The Sixth

Sasuke opened his eyes, instantly wishing he hadn't. The room was too bright, and his head felt heavy. The night before had left behind a dull throbbing in his skull.

He counted to ten and pushed himself up with a drawn-out groan. He sat there at the edge of his bed for a moment, regretting every possible choice he had made last night. He glimpsed at the digital clock on the nightstand, groaning again. It was only 7:15am—there was no reason to be up so early on a Sunday morning. He could not remember how late they had stayed at the club, but he couldn't have been asleep for long.

Sasuke forced himself off the bed, his head throbbing in protest. He was tired, but he also really needed a shower. He might as well start getting ready, even though there was no way that others would be awake yet. Sasuke knew Naruto well enough to know that he was probably still fast asleep—and would be for hours, if he had forgotten to set an alarm. Which, all things considered, had probably not been his top-priority last night.

Sasuke staggered to the bathroom, a bit disoriented but eager to freshen up. He dared to glance at his reflection in the mirror only briefly, and the sight was enough to make him grimace. He looked as tired as he felt, and for some reason there was glitter on his cheek.

The glitter reminded him vividly of last night—of the crowded dance floor and that blond-haired woman. She was most definitely the source of the cursed glitter. And she…

She had been dancing with Naruto.

That recollection was a slippery slope. First he was thinking about Naruto and dancing, and then about Naruto dancing with him—and then he remembered Naruto's hands on his hips, and…

It certainly would be better not to think about that.

With a deep exhale Sasuke dragged himself into the shower stall. He hoped that a cold shower could salvage some of the mess.

xxx

After the shower Sasuke felt more like himself again. He had washed and styled his hair, brushed his teeth, and even planned his outfit for the day. It felt ridiculous to spent so much time thinking about clothes, but he had some time to kill and nothing better to do. Besides, trying to decide what to wear was a good way to keep his mind occupied and stop it from wandering to a dangerous territory.

Sasuke had settled on a navy-blue polo shirt and dark green chinos. The outfit was casual enough for the breakfast, without being inappropriate for the golf course later. He wasn't thrilled about the idea of spending the day in the golf field under the blazing sun, but he would somehow have to power through. If he could just make it through the day and survive the dinner…

Speaking of dinner—there were certain things he couldn't avoid any longer. Like the fact that they were still expected to convince Mr. Igleheart to sign the contract.

The whole trip was turning out to be a farce. Mere hours ago Igleheart had been banned from the nightclub for molesting the bartender, and now they were expected to spend the day sucking up to him.

Mr. Igleheart was clearly a more sinister character than they had initially thought—and that led to a new problem. If Mr. Igleheart wasn't as respectable as they had thought, could the possible funding from him eventually compromise their company? If the media were to find out about last night, it would certainly be a scandal.

Nevertheless, they needed the funding in order to pursue new projects. In the end there was nothing Sasuke could do about it—it wasn't his call to make.

Sasuke got dressed while contemplating different scenarios. It was possible that Mr. Sowenger had in fact already been aware of Mr. Igleheart's flawed nature and had decided to go on with the deal anyway. All was fair in love and business, after all.

It was 8:34am when he grabbed his phone and wallet from the nightstand. He had a certain co-worker who was going to sleep through breakfast unless someone would wake him up.

xxx

Sasuke had knocked two times already, first politely rapping the door with his knuckles, then with more force—hopefully not loud enough to wake anybody sleeping next door.

After the third time Sasuke finally heard someone moving behind the door. There was the unmistakable sound of someone stumbling on something, followed by loud cursing. Then, a moment later, the door finally opened.

Naruto was standing there, his blond hair a complete mess.

"You", Naruto groaned. "What do you want?"

Sasuke didn't answer, because it was suddenly hard to find words. Naruto was shirtless, wearing only his boxers. He had undoubtedly been asleep just moments ago, because there was still a sleepy look in his eyes and pillow marks on his cheek—and it was way too early for Sasuke to be noticing something like that.

It most definitely was way too early to be staring at that tanned skin and broad shoulders and toned abs and—was that a tattoo on his midriff?

Horrified, Sasuke forced his gaze back up, summoning his trademark glare back on his face. "Hn", he finally managed, intelligently.

Naruto narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"I", Sasuke forced out, his voice a little hollow, "came to wake you up. We are supposed to have breakfast with Mr. Igleheart."

"Oh", Naruto said. And then, with more urgency; "Oh! Why didn't you... Jesus, how late is it already–? I can't believe–!"

With that Naruto staggered back to his room, stumbling on something again. He left the door open, and for a while Sasuke just hovered there in the corridor, not sure of what to do.

Then, for a reason he couldn't understand, Sasuke stepped in, pulling the door closed behind him.

The room was a complete mess. Naruto had somehow managed to explode the contents of his suitcase around the room and was now digging through the pile of clothes on his bed. The long line of his back was stretched out, the muscles flexing with every move while he ransacked the pile.

Sasuke swallowed weakly. He glued his eyes to the wallpaper, trying to fake an interest in the uninspiring patterns—it was different than the muted beige wallpaper from his room, but just as dull.

He pushed his hands in his pockets, not knowing what else to do with them. Distantly he wondered if he was coming down with something. His face felt oddly warm, and that had been happening quite often lately.

"Goddammit", Naruto mumbled, tossing another shirt into his apparent no-pile. "Don't tell me I forgot to pack my lucky shirt!"

That made Sasuke momentarily forget the awkwardness of the situation. "Are you serious?"

"What?"

"Your lucky shirt?" Sasuke scoffed. "What are you, five?"

"I'll have you know", Naruto declared, "that I take golfing very seriously."

"I'm actually surprised that you could remember the schedule", Sasuke mused, glancing back at Naruto. "I just assumed you had a lucky shirt for the breakfast buffet."

"Hah", Naruto said, continuing his search. "Very clever."

The sun streamed in through the window, illuminating the room with the morning light. Naruto's tanned skin was bathed in the coppery tones of the sunlight, the lines of his body softened by it. His hair—still dishevelled from the night before—was gold. There was a half-smile on his lips, and he—

He looked so–

Sasuke took a horrified step back.

An unmistakable warmth was creeping up his neck and spreading to his cheeks. Sasuke tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly tight.

It was all too much.

He should go back to his room—or better yet, get as far away as possible. Something was slowly changing, and Sasuke wasn't sure that he liked it.

"Yes!" Naruto exclaimed, pulling up a shirt from the pile of clothes. "Nothing can stop me now."

"Great", Sasuke said dryly. He squeezed his hands into fists inside his pockets. "Now, if only you had the skills required to get dressed. Then perhaps we wouldn't be late for breakfast."

"Yes, mom", Naruto huffed, pulling the shirt over his head. When his face reappeared, he looked thoughtful. "Listen", he said, "about last night…"

"Last night?" Sasuke repeated, thankful for the change of subject. "You mean Mr. Igleheart getting banned from the nightclub?"

"Uh, sure. That, too. I did say that he seemed a bit shady."

"And you were right", Sasuke said. Then, with a meaningful glance towards Naruto, he added: "It would be wise to not get too friendly with him. After we have his signature, there's no reason to associate with him."

"Yeah", Naruto said. He shifted a bit on the bed, averting his gaze. "But that wasn't… I mean– I actually…actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

"Go ahead", Sasuke said, "but hurry up or else you'll make us late."

"Sure, I–" Naruto swallowed, rubbing his neck. "So, about last night. I didn't mean to…you know. Be so forceful."

"That…", Sasuke tried, confused. "What?"

"On the dance floor, I–", Naruto frowned, his blue eyes meeting Sasuke's gaze. "I'm sorry, alright?"

"That's–" Sasuke had not been expecting that. In all their years working together they had both done plenty of things that warranted an apology, but this was the first time either of them had actually said they were sorry.

Sasuke cleared his throat, perplexed. "That's okay. You were drunk. You don't have to apologize."

"Still", Naruto insisted, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's fine", Sasuke reassured. He didn't really feel like re-visiting the memories from last night any more than he already had. Some things were better left alone.

Naruto nodded, but didn't continue on the subject. He had turned his attention back to another pile of clothes in an apparent effort to find a pair of pants.

After a moment of silence Naruto stopped. "Hey", he said, his voice a bit uncertain. "Why did you come wake me up? You could have let me sleep through breakfast. Certainly would have gained you more points from Mr. Igleheart."

"Nobody's keeping a score, idiot." Sasuke said. "Besides, it would give a bad impression if you didn't show up. We are both representing Mr. Sowenger and the company, after all."

"I guess", Naruto said.

"Also", Sasuke continued, a smirk tugging at his lips, "I had to come check that the blonde hooker from last night didn't follow you up here and murder you in your sleep. That would be a PR scandal for the company."

"Tiffany isn't a hooker", Naruto retorted. He looked thoughtful for a second, then he shrugged. "Besides", he said, "I prefer brunets."

Sasuke could feel his face heat up again for some godforsaken reason. The reaction wasn't rational, because he knew that Naruto didn't mean it like that. Didn't mean–

Well. Naruto wasn't talking about anyone in particular. That would be–

That would–

Luckily, Naruto wasn't silent for long. "Anyhow", he said, matter-of-factly, "I don't think we're allowed to say hooker anymore. I think the correct term would be sex worker."

"Sure", Sasuke muttered, daring to turn his gaze back to Naruto.

Naruto was grinning. "You could have just called if you wanted to wake me up, you know. There was no real need to come up here."

"You say that as if your phone isn't on silent", Sasuke pointed out, and Naruto's expression proved him that he was right.

"I am very touched by your concern", Naruto said. His grin was back. "Doesn't mean I'll go easy on you on the golf course, though."

That forced a smirk on Sasuke's lips. "I Wouldn't dream of it, dobe."

xxx

The breakfast was as uneventful as breakfasts can be. Mr. Igleheart had shown up late, of course, making a huge spectacle of his entry. Then he had proceeded to eat three oversized stacks of pancakes with bacon and maple syrup—without so much as a word about anything that had happened the night before.

Sasuke had kept an eye on Mr. Igleheart—just in case—but the breakfast had been an almost pleasant ordeal, filled with regular business talk and nothing too scandalous.

The hours they spent on the golf course weren't too action-packed either.

It was a tedious game, but Igleheart was very much enjoying himself. Sasuke, on the other hand, had never understood the appeal of golf. It was too slow paced for his liking, and with prospective business associates it always ended up being more talk than actual golfing. And this time certainly wasn't any different.

Mr. Igleheart had been chatting them up while playing, going over some numbers and asking them questions about the latest news on information technology. However, for the duration of most of the game, Igleheart kept blabbering on about different golf techniques and the club types, going as far as making a list of his preferred club numbers and then going on a rant about his distaste in hybrid clubs.

To Sasuke's chagrin, Mr. Igleheart seemed to be very interested in Naruto—mainly in his form and the way he was holding the golf club. Naruto was actually a decent golfer, but he didn't seem to mind Igleheart's ramblings. It was as if Naruto had forgotten about the talk he'd had with Sasuke about not getting too friendly with Mr. Igleheart.

xxx

After spending what felt like an eternity under the scorching midday sun—pretending to be interested in whatever Mr. Igleheart was saying—Sasuke was utterly relieved to be back at the hotel.

It took a few moments and an ice-cold shower for Sasuke to finally start feeling like himself again. He slumped onto his bed, not bothering to change out of his bathrobe just yet. He was tired and definitely overheated—and very close to being sunburnt. A glance in the mirror had proved that is cheeks were discolored from the sun, and it wasn't a good look on him.

Sasuke sighed, staring up at the ceiling-fan spinning above the bed. He still had some time to kill before the dinner, and he had just decided to take a nap, when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grunted in annoyance, turning a bit to reach the phone from its place.

There was a message from Mr. Sowenger.

Is everything going according to our initial plan?, the message read, Keep me updated.

For a brief moment Sasuke considered not answering. This whole weekend had been a disaster from the scenic cruise of horrors to the dance floor, not to mention the agonizing hours trying to hit a tiny white ball with an unnecessary precision. He had dealt with a huge amount of unnecessary suffering and complicated thoughts involving his happy-go-lucky co-worker, and Sasuke was so tired.

But those were his personal feelings, and this was work—and unnecessary suffering was a part of his job description, more or less.

Everything is under control, Sasuke wrote, swallowing all ill feelings. He will sign the contract tonight.

Sasuke hit send and tossed the phone away. He closed his eyes and listened to the low hum of the air-conditioning.

He dozed off while dreaming of a possibility of an early retirement and buying a small house somewhere in Tuscany.