Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Love At First Sight? Well, Anything's Possible With These Two... ❯ Chapter 1

I don't own anything but my ideas. This is my first time doing a first person POV story, let me know how I do!

 

WARNINGS: much swearing and obvious lime suggestions, you have been warned!

 

How It All Started

 

I was going to kill Itachi. A gay bar? For Christ's sake, he might as well have already delivered me to the morgue, because if father finds out… well, lets just say that loosing my life would be preferential, and then my manhood next, because that doesn't scare me half as bad as what else he'll do.

 

If I'd known the bastard that's supposed to be my brother was going to use my sexuality as black mail, I would have kept that information strictly confidential. `For my own good' he says. `I don't want to see you hurt' he says. Then why the hell is he blackmailing me to tell father if I don't go with him?!?!

 

Itachi, my older brother, now a legal adult, has severed all ties with my parents as if they were dead, but that's not surprising. He walked in the door one day, all high and mighty and shit, and spits out that he's gay like he's announcing that he wants sushi for dinner that night, like it's something you hear every day in the Uchiha complex. And then he turns and leaves, smiling at my father spewing colorful phrases like a fountain and my mother's face, which is impressive in my opinion, as she was doing a fine impression of a fish out of water at the news.

 

But that was a good three years ago; now—for reasons I still don't quite understand—he's dragging me along like a show-and-tell item to a gay bar. He asked me to move in with him a year ago, telling me some crap like he didn't want father worrying that I was gay like him and engaging me to get married to a girl that was straight as a flag pole—and dumb as one too—the second I was of age, and like an idiot, I happened to mention that I was gay, just like him.

 

Bad move. Really, really bad move. My life was suddenly like a plane going into a spiraling nosedive from there on out.

 

And so I follow along behind him down black streets of the city like a sniveling three year old, glancing around me to make sure that no rapers are going to jump me when Itachi's back is turned. You'd have to be a psychopath to try anything with Itachi around. Sure, he's head of a very holier-than-thou company, but he also isn't a stranger to killing by a long shot and his gang for the company is merciless. Needless to say, this is very good for business competition… as there is none anymore, but it doesn't do much for the people that see him regularly.

 

Itachi walks right down the alleyway that's supposed to be forbidden to everyone, acting like he owns the whole damn place, and leads me through the `secret' door with the flashing neon sign over it, smiling like an idiot the whole time. I swear, he has no fear of our father. He also isn't forced to live with the man, unlike some people around here I can name, specifically, me. Bastard.

 

It was dark inside, as was to be expected of a bar, but I was not expecting everything else that I saw.

 

The ear-blowing music, the dancing, the grinding, the smell of hard alcohol in the air, the shirtless guys left and right, guys eating each others' faces, it was nothing but migraine-inducing.

 

I sigh inwardly. It's going to be a long night.

 

Itachi smiles after testing the atmosphere with his eyes, like a snake tastes the air with its tongue, and waves for me to follow him, walking into the crowd of half-naked, almost-fucking-right-on-the-spot guys, and—blackmail still hanging over my head—I tell my self-preservation to take a hike and follow him into the people, sucking in my gut as much as I can to not have to touch any of them. Yes, I was gay too, but I didn't want these horny, 50-year-olds rubbing their sweaty backs up against me. That was beyond migraine-inducing, that was vomit-inducing.

 

After loosing my so-called brother in the crowd a good six times, I finally spot him sitting at a table in a surprisingly calm part of the bar, where people are actually acting like civilized beings. I force my way through the rest of the apes impersonating humans and flop into the booth across from Itachi, glaring at him. My glare grows darker by the second as he doesn't even have the courtesy to acknowledge that I'm glaring at him.

 

“I guess you want to know why I brought you.” Itachi leans toward me, and I press myself further back into the seat behind me, trying to get as far away as possible.

 

“You know Deidara, right?” Itachi leans back.

 

Dear gods, please no. If Itachi belongs in an insane asylum, than this man should just be shot on the spot to not take any chances in safety. He's another one in Itachi's band of morons.

 

“Well, I brought you here to meet someone.” Itachi smiles and looks around, signaling a waiter over the second he spots one. “It's Dei's younger cousin, I think you might like him.”

 

Like hell. Just because Itachi is head over fucking heels for his `friend' Deidara does not mean that I will be able to look at his cousin with anything less than suspicion that he'll have Deidara's obsession for everything that detonated.

 

“Could you tell Deidara Uzumaki that I'm here?” Itachi asks the waiter sweetly, making the poor man blush as he skitters away like a mouse. Idiot, like he has any chance of being with Itachi… but if the waiter already knows who my brother is, then that means that this is by no means the first time Itachi's been here. Oh fabulous. Not.

 

“He's energetic and looks a lot like Dei, which will be good as I've noticed you looking at Dei before.”

 

I flush the colors of the rainbow, screw just red and pink, and slam my hands down on the table as I shoot out of my seat.

 

“Why the hell would I want to look at that psychotic, mentally demented, blonde idiot?!” I half splutter, half scream, though it doesn't do much good as the music basically drowns my voice out.

 

“Sit down, Sasuke.” Itachi says calmly, looking not at me, but at the booth where I should be sitting, in his opinion at least. After a while, it's clear that he isn't going to give in until the apocalypse, so I growl, gritting my teeth as I lower myself back down.

 

“Now,” he begins calmly, like he's talking to a kindergartener, “the boy has a few things to watch, just to warm you. He lost his parents very young, and has been living with a guardian and Dei on and off for his life, 18 years, you're age. Well, he's a month or two younger, but it's basically the same time.”

 

Inwardly, I feel the smugness coming on. At least he's younger than me. I hate it when older men hit on me, I don't know, it's something about guys who are younger that turns me on. I've always been in a dominant position in life thanks to my family's position, and being in the submissive is really a turn-off.

 

“But he doesn't do to well with attitudes.” Itachi says firmly, obviously `hinting' at something. I stay silent, ignoring the jab like he did to my glare before.

 

“Itachi!” Deidara walks happily over to our table, his hands in the air like he's trying to get someone a mile away to notice him, not someone sitting six feet away.

 

Itachi smiles his blinding smile that makes me want to hurl and lets Deidara plunk right down into his lap and wrap his arms around my brother's pale neck. My ass they're just friends.

 

“And how is the young mini-Dei doing tonight?” Itachi asks nicely after kissing Deidara lightly on the tip of his nose.

 

Deidara groans. “The young hellion, you mean, un.” Deidara forces a smile. “He's being his normal self, un.”

 

I feel my grimace sink more permanently into my face. If this kid annoys Deidara, he has to have been a hell of a character. Suddenly, I felt like excusing myself and camping out in the bathroom until we can finally leave.

 

“He had his friend Gaara over today, un, the youngest of the Sabaku kids, you know, un, he works here? That little shit is fucking deranged, un.” Deidara continues. I groan mentally, looking at the clock over the bar. It was only 10, this night was never going to end.

 

“So where's this little `hellion' now?” Itachi asks playfully, taking a sip of the drink he must have ordered before I sat down.

 

Deidara plucks it from his fingers and sips it, looking around the bar before handing the glass back to Itachi. I was hoping Deidara was dead, as Itachi has a tendency to flip his blessed lid when anyone does something like that, but Itachi just keeps drinking the alcohol. Damn.

 

“He's somewhere around here, un…” Deidara puts his hands on his hips, standing up to scan the bar, reaching into his pocket slowly and pulling out his clay. This is another nervous tick the prick has. Whenever he isn't doing anything with his hands, he molds random stuff out of clay that he always keeps with him.

 

“Ah, there he is, un. Naruto!” Deidara waves to a group of waiters standing by the bar. I recognize the boy with brown hair and red tattoos in the shape of fangs on his cheeks as Kiba Inuzuka, Hinata Hyuuga's boyfriend. Hinata is Neji Hyuuga's cousin, and Neji is my cousin, so we see each other fairly regularly. The others are new to me, a boy with brick-red hair and a serious insomnia disorder, judging from the rings around his eyes, and a boy with one earring and a very high ponytail. The last one, the boy with the same hair as Deidara, looks over in confusion before setting his tray on the counter before heading over in our direction.

 

His hair is very blonde, a little lighter than Deidara's, but it thankfully isn't as long. His bangs are just long enough that it hangs in his sky-blue eyes, giving him one hell of a cute face to boot, and the tight clothes he's wearing flatter his incredibly sexy body unbelievably. The one strange thing, though I thought it made him even sexier, were the symmetrical whisker-like scars on his cheeks, three on each. Shit, I had to stop thinking like that, but damn, he's fucking cute!

 

“Yeah?” he asks, his arms crossed as he stares at Deidara, awaiting whatever Deidara's going to say with obvious impatience. I try not to, but I can't help but notice the way his hips rock when he walks, or the way they're tilted right now because he's resting most of his weight on one leg.

 

“Naruto, this is Sasuke, un,” Deidara gestures to me, “Sasuke, un, this is my midget cousin, Naruto.”

 

“Hey!” Naruto barks, his stance suddenly that much less lax. I swallow, trying to relax myself as I feel my face heating up and the familiar tingling waltzing up and down my spine.

 

“Naruto, un, Sasuke is Itachi's younger brother, he's your age, un.” Deidara sits back down next to Itachi.

 

Naruto's eyes flick to me, seeming to scrutinize me before he turns back to Deidara.

 

“Whoopty fucking doo.” He says flatly. “What did you call me over for?”

 

I feel the twitch develop in my eye, and Itachi sighs and Deidara lets his head drop into his hands before looking back up at Naruto.

 

“Itachi and I though you two might want to get to know each other, un.” Deidara tries again nicely.

 

“Doubt it, Itachi already freaks the hell out of me, I don't need to know another Uchiha, thanks though.” Naruto says.

 

My twitch grows worse. So the shithead always spoke his mind, huh? Itachi's brain is always way off, but if he thought that this half-wit and I would fit together, he was even worse than I thought.

 

“Are we going at anytime soon, or should I drown myself in alcohol to make this less painful, Itachi?” I ask vapidly, shifting on the seat. Naruto looks over at me again, assessing me. I guess he's surprised that my personality is so different from Itachi's, but he also looks rather ticked at my stab to his ego.

 

“Have whatever you want, but I'm not holding your hair back while you empty your guts into a bucket after drinking too much.” Itachi shrugs.

 

I glare harder, wishing it will burn through his head, and shift again in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position that will be suitable for the next… oh, say… 3 or 4 hours. My eyes drift back to Naruto as everyone keeps talking (Deidara and Naruto arguing, and Itachi occasionally saying something to Deidara) and I find myself mesmerized by everything about him. His legs, his tight, low-riding pants fitting snuggly on his hips, the inch of stomach showing due to his teaser-waiter uniform that every waiter who works here is required to wear, his broad shoulders, his golden hair—Jesus, I can feel the molten lava pooling in my groin—

 

“What the hell are you staring at, Teme?”

 

My eyes snap to Naruto's face, meeting his accusing glare with a darker murderous glare that does absolutely nothing to faze him. Am I missing the death part of the glare tonight? Is no one affected?

 

“Naruto, un.” Deidara says warningly. Itachi send me his first real fixed stare of the night, and I can feel his eyes drilling into my skull, but I refuse to surrender to Naruto in this small-scale staring war. I already gave in to Itachi, there was no way in hell I was going to loose to this dumbass.

 

“Naruto! We got a new wave, get your assets over here and help us out!”

 

Naruto screws up his face in frustration before caving in and looking away to the voice. I can't help but smirk as I follow his gaze, finding Kiba waving Naruto over, making huge, possibly dangerous motions with his arms, pointing to a huge group of men that just walked in.

 

“Hurry up!” he barks, grabbing a tray as he jogs off to the most recently filled table.

 

“Alright, Kiba, get your panties out of a knot!” Naruto shoots me one more dark look before jogging after Kiba; good god, his ass—

 

I can feel the heat rushing to my face, and I grab Itachi's drink and take a gulp out of the revolting liquid to kill the oncoming fire before the color emerges through my skin. The drink burns my throat like acid, and my eyes go blurry for a second at the intensity of the alcohol concentration, but I don't allow myself to even flinch. Being an Uchiha prohibits it. Fucking hell, I know Itachi can hold his alcohol, but I finally identify the nauseating liquid by its smell as Everclear. Straight. Fucking. Everclear. Thank god I only took a sip, or I'd be passed out right now, having never drunken any alcohol before tonight.

 

“How was that, small stuff, un?” Deidara asks me around his chuckling. Somewhere along the way, he deposited himself back into Itachi's lap and is now stuck to him like rubber glue. I huff and look sharply away to avoid my brother's gaze, and somehow, my eyes gravitate over to the counter again, and ghost over Naruto's body.

 

He's fucking hot, any bar—gay or straight—would hire him without a second thought, but if he's in a gay bar…

 

“Dei, Naruto is gay, right?” Itachi asks, winking at me. I scowl; the asshole has the ability to `read my mind', as he calls it. Sure, he can think that if he wants, I just let my ice mask down there for a second; he read my face, that's all.

 

“If straight is 180 degrees, un,” Deidara says casually, nuzzling Itachi's cheek, “then Naruto is exactly 90 degrees. As gay as they come, un, just like me.” he finishes with a sexy lace in his voice, and Itachi smiles and licks Deidara's bottom lip. I fight my gag reflex with everything I have and look quickly back to Naruto.

 

He's leaning against the counter, writing someone's order down on a slip. He calls over the bartender, handing the man the slip and smiling widely at him as they share something. My spine clenches and my fist tightens painfully around the glass in my hand.

 

“Sasuke.” Itachi says warningly, prying the glass from my fingers, one by one. I take a deep breath through my nose and force my grip to relax.

 

“Naruto, you and Gaara can go for a break now.” Two boys walk into the bar from the back door, one was fat with literal swirls on his face, and the other contrastingly skinny, with his uniform collar pulled way up to hide his mouth, not to mention the dark glasses that blocked all views of his eyes.

 

“'Kay, thanks.” Naruto nods without looking over to them, his fingertip tracing a list of orders before he hands it off to them, searching the crowd for whoever Gaara is.

 

“Gaara, we're on break!” Naruto yells over the music. The red headed insomniac from earlier is dancing with the crowd, grinding and rubbing against some of the customers who had probably asked him to dance. He nods inconspicuously to Naruto before excusing himself politely from the men grinding against him like fucking dogs in heat. Disgusting.

 

Gaara walks over to Naruto and in one swift moment, has Naruto by the hair and is dragging him out the back door, ignoring Naruto's kicking and protests.

 

I can feel Itachi watching me, expecting me to do something, like follow them and save Naruto from distress like a motherfucking damsel. Only when I'm dead, brother.

 

He sighs finally, picking up on the fact that I'm quite comfortable sitting where I am, thank you, and stands up, sliding Deidara off of him and onto the booth.

 

“I suppose we better get going.” He says reluctantly, his hand lingering in Deidara's a little longer than my stomach would have liked.

 

“Come back, un?” Deidara asks seductively, standing up and sliding his arms around Itachi's waist. Itachi smiles his incubus smile and strokes Deidara's cheek.

 

“Soon.” He promises in a whisper. “With Sasuke. Warm Naruto up a little, will you?”

 

“Itachi!” I shout, wrenching myself out of the seat and storming up to him, ignoring the fact that he still towers over me even thought I stopped growing long ago. “Get it through your thick skull! We don't fucking fit! He's a blonde moron, not to mention how obnoxious---”

 

“I'm sure father would love to know you were here.” Itachi cuts me off. “He always did want you to spend more time with me, to become more like me.” his watches me out of the corner of his eye, the corner of his lip pulling up into his witch doctor smirk, the one he only uses when threatening someone.

 

My mouth keeps moving, but my voice box has been severed from my tongue to keep me from saying anything stupid, a sort of self-preservation reflex, if you must. He has me there, unless I want to face Fugaku Uchiha's rage. Yeah, I don't fucking think so. I like living, despite what you might think.

 

“Fuck off and die.” I snarl, whirling and parting the crowds viciously to get the hell out of this place. My lip pulls back more as I can feel the smug triumph radiating off of Itachi, as he knows perfectly well that those four words are my way of giving in, which I did far to much of tonight.

 

************Naruto's POV************

 

“I hate this job.” Gaara snarls. “Dancing with horny 60-year-old men is in no way my idea of a good time.”

“Are you gay?” I ask, looking over at him. This isn't a dumb question, I really don't know.

 

“It wouldn't make me want to dance with ancient men anymore than I do now.”

 

Smartass. I roll my eyes impatiently. “No, really.”

 

Gaara pauses, staring at the brick wall opposite us. “I don't know.” He says finally. “Never really had a chance to try anything like that.”

 

I make a mental note to work on that and find out if it kills me.

 

I pull the box of cigarettes out of my pocket and bring it up to my mouth, securing the end of one in my lips and taking it slowly from the box.

 

I'd never liked smoking, hell, I didn't even want to start! But Kiba dared me, the bastard that he is, and I haven't been able to quit since. It puts a hell of a dent in my income, but I'm not exactly living on my own yet, so it's not a problem.

 

I slide my lighter from my pocket and flip it open, lighting the end of the straight nicotine wrapped in paper and take a drag. I blowing out slowly and watching how the smoke swirls up into the night air.

 

The smoke always burns my eyes and my throat, and I can't stand the smell, but like I said, it's straight nicotine, it's harder to stop than it looks.

 

“I thought you were trying to quit.” Gaara accuses, staring at me harshly.

 

“I am.” I agree lightly, bringing the paper back up to my lips, but before I can inhale, Gaara snatches it right out of my fingers and drops it into a puddle of cat piss or whatever it is by his feet, grinding it into the pavement with his toe until it's a small blob of white mush, completely un-smoke-able.

 

“Hey!” I yell in protest, though I'm way to late to do anything about it.

 

“Then quit.” Gaara says dangerously. I immediately back down, having known Gaara for this long has taught me when to just give up to save my skin.

 

I try to stay quiet, I really do, but my mouth has a mind of it's own. And I'm convinced it's the mind of a suicidal demon.

 

“It helps me to relax!” I whine, leaning back against the outside wall of the bar. “I can't handle Iruka nagging and Dei on my tail all day long! I need something to help me cool down, and this job doesn't exactly let me do that with Deidara around, and then I have to go back home to Iruka! Yeah, sure, it's great he took me in and all…” I pause, choosing my words, “but he acts like he owns me and controls what I do, especially after Kyuu just up and disappeared like smoke. It's a pain in the ass!”

 

“Then do something about it.” Gaara growls. Yeesh, what a friend, huh? He's so encouraging.

 

“Hey, let's get an apartment together!”

 

“…What?” Gaara looks at me like I'm off my rocker. Obviously, he doesn't see the brilliance in my plan.

 

“Come on!” I plead excitedly. “You can't afford one on your own, and I sure as hell can't, it'd be perfect! See, we split the cost, you get away from your family, I get away from my damn-ass annoying guardians, what do you think?!” By now, I'm actually jumping up and down in excitement.

 

Gaara looks to the wall opposite us and take a huge breath before muttering, “Sure,” under his breath.

 

I scream in happiness, dancing around the alley like a high idiot who didn't even get into junior high until Gaara tells me to “Quit acting like a fucking retard and sit the hell down before he comes over and shoves his shoe down my throat”. Such a kind, caring friend (that's sarcasm, people), but he's my best friend and has been since preschool, so I love him, twisted, violence, self-mutilation and all.

 

Gaara has a hell of a family history, starting when his mother died giving birth to him. His father blamed him, and it rubbed off onto his older brother and sister, Kankuro and Temari. Then, when Gaara was six, his psychopath uncle (mother's brother) broke out of Bellevue or whatever asylum he was in and tried to hunt Gaara down for `killing' his sister. Gaara knocked a vase off his staircase by accident when he was running from the psycho and smash, caved his uncle's head in, and ten years later, Gaara's dad gets killed in a car accident. Now, apparently, his siblings are trying to breach the gap, and I personally don't blame Gaara for telling them to go fuck themselves for ignoring him all those years. I probably would have too.

 

And, yeah, the self-mutilation is true. I walked home with him after school one day so we could work on homework together (AKA: I walked home with him to copy off his homework) and I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, there was a river of blood on the floor. Turns out he carved the kanji for `love' into his forehead with his father's letter opener. Took me ten minutes to stop the bleeding, because cuts above the eye bleed a hell of a lot more than anywhere else in the body—unless you're counting the main arteries—and even then, Gaara was out for a week afterwards because he was so weak from low blood pressure.

 

Then, after that, I almost never saw him anymore because of his dumbass therapist. And then I put my foot down (literally), somehow managed to fracture my ankle in doing so, and effectively stopped Gaara from going to the freaky sadist his family called a therapist.

 

He and I have been in some wild times together, though he's usually the more violent one in the mix. I got bullied all the time in school, until Gaara started sticking up for me. Gaara's own special way of sticking up for someone? Well, the routine was: I got bullied, Gaara found out from my bruises and my lame cover-up stories for why I had gotten them, practically hunted down the kids who did it, put them all in the hospital, got suspended, and then the cycle started all over again until people finally got that they were going to loose an arm if they picked on me. But we've also been arrested once, ran away from the cops at the `scene of the crime' a few times to avoid getting arrested because we were always blamed even if it wasn't our fault, gotten drunk at fifteen, and now we're working at a bar where we're serving alcohol, underage and everything.

 

“It's a great idea, right?!” I blubber excitedly, because this might just have been the best day of my entire fucking life. “I mean, you're like my only family—”

 

“Huzzah for me.” Gaara grumbles.

 

“—and if you're away from your family, then we can just live on our own—”

 

“No shit.” He sighs, clearly aggravated by my volume.

 

“…this is going to rock!” I shout, throwing my fists into the air.

 

“Who was that kid?”

 

“Huh?” I look over in confusion at Gaara's sudden question. I almost missed it it was so fast.

 

“The kid with you, looks like Uchiha. Who was he?” Gaara stares at me, scrutinizing every twitch I make and every word I say. I hate when he does this, I can't get anything past him.

 

The heat starts to pool into my cheeks, and I desperately try and force it back while acting as normal as possible.

 

“Sasuke, Itachi's little brother.” I shrug. “Why?”

 

Gaara smirks, and I suddenly don't feel so good anymore. His smirk is fucking scary, I could see why his siblings would be terrified of him… well, I would be able to if I didn't know him so well.

 

“No reason.” He says nonchalantly. “Just that he was practically fantasizing about you right at the table. Uchihas must have a thing for Uzumakis.”

 

There's no stopping my blush now. It hits me like a tsunami, and I actually stumble back, spluttering and rattling off unintelligible sounds that would shame penguin-speak at his words, because damn does he have a way with them.

 

Gaara chuckles, the one that would make serial killers run for the hills with their tails between their legs, and my body temperature drops another ten degrees.

 

“You're blushing?” he mocks. “You never blush. What, you got a thing for him?”

 

“WHAT?! NO! THAT'D BE—”

 

“Well give it up.” Gaara cuts me off, leaning back further against the wall behind us. “He's an Uchiha, you don't have a chance, especially because Deidara's already claimed the older one.”

 

That cuts me off. My gaze drops to the ground and I lean back against the wall with him. “I know.” I mumble. I know Gaara cares for me, he's just trying to protect me, but he doesn't exactly have the best people skills. That translated from Gaara language is: don't try and go after him, if you can't be with him because of your social status it'll kill you. I got pretty damn good at Gaara language when we first met in preschool because he didn't really know how to talk any other way.

 

“You know you just admitted to liking him, right?” Gaara snickers.

 

“I DID NOT!” I bellow, wrenching off the wall and facing him, one of my fists in his face.

 

The little shit just smirks again.

 

My face must look like a sunburned tomato. Bright red. Because it feels like it's 1,032 degrees right now.

 

“What the hell do you even see in him?” Gaara asks rudely. Translation: what is appealing to you about him? I want to know so I know what to look for in someone.

 

Yeah, he isn't very good about speaking his mind.

 

I groan, moving back to the wall and whack my head against the brick a few times. “I—don't—know!” I say between whacks.

 

“You just admitted it.”

 

I do another impersonation of a fish before realizing that there's nothing I can say to counter that, and even if I did, it would be too late anyway, so I just settle for banging my head against the wall faster, and Gaara helps the situation immensely by laughing at my inflicting brain damage upon myself. He's such a good friend (that's more sarcasm).

 

“Whatever.” He says finally. “Break's over, let's go.” He pushes off the wall and heads for the door.

 

I sigh before following, though it takes me a while to find my way to the door and actually grasp the handle to open it, because I'm really dizzy now, and the second I put one foot through the door, a hand practically being shoved up my nose makes me grind to a halt.

 

Gaara's standing there, glaring accusingly at me with his hand outstretched.

 

“But Gaara—” I whine, or start to whine, instantly knowing what he wants.

 

“Now, Uzumaki.” He snarls, his lip actually pulling back like a rabid dog, or I should say raccoon, because of the insomnia rings around his eyes.

 

“Gaara—!” I try again, holding my hand protectively over my pocket, eeping quietly at his glare. One word: death. This is the glare that says as clearly as if he were actually saying it out loud, `If you don't give those to me, I will slit your throat with a rusty butter knife and watch while you drown on your own blood that runs down your throat into your lungs.'

 

I quickly hand over the pack of cigarettes in my pocket, scuttling as far away from him as possible as he steps back out of the bar. He winds his arm back, hurling the box out of the alley where it lands in a puddle in the road and a car promptly runs it over. Someone up there hates me.

 

“And don't buy anymore.” Gaara snaps, grabbing me by my hair and dragging me back inside, as usual, ignoring my cries of pain and protest against the torture. Ok, so maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but it still hurts.

 

************(Sasuke's POV)************

 

“Ok, let me get this straight. Itachi wanted to take you to a gay bar, you went—”

 

“I was forced.” I growl into the receiver of the phone.

 

“—and you met someone. Deidara Uzumaki's cousin.” The boy claries in disbelief. “Who hates you, and you want me to go back there with you, without Itachi, to keep his friends busy while you try—and most likely fail—to hit it off with him.”

 

“Fail?” I repeat dangerously. I. Never. Fail. At. Anything.

 

“Sasuke, I have a girlfriend!” He yells, forcing me to jerk the phone away from my ear to save my eardrum. “Do you know what'll happen if I'm seen there and it gets out?! First of all, my uncle will flip his lid like the end of the world is coming and flog me upside the head for being gay, because you can't have heirs with two guys, which he wants me to take on—”

 

“Neji, what the hell else am I supposed to do?” I bark, my temper rising quickly. “Like hell I'm going back with Itachi, nothing will ever happen except me—”

 

“Drooling?” Neji cuts me off. “What is with you? Nothing fazed you and all of a sudden you look at this Naruto—ONCE—and you're head over heels—”

 

“Look, are you going with me or not?” I snap, the pen in my hand about to break from my vice grip.

 

Neji sighs into the phone, and I can almost see his pearl-grey eyes staring into space like they always do when he's thinking hard about something.

 

“Why am I taking you?” Neji asks finally, giving in.

 

I feel the smirk crawl onto my face before I quickly wipe it away. “I don't know why you're taking me, you hide yourself too well for me to be able to predict what you'd do and why.”

 

Neji groans into the phone. “Alright, I got it, but you're going with my cover-up story no matter what it is.”

 

“Whatever, just spit it out.”

 

“What the hell is your hurry? You planning on going back tonight or something? It's only been… two… days…”

 

My pause tells Neji exactly what he needs to know. He isn't known as a genius for nothing.

 

“Aw, shit! Come on, Sasuke, give me a fucking break! I'm right in the middle of—”

 

“Deidara's over here now, which means it might be the only time in months I can be there without him breathing down my neck.” I cut him off.

 

Another painful pause fills the air.

 

“Now?” Neji groans. “I promised Tenten I would—”

 

“Tell her something came up, if she's your girlfriend, she understand.”

 

“You have a lot of faith in that.” Neji accuses, sighing again when I remain silent. “Pick me up in ten minutes.” He says curtly, and promptly hangs up.

 

I smirked triumphantly and close my cell phone, sliding it into my pocket as I reached for my coat. I yank it on and grab my wallet, walking as casually down the stairs as I can. Wolves can smell your fear, and presently, I have two in my house, a blonde one, and a larger version of me. I hate how much we look alike.

 

“Where you off to, small stuff?” Deidara asks.

 

I nearly throw up right there on the stairs. Deidara is straddling my brother's legs on the couch, with his shirt off. I don't want to see it, but the damage is done. I've already looked, and Itachi's shirt is half open, and I can see the saliva glistening on his skin. I look away and fight my lurching stomach, commanding myself not to barf up my lungs in front of him.

 

“Why the hell can't you stay in your fucking room?!” I yell, getting out of the living room and heading for the front door as fast as I can. “What the hell are you even doing here anyway?!”

 

“Mother and father aren't home, and my house is being remodeled, so I'm here spending some time with my wonderful little brother.” Itachi answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “And because I don't have a couch in my room.”

 

“Then bring the damn thing up there!” I bellow, wrenching on my shoes.

 

“Don't you want a couch down here?”

 

“I wont ever be sitting on that thing again after this!”

 

“Where you going?”

 

“Neji's!” I bark, grabbing my keys off the hook.

 

“Do you have a special place for him in your heart, un, or can we still try and get you and Naruto together?” Deidara asks bluntly.

 

I trip over my own feet at the comment, and promptly smash my head against the door as I fall. I stumble back, rubbing the welt I can feel forming on my forehead tenderly.

 

“Neji has a girlfriend!” I yell, heaving open the door with enough force to almost take it off its hinges.

 

“But you could still like him, un.” Deidara points out innocently.

 

My face contorts with disgust. “HE'S JUST A FRIEND!” I roar, storming out of the door and slamming it as hard as I can.

 

************(3rd Person POV)************

 

“So, un?” Deidara asks Itachi as soon as Sasuke is gone.

 

Itachi shakes his head in an almost disappointed way. “No, they're just friends, you can tell by his tone of voice. We can keep trying with Naruto.”

 

“Perfect, un.” Deidara purrs, leaning back into Itachi's lips.

 

************(Sasuke's POV)************

 

My tires scream against the pavement as I do a turn into Neji's driveway that only stunt men should be allowed to do and lean on the horn, still fuming from Deidara and Itachi. It's a miracle I didn't get pulled over, I was doing 80 when I first started out and I know I accelerated way past that. To put that in perspective, it usually takes me half an hour to get her, and it only took me ten minutes—less actually.

 

Hinata's out in the garden with Kiba's dog Akamaru, staring at me like I've lost it. The thing they call a dog must be mutated, it comes up to Kiba's chest, and Hinata's head and shoulders shorter than Kiba, so the dog's as big as she is.

 

…I probably have lost it.

 

“Shut the hell up, Uchiha! I'm coming!” Neji shouts, storming out of the house. I take pity on their ears and take my arm off the wheel.

 

“Christ, we have kids on this street you know, it's late, don't wake them all up.” Neji snaps, sitting down heavily in the passenger seat. Yeah, like I give a damn.

 

The tires screech again on the road and we tear off toward the bar as soon as the door is shut, Neji hanging onto his seat like a lifeline the whole time.

 

 

 

 

RR&R!

 

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