Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews. Keep 'em comin'!
Dear. My. Love
by Vanitywantsyou
Chapter One: Dollar Bill
The shrill ringing of his alarm clock was what woke up the exhausted raven.
It was six-thirty in the morning and he was expected at work at exactly seven o'clock, but his usually bright morning attitude was seemingly missing. All he wanted to do was curl up in his warm silk blankets and go back to dreaming of evening concertos and a life that was free of pink-haired barbie dolls. He groaned.
There was a knock at his door and he rolled over, covering his head with his blankets.
"Go away," he ordered.
"Not going to happen, sir," a lighter voice replied from the opening door.
A head of silver hair appeared from the hall, charcoal eyes crinkling in amusment at Sasuke's current state. He cleared his throat and entered the rather large room, a silver tray in his hand covered in various breakfast foods. Stopping at the man's bedside, he placed a glass of orange juice on the table by the headboard.
"How was your evening with Sakura-san?" the man didn't bother to hide his teasing.
Sasuke lowered the blankets from his face and glared at the butler.
"She kept me out until four in the morning," he growled. "It's no laughing matter, Kakashi."
"Pardon my rudeness," the gentleman bowed, but his eyes still held much joy.
He straightened himself and sat the small folding table he had under his arm a foot away from the bed, settling the tray down with gloved hands. Reaching up, he adjusted the pristine medical mask he wore over the lower half of his face, coughing lightly as if he were getting over a cold. He sniffled once.
"You're still sick?" Sasuke asked as he sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair.
He shifted so that he could sit on the edge of his bed and enjoy his warm western meal of grits, toast, corn beef hash, and sunny-side up eggs. He had to admit, as much as his butler got on his nerves, he complimented his skills in the kitchen. Taking a bite of his wheat toast, he looked over at the large sit-in window across the room.
The sky outside was gray, a huge storm obviously rolling in.
"Ah yes, it's supposed to storm this afternoon," Kakashi mentioned while going over to Sasuke's walk-in closet and stepping inside, flicking on the florescent light. "Which coat would you like?"
"Hn," Sasuke swallowed. "It doesn't matter to me. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm horribly fashion-conscious."
A chuckle came from the closet.
"You have over twenty pairs of shoes, most of which are already color-coordinated for various different outfits. Ah," there was a pause, followed by shuffling sounds, "and you also have all of the wardrobes from the latest Kyoko Premium magazines-"
Sasuke cleared his throat, a scowl evident on his face.
"I would like my tan Versace, please. Now keep your mouth shut," he took a slow bite of his grits. "Also, don't toss my sexuality around like it doesn't matter. You know what will happen if my parents find out."
Kakashi came from the closet with a neatly ironed pair of dress slacks, a bright white dress shirt, and a dark red tie. Laying them over the back of his master's leather computer chair, he bowed his head before smiling behind his mask.
"I do believe, sir, that you were the one who brought your sexual preferences into the conversation."
Sasuke resisted throwing one of his pillows at the smug butler.
"Go call Miyano-san and tell her that I need the next few files on my desk before I come in," he growled.
"Yes, sir," Kakashi chuckled.
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It seemed that the weather report had been wrong, because rain was falling in sheets over the city not even five minutes after Sasuke had left for work. He turned his wind shield wipers on full blast, but even that wasn't enough to help him see where he was going. A frown slipped onto his face when he realized that he'd have to pull off to the side of the road until the downfall lightened up.
Squinting, he barely made out the exit sign coming up; it was the exit to Lumar's.
Turning carefully down the twisting ramp, he drove down the road until he reached what looked like the bar's employee parking lot. Once he turned the car off, he sat back in his seat and sighed. First Sakura depriving him of sleep, then a stupid rainstorm keeping him from going to work?
He pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket and went to his contacts list, selecting the name of someone he really, really would've preferred not to call. But he knew he had to.
"Good morning, Otouto. I'll go ahead and assume you're not calling to tell me you miss me?"
Sasuke's mood automatically went to the dumps.
"Itachi, I can't see a thing in this storm, so I'm going to be a little late."
There was an ashamed click on the other end, albeit a teasing one.
"I'll go ahead and just take an hour's worth of pay out of your paycheck. I'll see you when you get here."
The raven tossed his phone onto the seat beside him and grumbled to himself. Looking to his right, he could see the outline of Lumar's lit sign, a few shadows passing by that he assumed were pedestrians trying to get out of the storm. He looked at his wrist watch.
"I might as well get some work done," he said to himself and lifted the hood of his thick coat over his head, dreading the freezing rain outside. He grabbed his briefcase and opened his car door, stepping out into the wet wind.
Starting a quick pace to the sidewalk, he almost cursed. The light was red; again.
Shivering, he held his briefcase close to his chest and looked around at all of the scurrying people on the streets. They had newspapers over their heads, or umbrellas, or nothing at all. All of them were rushing to their cars parked on the sides of streets, drenched from head to toe.
There was a low hum to his right and he turned, lashes fluttering to keep rain away.
The same man from the night before was sitting on his brown folding chair, strumming at his guitar quietly while humming. He was sitting on the seat with his legs crossed beneath him Indian style, his acoustic guitar nestled on his lap as he played. In the pouring rain, his music sounded like shrine bells.
Sasuke looked at the red light, then back at the man.
There was a dark blue tarp that he had draped over him like a poncho, his open guitar case shoved a lot closer to his chair than before. This time, there were a few gold pieces and some bills. Sasuke wondered where the one-hundred he'd given him had gone.
The music stopped.
"You're the man from last night, aren't you?"
The Uchiha blinked, taken off guard by the English.
The tarp shifted and the same cloth-covered eyes were revealed to him. But this time, the male wore a big smile, a lopsided one he saw many excited children wear when seeing 'Santa Claus'. The music started up again, a different song than the one played the previous night, but just as uplifting. Sasuke felt chills once again.
He looked back at the light that had just changed. Tugging out his wallet, he pulled another bill out and tossed it into the case, not paying attention to how the man's lips pulled into a confused line.
"Take care," Sasuke nodded his head and hurried to make it across the street, his hood flying back from the wind.
The guitarist watched him leave, then looked down to see another one-hundred dollar bill in the mostly empty case. He smiled.
"American money, huh?"
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"Good morning, sir," the secretary greeted Sasuke as he entered the office.
"Good morning," he replied in his usual firm tone.
Taking off his wet coat, he hung it on a hook by the door and walked over to his desk where two thick folders were waiting for him. He looked over to the busy woman, expecting her to tell him that more files were on their way, but she kept silent as she sorted through documents and stamped envelopes. He couldn't help but smirk, feeling as if his day might be turning around. A day of light work was rare.
"It looks like we'll be leaving early this evening," he told his secretary upon taking a seat, his dry briefcase being popped open on his lap. He pulled out the files he'd worked on right after arriving home from the bar and stacked them neatly on the top left corner of his desk.
Miyano smiled from her own desk.
"You need it, sir, you look very exhausted. I hope you weren't here too late."
Sasuke felt like the woman was babying him; she was just like his mother.
"Actually, I went home shortly after you did and finished my work there."
"Ah."
Her phone suddenly rang and she picked it up and answered in a polite and charming tone, a smile bracing her aged face. There were a few hushed words exchanged, then she pulled the phone away from her face and looked over at her boss, seeming a bit confused.
"Sir... " she began, "Umino-san informed me that there's a man downstairs asking for you. He says that you're friends and he needs to speak with you."
Two brows shot up beneath black bangs.
"A friend?" he asked.
Honestly, he didn't busy himself with personal relationships that didn't benefit him, so he had very few friends. Her was sure that Shikamaru was too busy with Lumar's to see him about anything and he was more than positive that Gaara and Neji didn't have the time to stop by and chat. Curiosity got the best of him and he folded his arms.
"Tell him to send the man up, please."
Miyano nodded and conveyed her boss's answer to the gentleman on the other line. Once she hung up, she gave the Uchiha a slightly concerned look.
"Umino-san said the young man didn't speak Japanese."
"A foreigner?" Sasuke scoffed as he began going through the two folders sitting in front of him, licking the tip of his thumb to sort through easily. He wondered who could be visiting him? Someone from an American company he'd dealt with in the past? Or maybe someone from England? But he was sure an appointment would've been made in advance.
There was a loud knock on the tinted glass door, followed by a 'hello?'.
"Come in," Miyano called, folding her hands on her lap.
The door opened slowly, a mop of blond hair poking in. Bright blue eyes met hers and she quietly swore she'd never seen a face so pretty. She smiled kindly and held her arm out toward her boss's desk, begging him to come in.
"He's not busy at the moment, so come right in and take a seat," she told him sweetly.
"Yes, ma'am," he said in English, a strange accent twinging his voice.
Sasuke looked up from his work when he heard the familiar voice, his own dark eyes meeting brilliant blue. Even with his travels to Europe and The United States, he'd never met someone with blue eyes, so he couldn't keep himself from staring a little more than he wanted. But the eye color wasn't the only thing that kept his attention; the male was definitely more attractive than most people he'd ever seen.
He cleared his throat and closed the folder he had open.
"I was told you don't speak Japanese," Sasuke said in English, glad he didn't have too thick of an accent. The eyes that were boring into him didn't help his nerves. He was a professional when it came to his clients, but, of course, he never had to talk to anyone so handsome. Something about him made his stomach tighten.
The blond sat down on the two-seater sofa right in front of Sasuke's desk.
"Yes, I'm sorry about that," his accent wasn't too thick, but noticable. The Uchiha couldn't quite place it, but he was definitely drawn in by it. He felt almost a bit smitten. "I've been having a hard time learning the language."
Sasuke laced his fingers together under his chin, observing how his guest moved.
He seemed to be trying too hard to impress, his legs crossed awkwardly and his smile a little strained as he tried to keep his back perfectly straight. His effort was nice, but Sasuke didn't want the man to be uncomfortable. With a wave of his hand, he smirked.
"Sit however you please. You're a guest here, not one of my employees."
There was a relieved sigh, then the tanned male uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, loosening the tie around his neck. That moment was a good chance for Sasuke to get a once-over.
The guy's sun-kissed hair was shaggy and there were thin streaks of pink on one side; his skin was a natural tan and odd whisker marks were on his cheeks, pronouncing his perfect cheekbones. His frame was thin, but toned underneath the snug dress shirt and khaki slacks. But his smile... his smile was gorgeous. It was a toothy, full-blown smile that had Sasuke wishing he were still single.
"I'm sure you had a lot of work to do," the blond ran a hand through his messy hair. "But I wanted to thank you for your kindness," he smiled again and Sasuke pursed his lips together.
"Kindness?" the raven repeated.
"Here," he pulled out two slips of paper from his shirt's chest pocket, reaching out to place them on the mahogony desk. "They're two tickets to my concert at The Crayon House in Harajuku district this weekend. One for you and the other for the woman you were with last night... your wife?"
Life was playing a horrible joke on him, it seemed.
Sasuke frowned, but took the tickets and looked down at them. Saturday at eight.
"You're the guitarist on that street corner..." he stated slowly.
"My name's Uzumaki Naruto," the blond grinned. "I just wanted to say thank you for the money. It helped me out a lot, you know? I'm glad you gave me American money instead of yen because I would've had no idea how much I really had."
The raven wanted to bang his head on his desk until he bled from his ears. Here he had a very handsome man who he felt he was crushing on like a high school girl, and he'd just found out that not only was he eye candy, but he was the very musician who'd played the first song to ever make the Uchiha Sasuke get goosebumps. What a small world he lived in.
But he also thought Sakura was his wife.
"I recently went on a business trip to New York City and I still had money left over," Sasuke answered Naruto's question with a stiff expression. "But about the woman, she's not my wife."
He wanted to make sure the musician knew that.
Naruto blinked cerulean eyes.
"Oh, alright. Well... then bring whoever you want to my show, as long as you're there," he beamed, then stood up and bowed. "Thank you for hearing me out and thank you again for the money. I thought the concert tickets would be a nice payment since you liked my music."
Sasuke watched him lean forward and hold a hand out. He took it and shook it firmly.
"You didn't have to pay me back," he said. "But I will see what I can do about the tickets. I'm usually very busy on Saturdays," he honestly hoped he could go. "It was nice meeting you, Uzumaki-san."
"Hey, Uzumaki-san was my dad," Naruto laughed whole-heartedly. "Just call me Naruto."
After hearing his raw laugh, Sasuke really, really hoped he could go to the concert. Just so he could hear it again. His insides were crawling, sickened by his silly puppy love.
"Then it was nice meeting you, Naruto- ah... I didn't think to ask before, but how exactly did you find out who I was and where I worked?" Sasuke furrowed his brows.
Naruto laughed cheekily and scratched at his neck.
"I heard the woman you were with last night call you Sasuke... and on the bill you gave me today, there was the name of your company and a time written on it in pen...(1)"
Sasuke faintly remembered using the bill for writing down a conference date a while ago.
"It must have been fate," he chuckled. "But I will try to come to your show this weekend. Your music is something I would be more than happy to hear."
Naruto grinned.
"I'll see you around, Uchiha-san."
"Sasuke. Uchiha-san is my father," the raven smirked.
"Sasuke," the blond repeated then bowed again before heading toward the door.
Miyano watched him leave with a knowing smile, her hazel eyes falling on her boss the moment the door shut. She laughed softly and shook her head, going back to work.
"You like him."
Sasuke scoffed and tucked the concert tickets away in his own shirt pocket.
"I'm not paying you to gossip."
Miyano just laughed again.
1- I'm sure all of you know what I'm walking about. I've encountered lots of bills with writing on them. Peoples' names, numbers, addresses, random things.
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