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Glue between the Cracks	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Naruto/Sasuke Views: 4116 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto nor make profit of it. Kishimoto owns it.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Author's note: So after a bit more than a month I finally got around to finishing this chapter. Many apologies that it took me this long! I had some trouble figuring out where I would end it, but thanks to one of my friends (Meehalla, thanks sweetheart!) I finally managed it! Yay! So yes, here I am at nearly two in the morning, editing this chapter. Do not follow my life choices, my dears.
PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS!
Warnings: Flashback; no offence meant to the French; reference to past drug abuse and drug addiction; small time skips
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto owns it.
For a translation of the French part, see the second AN. I hope you'll enjoy this!
Chapter 12
"Your proposal to Naruto-kun," Itachi repeated slowly, wondering whether he was hearing things.
"Yes, I have an idea in mind, but I want to run it by you first to hear your thoughts about it," Sasuke explained.
"I didn't know you were thinking about proposing," Itachi murmured.
The words had barely left his mouth when he acknowledged how stupid they sounded. Even when he hadn't known about it, this shouldn't come as a surprise. He'd seen Naruto's Mark on more than one occasion already and he'd spotted his brother's Mark a couple of times too when the collar of his shirt was pulled away for a moment.
Carrying your partner's Mark was the highest form of commitment one could think of; therefore it shouldn't be a surprise that Sasuke was ready to marry Naruto even at their young age.
"I've been sort of planning it for nearly a year now," Sasuke admitted. "I just had trouble coming up with a good proposal idea."
"What's the idea then?" It probably wouldn't be something as simple as just going down on the knee and presenting a ring. If that was all, Sasuke wouldn't have called him for his opinion and he wouldn't have been walking around with the idea for nearly a year now.
"Well," Sasuke hesitated audibly. "I was thinking of getting a shirt for Itarou and print the question on that, like 'please marry my papa' or so. Then I would dress Itarou in it and have it be a surprise for Naruto when he undresses him. What do you think?"
"That sounds like a great and original idea to me. You should definitely use that," Itachi smiled. "Do you already have a ring or are you still searching one?"
Not that he would be able to offer much help if Sasuke needed it. He'd never been interested in any type of jewellery and wouldn't know what kind of ring would be suitable for a proposal. His brother would be better off asking Deidara for help then; Deidara had worked in a jewellery shop for a while and would be of much better assistance.
There was Konan too, of course, but Itachi was determined to keep that particular part of his life in the past where it belonged.
"Here's the thing," Sasuke said slowly and the note of apprehension in his voice had Itachi sitting up alert. "After mother and father were buried, Kakashi and I moved away and I didn't take much with me. I kept their rings, though, and I want – I want to use mother's ring to propose."
Even though he hadn't seen the ring in years, Itachi had no trouble recalling the memory of it. A golden ring with a thin line of sapphires set in the middle of it; not too gaudy or too big, but elegant. The ring had been in the family for generations; a heirloom dating back to the time when clans still existed.
"If you prefer I don't use it, then I - "
"No, no, you can have mother's ring," Itachi reassured him, rubbing the back of his hand absently across his forehead. "Sorry, I just hadn't thought about that ring in years …" he trailed off, recalling how proud their mother had been, wearing that ring.
Not because of the value of it – "Your father could have given me a toy ring and I still would have said yes to him, darling." – but because to her it had represented complete trust on father's side. Father had entrusted her with one of the Uchiha's more precious heirlooms and that knowledge had been worth more than the ring's actual value.
"Mother would be happy to know you're going to use that ring to propose," Itachi smiled.
Their mother would have been over the moon if she had known her youngest son would be using her ring to propose to his mate. Even so many years later, it still ached that both their parents would be missing out on so many important moments. Mother and father would have loved Naruto for sure and they would have absolutely adored their grandson.
"You're sure you don't want it?" Sasuke asked uncertainly. "I don't mind, I can go find another ring if that's the case."
"No, Sasuke, it's okay. Use her ring; I'm sure she would have wanted that."
"Well, okay," Sasuke acquiesced tentatively.
"When are you going to propose? Do you have a specific date in mind?"
"I still need to get the shirt printed," Sasuke replied. "I was thinking maybe during our break. We're both swamped with university work now anyways and I don't want any distractions when I propose."
"That makes sense," Itachi agreed.
They talked for a little bit longer before Itarou demanded his papa's attention and Itachi could hear Naruto calling in the background that it was Sasuke's turn to change the diaper. They hung up after making plans to have dinner together in the weekend and Itachi was left with his work again.
He stared unseeingly at the document for a little while, pondering about the phone call. It felt a bit odd to imagine that next year his brother might be married, but he supposed that feeling could be equated to the one he'd experienced when he had discovered he would become an uncle. It wasn't a bad feeling at all; just a tad strange.
To think that up until a year ago he never thought he would experience anything of this …
Shaking his head, he went back to work, trying to decide what the best way was to translate this particular paragraph.
"Would you mind waiting here for a bit?" Sasori asked, gesturing at the gallery while he retrieved another set of keys from his bag. "The guy will be here soon, but I need to put some files away first."
"Not a problem," Itachi said, looking around in interest.
There were a couple of paintings hanging on the wall across from him, mainly portrayals of nature scenes, which were shielded from the daylight pouring through the large windows by a fake wall. The fake white wall covered up the windows for a part, making sure that the paint of the pictures wouldn't accidentally fade.
Some cousins of his had gone into the art business, but while he could appreciate nice art, he didn't really have an eye for it. He knew next to nothing about art, so he wouldn't even be able to tell whether these paintings were made by someone famous or not.
A faint buzzing in his pocket had him pulling out his phone while Sasori disappeared through a door on the right. He smiled when he saw the picture Sasuke had sent him: it showed his brother holding mother's ring above Itarou, who stared at it with large eyes and an open mouth, his little fists frozen in grabby movements.
Underneath it Sasuke had written, Itarou approves of the ring. Think he'll be able to keep this a secret from his daddy?
Me 02.50 p.m.
Sure, as long as he hasn't inherited Shisui's big mouth
Bless his older cousin, but the man hadn't been known for being able to keep secrets. He wasn't malicious and didn't blab around secrets on purpose, but his mouth often ran quicker than his mind could follow. Itachi's aunt had learnt long ago that if a secret needed to be kept, telling Shisui about it was out of the question.
Thinking about his cousin made him wonder what the older man was up to now. Perhaps he should try to reach out to some of their family members, figure out where they stood now.
Otouto 02.51 p.m.
God, I hope not. That guy couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it
Movement in the corner of his eye distracted Itachi and he looked up at the same time the door to the gallery opened. A young man with wind swept, dark blond hair, dressed in a light grey suit and a dark blue tie, entered, a large map clenched between his left arm and his side, while his other hand pressed a phone against his ear.
"Je suis arrivé à cette galerie d'art," the man spoke and Itachi realised this was the French artist Sasori was supposed to meet with in a few minutes.
The artist looked around, his eyes sliding across Itachi as if he didn't even see him, and an unimpressed look crossed his face briefly when he looked at the paintings on the wall.
"Je ne comprends toujours pas pourquoi vous m'envoyez ici," he said disdainfully, coming to a stop in the middle of the gallery. "Mais enfin, les japonais ne savent rien de l'art! Avez-vous déjà vu ce qu'ils considèrent comme de l'art? C'est une honte!"
Itachi had heard that the French could be quite pretentious; it seemed this particular guy was the living example of that stereotype.
The man huffed in response to whatever the person on the other end of the line was telling him. "Non, il y a quelqu'un ici, mais ce n'est pas Monsieur Sasori. Juste un autre mec japonais."
A slight pause and then the man rolled his eyes heavily. "Peu importe ce que je dis. Ce n'est pas comme s'il pouvait me comprendre. Ça me surprendrait s'il pouvait même comprendre l'anglais, encore moins le français. Les japonais ne sont pas vraiment connus pour leurs compétences linguistiques," he sneered.
Did that guy really think that Japan didn't offer any language classes? Perhaps that was the case for France, but certainly not for Japan. Admittedly not that many Japanese people were fluent in French, but it was still quite idiotic to simply assume that one couldn't understand you because you were speaking another language.
That was actually how he had managed to track down one of the masterminds behind the burglary, because that group had been stupid to assume that nobody would be able to understand English.
It was quite remarkable how utterly stupid people could be, really.
"N'y comptez pas! Je refuse de parler l'anglais. S'il ne me comprend pas, c'est son problème, pas le mien," the guy said haughtily, resting his map against the fake wall. He looked at his watch and clucked his tongue. "Je ne vois pas pourquoi je devrais me déranger. Je devrais visiter les grandes galeries, pas celle insignifiante. Cet endroit ne m'aidera pas dans ma carrière et vous le savez!"
While the guy kept ranting and complaining to the poor soul on the other end of the line, Itachi went through the door Sasori had disappeared into a few minutes ago. The door led to a corridor with a couple of rooms on each side. One door on his left was open and when he peeked inside, he saw Sasori closing a cabinet drawer before opening the one underneath it.
"The artist you're meeting with has arrived," Itachi announced; the corners of his lips twitching slightly when Sasori cursed in surprise.
"Well, at least he's punctual," Sasori muttered after checking the clock. "I hate tardiness."
"That might be his only redeeming feature," Itachi said dryly and at the man's curious look, he elaborated, "He's of the opinion that this 'small gallery' won't help his career and that Japanese don't know anything about art. He seems to think that greater things await him in bigger art galleries. Oh and he refuses to speak English simply because. I overheard him talking on the phone."
"I hate pretentious artists like that," Sasori muttered darkly, slamming the drawer shut. "They think they're big stars already when they haven't even had one exposition yet."
He eyed Itachi shrewdly. "You overheard him talking on the phone, you say? In French then, I assume."
"Yes, I did."
"But he has no idea that you understood every single word," Sasori mused and his eyes started to glimmer almost deviously.
Itachi found he quite liked that look on the red haired man. "No, he's under the impression that Japanese don't understand other languages."
As if Europe had a monopoly on translation, honestly.
"Well then," Sasori said lightly; a smirk dancing around his mouth. "This is going to be a very interesting introduction then, won't you say?"
He grabbed a file from his desk and walked to the door. "Let's go properly introduce ourselves, shall we?"
"After you," Itachi said amused, following him back into the front of the gallery.
"Ah, Monsieur Sasori!" the artist exclaimed. He shot a quick look at Itachi, appearing a tad surprised to see him standing next to Sasori, but continued, "C'est tellement agréable de vous rencontrer enfin. Je m'appelle Luc Boucher." There was a faint smirk plastered across his face, clearly expecting Sasori to be caught off guard now by his use of French.
"I'm Sasori no Akasuna and this is my interpreter Itachi Uchiha. It's nice to meet you," Sasori introduced himself.
"Bonjour, il s'appelle Sasori no Akasuna et moi, je suis son interprète, Itachi Uchiha. Ravi de faire votre connaissance," Itachi translated in fluent French.
The look on Luc's face as he realised just how badly he had messed up was definitely worth setting his own work aside for an afternoon.
"Where did you learn French? Did they offer classes at your school?" Sasori asked curiously, two and a half hour later.
They were at a nearby café, enjoying some nice sandwiches and some tea after Sasori had finished critiquing the artist's work. He'd sent Boucher packing with the message that his work wasn't what Sasori's art gallery was looking for. Itachi didn't think he had ever seen such a sour face on anyone as when Boucher had trudged out of the gallery.
Sasori had suggested eating a light dinner at a café close to his gallery and Itachi had agreed, thinking it would be a nice change from making dinner himself.
Sasori's question had him pausing and he lowered his cup onto the table again as he thought about it. Konan had actually been the one to teach him French as a way to distract his mind. She had studied abroad for several years and was fluent in French, English and Russian. Five months after he'd followed Nagato into the underworld, she'd marched into his room and had ordered him to pick one of the three languages to learn.
"And why would I learn a language?" he asked puzzled, closing the file Nagato had given him earlier today.
He hadn't seen the blue haired woman around much yet, though he knew she was Nagato's wife. Nagato had also made it very clear that she was off limits, not that Itachi had any interest in her. She was a very beautiful woman, no doubt about it, but his interest laid somewhere else.
She raised an eyebrow and threw a pointed look at the file. "I know why you're here and why Nagato took you under his wing. I also know how warped people's minds can become if they focus on revenge too much," she answered calmly, but coolly. "You need something to distract you so you don't drive yourself crazy."
"And you suggest learning a language will help me not become insane," he said and couldn't help the sceptic tone in his voice.
The smile she offered him was razor sharp. "Your mind needs a break from all the planning and studying a language is ideal for that, because it will force you to keep your mind focused on the study material. Besides," she shrugged elegantly, "you never know when a language might come in handy. You cannot operate on the assumption that your targets will always speak Japanese. So which language will it be? If you prefer another one, I can always reach out to some of my colleagues."
He sat there pondering for a while, weighing his options. He knew English from classes at school, so there was no reason to pick that one. Russian sounded interesting, but French … He remembered how excited mother had been whenever she spoke about her honeymoon in France, the times she had lamented not having studied the language more thoroughly.
He looked up and caught grey eyes; purple eyeshadow bringing out the colour in them. "French, please."
Her pale red lips curled up into a smile. "French it is."
"I studied it on my own with the help of someone who lived in France for a while," he chose to answer.
Sasori looked at him knowingly. "Was this during the time you had to lie low?"
"Yes, it is."
The red haired man looked like he was contemplating something, unsure whether he should ask whatever he clearly wanted to ask.
"Say whatever's on your mind," Itachi said lightly, taking a sip from his hot tea.
Sasori pursed his lips together. "I don't mean to come across as pushy, but will you ever tell me what you really did during those years you were off the radar? Deidara only told me you were lying low after the break-in, but I have a hard time believing that's all you did."
Itachi smiled wryly. "Nothing gets past you, huh? I'm not sure I'm ready to have you change your opinion about me if I tell you what I did."
"Who says I have a high opinion about you now?" Sasori smirked.
"You wouldn't have consented to dating me if you didn't," the dark haired man shot back.
"Hm, true," Sasori conceded, his smirk growing for a moment before he grew serious again. "I won't judge you if that's what you're worrying about."
"I'm not so sure about that," Itachi muttered grimly.
It had been one thing to tell the truth to Sasuke, Naruto and Deidara. Aside from Naruto, they had known him before and confessing the truth had been easier. Not easy, but easier at least. He wasn't so sure whether Sasori would react just as accepting as the others had done and he felt reluctant to share his past when it was a less than idyllic one.
"It would be quite hypocritical of me to judge you if you have a less than savoury past, Itachi," Sasori murmured, his grey eyes intense. "It's not like mine is that perfect."
"I somehow doubt it's worse than mine," Itachi said wryly.
The other man tilted his head to the left before he took a deep breath and leant forward, closing the short distance between them. "Look, you don't need to tell me if you're not comfortable with it. I just don't want you to think you need to keep parts of yourself hidden. Like I said, I don't have a nice past."
He hesitated briefly; looking out of the window for a moment before he appeared to steal himself and he turned back to face Itachi. "I don't think Deidara has told you this, but … when I was fifteen, I fell in with a bad crowd." He spoke slowly; a faint grimace flitting across his face. "It was sort of a gang, if you will. I – ended up getting addicted to drugs. It was honestly pretty bad."
He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not going to bore you with the details, but I spent the rest of my teenage years ruining my life with drugs and the wrong kind of people around me. I finally got out of that world and cleaned up my act thanks to one of my teachers. He taught art and he, well … He didn't treat me like I was a lost cause. He didn't go easy on me, but he didn't act like I was worthless either. He got me into art and – basically saved my life. I owe my life to him and to art."
Releasing a sigh, Sasori rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand as if he was wiping away some foul taste. "I'm not telling you this to get pity or to force you into telling me your story. I just want to show that I'm not one to judge. Because I came from a bad place where everyone constantly judged me and I know all too well how much your past can define you. So I just want you to know that whenever you feel ready, you can tell me and I won't judge."
Never in a million years had Itachi expected Sasori to have a drug past. He knew one shouldn't judge a book by its cover as they said, but nothing about the man sitting in front of him now revealed that once, years before, he'd been heavily addicted to drugs. Itachi admired him for being able to take control of his life that much that he could completely change it.
During his years with Nagato, he had encountered quite a few people addicted to drugs – those goods were rife in the underworld – and none of them had appeared inclined to change their lives and quit their addiction.
For Sasori to have been able to do that … That was quite admirable and deserving of respect.
"Deidara knows about this?"
Sasori nodded. "He does. Told him the truth when we knew each other for three months. I took a risk, but I made the mistake once before of keeping quiet about it. I didn't want to lose him if he thought I had purposefully kept this from him."
"Ah." Itachi was quiet for a moment, before he decided that he needed to return at least some of the honesty Sasori had shown him. He wouldn't tell him all the details, but … it wouldn't really be fair either if Deidara knew everything while he was kept out of the loop. Their relationship would never be able to work out completely then.
"I did lie low for years," he said lowly, making sure his voice didn't carry over to the other tables. "Because I went after the people who broke into my home and murdered my parents."
Sasori nodded slowly. "And did you get them all?"
"I did," Itachi answered simply, leaving it unsaid what exactly he did with them.
"I understand," Sasori said after a short pause in which he digested what Itachi had – and hadn't – told him. "You didn't have it easy."
"You apparently didn't either," Itachi remarked calmly.
Sasori smiled faintly. "No, but we both came out on top in the end."
They had indeed.
They celebrated Valentine's Day with all three of them together, eating dinner together and watching some silly films. Unfortunately all three of them had an early morning the next day, so after the movie was finished, they fell asleep in the same bed at Deidara's and Sasori's apartment.
Itachi wasn't certain whether he would be able to fall asleep with not one but two other people sharing the bed with him, but as Deidara snuggled into his chest and Sasori's hand stretched out to cover his arm, the man's face buried in Deidara's neck, sleep found Itachi remarkably soon and he slept through the entire night without even the slightest hint of a nightmare.
Slowly he was getting used to sharing his attention between two people and as he started to meet up more regularly with both Deidara and Sasori, he became more at ease. He'd always been one to plan everything, having a plan B, C and even D for every situation just in case. Planning – aside from dates and what they could do during them of course – didn't really work out that well for their relationship, but he didn't mind that. It was a refreshing change, to be honest, not knowing exactly what the next day would bring for him and his two partners.
While he had become used to more spontaneity in his life – one couldn't date Deidara without expecting spontaneity as well – he had to admit that Sasori's call at the end of the month took him completely off guard and left him speechless for the first time that he could remember.
"Deidara's heat started. You want to come over?"
AN2: Yes, I really did end the chapter at this point. Why? Because I'm evil, I suppose. (And I finally wanted to give you guys something after the month long wait).
Translation: "Je suis arrivé à cette galerie d'art." = "I have arrived at this art gallery."
"Je ne comprends toujours pas pourquoi vous m'envoyez ici." = "I still don't understand why you sent me here."
"Mais enfin, les japonais ne savent rien de l'art! Avez-vous déjà vu ce qu'ils considèrent comme de l'art? C'est une honte!" = "Ah come on, the Japanese don't know anything about art! Have you seen the stuff they consider art? It's a disgrace!"
"Non, il y a quelqu'un ici, mais ce n'est pas Monsieur Sasori. Juste un autre mec japonais." = "No, there's someone here, but it's not Mister Sasori. It's just another Japanese guy."
"Peu importe ce que je dis. Ce n'est pas comme s'il pouvait me comprendre. Ça me surprendrait s'il pouvait même comprendre l'anglais, encore moins le français. Les japonais ne sont pas vraiment connus pour leurs compétences linguistiques." = "It doesn't matter what I say. It's not like he can understand me. It would surprise me if he can even understand English, let alone French. The Japanese aren't exactly known for their language skills."
"N'y comptez pas! Je refuse de parler l'anglais. S'il ne me comprend pas, c'est son problème, pas le mien." = Forget it! I refuse to speak English. If he doesn't understand me, that's his problem, not mine."
"Je ne vois pas pourquoi je devrais me déranger. Je devrais visiter les grandes galeries, pas celle insignifiante. Cet endroit ne m'aidera pas dans ma carrière et vous le savez!" = "I don't see why I should bother. I should be visiting the important galleries, not this insignificant one. This place isn't going to help my carreer and you know it!"
"C'est tellement agréable de vous rencontrer enfin. Je m'appelle Luc Boucher."= "It's nice to finally meet you. My name is Luc Boucher."
"Bonjour, il s'appelle Sasori no Akasuna et moi, je suis son interprète, Itachi Uchiha. Ravi de faire votre connaissance." = Hello, his name is Sasori no Akasuna and I'm his interpreter, Itachi Uchiha. It's nice to meet you."
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistake (in the regular chapter or the French part), please point it out to me.
I hope to see you all back in the next chapter! Please stay safe and take care of yourselves!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Glue between the Cracks