They saved some of the business talk for later. After the dinner they had retired into a small parlour to enjoy refreshments and to continue the conversation. There wasn't a lot left to negotiate, since Mr. Igleheart had made his own terms very clear from the get-go with Mr. Sowenger and the company. Now it was just a matter of finding some common ground and work out the finer details.

That, at least, had been the initial plan.

During the evening—and after several rounds of drinks that Mr. Igleheart had coaxed them into ordering—the conversation had completely derailed from the original subject.

Sasuke didn't know for sure, but he was fairly certain that Mr. Igleheart and Naruto were currently talking about football. Naruto had propped up his feet on the coffee table, and he looked utterly relaxed—although the conversation he was absorbed in was turning into a heated debate.

Sasuke couldn't quite bring himself to take part in any of it. He was busy keeping an eye on Mr. Igleheart.

During the dinner Igleheart had leaned way too close to Naruto in several occasions. Naruto hadn't seemed to be too bothered by it, but the memory of it was enough to make Sasuke's skin crawl with a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. Nevertheless, he was determent to not let it happen again.

To Sasuke's relief, Naruto was presently sitting in a small couch next to him, away from Mr. Igleheart, who was seated in an overly cushioned armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Due to the distance Igleheart couldn't reach over or lean too close.

Sasuke knew that Naruto could take care of himself, of course, but he was worried that Naruto could perhaps be too trusting—or too naïve—to see that Mr. Igleheart could potentially be dangerous.

Sasuke loosened his tie with a sigh. His fingers were a bit clumsy and his hands felt warm. He knew that he had most definitely had too much to drink, but in this case it couldn't be helped. Mr. Igleheart had yet to sign the contract, and without his signature they couldn't call it a night. Besides, Kakashi had disappeared at some point, and they were now stuck with Igleheart at least until his assistant came back to collect him. Not that Mr. Igleheart was in any hurry to leave. He was too busy chugging yet another drink.

Mr. Igleheart had apparently made it his mission to get them all drunk two nights in a row. It was an occupational hazard that Sasuke usually avoided whenever he could, but getting drunk was mainly what they had signed up for when they had agreed to entertain a potential investor.

Sasuke glanced at his own glass laying on the table, empty for now. He thought about filling it again, just to have something to do with his hands—but he gave up on that as he didn't wish for a repetition of the headache he'd had that morning. Besides, it was still possible that the last two shots hadn't kicked in yet, and he needed to keep his wits about him if things got out of hand.

Naruto smacked his hands against the table with an unnecessary force, and Sasuke flinched at the loud noice.

"You can't be serious", Naruto exclaimed. "There's no way that an art film made by some French guy could ever beat any of Michael Bay's movies!"

Mr. Igleheart looked almost appalled. "You can't possibly judge a film without seeing it. In fact…" he slurred, "there's a TV in my–"

"More whiskey, sir?" Sasuke interrupted, his voice cold. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table and nudged it towards Mr. Igleheart in order to side-track him. This was precisely what he had been worried about.

"Ah, why not", Mr. Igleheart mused, placing his glass on the table so Sasuke could fill it. "Why not indeed."

Sasuke filled Mr. Igleheart's glass to the brim with the amber liquid, and slid the glass back across the table. He hoped the drink would distract the billionaire long enough to give him chance to steer the conversation into safe waters. That, of course, was a futile hope.

"Well?" Mr. Igleheart inquired, "Surely you won't let me drink alone?"

"I, uh…" Sasuke glanced at his own glass. He hadn't planned on drinking anymore—he had only wanted to intervene before Igleheart found a way to lure Naruto in his room with promises of a movie night.

"Shame on you", Igleheart continued, a wide smirk on his wrinkled face. "You are just trying to get me drunk so you can coax me into signing a lousy contract, aren't you?"

"Of course not, sir", Sasuke offered hurriedly. He knew Mr. Igleheart wasn't being serious, just merely trying to coax them into drinking with him, but there still was no way to refuse without sounding rude. With a resigned sigh Sasuke filled his own glass, although he knew it was a bad idea. Then he turned to Naruto, offering the bottle towards him in a silent question.

Naruto, a grin on his lips, lifted his glass, and Sasuke reached over to fill it. Sasuke could feel Naruto's eyes on him, and suddenly his hands weren't as steady as he would have liked. Some of the whiskey sloshed over the brim and onto Naruto's fingers.

"Hey, watch it", Naruto complained, an absolutely offended look on his face.

"Hn", Sasuke retorted, placing the bottle back on the table with a dull clink. Then, for some unfathomable reason he added; "sorry."

Naruto looked surprised for a second, then his grin grew wider. "Wait, wait… Did I hear you right? Did I truly live to see the day when the mighty Sasuke Uchiha tells me he's…sorry?"

Sasuke sipped the whiskey, trying to hide the fact that he was as surprised as the blond. "There must be something wrong with your ears, dobe", he smirked, completely disregarding the fact that they were supposed to act civilized in present company.

Naruto's smile was a bit lopsided, and almost soft somehow. "At least my aim is better than yours", he said. Then he brought his fingers to his lips and licked the whiskey off them.

The air caught in Sasuke's throat. He quickly turned his gaze away, a sudden warmth rushing to his face.

Mr. Igleheart cleared his throat. "We were talking about movies, weren't we?" he slurred, his glass barely staying in an upright position. His words were clipped short, the R's and S's soft in a way they usually were when someone was inebriated.

"Yes, sir", Naruto called out. "I just told you how much French films suck."

Mr. Igleheart tutted in a condescending manner, downing the rest of his drink in one gulp. He was silent for a while after that, staring at his now empty glass. For a short moment Sasuke was sure the man was about to pass out on the spot. Instead, Igleheart placed the glass on the table, struggling a bit to get up from the couch. And Naruto, of course, offered a hand to the older man, helping him to his feet.

"Thank you, my boy", Mr. Igleheart slurred, patting Naruto on the shoulder. "We really must go golfing again sometime. But right now… I think I should go back to my room."

"But the contract–" Naruto tried, but Mr. Igleheart silenced him with a drunken wave of his hand.

"The contract can wait till tomorrow", Igleheart hummed, swaying a bit on his feet. "I will see you at breakfast. Say, around 10:00am?"

"Sure thing", Naruto answered, offering a mock-salute to Mr. Igleheart.

Sasuke stood up, politely wishing Mr. Igleheart good night. It might have been wiser to persuade him to sign the contract now, so he didn't have a chance to change his mind, but Igleheart looked like he was truly about to pass out. Sasuke did not want to be held responsible if the old man were to keel over due to alcohol poisoning or liver failure.

Naruto slumped back on the couch as soon as the door closed behind Mr. Igleheart. "I'm beat", he huffed.

Sasuke didn't answer, but he sat back down next to Naruto. His head was spinning and being seated felt like a more sensible choice.

Naruto grabbed his glass and downed the rest of his whiskey with one swig, clinking the glass back on the table. "That went pretty well, right?", Naruto murmured then, to Sasuke's surprise.

"I wouldn't say that", Sasuke groaned, reaching out for his own glass almost instinctively. "I was hoping we would have gotten rid of him tonight. Now we are forced to deal with him in the morning."

"It wasn't so bad", Naruto said.

"Oh, really?" Sasuke said, glancing pointedly at Naruto. "You are too trusting, you know that?"

"I am not", Naruto argued.

"Sure", Sasuke hummed, swirling the remnants of his drink in the glass, watching the liquid glimmer in the low light. "Weren't you just about to go up to his room to watch a movie?"

"I wasn't", Naruto said, but he looked somewhat uncertain.

"It would be best to stay away from him", Sasuke continued. "Don't take him up on his offer to go golfing, either."

"I know that." Naruto rolled his eyes. "I don't need you to babysit me."

"Well", Sasuke smirked, "somebody has to."

Naruto glanced at him, a pissed-off look in his eyes. "You sound like my mom. I'm only a year younger than you, you know?"

"I know", Sasuke said, "but at times it is hard to believe."

"Well, you better believe it", Naruto said. "At least you will finally shut up when I snatch that promotion from right under your nose!"

"In your dreams, dobe."

"Aww", Naruto countered, "pretty bold of you to assume that I would waste my nights dreaming of anything that was even vaguely related to you."

"So you say", Sasuke scoffed and sipped his drink just so that he had something to do. "And yet", he continued, "you are oddly fixated on me."

"Am not!"

Sasuke glanced at Naruto, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You have been pestering me ever since we started working together. And you were quite handsy last night", he said, the alcohol making him bolder than what was probably safe. "Felt a bit like you had wanted to do that for quite some time."

Naruto's face turned red so violently, that Sasuke almost felt sorry for him.

"I–" Naruto tried, the blush reaching the tips of his ears. "I just. That's not– I was just trying to stop you from ruining our image in front of a very important as– asoc… associate. You sh-should thank me."

Naruto was clearly drunk. Sasuke wasn't sure how he had not realized it sooner. The slurred words were a dead giveaway. Sasuke snorted at that. "You're drunk."

"Yeah, well", Naruto pouted, "so are you."

"I am not", Sasuke lied, lowering his now-empty glass back on the table. His tongue felt a bit clumsy.

"You so are", Naruto laughed, picking up the bottle of whiskey from the table and taking another long swig. He turned to grin at Sasuke. "You are druuuuunk, Sasssssuke."

Sasuke tried to ignore the coiling sensation in his stomach—tried not to think too hard how the syllables of his name fell from Naruto's lips. He reached out to wrench the bottle away from Naruto. "Clearly not as drunk as you", he said pointedly, placing the bottle further away from the blond.

"I have a higher tolerance than you", Naruto argued. "More practice, I think."

"That's not something to be proud of", Sasuke said. "Besides, we all can't afford to show up to work hungover."

Naruto narrowed his eyes at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sasuke snorted again, barely containing an eye-roll. "Some of us have to actually follow the rules."

"What are you implying?"

Sasuke shrugged. "Mr. Sowenger has a soft spot for you. He's not going to fire you for showing up late and endangering a deadline just because you got drunk the night before. The rest of us might not be as lucky."

"That happened once", Naruto said. There was a somewhat pensive look in his eyes. "If you mean to imply that Mr. Sowenger is somehow playing favourites–"

"And you think that isn't the case? Anyone else would have gotten fired immediately, but Mr. Sowenger is so terrified of your father–"

Naruto flinched. "How dare you."

Sasuke didn't know what to say to that. He had not meant to butcher their short-lived comradery by bringing up Naruto's father. The alcohol had loosened his tongue, and the words had been there, right at the tip of his tongue, and it had been so easy to let them slip.

There was, however, some truth in his words. Naruto's father was one of the most influential people in their city—perhaps even in the whole state. It would not be too far-fetched to assume that he could make Mr. Sowenger's life very difficult.

Nevertheless, Sasuke knew that he was being unfair. Naruto was more than capable at handling things without asking for his father's help, and he really was good at his job—this weekend had certainly proven it. Naruto's careless attitude was the only flaw that Sasuke could point out, and even that was a vice only occasionally.

"Forget it", Sasuke sighed. He was too drunk to handle the conversation or anything that came with it. "We should probably call it a night."

"We are not finished", Naruto said tersely. "You have the nerve–!"

"I told you to forget it." Sasuke said. He wanted to say he was sorry for saying anything—especially something so rude—but he had a feeling it would only make things worse. Things always got worse when they spoke. It would be better to let it be.

Sasuke placed his hand on the armrest in order to hoist himself up from the couch. The attempt was cut short, however, when Naruto grasped his other arm.

"How fucking dare you", Naruto whispered. His voice was rough, the syllables sharp around the edges.

Sasuke could not help the smug grin that nudged at his lips. It was a reflex—a knee-jerk reaction to Naruto's apparent frustration. They had been going back and forth with their insults for years, and by now it was impossible to stop. "We both know I'm right", he said.

It was, all things considered, a low blow. And it crossed the line.

Naruto's hands grasped Sasuke's collar, and for a fleeting moment Sasuke was certain that Naruto was going to punch him. Instead, Naruto pulled him closer, a dark look in his blue eyes.

"You", Naruto gnarled through his teeth, emphasizing every word, "are the worst."

Sasuke could feel Naruto's breath on his skin—could smell the alcohol lingering on Naruto's breath—and the sudden closeness made his head reel. Sasuke squeezed his hands around Naruto's wrists, trying to wrestle free from the grip. Naruto's skin was hot against his fingers, and Sasuke was quite certain this was the first time he had touched Naruto like this—skin on skin. It was just his wrists, but it felt almost intimate, somehow.

They were too close and too drunk, and it was too much. But Naruto didn't let go, just leaned in closer instead.

"Fuck you", Naruto hissed.

The words, spoken like a proposition, made Sasuke's stomach throb. His head was spinning. "Well", he said, "if you insist."

There was a fraction of a second when Naruto's breath hitched, and Sasuke swallowed forcefully to get rid of the tightness in his throat. He squeezed Naruto's wrists harder. He could feel the pulse there, beneath his fingertips. Naruto was so close—too close—and Sasuke couldn't help it; he leaned a bit closer still.

Naruto's eyes widened, and then his gaze wandered lower, and it took Sasuke exactly two seconds to realize that Naruto was now staring at his lips.

Sasuke knew what was about to happen, but it still took him by surprise.

Naruto yanked at Sasuke's collar, and then he closed the distance between them, and their mouths met, finally.

It was rough and impatient, like fire and smoke, and it was the first sip of water after being thirsty for too long. It was soft velvet, and then Naruto deepened the kiss—and it was like fighting.

Sasuke pulled Naruto close and wrapped his arms around him. Their teeth clinked against each other and Sasuke moaned into Naruto's mouth. He was too drunk to be properly mortified, and soon it didn't even matter, because he coaxed a breathy whimper from Naruto's lips.

Naruto was eager to push their bodies together, and Sasuke wondered distantly whether he should be resisting, even just a little bit. They were both clearly drunk, and the last shot of whiskey hadn't even kicked in yet. But it was all so dizzying and chaotic and wonderful, and Sasuke craned his neck a bit to adjust the angle.

Naruto's hands left the shirt collar and wandered downwards, stopping at Sasuke's hips, and Sasuke felt more alive than in months. His skin was hyper-sensitive when Naruto slipped a hand under the shirt and let his fingers explore the skin. Sasuke was acutely aware of how long it had been since he had done anything like this—and it certainly had never felt quite like this.

Sasuke's hands slid up Naruto's back, caressing his neck and the soft hair on his nape, until he could finally sink his fingers fully into Naruto's hair. Naruto moaned into the kiss, his body trembling, and Sasuke pulled him closer, desperate to feel more of that warmth.

He needed more.

When the urge to breathe forced them apart, Naruto seized the opportunity and maneuvered them both up from the couch. Sasuke placed his hands on Naruto's hips, partly to steady himself and partly to pull Naruto back against him. They kissed again; hungry, desperate—all greedy hands and impatient tongues.

The room was spinning and the bottle of whiskey fell to the carpet with a dull thud when they staggered away from the couch and towards the elevator, still absorbed in the kiss.

How they managed to stumble into the elevator, Sasuke had no idea. Naruto pressed the button, and the elevator doors closed behind them.