He grunted and panted, sweat trickling in thick droplets down his face. He flicked the stinging liquid from his eyes with a grimy forefinger, managing to catch most of it before it seeped into his alcohol bleared vision.
The woman in front of him, bent at the waist and sprawled over his office desk moaned. The too tight, too short red dress she wore was bunched up around her waist, and whatever underwear she might've possessed had been discarded long ago. Her matted brown curls and blood-shot, heavily make-upped green eyes might've been beautiful years ago when she'd first come into this sordid profession. Now however, it matched the rest of her: dirty ragged and desperately calling out for attention.
"Shut up!" Danzo thrust harshly into the woman's boney butt. She moaned wantonly, shoving her hips back to meet his savage penetration.
"Do you want the whole building to hear you?" The man growled, his hips working furiously to punish and hurt the unfortunate writhing bundle of bones beneath him.
The hooker squirmed, her cheap plastic fingernails scrabbling against the scratched, chipped wood, but she didn't answer. Danzo didn't pay her to carry on an intelligent conversation; he paid her to bend over, no questions asked as many times as he wanted her. Once he'd finished his sweating and panting and poorly executed thrusts, after all her faking and wriggling, she collected her cool $2,000 and walked away until the next time he called her.
She hated this man, this abundant source of income she'd discovered nearly ten years ago. She despised every hair, every particle of skin and semen he left for her to clean off herself. Every awful, abusive mark he left on her. She loathed this man. But she wouldn't have to put up with him for much longer. Soon, she was going to take all of the bit and pieces of information she'd gleaned over the years to get away from this sick bastard and she'd be set for life. A life where she wouldn't have to scrape and clutch and cow-tow to lecherous men, drunk off the power they felt when they bent her over.
Danzo screeched and quivered like he'd been stuck with a tazor. After he was finished, he pulled out and turned, leaving the whore to her own maintenance.
"Your payment is on the desk." He said, not bothering to check on her. He heard papers shifting, the padding of eight-inch heels on his dirty, threadbare carpet, the door to his office opening and shutting. And he was alone.
The smell of semen and cheap perfume hung heavy in the air. He'd have to air out the room before he left for the night, which would also have to be soon. He wouldn't want his wife to get too suspicious after all.
He reached for the window blinds...
His door opened behind him. Danzo turned to bark out angrily. "You idiots, didn't I tell you that I didn't want any inter-" His voice caught. Fear became palpable, a fist clutching at his throat.
The first to enter the room, a man of average height and fiery red hair, was quite apparently the leader. They way the other two came up from behind and edged around to cover his blind-side.
Easily a dozen fixtures; all large geometric, iron piercings gleamed from the redhead's nose, lips and ears. The man wore a black coat, as did the other two, further proof that they were connected. Brilliant red clouds had been dyed into the fabric.
The redhead stepped casually forward, his arms spread wide as though he and Danzo were old friends. His face, however, remained impassibly fixed. "Commissioner," The man's voice was cold. "How are you this evening, satisfied?" When the old man made no response, he continued. "I assume because we ran into your lady friend on our way inside; lovely girl, at least...she was."
"Who are you?" Danzo took a step back, tripping over his desk chair in his hasty retreat. "What do you want?"
"My name is Pain." The redhead gestured to the man on his right.
Danzo felt another shiver creep along his spine.
The man was tall, freakishly so. And his skin was...unnaturally blue, like his whole body had been frost bitten and tinted a light cerulean permanently. The man leered evilly, revealing two rows of sharp, filed teeth.
"This is Kisame."
A head nod the left indicated a man with long blond hair and deep, insane blue eyes.
"This is Deidara."
The blond leaned next to the door a lighter in one hand, which he repeatedly flicked on and snapped shut, the mad gleam in his one uncovered eye focused one Danzo.
Pain leaned forward, his fingers splayed atop the desk surface. "And what myself and my associates would like from you, is information."
Danzo sat, a smug smile spreading across his ugly mug. He was in control now, he was sure of that. He'd struck many a deal with the worst the underworld had to offer. He'd dealt with men exactly like this 'Pain' fellow, men who thrived on intimidation and used fear to get what they want.
He met Pain's odd, swirling purple gaze. "Information, yes, knowledge is power, wouldn't you agree? What could a poor, old police commissioner possibly know that would interest you, Mr. Pain?" The cop leaned forward to ensure the proper emphasis was placed upon his next question. "And what would you willing to offer in exchange?"
The room was silent, as if the very air itself were absorbing the implication of Danzo's question.
Pain straightened, his fingertips slowly sliding off the edge as his spine drew straight. "I want a name Commissioner, just one and then you will never see myself or these fine gentlemen again."
Danzo gulped, a swallow that did little to ease his parched throat.
The ginger before him smiled, it was a hideous apparition and the cop was suddenly not so certain that he was the one in control. He felt icy fingers of fear grip at his chest.
"We want the man whom you are working for."
"I don't think that the mayor-" The rest of Danzo's sentence was drown in a gargling scream. Pain had come across the desk so fast, that Danzo didn't even register the change until his hand erupted into a blinding wall of agony. The man tried to bring it up to his face, to identify the source of the pain, but...his hand couldn't move.
Danzo tugged frantically at his unresponsive appendage before rolling bleary eyes down to his desk. His stomach threatened to revolt, bile climbed up his throat. It was pinioned to his desk by his Konoha PD ballpoint pen, the crimson speckling navy blue. The twisted irony, however was lost as the blood from his hand pooled under his fingertips and began to drip off the edge of his desk to puddle and coagulate on the threadbare carpet.
The man whimpered and Pain's cold, menacing tone purred in his ear. "Try again, Commissioner."
Konoha's chief of police shrieked as Pain's fingers wrapped around the pen still embedded in his flesh, twisting it slowly. He could feel the bones breaking and bending along with the same cruelly ponderous turn of Pain's fingers.
"What do you want from me!" Danzo's scream was pathetic and frightened, tears and snot mingled on his cheeks.
Mercifully, the ginger's hand stopped, but he continued to grasp the pen tightly as he spoke. His voice was calm, cordial; Danzo would've almost called it friendly. "Give us the name of the man you work for."
In one last stupid show of bravery, the commissioner remained silent. Pain's purple eyes seemed to swirl madly and he jerked the pen sharply, breaking the tip off inside the man's punctured hand.
Mingling with Danzo's wretched shrieking was Pain's cold voice.
"Give us the name of Boss Hebi."
.:xXXx:.
Uchiha Sasuke, are you sure?"
Naruto leaned back, his elbows against the worn bar-top. Easing his arm around, the flaxen-haired youth took up his nearby mug. He shrugged to his companion, a thin man with intelligent brown eyes and dark hair scraped back into a high, straight pony-tail; which Naruto likened to the one his foster father wore.
"Yeah, I mean, he didn't stutter when he said it or anything, so I guess it's his real name. Besides," The blond snapped the fingers of his free hand as if he'd just thought of something. "He didn't have a reason to lie to me."
They were at the Naruto Bar and grill, an establishment happily situated underneath the Naruto bridge, an old crossing from the newer, Northern part of the city to the old Southern. Of course, Naruto had been properly hazed for sharing it and the bar's name, even though both had come into existence decades before the blond; the bridge even longer than that. But that had mattered little to Kiba, Shikamaru, Sakura and Ino, 'Leaf's' close-knit waiting staff. And in the end, Naruto really didn't care about the jabs either; they were heartfelt and a sign that he was welcome in their strange little community.
Going to the Naruto bar after a difficult day had become a tradition to the group. And everyone was present with the exception of Kiba, who had gone home with Hinata, presumably to make-up for their argument from the previous day. Naruto missed the energetic brunette's today more than he typically did, today had been especially difficult for the blond. He needed the crazy guy's wild and dismissive nature.
After Sasuke left, leaving Naruto with a second and quite sizable tip, a group of twenty had burst into the restaurant and demanded immediate service. What made the intrusion so irritating was that it was the commissioner of police: Danzo and his 'elite squad of Konoha defense forces' counsil. Everyone in Konoha knew that the chief was taking bribes from the gangs and cartels that networked in the cities back alleys like a nervous system. He was a slimy, despicable, cretin the blond hated with every fiber of his soul.
He had been on watch the night Naruto's parents had been slaughtered.
It had been Danzo's job to make sure security was airtight at the hospital where Uzumaki Kushina was in labor. The man had been personally assigned to oversee Minato's protection, but he'd been..."incapacitated" was the excuse he'd used at the hearing months after they died. The bastard had pled to be "incapacitated" with a great man burned.
He'd become commissioner of Konoha's police department years after he'd been cleared of negligence, a verdict Naruto never forgave the system for. Once in power, Danzo's corruption had only spread. No solid evidence was ever brought to light, the man was too smart for that, but everyone knew. Just like Danzo knew about the child born to the two he had failed to protect. He knew Naruto, knew his hate and hated him back. Maybe it was the truth in the blonds' eyes, the honestly and righteous anger that Danzo could never stomach. Maybe it was simply because Naruto reminded him of a failure, one that would perhaps haunt him for the rest of his life. But Naruto was not betting on the latter.
Danzo had taken one look at his server and smiled that arrogant smile of his. The one that made Naruto want to throttle a confession from his putrid lips.
Immediately after they were situated, the customers began complaining. About the inadequate space, about the lack of staff attentiveness, about the food; it honestly hadn't seemed to matter what they were complaining about as long as they had something to whine about.
But Naruto wasn't waiting tables at 'Leaf' right now and for that he was very grateful. Even though everyone sitting at the bar knew that tomorrow they would all be back at the café, a whole new set of challenging customers and situations to test their patience. For now, all that mattered was the clink of glasses, the feeling of fellowship and the sweet mull of beer to expunge the days' events.
"That wasn't what I was asking." Shikamaru, the 'Leaf's' resident bartender/cocktail mixer sighed. "I just wanted to make sure that you heard the correct name was all."
"Yeah, he said his name was Uchiha Sasuke and he shook my hand." The blond took a swallow from his mug. "Why? What's the big deal about the name Uchiha anyways? I mean, I know that Sasuke thinks that he's all that, the way he acts all stuck-up and stuff."
"Uchiha!" The squeal came from Naruto's right. The blond tossed a glance over to where his two female companions were sitting. It was Ino who had yelled. She and Sakura were leaning eagerly forward to catch his response.
"As in Uchiha Sasuke, the breathtakingly beautiful, charming, stylish, handsome, and deliciously single owner of one of the most popular night clubs In Konoha?" The blond clarified.
"Um," Naruto cleared his throat uncomfortably. He wasn't sure if he would've used those descriptors…aloud. "Yes?"
"I can't believe you didn't recognize Sasuke-kun." The woman with hair dyed light pink rolled her vivid green eyes dramatically. "Everyone knows who he is."
His beer forgotten, Naruto eyed Sakura. "How do you know him?"
Sakura opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Shikamaru chimed in. "Like Ino said, the man is the sole owner of a very popular night club over on the other side of the river."
"A nightclub."
"You must've heard of it." Sakura this time. "Even if you've only been back in Konoha for a few weeks, you must've at least heard of 'Sound'."
'Sound' well of course Naruto had heard of the club. He'd never gone, but he'd certainly heard the name before. It was a rich person's club from what he'd heard. An elitist bar that catered towards Konoha's upper crust; those with far too much time and cash on their hands who couldn't think of constructive ways to put it to use besides feeding their baser appetites.
The blond had really never felt any real desire to go there. His life was too full with work and fighting crime and…well; he'd never felt any desire to go there.
Now though…now Naruto was curious.
"Hey, guys, thanks for the drink." Naruto put the mostly empty mug on the bar and grabbed for his jacket. "I'm going to head home. I've got to open tomorrow." The excuse was lame and he knew it, but if any of the other three had noticed, they chose not to comment.
"See you guys later."
Only Shikamaru waved, a lazy flick of two fingers. Sakura and Ino were still busy naming all of Uchiha Sasuke's perfect attributes. Naruto had a feeling that the pair would still be going strong by the time the bar closed.
The blond shrugged into his jacket, a black and orange Northface reject which Iruka had found for him on ultra-clearance a year or so ago. The soft-shell coat had two things going for it in Naruto's opinion. One, it was incredibly warm and two: one of the two colors was his favorite. Though he would let anyone guess which color it was. As he stepped from the bar's toasty interior into the night's growing chill, he was once again very thankful for the former.
It was October in Konoha and the nights were getting progressively colder, a teaser of the snow everyone knew was only a month and a half away.
Naruto glanced at his watch. The display read a cool 11:00 pm, there was more than enough time to check out the club Sasuke owned, ride the last bus home and still gut the five hours of sleep he would need to minimally function at work the following morning.
The plan set firmly in his mind, the blond set out on foot over the Naruto Bridge, toward Sasuke.
.:xXXx:.
It took less time than he thought it would to reach 'Sound'. And it had been very easy to find; well all the blond really had to do was follow the steady stream of luxury cars to it. Nobody in South Konoha drove those foreign cars, not unless they could replace it quickly.
Naruto studied the building from his position across the somewhat busy intersection. It looked okay from where he was standing. That was to say, it looked more upbeat, stylish and expensive than any or all of the clubs Naruto had ever frequented put together. It was shiny, tall, black and new. The blond wondered for a moment if it was tinted glass or if the building was actually made out of stone. Because if it was, his cost estimate to construct the establishment would raise to an altogether disgusting price-range.
He crossed the street slowly, keeping clear of the already inebriated guests driving away from the club. He paused in front of the club's massive entrance, apprehension and anxiety mixing their own delightful cocktail of butterflies in his stomach. What was he doing here, at this high-class club? He didn't belong. What was so important about seeing Sasuke's club in the first place? Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone and just wait for the guy to come back to the café if he wanted to talk? This was a bad idea, he should never have come.
The blond took a step back, easing down the steps as if he was afraid someone would see him and drag him inside. But he knew that if he turned back now, he would always wonder…and Uzumaki Naruto was not a man of many intentional regrets.
He hesitated a moment longer, allowing the sheer awesomeness of the structure to wash over his nerves before he plunged inside.
Naruto was drowning in atmosphere. Having heightened senses wasn't normally a problem for the blond. There was the occasional awkward day when he could smell Sakura and every female in the café ovulating, or that one time when he'd gone into a public restroom and heard the guy in the stall next to him jacking off. But, to the man's credit, he'd been mostly silent through the whole ordeal, it had been his erratic breathing which tipped Naruto off and to the blonds' credit, as soon as he had figured it out, he'd gotten out of there as fast as he could.
But in this place, his senses were overloading, sights and smells and sounds came from all directions, all at once and Naruto wondered if this was what it felt like to be high.
Lights of every shade and vivid hue swirled about from random locations around the ceiling and walls, painting patterns on the thrashing and twisting body of clubbers who occupied a depressed segment of the club's floor. This was obviously the dance portion of the level. The very air was alive with activity, literally. Dancers, both male and female twisted around poles in various locations around the room, trapped in cages hoisted from the ceiling far above, or prancing along catwalks which criss-cross all the way to the second floor. These dancers, those whom Naruto could see, rolled their limber bodies to the music, undulating hips to the pulsing bass beat that thrummed through 'Sound' like a heartbeat. Their costumes, if one could call what they wore 'clothing' stretched sensuously over smooth, sweat-slicked skin, their colors muted and indiscernible in the club's constantly changing light.
The bar was aptly named Naruto decided. For the noise inside was nearly deafening. Whatever latest pop trash song was pouring through the speakers; the place was packed with people, all laughing, talking…burping, or whatever, all at once. The combination was something Naruto had never experienced in his life before. Every bar he'd ever gone to had been warm, homely. They were places where nobody posted the nightly specials because the drinks were all dirt cheap anyway. They were places where the old folks gathered to share stories and a good drink. They were places where the bartender had laugh-lines and knew everyone by name.
This place was very different. The atmosphere in 'Sound' was hot, erratic and wild. The air pulsated with a heavy undertone that was all about sex.
Naruto threaded his way deeper into the densely packed club, trying not to spill anyone's drinks while at the same time keeping an eye out for a distinctive raven hair-do.
He didn't see Sasuke, although the flashing strobe lights weren't doing much to help him on that end. Besides, Naruto chided himself, the man just owned the club, he didn't come here to take jell-o shots every night. In fact, Naruto wouldn't have been surprised at all if the raven weren't even on this side of the Naruto Bridge at this very moment. Or if 'Sound' didn't even carry jell-o shots.
The thought made him strangely melancholy and Naruto, for the second time that hour, wondered what it was he was doing here. It wasn't like he'd come to see Sasuke. He'd just been curious was all, and now that he'd seen the place, well, he might as well go home and get a good night's slee-
He heard it. He swore he heard the name, from somewhere above him and distantly, but he'd heard it. "Sasuke," The blond turned, his wide blue eyes searching the deeper shadows of the upper level. He could make out booths, and some people moving around, but that was little help. Sighing, Naruto continued to walk. He'd probably just imagined it, his crazy mind conjuring names out of thin air. Wishful thinking, that's what it was. But why would he want to wish for Sasuke?
The blond was at the bar then. It was a huge slab of granite that ran the entire length of the building's back wall. The light was more stable here, white and less prone to sudden shifts; it was also a little quieter here, not much, but enough to stop the ringing in Naruto's ears.
He found a single empty seat somewhere near the middle and lowered himself onto the black leather upholstery.
Immediately, a bartender, dressed in a spotless black tuxedo appeared before the blond, dubiously inquiring as to his choice of beverage.
Naruto baulked at the listed prices. The menu was written in some cryptic short-hand which he had never seen before and half the drinks he could make out, the man was fairly certain had been made up. Who the heck had ever heard of a 'Missy-May'? Tentatively, he asked the well dressed gentleman before him if he carried anything on tap. Scornfully, the man strode away, reappearing moments later to set a tall, thin glass on the smooth granite in front of Naruto.
Thanking the gentleman, Naruto slid a twenty dollar bill across and watched it disappear mournfully. It was no wonder he'd never come to this place before; even the posh beer on tap was grossly overpriced.
Although, the blond smiled into his beverage, Sasuke had left another of his generous tips when he'd left. Naruto no longer wondered if the man could afford being so openhanded with his money, heck, the blond had donated towards his next tip. He was pretty sure that having one or two of these overpriced beers was not going to break his bank. In fact, he could have those two, take care of next month's rent/utilities and still have a little extra to put away besides.
The alcohol burned pleasantly down his throat as Naruto swallowed the gently foaming amber liquid. As he took another small sip (he planned on savoring the expensive drink) his eyes flicked up and the blond nearly choked.
He hadn't even noticed when he'd approached, so impressed had he been with the bar's sheer size and perchance a touch distracted by Sasuke's absence, that the back wall was not in fact a wall, but a large panel of glass. Behind the glass were largish cubicles or rooms sectioned off from one another. Each was lit separately, some dark and highlighted in shades of purple and blue, others light and bright and sterile. Some were sparsely furnished with couches and chairs, others carried nothing at all, but what drew ones attention to the rooms was not these things. It was the occupants.
Dancers had been stationed inside these small rooms as well; some alone, their bodies swaying and shifting to their own languid rhythm of self gratification, whilst others had been placed in pairs, playing at their own individualized game of sexuality.
What had taken Naruto by surprise was not the dancers themselves, or even that these room had been placed here. He'd smelled the undercurrent of arousal in this club after all.
The cubical across from where he sat was pure white, brightly lit and held within its geometric confines, a small white suede couch…and two men. He hadn't anticipated that.
They were both dressed to match the décor; pants which rode dangerously low and hugged chiseled butt and thighs. One wore a white button up shirt which was fully undone and hung in soft folds around his pale chest. This one's skin nearly blended with the primered walls surrounding him; if not for his black hair which he wore short, Naruto might've lost him completely.
As it was, he and his partner, a man with long, silky back hair, were performing…the blond didn't even know. Stylized sex was perhaps the closest he could come to describing their actions. They slithered along the room, across the walls and the couch, touching, caressing.
Hands slid across pale skin as they sprawled on the textured leather. The shirtless man lay under the other, his beautiful mane splayed to contrast sensuously against the colorless suede. The short-haired man had climbed up to straddle the man's hips, sliding his small hands along his partner's chest as his rolled his torso and hips languorously.
The man arched beneath him, slowly sliding pale fingers through his own silky tresses in a gesture of obvious enjoyment.
Naruto swallowed hard. This was wrong, it was so very wrong on so many levels. He should not be watching two guys going at it, even if it was fake. It didn't matter how hard up for sex he was right now. Something like ten years, but that didn't matter. But at the same time, he didn't want to look away.
Naruto forced his eyes back to his drink, toying with the idea of just leaving. He'd seen what he'd come to see and now there was really no reason for him to stay, unless it was the off chance that he would bump into his new friend while he was here. Which was not the reason he was here.
A thump came from inside the cubical. Naruto's eyes flicked reflexively up towards the noise.
They had changed positions. The short-haired man was being bent over and smashed up against the glass. Long midnight tresses hung around him like a curtain as their owner ground and thrust against the proffered backside. Long, slender fingers disappeared beneath the curtain of the man's shirt, stroking the supple skin and pinching pert nipples.
The one against the glass raised his head. His mouth was open and panting, his hot breath fogging the glass as the faintest trace of pink dusted the man's pale cheekbones. For an instant, their eyes locked; dark, lust filled eyes, half lidded in passion met Naruto's wide, innocent blues.
The man licked his lips…
Naruto bolted, leaving his drink unfinished in the bar top.
Muttering apologies, the blond threaded once more through the crowd, this time back the way he had come and unconcerned with anything but leaving this place.
The memory of what he had just witness was burned into his brain. Images of pale flesh sliding luxuriously against pale flesh, the look of pure bliss etched on the man's face, spurred him on as he pushed his way faster through the crowd.
"Hey!"
"Sorry!" Naruto turned his head for an instant, just to make eye contact with the woman he'd clipped and crashed headlong into a warm, unyielding body. He flailed, someone nearby cursed as their drink hit the floor and as the blond struggled to regain his footing, his shoes hit the wet patch of tile. The Uzumaki slipped, reflexively clutching at the only solid object near to him: the person he'd just crashed into. He was trying desperately to keep his footing on the slick flooring.
His tennis shoes found purchase at last. Naruto reached up to grab a shoulder, tan fingers knotting in the man's silk shirt. At this point he was very sure that it was a guy. Or if it was a girl, she had absolutely no chest whatsoever. The blond hoisted himself upright, prepared to give a quick and heart-felt apology to his 'savior'. But his face lifted and the disarming waiter smile he'd pasted on his face withered. He blinked once in disbelief, rubbed his eyes and peered at the man standing before him. But the image stayed true.
The man whom he had scrambled all over like a cheap set of monkey-bars was none other than Uchiha Sasuke.
Authors note: Not a ton is coming to mind right now. I pretty much spilled my guts up at the top.
Reveiws are always very appreciated.
Um...Should I SasuNaru in the next chapter? Because I have an idea, but I would like a yea or nay.
Until next time...