is so loud that I have to scream to be heard, I'm enjoying myself. Shikamaru ditched me for some chick named Temari, but I don't mind. He deserves to have a good time, too. I'm having my own fair share of girls stalking me all over the place, but it's nothing compared to the flock that Sasuke's got collected. It's amazing how he handles it, though. He's talking to them, whispering secrets to them that make them giggle, and flirting openly with all of them. It's too bad that I know that it doesn't mean anything.

And there's dancing. It's almost like being at a club. It's not quite as nasty, and everything is a bit more composed, seeing as everyone is scared to ruin something of the Uchihas' (they could be rejected from future parties, rejected by Sasuke himself, or just be scared of being murdered in their sleep. Most of the damageable things are taken care of, though.), but it has the same general atmosphere about it.

I'm amazed at the mass of the party. People are stuffed like sardines into the house, and a few stragglers have even trickled into the yard. I slip away for a breath of fresh air, leaving behind my ever-growing fan club- the first, and probably the last, that I've ever had- for the crisp, night air. I retire to the steps of Sasuke's back porch, and lean back onto my elbows to listen to the hum of other conversing people and look at the stars.

I don't even notice when someone sits down next to me.

"Are you having fun?" I jump when I recognize Sasuke's voice.

"Yeah, this is really great." I can't help but run my eyes over him for the thousandth time that night. His low-rise, black leather pants are even lower than mine- so low, in fact, that I have to wonder how he's keeping everything in them- and his top, a sleeveless black vest with a Uchiha symbol for a zipper that leaves about a three inch gap between the top of his pants and bottom of his shirt, is tighter than my top, which is similar to a second layer of skin. On this three-inch gap of skin there is part of a black tattoo that swirls up from beneath the waistline of his leather pants and disappears underneath the vest. A black choker adorns his neck, with a chain leading from the front of it to clip to the waistband of his pants. It gleams teasingly, and I have never had to restrain myself from drooling so much in my entire life.

When my hungry eyes finally find their way to Sasuke's face again, I'm awestruck by his hair and makeup, for the thousandth time that night. His hair has been spiked up in huge clumps that stand at the very least six inches tall. His bangs are still down, too, though they're parted off to the side.

Surrounding his eyes are intricate swirls that make it look like a master calligrapher had done the task rather than a teenage boy. However, it's not the swirls that I'm captivated by, but his eyes themselves. They are blacker than they've ever been before, and I find myself sucked in and lost. I think I might see a star reflected in their contently gleaming depths, but I can't be sure.

"Let's dance," he suddenly tells me. He drags me by the arm back inside, and I'm happy to just have him touching me. All I can think is: "This is the best party ever!" over and over.


A/N: It was a pretty long chapter, so you'll have to forgive me for mistakes and the like.

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