"Fuudge," I chanted, holding the precious package of chocolate and peanut butter mixed personal piece of heaven close to my chest, the medium sized box occasionally bouncing in my grasp as the station wagon hit a bump on the highway. Sasuke had given up on telling me to just shut up and eat the damn thing, because not only did I ignore him when he said that, but I shunned him. Yes, I shunned the love of my life (thus far) in favor of chocolate peanut butter flavored fudge. What? Fudge is good. I shall now go into a long-winded rant on how good fudge is.
But first, I shall tell you why chocolate is good. It is nearly physically proven that chocolate does in fact make you better when you're sick, plus doctors (the ones who tell us wine is good for your heart) say that dark chocolate is very healthy indeed. But I don't like dark chocolate. I much prefer milk chocolate and, the gods' gift to the humans from the heavens, white chocolate. Now don't get me wrong: I'm not racist against chocolates, I just like the creaminess and abnormality of white chocolate far better than the bitter-sweet taste of dark chocolate. Seriously. When you think of chocolate, you immediately envision the milky brown color; thinking of the creamy white color isn't as popular as the alternative. Chocolate is good because there are just so many varieties. Kisses, bars, king-sized bars, mini-bars, and, my personal favorite for obvious reasons, peanut butter chocolate cups. Oh, my precious, precious peanut butter chocolate cups. How I love thee. They same chocolate is a girl's second best thing (next to diamonds), and I would firmly debate that it is a girl's first best friend, except for the fact that I am not a girl. Even if I did wear a cami. And I do state now, and will continue to steadily support the fact that camis are not only for girls.
Anyway, fudge is good because it has chocolate in it. Chocolate-peanut butter fudge is even better because it has PEANUT BUTTER in it, as well as CHOCOLATE!
Ah yes, that was so long winded wasn't it?
"Sasuke, what would chocolate-peanut butter ramen taste like?" I asked, thinking about the three loves of my life: Sasuke, ramen, and chocolate-peanut butter. We can't leave out the precious ramen, now can we?
"I don't know what it would taste like, nor would I like to find out, thank you," Sasuke replied, not even looking up from his Mario Kart Racing. "And I thought you were shunning me."
"Well, now I'm not," I said, sticking my tongue out at him in the most responsible and mature way I could think of.
"Brilliant comeback," he muttered, pressing several buttons at once for some sort of combo. "And sometimes I wonder why you aren't already a senior."
I, being the genius I am, ignored him, and decided I should eat my fudge. Because fudge is good, and needs to be eaten before it melts into fudge soup. And even though fudge soup is just as good, I had with me no spoon. So sad. I shall mourn my lack of spoon.
Taking my own sweet time, I began gently unfolding the covers of the box, my mouth already watering at the very thought of the melt-in-your-mouth chocolate-peanut butter artificially flavored fudge. Once the box was completely opened, I looked down. There was my fudge, but next to it was an unidentified bottle. Confused, I picked it up. Sasuke happened to look up at me at that exact same time.
"Naruto?" he asked carefully. I looked at him. Why would he say my name carefully? It's not like he could drop it and it would shatter like glass. My name is made out of a very hard wood. Something you can't break. You can only saw it in half with a very large chainsaw…chainsaws are fun. "Would you mind telling me why there was lube in your fudge?"
It took me a couple of seconds to register that.
"Oh. My. God!" I screamed, holding it out as far as I could, pushing my body up against the car door in an attempt to get further away from it.
"Don't give it to me!" Sasuke shouted, also pushing himself against his own side of the car.
"You're the one who's most likely to use it!" I countered, even though I hoped that he would use it…on me.
"I've got my own thanks!" Cue awkward silence. It was soon broken by Tsunade's near-hysterical laughing. Sasuke and I both clutched the car doors as the station wagon swerved a little on the road.
"Nice!" she said, directing the comment at Sasuke, who was now blushing furiously, as was I.
"Shut up, you old hag," he muttered. She frowned at him.
"Oh, come on Sasuke, no one can have too much lube!" she called over her shoulder, though her attention was at least sixty percent focused on the road. "I mean, think of how much you want to use on—"
"I said shut up, you old hag!" Sasuke practically yelled, his eyes widened completely, his face extremely red, and his head going left and right desperately.
I pouted. Sasuke liked someone else? Great. I could try and out-seduce him, but I don't think that's work the way I'd like it to. What was it that Kiba said Tuesday? 'Nothing that a gallon of alcohol and a big bed can't fix'? And didn't Sakura say that there was going to be a lot of alcohol at the party tomorrow night? Hm…this could be something I could look into.
No, that wouldn't work either. I sighed a great heaving sigh. Why'd you have to do this to me, Sasuke.
I could really use that fudge right about now, I though and broke off a piece from the box, nibbling at it.
The rest of the road trip passed quickly, filled with at least two more rest stops, several sing-a-longs, including songs by the All American Rejects, Gavin DeGraw, Linkin' Park, and yes, even the Eagles, and falling asleep oh-so-subtly on Sasuke. It was a productive car ride, if I do say so myself. Before long, Tsunade was pulling up into Sasuke's mansion's driveway. Surprisingly, there were two other cars that neither me nor Sasuke could remember anyone we know driving them.
"Whozat?" I asked Sasuke, pointing at the cars. He shrugged.
"I dunno. Wanna come in and find out?" he asked, unbuckling his seat belt. I nodded.
"You guys go on in, I'll just sit and wait here," Tsunade baachan said, cutting the engine. Sasuke reached into the back-back and grabbed the giant wolf plushie and his computer bag, leaving me to grab the pillow and his clothes bag. We piled out of the car, using our respective sides (Sasuke scrambling over me to get out on my side, me sliding over to his side) and made our way to the grand front door. No, we used the back door, because the front one is always locked, and besides no one ever used that since the funeral.
When we walked in, we saw Itachi leaning on the kitchen counter, a cup of apple juice in one of his hands, chatting amiably with three other men (or so I could assume, since Itachi was known to befriend feminine males…). That in and of itself was disturbing. Itachi himself was wearing a fishnet shirt, and tight black jeans. His long, black hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and I could see purple finger nail polish on both his finger and toenails. The next man I noticed was very tall, and his skin was, oddly enough, tinted blue. He had what looked like gills tattooed on his cheeks, and his hair looked like it was died a dark blue. His tee shirt, which had ripped sleeves, had a picture of a fish on it, and he wore some baggy jeans. He too had purple nails. The most feminine of them all (Itachi included, and that's saying a lot) was a little bit shorter than Itachi, and had long blonde hair, some of it pulled up in the back, some let loose, and some covering his left eye. His blue eyes (eye…the only one that I could see, at least) were nicely accented by some black eyeliner, and he wore an outfit similar to Itachi's, fishnet shirt and jeans-from-the-teenaged-girls'-department.
The strangest (but overall, most friendly-looking) of the men was a fellow who looked like he could have been a cousin of Sasuke's. And a cousin of mine. I say that only because he seemed to be obsessed with the color orange, much like myself. His black hair was spiked, and had orange-dyed tips. His tee shirt, also orange, had black lines curving out of dot on the right side; it looked much like the hurricanes I had to draw in fourth grade. He wore brown cargo pants, and was about the same height as Sasuke. Even his eyes were similar to Sasuke's. Maybe they're related…
"Little brother!" Itachi squealed, dropping his glass, and running over to squeeze Sasuke within five years of his life. "I thought you died!"
Okay, so remember when I said that he lived with his older brother who honestly didn't give a crap whether the younger boy was alive or not? Well, what I meant to say was that Itachi was extremely bipolar, and mental. Half the year, he was crazy, in the bad way, and the other half he was the sweet, lovable, almost childish older brother that everyone would kill to have.
"Uh, Itachi?" I said, looking over at Sasuke, who was steadily beginning to look like the blue guy, meaning that he was turning blue, not growing gills. Itachi paused to look over at me. "I think you're strangling him…he can't breathe."
"Oh, you're right, Naru-kun!" he said, using some Japanese suffix, and immediately dropped his little brother, who flopped about, gasping for air, much like a fish. Once he had regained his breath and composure, Sasuke turned to Itachi.
"Oh brother mine, who, dare I ask, are these people?" Sasuke asked in his 'business voice,' gesturing at the three men; the orange-obsessed one was annoying the blonde one, and the tall one was looking at us in amusement. Itachi looked at Sasuke blankly, before dawning a look of understanding.
"Right!" Itachi practically pirouetted over to the blue man, and hung off his arm; the taller man rolled his eyes, but didn't give any other signs of not encouraging the mental man. "This, baby brother, is my boyfriend, Kisame. Kisame, this is my baby brother Sasuke and his boyfriend, Naruto."
Both of us turned red at Itachi's introduction, and Sasuke immediately spluttered, "H-he's not my boyfriend, he's my best friend."
Itachi scoffed. "Best friend, boy friend, not much difference."
Sasuke wisely changed the subject. I sighed in relief. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend," he commented.
"I thought I mentioned to you a couple days ago that my boyfriend and a couple of my friends are moving in…" Itachi mused, half to himself.
"A couple days ago, I was at Naruto's," Sasuke said.
"Oh! Maybe I was talking to my reflection…"
"Whatever, so who exactly are your friends?"
"Right!" Itachi then flounced over the blond haired man. No wonder gays get those stereotypes; just look at Itachi. "This, dear brother and dear brother's fuck buddy, is Deidara. He's an artist!"
Sasuke, who had sat in one of the barstools by the counter had immediately done a face-flop onto the granite countertop at the mention of me and him being fuck buddies. I had the distinct feeling of wanting the earth to swallow me and immerse me in a Sasuke-filled dream.
Taking our silence (meaning lack of vocal comments) to mean that we wished him to continue, Itachi pranced (what's with him?) over to the shortest man. "This, darling little brother and darling little brother's dirty little secret—"
"WOULD YOU SHUT UP?!"
"—is Tobi. I don't know why he's here…"
"He wouldn't let go of my arm, un," Deidara said sarcastically, holding up one of his arms, which Tobi was grasping.
"But sempai," Tobi whined, reminding me of…well, myself, "I already told you: my hand fell into the glue in your studio before we got evicted for paintballing the old lady across the hall."
"That was art, yeah!" Deidara growled. Everyone near took a step back, except for Tobi who, even through he tried, was yanked back because of his hand being attached to his friend's arm. Sasuke stared at Deidara and Tobi for a minute before turning to his brother.
"So who's bottom?" he asked as if it was the most normal thing to ask. Tobi immediately raised his hand and waved it around.
"I am!" he shouted. I felt my eyes widen; no one, except maybe me, was that stupid. Deidara whacked him upside his head.
"You idiot! He wasn't talking to you, un!" the blond man shouted, his face burning almost as much as Sasuke and mine had. Almost. But not quite. He had several shades of red to go before he could even rival my blush, it was just that awesomely red.
"Ignoring the fact that Tobi just ruined whatever secrecy Deidara had hoped for to hide their relationship, to answer your question, little brother, it is none of your business," Itachi replied, causing me to take a few minutes before I caught up with what he just said. I giggled quietly. Naturally, I was the last to laugh, alongside Tobi of course.
"'He who laughs last thinks slowest,'" quoted Kisame. Tobi and I stuck our tongues out at him.
"Are you two related or something?" asked Itachi, looking from Tobi, to me, to Tobi, then back again at me.
"God have mercy on our souls if there are two people in this world like Naruto," Sasuke said dramatically, clutching at his chest. I growled and launched myself at him, fully prepared for wrestling him on the chair, or n the ground. What I wasn't prepared for was him catching me, causing me to end up in a very awkward (not to mention suggestive) position. My legs were slung over his hips, his hands were grasping my waist, and, the most important detail in my opinion, our lips were approximately four inches apart.
There were a few seconds where I had stopped beating, but I could feel my heartbeat speeding up, and I somehow knew that Sasuke's had too, before we both jerked back. However, Sasuke had jerked back at too great a force, and the barstool began slowly, ever so slowly, falling backward. Sasuke's eyes were open just as wide as they possibly could be, his pupils shrinking in surprise. When we hit the ground, I went pitching forward, turning a somersault over my best friend, and ending up with the top of my head barely brushing Sasuke's hair.
Another few seconds of silence passed before Itachi and his friends began laughing hysterically at us. I heard a thump, and guessed that the older Uchiha had fallen down he was laughing so hard. A grinning face appeared before mine, which I vaguely recognized as Tobi.
"Need help getting up?" he asked, holding out the hand that wasn't glued to Deidara (he had pulled a giggling blond man all the way from the kitchen to where we were). I nodded and took the hand. Tobi pulled me up and waited a second before moving over to where Sasuke lay in shock.
"Thanks," I murmured, completely disorientated, through from what I don't know.
"Nice way of proving you two aren't in a sexual relationship!" Kisame called from the kitchen.
Oh yeah. That.
I tried to focus my eyes enough to read the digital clock, but somehow couldn't. "Hey, what time is it?" I asked.
Itachi had gathered himself together enough to stand and look at the clock. "One forty seven, why?"
"Hey, Naruto, don't you need to go to work?" Sasuke asked, having been pulled up by Tobi moments before.
"Oh shit!" I shouted, just now remembering that I indeed had work. I nearly ran into the door in my haste to get back to the car. "Bye Sasuke! Remember, we have to go to Ino's in the morning to help set up for her party!"
"I know, just get your ass to Al's before you're fired!" he shouted at me, even though I was already more than halfway through the door. I sprinted down the driveway, and swung myself into the passenger seat of the station wagon.
"To the Pizzeria!" I shouted, taking on a heroic pose, and pointing forward. "Tsunade just looked at me.
"What makes you think I'll drive you?" she demanded, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, please," I begged.
"It's completely in the opposite direction," she said, backing out of the driveway.
"Be a good guardian for once," I pouted.
"And you say this to the woman who just took you and your sexual interest to Busch Gardens," she said sarcastically, even though she was driving in the direction of Al's.
"Yatta!" I said. To work I go.
The author-ess is SO sorry to make this so short, BUT she wanted to post something before leaving to Kansas for ten days…ten days with no laptop. Sorry!
If you think this is rushed, well sorry, it is!
No oranges in this chapter, sorry, but the author-ess knows for a fact that once she gets back from Kansas, she will post an uber long chapter with an orange.
Whatever is in this chapter that does not belong to the author-ess, does not belong to her.
