Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Artist	By : emochickenbutt Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Itachi/Sasuke Views: 2684 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and I do not make any money from writing this.

Chapter List
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I cannot even begin to apologize for the delay. A horrendous amount of work has come between me and my writing, and I hate that I couldn’t do anything to stop it. between a full class schedule, at least 15 hours a week at work, and at least 15 every week towards community service, any extra time I’ve got is pretty much useless because most of my brain is dried up and my creative abilities get low.
And these characters! About five different ones suddenly pushed their way into my story and decided they wanted their part even though it wasn’t in my plan at all, and it’s gotten to the point that I’m not sure this is my story anymore. Luckily I’ve managed to coax them into behaving.
However, the chapter I’ve been working on so very slowly—as you all have felt—is here. Sort of, anyway. I’m not happy with some of the wording, so there’s a 60% chance it will change slightly when I post the next one (which will be within the next month or so, cause the next one is in the editing phase). The official chapter 3 was supposed to be about twenty pages longer, but those pages aren’t ready yet and I figure I can post them into the next one.
I don't own Toph, Suki, (they belong to Dante DiMartino of Avatar: The Last Airbender) I just hate using OCs and these two fit just fine. And if it isn't your thing, just ignore the references to the Big Bang Theory, Bleach, Death Note, Kingdom Hearts, Fruits Basket, Naruto: The Abridged Series, and other random anime refs. I own none of these and I make no money from mentioning them in any capacity. The allusions are just for giggles and my own entertainment
So please don’t hate me, don’t get mad, just know that I’ve been pulling twelve and thirteen hour days four or five times a week, and that I’m posting this between homework and sleeping and sacrificing much needed snooze time. But I’m feeling pretty sick today so it’s ok if I don’t make awesome choices.

Anyway, I’ve loved every review I’ve gotten and they really brightened my day and I read them when I worked on this so hopefully any questions you have are answered here and if not it will be when this story is over.

So read, if you please, and enjoy!

* * *

DING-DONG.

DING-DONG.

“Go away.” Sasuke mumbled into his pillow. Again, the doorbell rang. Gradually his sleep drunk mind realized that Naruto had already left for work. He peeked an eye open, and indeed, sunlight was stabbing through the cracks of his blinds. He groaned again. Why did morning always feel so early? He looked at the clock, and saw that it was later than he thought. He had about half an hour to get ready for class; not a problem if Naruto left him some breakfast.

He tumbled out of bed, already forgetting what awoke him, and straightened the blankets enough so that it looked made. After a few minutes of fighting with a lump in the blanket, he realized it was one of his schoolbooks. Oh yeah… he hadn’t finished reading the chapter last night. He’d wrap up the reading while on the bus.

Still wiping the sleep from his eyes, he dragged himself into the hallway, intent on going to the bathroom to rinse his face—then he might be awake enough to function properly. But luckily for him, seeing the man sitting at his table woke him up sufficiently. Some sort of question tumbled out of his mouth, but general surprise was all that his mumblings communicated.

“How have you been?” Neji smiled calmly, familiar with sleepy Sasuke’s fails at speech.

“I haven’t—you were—how’d you get in?” The questions fought to get out of his mouth, each trying to be first.

His dark eyebrow rose at the relatively calm reaction. At the very least he’d expected his friend to yell or fall over. “Naruto told me where the hidden key was the last time you overslept.” He shut his cell phone. “I was just getting ready to call you, since I thought waking you up personally might startle you unnecessarily.”

“Good call—hahaha, oh, Naruto’s puns are getting inside my head.” He rubbed his eyes to clear them a bit. Neji was still sitting at his kitchen table, as if they hadn’t not seen each other for a couple weeks. It kicked in then, and he went over to the table. Neji stood as he approached, slightly concerned, and Sasuke gave him a hug and started talking quickly, now that he was properly awake. “How was London? When did your flight come in? Was Hinata all right?” He pulled back and started looking for some food, not noticing at all how stunned his friend currently was. Since Neji was here, Sasuke knew he’d have a ride to school and cutting out the bus time meant he had time to sit and eat.

“You know, you have so much work to make up. You’re lucky you’re dad’s the president, because I don’t think professor Ebisu would let you otherwise.”

Having located and obtained the cereal, he sat down at the table to eat. After a few bites, he looked up. “What’s the matter?”

Neji sat down heavily. “I could be wrong…”

“I should get that statement on record.” Sasuke muttered between crunches.

“—but I think you just hugged me.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “So?” Then he thought about it.

Oh. Right. Last Neji had seen him, he’d been quite different. He’d gotten his job after his friend had left to take care of his cousin, so the changes would seem sudden to him.

“You must have an amazing therapist, or super strong drugs.”

“Hey!” He kicked at his shin. “I know you’re kidding, but come on. Drugs and therapy aren’t always the answer.”

“What was your answer? I’m hoping it isn’t violence.”

“Violence is never the answer. Violence is the question, and the answer is always yes.”

“You apply it well enough,” he rubbed his shin, “but I don’t think it suits your personality.” And considering what violence had been done to him, it sometimes surprised Neji that his best friend could still be rough every now and then. But only sometimes. Most of the time, it was easy enough to explain away by the mere fact that Sasuke was male, regardless of his sexual orientation. “If not therapy or drugs or violence, then what?”

Sasuke swallowed carefully. Of all the people involved in his life, Neji had been the one who took his decision to remain single for a while most seriously. Logical minded as he was, the man had reasoned that if boyfriends bring trouble, and you don’t want trouble, don’t have a boyfriend. While excited about Itachi, eager for Neji to meet him, he knew Neji would be frustrated at first.

“Less of a ‘what’ and more of a… who.”

Neji blinked. “Is all that sci-fi getting inside your head? Has Naruto made you watch Doctor Who? Next you’ll start carrying bananas everywhere and telling strangers on the street ‘don’t blink.’ Though this actually means that you were helped by a doctor, and I don’t mind being right.” He smirked.

“Sure you don’t, but that’s not what I meant.” His breakfast was done, so he put his dishes in the dishwasher and went into the other room to change. Neji stayed at the table. Sasuke may have given him a hug, but one unusual action did not mean he would be ok with people watching him change. From what he’d gathered by listening to conversations between the “father-son” duo, he knew the last ex-boyfriend had given him some kind of scarring, though he wasn’t one to push the issue, so he never asked to see it and therefore didn’t want to risk upsetting his friend by accidentally coming across it.

Sasuke grabbed some clothes from the closet, choosing his words meticulously. He spoke loud enough for Neji to hear him in the other room. “Just after you left, I found a job in the newspaper; it doesn’t pay a lot but I need to start saving if I want my own place. All I have to do is sit and let people draw me. So far, I’ve worn a few suits and a football uniform. It’s easy.”

He paused. This was the tricky part. “Except on the first day, I had a… moment, and I thought I saw Juugo.”

“A… moment.” It was clear he understood that euphemism. “Which one was he?”

“The last one.”

“Oh.” There was complete silence for a minute as Sasuke searched for his comfortable jeans, which were apparently in hiding. Seems they didn’t like the bitterly cold weather, either. “And then? What happened?”

“Well, he wasn’t really there, but it shook me up a bit. Luckily, one of the students is a nurse and covered for me in front of the class and made sure I was all right. We went to grab dinner, since this person insisted I eat something, and then we ran into Naruto. Apparently, this person helped Naruto back when he beat up… hmm, I can’t remember which one. I think it was Kabuto.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, so it’s—”

“You like him, don’t you?”

Sasuke froze, one sock half on. “What?”

“You needed help, some guy stepped in, and now you’re trying to keep me from becoming annoyed with you.”

Sasuke nodded, forgetting that Neji was in the kitchen. There was silence for a few minutes, and Sasuke let it sit. Neji would speak when he was sure of what he wanted to say.

A glance at the clock shifted the topic. “Well, I’ll certainly be annoyed with you if you don’t hurry up. We really might be late if you keep taking your time like this.” A glance at the clock showed his friend was right, and he hurriedly stuffed his books in his backpack, slipped into his shoes, and grabbed his coat and scarf, zipping, buttoning, and tying as he walked out. He glanced around to make sure everything was turned off and that the timed light was plugged in, hitting the button for the stereo so it would seem less empty. Classes didn’t end until late, and Naruto only beat him home every now and then. He hated walking into a quiet, dark house.

“Should I lock the door?”

“I got it.” He locked the door, placed the key in his pocket, and turned the knob again to assure himself that the lock had clicked.

They climbed into the car, and Sasuke was grateful it was still a bit warm. “It’s absolutely freezing. I bet the weather in London was nice.”

“It was. Well, decent would be a better word. Not as bad as here, though.” He checked in his backseat. “Damn. I forgot them at home so you’ll have to remind me later, but I got you and Naruto souvenirs.”

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. I mean, it wasn’t exactly a pleasure trip.”

“No.” His expression lost all joviality. “I never really knew that part of my family. Hinata moved away from her dad as soon as she was legal, and has an apartment somewhere around here. We haven’t been able to find out her address, though she’s responding to our phone calls finally. She didn’t want to be too close to us, because she didn’t want to be the reason our fathers fought, but considering that they’d been fighting long before and that her father’s dead now, I hope that she comes to be close to us again.” He sighed. “Her little sister is a mess. We nearly had to drag her back, but she just can’t live on her own.”

“I haven’t seen Hinata in… ten years, at least. Even then it was only briefly.” They both thought back to sunny summers, heroic games of tag with the other orphanage kids, swim races in the Hyuuga pool, and procrastinating summer projects for school. “I was sure she didn’t like us or thought we were beneath her, but then I realized that she was only a bit terrified of Naruto.” He chuckled.

“Can you blame her? You had grown up surrounded by his noise, and you two always came over to my house together so I was used to his noise be then, but she rarely was around anybody who spoke louder than a whisper.”

“It would be nice to see her again. So what’s she up to? She’d be in college now, right?”

“As far as I know, she’s in a university nearby, though she might be using a fake name because we haven’t found her yet. Her dad wouldn’t give her funding until he approved her career plan, and he didn’t approve of her plan. That was the exact point she moved out, and other than picking her up once from the airport, I haven’t seen her in years, either. Though I think she wanted to do something with graphic design.”

“Wow.” No wonder Hinata had spent every possible moment away from her father. It wasn’t some childhood misunderstanding like he had assumed; he felt a little guilty for being so envious of her for having even one parent. “I can hardly imagine… I mean, Naruto suggested that I become a teacher like him, but he’s fine that I haven’t made up my mind yet. I’ve got a lot of scholarships, and then your dad’s promised to fill any gaps personally, but…” he shook his head. “That must have been a lot of pressure, having to get everything you do approved by someone that practically hates you.”

“Well, she’s free now.” Hyuuga had been fortunate, because his dad was much more laid back than his brother had been. As long as his son’s grades were good and behavior far from delinquent, he didn’t mind what his son did. The same philosophy applied to his daughters, and ever since Neji and Sasuke had become best friends in kindergarten, and by extension, Naruto, he’d treated the other boys like family, too. “Speaking of pressure, ‘this person’ that gave you a hand isn’t pressuring you, is he? What’s he like?” Though if he’d had this much of an effect on Sasuke already, Neji might have to accept the guy regardless of what was wrong with him. Surely there had to be something. Nobody was genuinely this nice.

“You don’t need to sound so suspicious. He’s a great guy.” He brushed off the look he got for that statement. “And he’s different from the others.” He ignored the eye roll; Sasuke had said that about the last one, too. “I can already tell you don’t believe me. But you should know that Naruto likes him.”

“Hmm.” The noise was more thoughtful than Sasuke had been hoping, and kept going.

“Soon you’ll have to meet him. He just… he makes me feel safe. And he’s very attentive. It’s like he knows just how far he can go before it’s too much. And obviously he’s good for me—you clearly think I’m different. Better.” It was a fair, objective assessment; Neji just couldn’t help feeling a little jealous that a stranger had done so much for a friend he’d stood by for so long, and had been able to help so little.

“But the whole point of taking a break is so that you can worry about healing yourself. A vital part of that is rebuilding yourself without depending on another person like before. Leaning on friends and family is fine, because we support you, but romantic interests by their very nature require you to give.” With his hand he patted a spot near Sasuke’s arm without actually touching him, a habit he’d formed for when he would usually reassure someone through touch but modified because of Sasuke’s aversion to contact. “When we talked about this before, I thought we had agreed that we’d get you stable first. Naruto and I want to protect you, but you have to let us.”

The slight air of gloom emanating from his friend ultimately changed his mind. “However, if Naruto doesn’t hate him, then I guess I can at least reserve my judgment until after I meet him.”

Cheered, Sasuke responded, “I don’t think anybody can dislike him.” Though that did remind him of how the people in his class seemed cautious around him, and get him thinking why he was supposed to stay away from Orochimaru. Sure, he seemed like a creeper, but that was based on his first impression. People were wrong and misjudged too quickly all the time. Besides, the man must be a good guy, because he went out of his way to try to warn him that Itachi's past might get him involved in something unpleasant. Or did they know each other from somewhere else? Orochimaru seemed like he knew quite a bit about the Uchiha. He felt certain he wasn’t over thinking the issue, and resolved to find out more tomorrow.

“It’d be easier to find the white whale than a parking spot in this mess.” Neji gestured to lot, though he quickly retook the wheel to swerve around an illegally parked vehicle.

“Wasn’t your dad going to give you your own spot? I mean, he’s the president.”

“Dad was just messing with me—he keeps reminding me that he doesn’t play favorites, and loves all his students equally. As much as I argue with him, I know he’s right. Like mom says: we’re rich, not spoiled. Oh, and she wants to have you and Naruto over for the holidays. She says they just aren’t complete without you.” When he noticed his friend wasn’t saying anything, he looked over, and, seeing his contemplative expression, decided to give him a moment. Finally seeing an empty space, he maneuvered swiftly and pulling into a spot. They climbed out, and Hyuuga ventured the question. “Is something wrong?”

“Hmm.” There wasn’t really a simple answer to that question. “Yes and no. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately about what I’m supposed to do with my life. I need to pick a major so that I can graduate so that I can get a job so that I can make enough money to pay back all the people that have helped me get this far.” Mr. Hyuuga would never take any money back from him, but he was sure he could persuade the man to accept some sort of restitution.

Although he didn’t notice, Neji certainly did: how long had it been since his friend focused on the future? For years he had been worrying about the past, but in just a few weeks, Sasuke was like his old self—subtly optimistic, energetic (if their pace was anything to go by), and already he could tell that the vestiges of his paranoia were fading. Sasuke hadn’t checked over his shoulder once since they left the car, and his eyes weren’t shifting suspiciously from person to person, but wandering to take in the beauty of the campus at wintertime.

“I really like where I’m working. It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve started, but it just feels… homey. I haven’t had that sort of community feeling since The Home.” Realizing this might offend his friend, he elaborated. “Not that I didn’t love your house. And we stayed there half the time anyhow, but there was just something about the chaotically warm feeling, where everybody is there for the same purpose, that just doesn’t happen in single-family homes. You family is united, but these guys have the same sort of soul, as different as they are. It’s hard to explain.”

“I think I understand what you mean. I’ve beat up guys for my little sisters, and I’ve taken a few punches for them too, but there was always something about you and Naruto, even when you were fighting, like if either of you went just out of the other’s sight, the other would disappear, cease to exist. Like two halves of one coin.” That sounded much nicer to Sasuke than Naruto’s wording—he didn’t ‘follow Naruto around’ back then—if anything, the blonde was tailing him.

“Well, it’s such a familiar feeling that I kind of wish I could be there more often.” Now he knew exactly what expression Neji was wearing, though he turned to look at his friend to confirm it. “Don’t get frustrated; I’m not done talking yet. I’ve just been thinking that I need to pick a major, but since choosing is too hard just now, I’ve at least started crossing things off the list. That school is focused on the arts and music, and I know I’m more comfortable with something practical. I need consistency.”

“What about your mysterious man? He’s an artist, so wouldn’t he have an inconsistent lifestyle?”

“Actually, he hasn’t really stated what he plans to do. He has plenty of options, but from what I’ve gathered, he’s in art school because he finds it interesting, rather than training for a career. He used to be a lawyer, so he might do something like that again. In any case, he’s got enough to live comfortably, and he’s paying for college all by himself without worrying about finances at all.”

“So, he’s rich? You little gold-digger.” He joked.

“Haha. You’re hilarious.” He said sarcastically. That remark was actually quite offensive, but since it was Neji, he brushed it off. “He used to have a great job that made a lot of money, but there was an important reason he had to quit. It’s not like he has all that anymore, just what he’d saved up.” He smiled. “And a pretty awesome car.”

“So you’re saying he’s responsible. I really might have to approve of him.” He opened the door as they headed into the building, and they stopped the slush off their shoes on the doormat. “And you’ll listen to me this time, yes? Cause you brushed me off repeatedly when I tried to tell you that Kimmimaro was stalking you.”

“Sorry. I’m not very good at trusting people, and in my defense, you didn’t have much proof. Still, I’m sorry. I should’ve been a better friend.” More like he always trusted the wrong people.

“Never mind.” He wasn’t trying to make his friend feel bad, so he moved to a more pertinent topic. “So what was the reading about?

“Dammit! I was going to finish it on the bus.” He looked at his friend hopefully. “Any chance you read it on the plane?”

“Hah. While sitting between Suki and Toph? No. You’re out of luck.” As the oldest and most rational Hyuuga child, he had to sit between his two sisters on the plane and act as a mediator between their every dispute. It almost had him considering a career as a hostage negotiator. “I can at least get out of the quiz because I wasn’t here for legitimate reasons.”

The classroom was in sight, and they joined the other students trudging in, taking off scarves, gloves, and coats. “Ugh. I can already hear the storm that heralds great suffering.”

“We might not have a quiz today, right?” The attempt at comfort was weak, because they both knew that the professor gave quizzes based solely on their reading assignments and there was a quiz scheduled for every class day.

“Are you kidding? I am rarely that lucky.”

* * *

The morning sun once more forced itself through the blinds of Sasuke’s window, though the slamming of the front door was what dragged him back to the waking world. A glance at the clock told him Naruto was running late, and mused that it was probably because his car wasn’t fixed yet; Gaara typically lived outside of the socially accepted timetable, so it only made sense that Gaara was running late (by *society’s* terms, the redhead usually added) and, by extension, Naruto.

He wasn’t in the mood for morning, but as soon as he realized that today he would get to see Itachi again he couldn’t help grinning. A few moments later he realized that he was too awake to go back to sleep, so he figured he could at least get his homework done. That way if they hung out afterwards, he wouldn’t have to worry about completing his assignments.

He read for a long while, taking careful notes—his physics teacher, Dr. Cooper^, always asked very specific questions so details were extremely important. Sitting around the apartment wasn’t very exciting, and he figured he could read just as well at work; plus, if he was there earlier, than there was a chance that he could hang out with Itachi earlier, too. Those thoughts in mind, he ate and got ready, checking the bus schedule online. It only drove by his stop about every hour, so he would have plenty of time to finish his readings before class even started. Estimating how long the reading would take, he stowed an extra book in his bag in case he finished his homework. As he left, he carefully locked the door and turned the knob to make sure it was locked properly. Cell phone in his pocket and bus card easily accessible, he began his trek to the bus stop, enjoying the sight of the light dusting of snow that had fallen last night.

The weather had gotten colder, and would probably continue its descent, Sasuke thought as he tugged his gloves on. The buses may be heated, but the bus stops sure aren’t. As long as the bus isn’t running late, then frostbite won’t be a problem.

Fortunately, a few minutes after he arrived at the stop, the bus did as well, right on time, and as he boarded and flashed his bus pass the driver, a blonde man who’s name tag simply read “Wash,” they exchanged smiles as usual. He sat down in his regular spot, avoiding eye contact with the few people on the bus. They left the stop and pulled onto the main road and the bus jerked its occupants back and forth until the driver steadied the elephantine vehicle. “Sorry, guys,” he commented into the speakers. “Looks like the sun hasn’t melted all the ice yet. You might want to hang onto the bars.”

Although this is ordinarily an alarming statement, Sasuke had this same bus driver for the past couple years and so relaxed in his seat, trying to decide if the comfort of leaning his head against the window could be worth the exposure to germs. The moment he decided against it, he felt the seat behind him shift as someone sat down.

There was no discernable reason to sit so close; at this time of day, there were only a some university students, the old lady who rode the bus nonstop to take advantage of the free heat until her kids got out of school, and some older gentleman on their way to get their social security checks. He peeked into the reflection, angling himself to see behind him, trying to determine what this person looked like. But all the straining in the world proved useless, because the person sitting behind Sasuke was bundled up to extreme lengths, though the temperature was above freezing today and the wind wasn’t a factor on the bus. A hood hung over his face, keeping him in shadow, but his scarf wrapped around his mouth and ended just below his eyes.

Alongside Sasuke’s customary tingles of fear—because there is certainly enough space on the bus that sitting so close is suspicious, and who the hell goes that far to keep out the cold?—he felt the threads of frustration winding themselves together. He could literally feel the person staring! Every breath was now supervised by some nameless stranger who had no business being near him. And even if the man wasn’t intentionally staring at him, why did he have to sit so close? Sasuke couldn’t write this off as part of his own paranoia, because the elderly woman was sneaking glances at the stranger, too. Apparently, her book was just for show, since she spent more time looking at other people than looking at the pages.

In a moment of brilliance, he pulled out his phone with the pretense of checking his text messages and using the reflective surface to see directly behind him. He adjusted his hand, vaguely remembering to appear casual, and nearly kicked the seat in front of him out of frustration. The man had his face covered, ninja-style, except for his eyes, which Sasuke had been hoping would give him a clue about what this man’s deal was.

But they were covered by sunglasses! Of all the things to be defeated by… Sasuke sighed. The day was not bright enough to warrant sunglasses, especially indoors, but maybe he was sensitive to light? Then again, knowing what the man looked like or even whom he was wouldn’t make him less creepy or solve the problem that he was too close. He cut off his reasoning, consoling himself that they were almost at the university.

At the next stop, Sasuke made a point of moving to a different seat. He nodded to the elderly woman, and she smiled back before pretending to read her book again. The familiar jolt of the bus reentering the roadway was supplemented by the creak and shift of someone sitting in the seat behind him.

The temptation to jump up, turn around, and shout at the man gained strength. Yet the tingles of fear rallied together, cutting through the poorly constructed rope his frustration had been weaving. With his annoyance gone, panic threatened to take over. This wasn’t an area where people were commonly stabbed or mugged, and he’d be protected by all the padding from his coat anyhow. Another unfortunate possibility was a stalker—the man had gotten on at a stop before him. However, supposing he was being followed, it was to his job—where there were quite a few capable and intimidating men to call upon for help.

He encouraged that line of thought, determined to conquer the panic that rose and gathered strength like an oncoming wave. He stared out the window, purposely focusing on the scenes rushing past and ignoring the half-reflections of the bus’s occupants.

First thing he did when he got off the bus, he resolved, would be to find his boyfriend and kiss him. That should get enough endorphins going to forget all about creepy strangers. Then he would have a talk with Kiba, because if Kiba stopped slacking off at work then Naruto wouldn’t feel bad about quitting his second job, and Sasuke could have his three favorite people close to him, once he asked Neji to come over this weekend. And then Hyuuga would meet Itachi and all his reservations would disappear like an icicle in the sun.

Maybe after class today, he would probe into what was going on between Itachi and Orochimaru. There must be something serious; neither seemed the type to judge people without reason, and the latter definitely seemed familiar with the secrets of the Uchiha family. Perhaps they were childhood friends, or rivals?

His mind wandered further in that direction, until he noticed something unusual outside. At every street sign there appeared to be someone wearing a blue coat. It was a navy blue; plenty of people had coats like that, but the odds seemed pretty low that there’d be a jacket like that so regularly. A few more streets passed, and suddenly he realized it was the *same person* at every street sign. The dark stain in the middle of this person’s back was the same pattern, over and over.

Chills shot down his spine, and simultaneously he broke out in goose bumps and started sweating. Now that he was paying attention, whoever it was had orange hair. Like a flipbook, the person slowly turned, each movement punctuated by the buildings between.

But it was unnecessary. Sasuke knew who it was.

The small part of his brain that valiantly tried to remain logical asserted weakly that it was impossible for Juugo to be there, because the man was in jail. Besides that, how could he—rather, any human—appear at every street corner? Physical impossibilities aside, it didn’t make sense.

But the panic was drowning out all reason, prompted further by every turn of that orange head. The movements were staggered, but more pronounced as the bus slowed down. His senses told him that he was beginning to shake, but the bus jerked to a stop and without looking or caring where he was, Sasuke ran off the bus.

He checked over his shoulder, watching the bus pull away anxiously and wildly looking around. There was no sign of anybody near any street corner within Sasuke’s range; hardly anybody was on the streets at all in this weather. He breathed deeply and slowly, trying to calm his heart rate and process at the same time. He’d stayed relatively calm until now, but suppression only made that eventual release that much worse.

First, and most importantly, why did he see Juugo? No, the fact that he was having these hallucinations was the bigger issue here. Though why Juugo? Then again, he was the most recent, left the worst scarring, and was the most dangerous, if jailed status was anything to go by. Just thinking about it pulled all his chest muscles together, like a threatening implosion, and he could feel himself shaking from a cold taking hold deep inside.

The best solution for right now was to go inside and recover in the bathroom, before he had a meltdown in public—people, though well-meaning, would try to get involved but that would only make him feel worse. Nausea rose sharply at the thought, and he shivered, his hand reaching across his abdomen as if that mere touch could quell the sudden impulse to vomit.

Itachi approached him quickly as he was turning around, so Sasuke wasn’t as startled as he would have been had he turned a moment later. “Are you alright?” asked Itachi, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Concern was all over his face, indicating that he had witnessed his dash from the bus to the front of the building. Hardly aware of his movements, Sasuke grabbed onto his arm desperately with both hands. “Again, I saw him… I thought he was there.” And he crumpled into Itachi’s ready arms, hiding his face, gasping for breath. “I just don’t understand it.” He mumbled.

Itachi couldn’t hear the muffled words, but he caught the tone. “It’s going to be ok,” he said, drawing the other man closer, as he tried to make a decision. Taking him inside the building would be warmest and easiest, but they would surely draw unnecessary attention; his car was parked not thirty feet from them, and would give them some privacy. A glance at his watch showed there was sufficient time before class started, so he guided the boy back to his car and helped him into the back seat. “Come here, you’re safe. Let’s get the heat going,” he said, keeping his voice low and soothing—the tone mattered more than the words, he knew, and detached Sasuke just long enough to reach to the front and start the car up, switching the knobs so that heat poured into the back. He pulled him in close again, for once ignoring the slight recoil from the touch; he made sure to keep a hand on his wrist, though, and monitored his pulse carefully. The younger man was still shaking a bit, but it was lessening little by little.

“Are you hurt?” A shake of the head. “Lightheaded? Dizzy? Nauseous?”

“A bit nauseous. It’s mostly gone,” answered Sasuke, whose nausea faded faster the longer he was held. “Thank you,” he mumbled so quietly that Itachi nearly missed the words.

Apparently young Uzumaki still was determined to keep his face out of view, probably ashamed to break down so openly. Gently, he stroked his hair. “Can you tell me what happened?” with his breathing under control again, he was aware of what he’d done—rushing recklessly off the bus, carelessly moving around a not-quite-familiar campus, and then practically melting in public at the first touch from a stable element. Wasn’t he supposed to have control over this by now?

Such a simple thing, and the episodes never lasted more than a few minutes, yet the panic washed him out every time. He felt drained, the kind of tired that left him feeling like part of his life force had been sucked away, but Itachi was warm and did not seem to be letting him go so he remained as he was, savoring the feeling of safety. The witness of one panic attack was a nightmare; the witness of a second one brought new meaning to the word shame. He owed the man an explanation, but he couldn’t find the guts to look him in the eye. His whole confidence, so newly built, was being washed away in the flood.

“The first time this happened, the day we met, I thought I saw the last one. The one who caused the… my scars. And then I was on the bus, and usually there aren’t any problems but this guy was sitting really close to me and it threw me off, cause he just had this... unsettling presence. So while I was looking out the window, I kept thinking I saw him. Juugo.” Involuntarily, he shuddered. “What’s *wrong* with me? I don’t understand why this keeps happening. I was getting better, wasn’t I? It’s just all in my head, isn’t it…?”

“You are better. There’s nothing wrong with you—it’s perfectly natural to have trouble. It’s part of being human. We’re told that, in this world, it’s survival of the fittest. But I don’t think that’s right. We’re people. We’re not animals. Shouldn’t it be okay to feel weak sometimes?”

He nodded, relaxing a bit more. “Even Neji noticed I’m different now. But… there just has to be an easier way to deal with this. I don’t want to fall apart all the time. I hate feeling like this. This weak, drained, stagnant feeling, like I’m trying to run underwater.” He paused, trying to get a handle on the anxiety and hurt that remembering Juugo caused. On his leg, where the man had left his mark, the skin prickled at the memory. With a shudder, Sasuke shoved it to the depths of his mind before the pain grew. “You know about medicine and stuff, right?” A reluctant nod from Itachi, not liking where this was going. “Aren’t there drugs that can make it go away? Some kind of pills for this kind of anxiety? Or is there a kind of antidepressant that could help?”

“It’s true that they do have medicine for the kind of problems you’re having. But it’s an unfortunate myth that pills will make everything better—you’ll still have to work really hard, every single day. On top of that, there will be a variety of side-effects, and even then it is rare that medicine will erase your anxiety completely.” Even further Sasuke seemed to wilt, and Itachi considered he could have said that better instead of making it sound so difficult. Soothingly, he rubbed the shorter man’s shoulder. “The pills won’t fight the current for you, they just make things a little more bearable. They ease your pain; they don’t erase it.

“Honestly, I think you’re better off without them. You might feel that it’s so strong that you have to give in, but the opposite is true: it’s because it feels so strong, that you shall fight the current and overcome it.” Sasuke couldn’t see it, but Itachi was smiling at him in encouragement. “I’ll be here, with you, no matter what. I don’t know if you can see it, but I can: You are strong enough.”

“And how do you come to that conclusion?” The flames of anger and frustration sparked, and he didn’t even consider holding them back. He held Itachi back at arms’ length. “Just what the hell makes you think I’m strong? Are you joking? It’s not funny at all. These past months I’ve spent in a hellish nightmare, and the time before that with Kimmimaro and the time before that Kabuto! And then there’s all the pain I’m sure I’ve caused Naruto, who’s been there all along and taking care of me even though he has more than enough to worry about on his own and he’s always tired because he has to work so hard and I can’t even help him because I’m pathetic! This is the only job I’ve been able to handle for over a year now, and I keep messing it up! Exactly which part of me fainting means I’m strong? How the hell does having a panic attack because I think I’m seeing my psycho ex-boyfriend mean that I’m better off without drugs?”

Giving him a moment to calm himself, Itachi softly rubbed at the hand pushing against his chest. “The very fact that you can react like that shows you’re stronger than you seem. If you were as ‘pathetic’ and ‘weak’ as you think you are, you would never have tried to get a job. If you really were weak you never would have survived the orphanage—”

“—the Home.” The words were quietly defensive.

“What?”

“It’s called the Home. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. We heard of worse places just a few towns over. When people say ‘orphanage’ everybody gets these horrible images of poverty and cruelty in their heads, or they think we scrub the floors and sing like Annie. Living there wasn’t awesome, but we were taken care of.”

“Right. Sorry.” He shook his head, brushing aside his misassumption, and ignored the hair that slipped from his low ponytail. “I didn’t know. I just meant that of the people I’ve known, they would never be able to handle growing up outside their cushy homes or facing any sort of hardships, and the worst thing that ever happens to them is being cut off from their hundred-dollar allowance.” And Sasuke allowed himself to be held close again. “I just want you to know how amazing you are.” Seemingly unable to help himself, he kissed the boy’s forehead where it was closest to him. “You survive and you overcome and you’re strong. They say nobody’s perfect, but you’re fuckin’ perfect to me.”

That was quite a bit to process, and Sasuke took a few minutes to dissect the arguments, taking comfort in the warm embrace, leaning his head against Itachi's shoulder and . When he thought about it, he knew it was true that the only medicine powerful enough to take all his hurt away would probably kill him or render him catatonic. And considering the often unpredictable nature of side effects, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to add to his problems. Surely, there is medicine out there that he could become accustomed to, but that conflicted with the driving force of Itachi's claim.

Fighting.

A few weeks ago, the thought wouldn’t have even brought an amused chuckle out of him it was so beyond his reach. But with Itachi by his side, supporting him, maybe he could be strong. This type of thinking was so foreign to him, yet it resonated with the things Naruto said the other day—none of this was his fault and he could step forward.

Yes. Maybe fighting was an option. He could fight the current, not let the panic drag him away. Anybody could rely on pills, and surely, some people absolutely had to; but if he was as strong as Itachi believed he was, then maybe… people had survived for thousands of years already without reliance on drugs, after all. And he personally had lived through abuse; physical scars and emotional blows, but maybe he needed to look at that as not a reason to give in, but a reason to fight the effects—because he’d survived worse.

Still, he wanted to think it over a bit more, and Itachi understood. “We can talk about it more later, if you like.” He’d pulled off the other man’s gloves as the car’s temperature became too warm for comfort, and the scarf was removed the better to see his face, watching his conflicted expression until it settled. Sasuke started to apologize, but he cut him off with an insistent kiss. He pulled back after only a moment. “Anytime you feel like you can’t fight it, just think of me.” He kissed him again, finding it harder to pull away when the other man started kissing back.

Through the surprise Sasuke felt genuine delight at the show of affection—despite how messed up he was, despite the scars, despite how much trouble he caused—Itachi still wanted him, and as the pressure on his lips increased he abandoned all his worry and kissed back. The gloveless hands rose slowly to the older man’s face and rest lightly on either side as Itachi slipped his right hand round the back of his neck and his left fell to his hip. He retreated again to give his younger boyfriend a chance to breathe. “Even if I’m not physically with you, just remember this.”

Although he wanted this enjoyable activity to continue, the beep of his phone alarm reminded him they were going to be late for class. He was about to say as much when Sasuke started initiated a kiss of his own, landing a little to the side of his mouth but he soon matched their lips and boldly flicked out his tongue for a taste. A sound between a squeak and a moan answered the motion, and he did it again, swiping the length of Sasuke’s mouth, which opened a little. Suddenly the car seemed much too hot, and the world outside seemed to fade, time had no effect on them at all; they would have kept on, but a shriek outside caught their attention.

They both turned to look out the front windshield, and saw that a girl had fallen on the ice. Not far behind her was Kiba, shunning any attempt to withhold his laughter. She glared at him, though she accepted his help and stood shakily. “Damn! You’re lucky you were holding my coffee.”

“No, I think you mean your pants are lucky. The stains probably wouldn’t come out until the Zombie Apocalypse.” He replied, smothering his giggles beneath her sharp glower.

With a sigh, Itachi released Sasuke from his hold and helped him put his gloves and scarf back on. “Are you ready? We should head in, if you’re feeling better.”

“Yes. Much.” He blushed. It was highly unlikely that he would cave into his anxieties if he had memories like this one to call upon. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” There was a smirk to the older man’s expression that looked particularly good on him. They climbed out of the car, and since Kiba didn’t notice them until he heard the shutting of the doors, he didn’t see that they’d climbed out of the backseat, which Sasuke was thankful for because he was sure that Kiba would make inappropriate jokes. His face was still pretty red, but the wind was turning everybody’s cheeks red so nobody should think it was because they were making out in the back of Itachi's car.

“Hey! How are you?” Kiba called as he sipped his coffee. Sakura reclaimed hers, walking a little unsteadily.

“Just fine, thanks. Bit chilly, isn’t it?” Kiba nodded vigorously, and Sakura gave a grunt of agreement, trying to glare at Kiba while still looking sweetly at Sasuke, though she rather pointedly ignored Itachi altogether. Sasuke hadn’t as of yet spoken to Sakura, though he had to ask. “Are you alright? We saw you slip.”

“Thanks, but I think it’ll be fine. I bet *you* didn’t laugh.” She glared at Kiba again, but he only smiled.

“When I see something funny, I laugh. It’s not like you’re hurt or anything.”

“My foot actually does hurt, you dumbass, thanks for asking.” She gave him a punch on the shoulder, and Kiba winced though he never stopped smiling.

“If you want, I could take a look at it. I’ve had some medical training.” Rather than look relieved at Itachi's offer, the pink-haired woman seemed a bit alarmed and took a step back. The movement, however, drew attention to the fact that it hurt more than she’d like to admit.

“Um, no, that’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that much, I’m just trying to make him feel bad for not helping sooner.” She looked annoyed at Uchiha, which made sense knowing that he’d rejected her; but another step towards the building showed that she was in more pain than she was annoyed.

“Come on, just let him check it. If you don’t fix a problem when it comes up, it only gets worse later.” Kiba urged. Clearly, he’d gotten over his discomfort around Itachi, and seemed to enjoy his friend’s trepidation.

“Alright then.” She sat on a bench, and Itachi sat beside her, taking hold of the hurt foot. “It hurts a bit around the ankle. I sprained it a couple years ago during softball, but it doesn’t feel as bad as it did then.”

He felt around the area for a moment, lifting her pant leg and adjusting her sock to check for bruising and swelling. “No, you’ll be fine. It might be a bit sore, though, so I would suggest wearing sturdier shoes.” She nodded reluctantly, apparently only grudgingly accepting his aid. The heel of her shoe was slight, but in the winter weather she should really know better. “Thank you,” said Sakura reluctantly, though she meant it.

“Not a problem.” He smiled a little, but even that bit had her disregarding the remnants of her resentment. She didn’t seem so cautious around him now, either, readily accepting his hand as she stood once more. “Class will start soon. Shall we go in?”

They headed inside, Sasuke instinctually sticking close to Itachi. Class passed as usual for the most part, with the class conversing and listening to the soft music—perhaps Chopin this time, Naruto had played something like whatever they were listening to, but Sasuke didn’t often remember who composed what—while their professor alternated between supervising them and reading, perched in his usual spot at the window.

Although noisy, the sounds were peaceful; that is, until there were a couple minor explosions from another side of the building. Sasuke jumped out of his chair, though the only other people to acknowledge the sound and slight shaking of the walls just rolled their eyes. Kakashi exited the room, grumbling all the way. Young Uzumaki sat back down, bemused and scratching his head a bit, as he tried to sit exactly as he had been before. “Did something just explode?”

“Probably.” The students carried on, as if they were merely confirming that snow was indeed white.

“…Shouldn’t we be worried?” One of the students, that blonde girl, shook her head and called for him to shift his leg to the left a bit. He obeyed, but he couldn’t really help moving again a moment later—another “boom!” had sounded distantly and it startled him. “… or perhaps evacuating?”

“Oh no, that’s just the pottery class. Deidara-sensei is reckless.” While less than reassuring, Itachi's statement was met with nods of agreement. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, our professor is only checking in to make sure that none of the students got hurt. The university even put the pottery classes all in a separate building, so there shouldn’t be any damage here.”

“But what about the students in his class? He’s endangering their lives! I’ve got a friend in that class!” Ino whipped out her phone and texted her friend quickly, disregarding the damage her phone was taking from coming into contact with her artistic medium.

“He isn’t that bad. No one’s gotten hurt in the past two years I’ve been here, and he’s actually a great teacher.” Kiba paused. “Aside from the mild terror of being near him when he’s inspired, anyway.”

“I heard the only reason he hasn’t gotten sacked is because he’s the cousin of the dean.”

“No, it’s because he’s best friends with the dean. They used to go to college here together.”

“Yeah, and then Deidara-sensei almost blew him up. They’re only still alive cause their RA had a special fire safety system installed into their room.”

“How did he make something explode in the dorm? Did he smuggle a kiln in or something? We aren’t allowed to have personal ones in the dorms.”

“Maybe he’s the reason why personal kilns banned.”

“Oh come on, kilns don’t explode on their own.”

“I’ve heard that he makes everything he can blow up. I took his class last year, and he told us that this building was boring and blank until he used explosives to make paint bombs to decorate the outside. The administrators didn’t like it, but they needed to cover it up so they’ve since let students paint on it when we graduate.”

“Why didn’t he just use paint balloons, and throw them at the building? He didn’t need to use grenades. What’s the point?”

“Because art is a BLAST!” Following their reentering professor, who was rubbing the side of his head to ward off the oncoming headache, was the explosively energetic professor who specialized in pottery (and its combustion), Deidara. The blonde was chuckling and grinning at the class, apparently too sanguine about his latest achievement to be bothered with his slightly charred clothing or singed ends of his hair. “And what do you mean, point? All art is quite useless—if it was made to be useful, then it is not meant to be admired and therefore, not art.” Every sentence was accompanied by a grand hand gesture or dramatic pose. “Art for art’s sake, young grasshoppers!”

Sasuke itched to move and get a better look at the newcomer—or possibly run, if the man had for some reason brought a detonator with him, but other than a few students walking over to talk to him, most kept at their work. Young Uzumaki never would have guessed that art students would be so serious and focused. In response to the questions posed by the students around him, Deidara explained that his experimental art pieces were not going as well as he planned, and one of his freshman girls had fainted. “I told them in the beginning of the semester to drop the class if they were startled easily, and I gave enough warning.”

“You probably just said ‘hey guess what?’ before you pressed the button.” Kakashi said accusingly. He was going to make one of his other colleagues check next time; this was his third turn this semester and the blonde drove him crazy. Way too excited about every little thing.

“Hmph. Whatever. I’ve been pretty good recently, y’ know. Least I haven’t gotten Sasori to make another puppet of you, hmm?” Deidara ignored the annoyed glare that his comments earned. The students that were standing by to talk with him exchanged looks, contemplating running away if Deidara-sensei was going to annoy their current teacher. Kakashi-sensei was quite-laid back, but with Deidara pressing all his buttons, he could become peeved rather quickly.

‘At least the Kakashi-puppet, as creepy as it had been, never exploded in anyone’s face’, thought Kakashi. He kept that thought to himself, lest he give his fellow professor any ideas.

The blonde plowed right on through his silence. “Anyway, I dismissed my class early since they were a bit shaky and they weren’t getting anything else done,” he answered one of the students who had asked where Deidara-sensei’s class was.

“That’s a great idea.” Their eye-patched professor interjected. He knew an escape route when he saw one. “Everybody should go home. You’re dismissed now. *Everyone*.” He pointed to the door, giving Deidara-sensei a pointed look that was pointedly ignored. His arm dropped to his side again as he sighed, rubbing at his eye patch a bit. “Let’s pretend it’s cause the weather sucks, and not because my colleague drives me crazy.” Amid giggles, the class happily packed up and Deidara-sensei grumbled, “If you dislike me that much, stop running into my classroom to check on me.”

“I don’t care about you. The dean only instructed me to check if you’ve injured your students.” To which the blonde argued that Kakashi had seemed genuinely worried when he saw the blonde covered in ash and coughing smoke, and in reaction to that Kakashi appeared to be restraining himself from punching his co-educator. The argument probably continued, but their students couldn’t care less—college kids know to treasure the times when class is let out early.

* * *

Once they’d gotten back to the Uzumaki residence, they settled down on the couch sipping their hot drinks they’d gotten on the way home. With their wet winter coats off they felt warmer already, and the tea was such a sudden change from the icy air filling his lungs before that with every sip Sasuke felt the heat run down his chest, almost as if he were spilling it.

“So… what do you want to do?”

“Well, you. But that would be moving a bit fast, wouldn’t it?” He laughed at the stuttering reply he received. “I’m joking. I do have standards, you know. I’d like to know you better first—it’ll make knowing you that way so much better.” Again his deep laugh sounded at the way Sasuke’s face flamed red. “When you react like that, I can hardly help teasing you.”

“Then I might have to start teasing you back, won’t I? Though teasing isn’t nearly as fun...” Carefully placing his cup on the coffee table, he leaned over the now startled Itachi and made sure to brush his hand across leg oh-so-slowly, watching a hint of arousal light up his boyfriend’s eyes, “as other things… like watching TV!” With a bit of a smirk he grabbed the TV remote laying just next to Itachi's leg, and resumed his previous position. Cup in hand, he calmly asked, “what would you like to watch?” while turning on the TV and changing the channel to something that was interesting enough to watch but functioned more as just something to be there.

“You are far more devious than I give you credit for. I keep telling you I have trouble holding myself back around you.” A pause. “Or perhaps you don’t want me to? Should I stop holding myself back?” Now he was the one leaning over his smaller boyfriend, a smidge of a smirk beginning.

Sasuke wanted this. He wanted to feel that hot mouth on his again, and in this relaxed environment he’d be able to enjoy it more. But part of him, the quieter but more resilient part made him feel he was moving much too fast. With Kabuto, they had gone slowly because he was Sasuke’s first; Kimmimaro and Juugo had gone slow because he had told them that he was having a hard time, and in response, they had given him time and constantly checked that he was ready before proceeding. Though given the outcome of all three relationships, those men apparently had not been giving him a chance but rather biding their time until they were ready to show what they were really like.

Slowly—not cautiously, but calmly and with purpose, Itachi leaned in a bit closer, taking his time because he wanted to enjoy every moment with Sasuke. Yet a moment flashed through Sasuke’s mind—Kabuto, with a devious smirk, pushing him roughly down on the couch and swiftly elbowing him in the gut to remind him of the importance of not joking about his glasses—and involuntarily, he flinched. Despite his hopes that Itachi wouldn’t notice, the concerned expression confirmed it. Although he was hesitant to take any action that would hurt his younger boyfriend, he didn’t back away from Sasuke, instead shifting his weight so that he was leaning against his side and no longer over him.

Though hardly able to explain why, he felt glad that Itachi was increasing the touch. Perhaps because it was the opposite of what Kimmimaro would have done, or because Itachi's show of patience didn’t mean that he wanted Sasuke any less.

“I’m sor—” a hand clamping over his mouth stopped his words.

“I can’t allow unnecessary apologies. Whether you flinched because you didn’t want me to kiss you or because you couldn’t help remembering something, either way, there’s no reason for you to apologize.”

He nodded, and accepting this, and pulled the hand away from his mouth. “Alright. But I think… I think that I need to tell you a bit, just so that you know. Because I want you. I don’t want you to feel like you need to be overly cautious, so I guess if I can at least give you an idea of what I can’t handle, we’ll be able to move forward.”

“Are you sure? I told you before, I won’t make you talk about anything from your past if you don’t want to;” he received a firm nod for an answer, and the older man slipped his hand around his boyfriend’s in reassurance. “Then I’d like that. Soon, we’ll overwrite all those memories of hurt and pain. We’ll wipe them out of existence and replace them with new memories, ones without pain or fear. Regardless of any scars—emotional or physical—I still want you. Nothing can change that.”

Busy gathering his thoughts into a more structured narrative, he merely nodded, though he knew later when he was trying to sleep he’d replay those words in his head until he fell asleep. “So, um, I guess it started with Kabuto. I was still in high school, but I was almost out so I didn’t think it was a big deal that he was in college. Naruto was absolutely against it because Kabuto freaked him out, but none of my work friends—that was where I knew him from, we both were doing part-time at a convenience store—anyway, nobody else seemed to have a problem with him. He’d always been rough, but I thought that was just his personality, or because guys were supposed to be rough like that with each other. I couldn’t move in with him officially, because of the rules of the Home, but I spent as much time as possible with him, hanging out after school and… sleeping… there over the weekends.

“But Naruto and my best friend started asking about the bruises, and I brushed it off as roughhousing until he came in one day, in a bad mood for whatever reason, and started beating me pretty hard. After a bit he thanked me for the stress relief and stormed out. I ran to Naruto’s, cause he’d just moved into an apartment and I knew how to get there, and well… from there, you know how that ended. He beat the shit out of Kabuto, and last we heard of him he’s living in his parents’ basement, unemployable because of his temper and lonely because Naruto made sure everyone knows his reputation.

“That lasted about five months, but Kimmimaro I was with for over a year. Well, he thought we were together for much longer than that. After getting away from Kabuto, I’d graduated and was working to save up money for school, though I’d switched jobs and worked at my college’s bookstore. And since we were finally able to work it out, Naruto had officially and legally and all that jazz adopted me, so I was living at his apartment. It was nice, having only one other person to worry about, but he just overflows with energy and enthusiasm—hard to keep up with constantly.

“Then... well, you know how after a while of going to the same places, everyone starts to look familiar, even though you don’t know them by name? Except this one guy, he had pale hair like Kabuto, but his expressions seemed more genuine. ‘Course, he genuinely liked me, but I didn’t know he’d been stalking me since my time at the convenience store. I thought he just was a busy guy who just happened to show up wherever I was; worst I figured he was trying to get a chance to talk to me.

“And he was nice; eased me into touching again, and never made a fuss when I asked to wait for more intimate stuff. Physically, he wasn’t very strong, and he was gentle with his every movement, so I felt safe and happy and did whatever he asked. I never really questioned that he didn’t like hanging out with my friends, or that after the initial meeting he said he’d rather I wasn’t with them so much—especially when he said it was because he wanted to keep me all to himself. We were together more often than not, so before long I’d moved into his house—already I could appreciate that he was more responsible than Kabuto. Not that living with your parents is necessarily bad; Neji’s family is traditional and they like to have everybody at home until they get married or need to move for their careers, and for some it just makes more financial sense to live with their parents. But Kabuto had never matured, so it was different—and Kimmimaro was older than him, though I never really knew by how much.

“There was a lot that I didn’t ever learn about him, because when we were together he just kept telling me how much he liked me, and we’d go shopping and he’d pick out expensive clothes and insist on dressing me almost every day. When we went out to eat, he chose what I ate—at first I let him, since he was paying for it anyway—but after a while it was just easier to go along with what he wanted than to argue, especially about things that seemed so silly. After all, what did it matter if he wanted my hair kept really short? The arguments, well, his fits, were the worst part. He never threw a punch, but he was a master of manipulation. No matter what it was, he knew how to get it.

“One of the rare days when he was out, Naruto convinced me to visit with him for a bit. He’d just taken the job at Panera, saying he needed extra cash, so I met him there on his lunch break.” A vague smile broke through. “He knows me too well. As soon as I sat down, he bombarded me with questions in the typical straightforward Naruto way, like ‘why don’t I ever see you anymore?’ and ‘where’d you get all these fancy clothes? And that watch?’ and ‘why did you quit your job? Why don’t you answer your cell anymore? How is he treating you? Have you visited Neji lately? What about the kids at the Home? They miss you; you’re like an older brother to them and they need any consistency they can get. And why’d you order that? You don’t even like potatoes.’ It was almost like he knew that he didn’t have much time, the way he spoke.

“Time was up, though, because they’d called my name for me to go get my food and waiting at the counter for me was Kimmimaro. He didn’t look any different from usual; after about a year of training, all he had to do was say ‘let’s go’ to me and I left. I waved to Naruto, but I left my food, my adoptive dad, even the brand new jacket Kimmimaro had bought the day before and my cell phone at the table—I turned and left without question, because I didn’t couldn’t say ‘no.’ Kimmimaro wasn’t angry. All he said was that he was disappointed that he wasn’t enough for me, disappointed that I had to go looking for the company of other people. I was recaptured then; the brief reminder of who I’d been before had was left back in the restaurant with Naruto.

“A week or two later, watching some of the few TV shows that met Kimmi’s qualifications while working on an important paper due in a few hours, he just decided that we were going to go to the store together right then, and something clicked in my brain. Maybe if I wasn’t stressed from school, or tired from his demands that we stay up late watching movies every night, or if I hadn’t been thinking about what Naruto had said—whatever it was, I just realized that I wanted to say no. Without thinking, I said it. The argument that followed was nasty, and somewhere within it, he revealed that back when I was still going out with Kabuto, he’d seen me at a coffee shop, revisited it until he knew my name and all my favorite drinks, and from there figured out where I worked and memorized my schedule. If I hadn’t been so caught up with what was going on with Kabuto at the time, I might have noticed he was stalking me sooner.

“But I guess that part of the story you sort of know—first chance I got, I went to Naruto, and he said he’d take care of it. Couple days later he comes home and tells me it’s all taken care of. Once he got the gist of the lesser points of the relationship, he stopped treating me like some kind of war victim and actually helped. Naruto had always been between best friend and mentor and guardian so our old friends at the Home knew I’d be ok since he’d be watching me closely and I’d be able to get personal attention. So I got used to being my own person again.

“See, this is where I took it too far. I was feeling lively and free—that kind of unexpected freedom, where you hadn’t realized you were being denied something until you were had it back—and not more than a month after leaving Kimmimaro one of the more obnoxious students in my class started paying attention to me. Kimmimaro had convinced me to skip class as much as possible, and when I did go he liked me to wear stuff that didn’t attract attention, but as I was getting back to myself and actually talking with my classmates again somehow Juugo noticed me. he was the third guy I was interested in, and I knew for sure the things I didn’t want him to be like—he looked nothing like the previous two, and he had inherited money from a relative (or so he told me), and though he was strong I never saw him use that strength for cruelty. I also knew where to draw lines, and made sure I told him no when I didn’t want to do something and that I would wait a long while if I did ever decide I wanted to live with him. Aside from his bragging and bombastic personality, plus a little air of insanity, he seemed a decent guy.

“The summary of my past relationship didn’t faze him; his answer to anything and everything was to throw money at it. Every night was a different party or restaurant, each day a new wardrobe of clothes to choose from, weekends were at the various vacation homes his family owned.

“I can’t lie: it was nice to be with the rich, handsome, popular guy for once. For the first time, I had nice things that I didn’t have to pay for and didn’t have to steal. It was really good, so that I didn’t really mind that I was practically his trophy wife. He paid for everything I said I liked, let me choose what I wanted, didn’t make demands that I go anywhere, and never had a problem when I decided I was ready to go home. His requests were few—that I maintain my grades because he hates dumb people, that I would ignore what people said about him because it was all lies, and that I would grow my hair long because it made me look hotter. I was doing those things anyway; grades actually matter in college, Kimmimaro had been so particular about my hair being super short that I’d been growing it long. Almost as long as yours,” and he ran his fingers through the ends of the hair hanging over Itachi's shoulder. “As for rumors? I ignore them anyway, considering the kinds of rumors children had spread about us kids at the Home during my elementary school years.

“So that was more or less enjoyable. After a while, though, I noticed he seemed unsettled a lot of the time, and for reasons I still don’t understand, he felt distant. When I asked him what was wrong, he played distraction and we ended up at a party or doing… other things.

“I fell asleep after some… stuff one night, and he goes out for a drink or something—he walks back into the bedroom, smelling like beer and something else (looking back, he had probably just gotten high while taking his ‘nightly walk’) and I thought he just wanted another round. I was tired and half-asleep so I didn’t really object when he started tying me up, cause he was doing such a crap job of it I could get out if I really wanted. Just… that was when he cut into me. The way he was sitting on me kept me from moving, and when I finally did get enough leverage to move it was all too easy, thanks to the alcohol and my limited defensive training, to knock him out.”

He laughed humorlessly. “It was more than instinct this time to run to Naruto’s. It was the routine, and when I walked in the door, with blood dripping down my leg, Naruto hardly looked surprised. He panicked, cause he hates to see the ones he cares about bleed even a drop—but he didn’t bother asking for the story. I refused the hospital, and that’s why the scars haven’t healed very well. But I don’t like strangers knowing personal things like that about me. I didn’t want to become some statistic, or be some nurse’s story to her family at night. Though mostly it has to do with it *not being other people’s business*, and keeping them from interfering with my life with Naruto. With the help of Neji’s dad, the chancellor of another college nearby, I switched schools and as long as I stick with Neji while I’m there, I don’t worry or feel anxious so badly during class.

“Which brings me back around to you. You’re talented at everything I’ve seen you do so far, but you don’t brag; you’ve got money, but you don’t flaunt it; you’ve been patient with me, but you’ve given me no reason to believe that you’re with me for any other reason than wanting me. And Naruto thinks you’re fantastic, which few people get such approval, and you… well, you’re completely different from everyone else I’ve known. I trust you completely.” Caught in the moment, he shifted halfway into Itachi's lap, legs thrown across his, and fiddled with his collar, undoing the top couple buttons so that the older man didn’t look so reserved. “So, I… I just…” one hand fell into place on his chest and the other behind his neck to tug him a bit closer.

Understanding perfectly, Itachi moved forward and sealed the kiss the younger man was aching for. It was so much hotter this time, the hot drinks having heated their mouths and a sort of involuntary groan escaped from one of them. The enjoyable activity continued for some time, but the sound of the key scraping in the lock cause Sasuke to jerk back and leap to his feet, face red.

The older man was still sitting as he had been when Sasuke was in his lap; surprise widening his eyes and hands reaching out to pull the boy back down. “What’s the matter?” The hand tenderly holding onto his wrist wasn’t harsh, but his expression had turned a bit stern.

“Not yet.” Sasuke said. They had mere moments, and Itachi looked a bit offended, like he wanted to argue the point. “Please. Just… a bit more time, and I won’t mind being open about this.” Itachi stood to look him in the eye very seriously. Somewhat miserably, for he really would rather Naruto knew how much he liked the other man already, he explained, “I told him we were going slow, but I don’t think he expects us to be this far yet at all, and I... I just don’t want him to worry.”

Naruto was walking in the entranceway, calling out greetings as he stripped off his layers until he was down to his shorts and t-shirt. “Man, I’m soaked through even to this! Tonight is definitely a stew night.”

Something subtle shifted in Uchiha’s expression; he definitely didn’t look offended anymore. There seemed to be a hint of respect and understanding, though a touch of bitterness could not be concealed. “I have homework to do.” He said abruptly. He moved to leave, making for the door and getting his winter gear back on. He smiled charmingly at Naruto. “Sorry to leave so soon, but I have homework to catch up on.”

“Sure you can’t stay? Well, alright. But you’re always welcome here, you know.” And the blonde dashed into his room to change into warmer clothes.

Sasuke stood at the door, tugging at the edge of his shirt. Had he been wrong? Should he have prioritized his boyfriend’s feelings over potentially upsetting his lifetime best friend and guardian? No, after all this time, Naruto had to come first.

The lines around his eyes softened. “I really do have homework, you know.”

How had he not noticed before how intricate the carpet pattern was? “Yeah.” He mumbled in return.

A sigh. “I’m not mad. At least, not at you. I guess I’m jealous that you don’t even have to think about putting family first. I wish…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. Don’t feel guilty, because the problem is with my stupid family. I shouldn’t let it get between us. That’s my biggest mistake—letting their choices break apart all my relationships.” Leaning over, he gave him a swift peck on the cheek, then left. “See you the day after tomorrow.”

Looking him in the eye, he repeated, “See you.”

As he started dinner, he reflected on the afternoon. A few things he knew: making out with his boyfriend was fun. His personality, his mannerisms, his everything was so different from his other boyfriends that he felt truly safe with Itachi. And the moment of bitterness—what a relief to know he wasn’t the cause. And although he said often enough that he more or less hated the people he’s related to, it seemed like Itachi had some sort of desire for reconciliation.

Going over the past… memories were still floating around in his head while he prepared the vegetables, but they were a bit more distant. It was sort of like viewing them in black and white instead of color. Naruto slipped in without him noticing, and, disappointed that he wouldn’t get to hang out with his ex-lawyer friend, stole a carrot from out of Sasuke’s grasp. “Watchya up to? Stew looks good. Good idea using the rest of the beef, too, before it goes bad.” Although he nodded and gave him a sort of smile, it was impossible to notice the solemn look stayed. “Thinking about serious things again?”

“No. Well, yes, but I don’t feel so… raw about it right now. It’s sort of… further away.” But that was enough about that. He didn’t want to talk about it more, because it might lead to what he and Itachi were up to and regardless of what Naruto said about wanting him to be happy, he didn’t want to bring it up unnecessarily. The blonde was chewing, so he didn’t say anything for a moment, yet as Sasuke looked at him, he realized how tired he looked. “It’s only Monday. Is it okay for you to have bags under your eyes already?”

Uncharacteristically, he scowled. “Never mind that. There’s still a lot of work to do, so the sooner we get dinner out of the way, the better.” That wasn’t something he needed to hear so early in the week either, but since the boy was worried about him in the cute old way like back in middle school, in reparation he left his pseudo-son to prepare dinner in peace as he tried out on the piano a bit of a new piece he’d found online.

“Are you keeping up with your homework?” The notes flowed nicely—aesthetically, they were pleasing on the page and even better to let loose from his fingertips into the piano and throughout the house. Not really paying attention to the details of what his best friend was saying, he noted the tone more than the words, and let him talk on. Most of his mind, though, was caught up in the nonsense of the day. There was just too much to do, and it was stressing him out. He hadn’t really planned on quitting his second job, but it seemed like there wouldn’t be much choice. Then again, he’d be able to support Sasuke and the occasional stray kid plus send some money to The Home every month if he took on more responsibility at school, maybe supervise a few clubs.

The blonde arrived at a complicated part of the piece, and since he was just playing around and not seriously practicing, he abandoned the piano and went to grab his bag to start grading papers, still listening to the train of Sasuke’s monologue, pleased to hear he and Neji were going to study together this weekend. He wholeheartedly approved of Sasuke’s new boyfriend, if only for the recent changes in his attitude and behavior. Whoever it was, he’d have to meet him soon. Sasuke had said that they’d met recently, so it wasn’t Neji, so possibly somebody in the art class? Certainly not Kiba. Naruto knew Sasuke was too calm to be around somebody like that maniac; and the man already had a boyfriend anyway from what he remembered. Couldn’t be Itachi, either, because the man was a couple years older and… well, it just seemed an awkward fit. Though he did like that the man was always hanging out here.

“I’m glad that Itachi has been watching out for you so much. He’s a good guy, so I knew he would. You’re even starting relax more around him, so he’s clearly a good influence. But don’t spend so much time socializing that you get behind in your homework.”

“I know.” He set the bowls on the counter, slipping spoons into the stew and walking around to sit at his bar stool. “Come on, it’s hot.” They ate in easy silence, both swiping more over the counter.

Naruto, after his fourth bowl, leaned against the back of his chair, rocking it a little bit. “You’ll fall,” Sasuke teased. He gave the chair a slight tilt, nearly causing the blonde to fall.

“Hah. You wish. You never could knock me over.”

“Well, you’ve always been bigger than me. I’m fighting against gravity and types and such, Naruto. And I did get the better of you in a few fights in high school.”

“Yeah, that was fair.” That sentence wore the cape of sarcasm. “You waited till you hit your growth spurt, ‘Suke, then tackled me when I stepped in the door after work. From inside this dark house. You were like a sneaky little ninja.”

“I am named after a ninja, you know. There was a real ninja named Sasuke, way back when. I wonder if that’s what they were thinking—whoever named me. Maybe they wanted me to be sneaky.”

The topic of who named them, why, and how the names were chosen was a conversation they’d had many times with little result, other than a few inside jokes and frustration. “They probably just wanted you to be strong. And thanks to me,” he grinned widely, pulled him in for an awkward hug that all but dragged him out of his chair, “you are strong. Though, we haven’t practiced any self-defense moves lately. We should review or something, like we used to do. I’d hate to think I paid all that money and you aren’t even using it.”

“I used it against Juugo,” he replied, a little melancholy. The blonde, although sensitive to the issue, had completely forgotten about that. He still wasn’t sure if he was supposed to apologize for bringing these things up, or comfort his friend, or ignore it, but he didn’t have to worry because Sasuke switched it on his own. “And I’ll use my crazy attacks on you, too, if you don’t agree to do the dishes.”

“Sorry, Sasuke.” The blonde poked his forehead. The boy crinkled his nose and frowned in childish distaste. “My kids aren’t learning the material, and these lesson plans won’t rewrite themselves. Do it for me, please?”

Although he gave a larger than necessary sigh, Sasuke relented and started cleaning up. Naruto may have denied the implication that he was overworking himself, but Sasuke had no intent to cause his best friend extra stress when he clearly needed all the breaks he could get.

The blonde worked steadily from the couch, occasionally muttering to himself. Every now and then, the brunette looked over fondly, and by the time he was done taking care of the dishes and wrapping up his homework from earlier, they were both ready for bed. They each carried a mug of hot tea into their respective bedrooms. Impulsively, Sasuke gave his guardian and best friend a half hug, feeling that he needed it because it would remind of the days when they were younger and Sasuke hadn’t known better than to hang onto him like a lifeline.

The bright smiled warmed his heart, and that night they both slid into contented, restful sleep.

* * *

After class on Wednesday, Sasuke unlocked the door to his house and Itachi closed the door as he entered after him. “I’ll make some hot chocolate.” Uzumaki offered as he hung up their coats in the front closet. The ride over had been pleasant, and as he was growing accustomed to his boyfriend’s consistent efforts to keep physical contact, he’d honestly liked having his hand held the whole drive. Itachi’s bright, almost playful mood was a happy result of Sasuke’s progress and that the younger man wanted him in the same way that he felt drawn towards the sweet man making hot chocolate for him in the kitchen.

“That sounds good.” Really, he’d drink whatever the boy made for him. How any person had ever thought of hurting him instead of doting on him and affectionately yielding to his every daydream was unfathomable. He’d sooner kill his own parents than break a bone in his Sasuke. However, those were unpleasant images and evil must be battled with pure goodness, so he queried, “Do you have any marshmallows? I like marshmallows.” With a smile, Sasuke nodded. Itachi sat down on the dark green couch, noticing the game system light blinking rhythmically at him. “What sort of videogames do you have?”

“Mostly they’re Naruto’s. We’ve got the basic stuff—some Mario games, Super Smash Brothers, Zelda, Resident Evil, Assassin’s Creed, Grand Theft Auto, Halo, Bioshock, Call of Duty, Ninja Gaiden, Goldeneye, Devil May Cry, a few Final Fantasy plus Kingdom Hearts, and then sports ones like basketball and football, both regular and American, along with DDR—though Naruto says that all videogames, played properly, require more than enough movement. But he jumps and moves when his character does. So that might just be him. Anyway, we have just regular games, I guess.” Until now, Sasuke hadn’t noticed just how many games Naruto considered standard to any gaming library.

“Hmm,” was the only noise from the couch.

“Do you… want to play?” He asked, unsure how to interpret the thoughtful noise.

“Actually… I don’t know how.” He seemed a bit embarrassed. “I’ve never played any videogames before.”

Surprise stopped all of Sasuke’s movements and he froze with the two mugs in his hands, halfway to the couch. “You’ve never played any videogames?” The simple entertainment had relieved many supervisors at The Home of the mighty task of keeping the children out of trouble, and as there were only so few children that could play at one time, videogames were elevated from a mere activity to a highly-prized privilege. Even watching others play had its appeal.

“Nearly all my time was devoted to school. My classmates were always older than me, and, well, for the most part they left me alone.” He frowned slightly. The other man looked over at the odd pause, but as Itachi continued, he figured it probably wasn’t important. “Anyway, Father never put any money towards entertainment or amusement unless it advanced his ambitions. My friends’ parents had a similar philosophy, and by the time I had my own money there were too many other things to worry about.”

“Oh.” That sounded a bit lonely, though it was good to know he hadn’t grown up completely alone. At least at the orphanage, everybody was alone together.

It was sort of like having a too many of siblings, all of which arrived at random, accompanied by a slew of issues each. Except some of those siblings disappeared with kind-looking strangers and were never seen again. But then Sasuke started hanging out with Neji in elementary, and by extension Naruto befriended him, too, and Mr. Hyuuga frequently donated generously to The Home. “There’s not a whole lot to it. I could teach you, if you want.”

Uchiha’s face lightened. “Sure.”

As he sat sipping his hot chocolate, Sasuke fiddled with the remote and turned on the systems. “What sort of thing do you want to try? Racing? Sports? Fighting?”

“Something simple.” He inspected the proffered controller carefully.

“Alright.” With a nod, Sasuke placed a straightforward combat game in the slot and started it up. He sat down on the couch, pointing to the important buttons. “This one here is to jump, this one blocks, press here to attack, oh and that one attacks, too. Don’t worry about the others just yet.”

Zipping through the credits, he picked his character and helped the other man choose one with high HP so that he’d have a better chance of survival. They battled for a bit, and though Sasuke tried to go easy on the novice, he had the clear advantage. “I’ve seen worse. At least you’re surviving past the first couple seconds.”

“I’m surviving, not thriving.” Itachi said as he lost again.

“You did better that time.” It was a poor consolation, but anything more would have been too much of a lie.

“Not by much.” He grumbled back. The fight started again, and Itachi tried a different strategy with little success. “Dammit!” Somehow, Sasuke had evaded his attack again. “Why do I keep mistaking logs for people?”

“It’s a classic rookie mistake.” He couldn’t help being a little smug. Neji refused to play with him after he realized he could no longer win, and Naruto had too much natural talent for his lack of practice time to make any difference in his playing ability.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You like beating me.” He elbowed his boyfriend softly, just enough for him to feel it, in an attempt to distract Sasuke enough to land a hit on his virtual character. It failed miserably, because that was a Naruto tactic that Sasuke was well guarded against. “Well, on the bright side, you can feel safe knowing I can’t ever hurt you. Not even in a game.” Without taking his eyes off the game, he snuck in a kiss on his cheek. Sasuke was so startled he nearly dropped his controller.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” That distraction cost him. He made up for it in the next round, though.

“You’re right, these games are fun.” Though he lost again, he was smiling and tried to steal another kiss. “How about you make my losses more acceptable?”

Well, that certainly wasn’t an invitation he was inclined to deny. “How about a kiss for each win?”

“Every win?” He shot him a sexy smirk. “Agreed.” Suddenly he was much more focused on the game, and it showed. Evading attacks, striking cautiously, even jumping offensives were now possible with the increase in motivation.

At long last, Sasuke won after his character summoned a giant skeleton. Itachi's head dipped in defeat. “Rematch?” He asked, and turned his head to his companion on the couch. To his surprise, Sasuke was leaning forward quickly. A gentle hand held Itachi's chin still as he kissed him firmly, blood rushing to his cheeks at the tender contact. It only lasted a moment, but it wakened in Itachi a heat that had lain dormant since they had to stop their activities the other day (not counting last night, alone in his shower, of course). He was actually fair speechless.

After a moment of blank staring, Sasuke felt compelled to say something. “What?” self-consciously he asked, willing away the pink tint on his cheeks. “I said a kiss for each win, and I won.”

“In that case, I owe you quite a few more.” All thoughts of playing left his mind, and with one hand, he placed the controller on the table while the other ran along the back of the couch slowly to grasp Sasuke’s shoulder. Softly, he asked, “How many times have you won so far?”

“Um, I—I’m not sure.” He stuttered; the moment he had Itachi's full attention and those bright black eyes practically pinning him in place, his heart picked up. Gradually he recognized the feeling growing inside was lust, and taking a moment to get over the surprise, it increased as he realized that his boyfriend had given him all the control over this advancement. Confidence surged back, matching his lust, and he went for it. “A lot.” He shifted closer to being their legs touching, absentmindedly setting his controller down. “So you should probably get started.”

Not wasting a moment, Itachi grabbed him and pulled the younger man onto his lap, bringing their mouths close with a short, contented sigh that blew pleasantly hot air over Sasuke’s lips before they finally touched together. With their tongues almost aggressively intertwining, it was hard to concentrate on anything else. He squirmed in an effort to get more comfortable, but as he was lying on top of an as-yet-unfamiliar body, his movements were greater than he intended and his arms raced over the man’s chest, seeking support to hold himself from crushing his boyfriend’s lungs. Without meaning to, his hips and legs repeatedly brushed against the man’s groin below him.

Before long, Itachi pulled him back from his mouth a few inches, regardless of the thin strand of saliva sticking to his chin, and held his hips steady. Sasuke froze at the sudden movement, only becoming aware of his accidental grinding at the touch of those warm hands heating his skin where they slipped between his undershirt and jeans. Slightly out of breath, Itachi panted, “Don’t do that if you don’t want to go all the way right here and now.”

Contrary to his words, his own hips tilted upwards into Sasuke’s now stationary groin, while his mouth took hold and ravaged Sasuke’s mouth again. As he pushed his groin against the younger man’s, he held him stationary by a hand on either hip and rubbed at the skin beneath his fingertips. Sasuke groaned slightly at the pressure against his groin—made worse by his tight jeans—and the caress. The other man moaned loudly when he aligned as best he could between the fabric their dicks. While Itachi was already there, Sasuke wasn’t hard and though he completely enjoyed what they were doing and he hadn’t jerked off in a while, he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get hard with only this.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t pleasure his boyfriend or derive a secondhand pleasure from doing it. Sliding his arms beneath Itachi's shoulders, he tugged on one and pushed on the other and Itachi, picking up on his intent, helping flip them over, not losing his mouth for a moment. Settling much more comfortably into the squishy couch under his boyfriend, where he felt protected by the heat radiating from the man and the limbs and torso covering his, he maneuvered his hand quickly down to grip him through his pants. He stilled absolutely for the briefest moment before renewing the kiss with greater passion. Sasuke squeezed it a few times, then ran his hand inside his shirt and stroked the skin of his abdomen until he no longer felt such a contrast between the temperature of his hand and the man above him. Skillfully the button was undone and the zipper pulled down, and with a few more quick movements he was holding his boyfriends manhood in his hand.

Until now he had been moaning heavily in between kisses, using one arm to stabilize himself and the other to play with the fringe at the younger man’s neck, but the direct contact with his manhood tore a moan from his mouth and he bucked involuntarily into the hold. “Easy there. Hang on a moment,” he tried to sound confident but he was a touch nervous moving this quickly and anyway the kisses were too hot for him to calm down enough to waste effort on appearances. Sasuke released his hold and stuck a hand under the couch, searching, then diving between the cushions. “Here it is.” Finally the lotion bottle was in his hand and he poured a bit out, rubbing his palms together to give it some heat. Slicker and steadier, he returned his hand to Itachi's dick and stroked it, drawing out a throaty moan.

“Ahhh... damn.” Too out of breath to continue the onslaught of kisses, Itachi settled for giving the odd lick to Sasuke’s neck, the only skin his mouth could reach as he leaned his weight into back of the couch along his side and the other hand stayed on Sasuke’s hip, massaging with his fingertips the bit of flesh peeking out. The older man’s eyes glanced down at his boyfriend’s hands moving over his flesh, and the very sight made him shudder. “So hot.”

Faster and faster his hand moved, slickly over his flesh, until he couldn’t take it anymore and came with a grunt. “Sorry… you’re going to need to go change your shirt now, huh?”

“It can wait. I’m quite comfortable. Can we stay like this for a bit?”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Do you need me to… take care of you?”

“What? No, no I’m fine.” The response was a vaguely offended look. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t want it, you know? Just, well, my sex drive’s been pretty much dead until I met you. I’d rather go slowly for a bit.”

He nodded. “I can live with that.”

They straightened again, and Itachi started pulling off Sasuke’s shirt. “Hey!”

“You’re going to want to put this in the wash soon. And speaking of soon, I should leave.”

“Already?” he asked, unaware of how childlike the word had come out.

“Yeah. Remember when you told me in the car before that you needed to work on your homework?”

“Damn. I was hoping you wouldn’t remember,” he groaned. “Homework’s booooring.”

“Nevertheless, I will not be a negative influence on your grades. They actually matter in college.”

“Yeah, I know.” He walked him over to the door and handed him his still unfinished drink once he’d gotten his winter gear back on. “I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Yeah. I’ll come pick you up so you don’t have to ride the bus. I’ll have enough time between classes, so it won’t be a problem.” With a quick kiss, he left.

* * *

The first four notes on the piano gently prodded Sasuke from his slumber. They repeated, then the melody continued, slower than Naruto usually played it and clumsy, but it was the best awakening he’d had in years so he couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes yet. He just lay under the warm covers while the music, muffled because of his closed door, led him down the imaginary path to the most peaceful place he could imagine—the center of the garden maze at the Hyuuga estate. He thought he heard the clicking of his door opening and closing, but if Naruto was playing then surely he had imagined the noise. A ghost of a touch rustled his blankets, and he warily peeked his eyes open.

Completely disregarding regular social conventions like “greetings” or “requests for permission” or “personal space,” Gaara climbed right next to Sasuke in the bed. The brunette was wholly awake now, and started scooching swiftly back—his bed wasn’t *that* big—but the redhead put a hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s too noisy out there for sleeping, and you’re keeping it warm in here.” Even more than Naruto, Gaara hated the cold [by the time he’d arrived at The Home, there were rumors that his former foster parents had locked him in the freezer as punishments]. Thus, like a snake seeking a heat source, he’d wound up in everyone’s bed at least twice until the older kids made a schedule for him, at which point the head of The Home used his personal money to buy the redhead his own electric blanket.

Yet old habits die hard, some never at all. “Aren’t we too old for this?” Sasuke asked a bit wearily.

“Yes.” He nodded back sleepily. “You should leave. It will soon be for you what Naruto calls ‘time to go,’ anyway.” Looking for some context, he looked out the window, moving aside his blinds, and saw the snow piled lower than he expected. Try as he might, the redhead wouldn’t answer any of his inquiries. In fact, he ignored Sasuke altogether and went to sleep, giving his friend little pushes to the edge of the bed as he did so.

The raven, confused and curious (and hungry) followed the music, intent on getting answers from his guardian, who wasn’t supposed to be at home this late in the morning. However, the sight of Naruto home, cheerily playing the piano on a school day was not nearly so surprising as Naruto home, cheerily playing the piano on a school day with Itachi sitting next to him on the bench, attempting to imitate the melodious sound. Sasuke was suddenly very conscious of his unflattering pajama pants and t-shirt (courtesy of Naruto) proclaiming “The Angels have the Phone Box.” Too late to change clothes, or to fix his weird-ass bed head, because the blonde gleefully sang out to him, “Guess what? Snnnnooooooow daaaaaaaay!” His fingers ran over the shiny keys despite his usual lack of multitasking skills.

This drew Itachi’s eyes from their perusal of the sheet music towards Sasuke. The usual slight smile that seeing his boyfriend brought to his face was infused with smirky attitude. A little annoyed that Itachi had again appeared so suddenly and was once again seeing him when he wasn’t at his best, he decided to quash all urges to make an excuse to escape to his room to fix himself up. If he did that, Naruto would surely tease him later about acting like a girl.

Instead, he plopped down on the couch, acting as causal as he could so soon after waking. “Yeah, I saw the snow. Doesn’t look like much, but I suppose it was enough to delay the buses, huh?” Naruto nodded in answer, finishing up the piece. Remembering that he was hungry and deciding to get his ‘father’ to feed him, he thought for a moment before figuring the roundabout route was best, considering Naruto’s playful mood this morning. “Why’d you let Gaara go sleep in my bed?”

“I didn’t know that was where he went. Distractions abound.” He gestured to the man sharing the piano bench with him. “I’ve been trying to show Itachi the music, but he’s a troublesome student.”

“I pay attention, and I can tell you what all these notes and chords are,” he replied defensively.

“You have all the information right, and you’re a genius or whatever,” Sasuke bit his lip at the expression that comment caused—‘or whatever?’—Itachi seemed displeased that his intelligence was grouped with ‘whatever.’ “But you lack the coordination to play it yourself, that rhythm within the music.”

“There’s no need to worry about whether I can keep a rhythm, Naruto, and I am coordinated enough with my hands enough for… other things.” The low reply was clearly a jest, though Naruto’s ears looked a bit pinker and hurriedly he changed the topic.

“I’m a bit afraid to see how you’ve drawn Sasuke.” The blonde teased in retaliation; Uchiha smiled easily back at him.

“I’ll let you see at the end of the semester, when I submit my portfolio.” The man promised.

Although Sasuke was curious to see the drawings too, he was nothing less than a man and so his stomach had priority. “Hey daaad,” he interjected, drawing out the nickname, held in reserve for when he wanted to appeal to his best friend’s sense of duty. “You’re really awesome at piano,” he paused for a fraction of a second, just to see the unshakeable Naruto—still not used to praise—positively blush at the compliment, “I’m betting you could make me a beautiful breakfast, too.”

The blonde laughed good-naturedly, and abandoned the piano. “Alright, alright. Though it’s actually lunch now, you little sleepy head.” He ruffled the raven’s hair as he walked past. “Haven’t you noticed the time? And Itachi's here to pick you up. Though I think,” he lowered his voice to a loud whisper that was clearly audible, “I think it’s just an excuse to see my gorgeous face.” He smiled cheekily, assembling the necessary ingredients.

“Oh no. You’ve seen right through me.” Came the deadpan reply, though when Itachi saw Sasuke’s scowl starting to form, he smiled a bit.

Joking or not, Sasuke could not help but feel a touch jealous that his boyfriend was saying such things to someone else. Then again, it was only Naruto. Distraction came in the form of Uchiha standing from the bench and pointing with his eyes to the videogames, reminding the younger man of the other day when they had played.

Still uncomfortable with opening up his relationship in front of his sort-of-dad, he commented on something that he noticed since he’d walked out of his room. “You’re smiling quite a lot. Did something special happen, or are you excited about the snow too?”

“Actually, something did happen. I found out,” he checked his watch, “about an hour ago that not only has my father gone out of town, he’s stuck there because of the snow. We don’t have much here, obviously, or I wouldn’t be here, but just knowing that there’s extra distance between us sweeps the clouds away and makes the air taste cleaner.”

As Naruto started singing about sunny days, Uchiha moved closer to the younger man where he was slumped on the couch until he was right next to him. He bent over a bit. “Don’t worry, Sasuke. I’m not going to let them interfere with any of us. Naruto, you haven’t gotten any suspicious letters, have you?”

The blonde shook his head, unsure of the context. “Let me know, then, because there’s a chance my brother might try to bother you. And you, Sasuke,” he said, poking the wrinkles starting to form between the boy’s brows, smoothing them out. “You’ll need to get changed. If you’ve got snow gear, I’d bring it. With this snow, Kiba’s probably pulled together a snowball fight and we’ll need extra time to navigate through the war zones. After class, though, it could be fun to join in.”

Sasuke nodded; he’d had his share of snowball fights as a kid, and he had to admit he sort of missed it. “Once Gaara gets out of my room. Don’t want to change with him in there.” Migrating to the kitchen, he followed his nose to the flavorful fruit that Naruto was dressing his breakfast with. “So why is Gaara here? You’ve got a snow day, Itachi's here to flirt with you, apparently,” he rolled his eyes at the wink Naruto tossed Itachi's way, “but shouldn’t Gaara be at his own home? Not that having him here is bad. Just knowing him, he’s comfortable in his own environment.”

“He claims the dorms are too cold and drafty for him, and his adoptive brother and sister aren’t willing to pay as much money to jack up the heat like I do. Plus he was already here when we got the news about the school cancellation.”

Satisfied with this answer, Sasuke nodded, though there were now more important things to ask. Five things, to be precise. “What the hell is going on with my pancakes?” He asked, giving the five pancakes on his plate an odd look, tilting and turning the plate in an attempt to figure out the shapes.

“They’re for a story idea I’ve been thinking about. About ninjas and friendship and determination. These symbols,” gesturing to his batter formations, “are for each of the five secret cities. What do you think?”

The raven studied them carefully before choosing the squiggly lines to eat first. “They’re simple designs, so it should work.” He poked another one with his fork as he selected a strawberry from that side of his plate. “This one kind of looks like a snail fell over.”

“Hmm. I’m going to think on it some more before I bother writing anything yet. It’s just for my class, so it’s no big deal, really. And I’ve got plenty of ideas. How do you feel about a story with pirates who have superpowers looking for the ultimate treasure?”

“Pirates are out this year. I think zombies are in at this point.”

“Then, card games where the monsters become real and multiple personalities.” Naruto apparently had a rather large list of story ideas, as he put out one as soon as one was knocked down.

“Sounds like you’d end up with an infinite number of monsters.”

“Card games on motorcycles?”

“Wouldn’t the cards fly all over the place?” Itachi chimed in. “Some things should done on stationary surfaces.” His smirk told the other two exactly what kind of things he meant.

“A bunch of good ghosts battle bad ghosts and maintain order in the afterlife.”

“Well, if they’re ghosts they’re already dead,” Gaara, appearing suddenly—quite like a ghost himself—pointed out, “so would anybody really ever win, if nobody can die? You’d have to define very exactly what defeat and death mean, and create a set of rules for aging processes and illnesses, not to mention an elaborate hierarchy for the afterlife, involving loads and loads of characters.”

“A boy tries to take over the world with the best intentions but questionable, if incredible, methods.”

“It might work. But he’d have to be able to control either people or death. World domination isn’t possible otherwise; funding, manpower, and politics aside, some kind of massive superpower is necessary.” All three turned to Itachi, surprised at his answer. He shrugged. “One of my friends from my first college wanted to take over the world, but no matter what plan we (jokingly) came up with, there was no way around it: either take free will or control death.” He thought for a moment. “Well, maybe controlling time would work, but since we can’t I suggest you ready yourself to leave, Sasuke.”

Taking note of the time, he did as bid, and by the time he was ready to depart, Itachi had secured a promise from Naruto for piano lessons when their spare time matched up. Bidding a cheerful goodbye to Naruto and Gaara, they left for class, admiring the shiny, snowy scenery. They shared a peaceful, gentle silence as the sleek car effortlessly handled the iceless yet slick roads. One of Sasuke favorite things about this natural relationship with Itachi was the comfortable silence. Neither felt compelled to speak, as both treasured the silence hanging over them, soft as snow. At some point during the drive their hands had met and the warmth seemed to spread up Sasuke’s arm and settle somewhere in his chest.

The class was rowdy, enjoying the early morning snow but bemoaning that they had to go to class despite the weather and the report of another snowfall within the next hour. Their professor strolled in late, even for him; Kakashi was so notoriously late that the university made a point to tell him his class started fifteen minutes before it actually did, and after the first week all his students knew to arrive at a standard of five minutes after their official schedules said to.

“Today,” he announced in that lazy way of his, like even his words were taking their time leaving his mouth, “we’re going to do a few quick sketches. Just get as much as you can done within the time restraints.” Amid the grumbling, Kiba started to organize a snowball fight, writing down who was in and trying to make even teams on the side of his drawing space. “If you all shut up now and do it hard and fast,” he ignored Kiba’s hushed ‘that’s what she said,’ “I’ll let you out early.” That quieted everyone surprisingly suddenly.

Kakashi had Sasuke just go with what he was wearing, coats and all, for convenience. Every ten or fifteen minutes he changed something like his coat, scarf, or gloves, and altered his pose. All the students, without exception, worked harder than Sasuke had ever seen. The skritchy-scratch of pencils hastily working on paper, as all students abandoned their personal preferences in materials for the simplicity of lead, made their model feel like he had an itch in his ear, but the time passed quickly with such strict time limits.

Nearly halfway through the class time, a gunshot rang loud through the room and echoed up to the high ceiling. Everyone jumped, shouting in surprise and panic and turning to face the one side of the classroom, all staring at Uchiha, who alone sat frozen and looking half-horrified. The shotgun repeated, triggering a reaction from the longhaired man and he ruffled quickly through his bag, reaching for his phone and answering it. Realizing that the dreadful noise had merely been his ringtone, the rest of the class sat down and resumed their work, ignoring Itachi's conversation.

“Yes. Are you sure?” A pause. “No, it won’t be a problem.” He glanced out the window, and seeing the newly, rapidly falling snow, he recalculated. “Actually, expect a delay.” A third pause, this one longest of all. “No. I’ll take care of it. And about nine.” As he hung up, he packed his things; the moment he hung up he met Kakashi-sensei halfway, who’d started walking towards his student when he’d picked up the phone.

“Hope he gets into trouble.”

“Who answers their phone during class?”

“Come on. It’s probably an emergency or something. Why else would he be packing up his stuff?” Sakura defended Itachi's actions, her own way of repaying his help the other day. It was a bold attempt to hush those who only followed the rumors and knew one side of a very long story.

Sasuke was too worried about what the phone call had been about to pay mind to the conversation going on. He strained his ears, but he couldn’t catch a word of the hushed conversation; only the ending was audible to him. “Thank you, Hatake-sensei. I thought it would never… well, thank you.” The professor patted his back sympathetically, with the air of an old friend, and resumed his post atop the heaters, alternating between reading and observing his class.

Uchiha simultaneously fished for his keys and scribbled a short message on the corner of some paper. With all his things collected, he strode purposefully towards the platform. Disregarding his only task—sitting still and not moving a muscle—Sasuke climbed swiftly to his feet and moved closer to accept the scrap of paper from Itachi's outstretched hand. Since the majority of the class had restarted their drawings after being startled by Itachi’s ringtone, and therefore had only the most basic lines so far, and on top of that were curious about the interaction in front of them, they didn’t mind focusing on the different expression that had illuminated their subject’s face.

With an unconvincing smile, Itachi handed over the note. “I’m sorry. I won’t be able to drive you home today.”

“I’m not worried about that,” waving the apology aside while letting Itachi know he was worried about him. “Don’t even think you’re fooling me with that fake smile.” He replied, suppressing his curiosity because he was sure that the note held a satisfactory explanation.

The answering expression was apologetic, but resolute. “Of course not. I’ll see you next week. Good luck. Be safe.” With a clink of his keys and a swish of his coat, he was gone.

Hardly a moment after the door shut, the inquiries began. “So what was that about?” The loud blonde woman sitting near the front asked.

He pretended to read it, though the glimpse already showed the words were far less helpful than he’d been anticipating. It wasn’t her business, nor any of theirs, really, so he felt no guilt about lying to them. “He’s a friend of my father’s, so he’s been driving me home.” He gestured to the paper in his hand, careful not to let them see any of the words actually written there. “This is just the bus schedule, so I can hop on later.” It was maybe halfway true, but as even that much went against his instinct to reveal as little as possible about himself he figured he was doing reasonably well. All thanks to Itachi, of course. He tugged open the note properly, musing that though Naruto and Neji, even Gaara supported him, it was different having someone intent on pulling him out of the quicksand of despair, that frightful feeling of misery that dragged him down, invisible, swallowing him up and smothering him until he could hardly move.

However, his first impression was right: the contents were extremely disappointing in way of explanation.
‘Watch out for Orochimaru. Let me know if anything happens. Be safe, kitten.’ At the end were Itachi's initials, probably put there out of habit then necessity.

No explanation, no hint of where he was going? Somewhere a bit far, if he wasn’t to arrive until nine. Assuming that by ‘nine’ he’d meant the time, and not something else.
No phone number or way to reach him? He’d already looked up his boyfriend on the social networking sites and even in the phone book, but for whatever reason the man wasn’t listed anywhere. Then again, if he were dodging his brother to avoid harassment, it made sense, but still—it’d be nice to have a way to contact him.
And worse, the return of the nickname? He certainly didn’t think he resembled the cat at all.

On the other hand, he now held in his hand a note directly from his boyfriend, the first he’d seen of Itachi's handwriting, and he officially had a pet name, though the jury was still out on whether the ‘pet’ pun was good or bad. While his thoughts dwelt in memories of the other afternoon he’d spent with his boyfriend, the images dancing before his mind’s eye, he was completely unaware that his face had become a stage to his emotions. His audience, studying and meticulously recreating his warm and tender expression, was long forgotten.

When Kakashi noticed how dutifully his class worked, he allowed them extra time. Of course, he couldn’t help noticing that their model looked particularly fun to draw at the just then, too. It was only when the snow outside began to pile up to the beginnings of dangerous heights that he gave his class the dismissal. “Travel safely, everyone. I hate funerals.” On that happy note, he vanished down the hallway.

With their primary leader gone, Kiba hopped up to the platform, unintentionally scooching Sasuke over as he reassembled his scattered winter wear. “Alright! This is gonna be a clean game.” He drew a quick diagram of the battleground, labeling the boundaries as he grouped those who chose to fight into fairly equal teams. “Headshots don’t count. All seconds are Mississippi seconds, Ino. Anybody putting rocks or blocks of ice into their ammo gets reported to the campus security, which will probably lead to assault charges or something like that. And, what else, what else... oh, right! The first team to have all team members out at the same time loses.”

He surveyed the teams, nodding his head as he did so. “OK. We all set?” The teams seemed fair, and they so they headed out. Sasuke was surprised to find himself being dragged along by the ringleader. “Wait! I have to catch my bus soon. If I miss it, I’ll have to wait an hour and with this snow, it might get canceled.”

Kiba waved his objection aside as they headed outside, the art student leaving his possessions in the storage spots in the safety of the classroom. “We’ll figure out the carpooling later, so come play with us.”

“I have homework.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to play; and he really should finish up that paper for tomorrow.

“It’s fine. Naruto trusts me to take care of you, and that includes making sure you socialize. We’re fun. Really.”

“He certainly doesn’t trust you to show up at work on time,” was the mumbled reply. Any he certainly wasn’t so bad that he needed someone to help him socialize! Though now that he thought about it, he’d been a bit reclusive lately. He had reasons, and few would disagree that they were legitimate, but he supposed he could be a little more social. And so he decided to stay.

“Besides,” he added as he fixed his scarf to stop the much colder air of the outside, much colder than it had been a few hours ago, from stealing his heat, “we need you to win. You look like you have good fighting instincts.” They dodged a few preliminary shots as they made their way to the place where their teammates had chosen to construct their team’s snow fort. “Hey, where’s Hinata? I just saw her, so I thought she was staying to play with us.”

Sasuke started at the name, and, placing the name with the most likely face that he could remember from the class, wondered if she was Neji’s Hinata. Really, that would be just too many coincidences. Quite ridiculous.

“She’s got the awesomest aim. Like a legit sniper, I swear. I was depending on her to take out people from a distance. Ritsuka, start making snowballs. We’re going to need a lot of ammo for this. Orochi, you’ve got to make that wall a bit thicker.” Sasuke had no problem making perfect snowballs that held their shape; Orochimaru winced in distaste at the nickname, but Sasuke thought it looked more like a reflex so he was probably used to Kiba’s abbreviations. Anyhow, he seemed pacified that Kiba was working harder than they were at strengthening the fort and adding to the ammo pile. “Any word from Shino?”

After she sent the text message, Sakura jammed her freezing fingers back into her gloves. “Hinata said she had other things to do today, but your boyfriend should be here any moment.” She checked out her team; Kiba had fought her out of tough spots before, and Orochimaru had proven himself in snow battle a few weeks earlier. Ritsuka, odd and unfamiliar as he seemed to be, looked like he’d handled worse than this. Shino was golden, she knew, because Kiba wouldn’t lie or joke about talent when it came to snowball fights. Kiba considered them to be Snowball Battles, and therefore Serious Business. Her team felt decent enough, though they’d never all worked together like this. “Can we really beat them, though?”

“Don’t doubt me. I got it all figured out. you focus on Ino, Orochi's our strategist against Shikamaru; Shino’s got Tenten, cause they’re both used to handling a massive amount of weapons, you see; Ritsuka will get Rock Lee because they’re both sort of the wild cards here, and I’m taking out Tsunade because she purposefully hit me in the face last year at every battle. Plus, it’s not fair for Ino to call her older sister in to lead their team.”

“You called Shino in. He’s not an art student, much less attending our college. At least Ritsuka has been to our classes.”

“Details, details.” Kiba brushed all that away, brushing away some snow to make a clear spot for coming up with strategies. “Go ahead, Orochi. What’s the plan?”

The pale man told everyone their duties, drawing in the snow to make his instructions clear. It was simple but that only made it easier to implement. The pincer move was a classic, and would be effective. Sasuke couldn’t help but admire Orochimaru a bit. Any unease he felt at the reminder of his promise not to be near Orochimaru faded, even as he was super aware of the precious note in his inner coat pocket. With the dwindling anxiety, feelings of excitement grew; his memories of snowball fights reminding his body of what to do. Kiba checked that both teams were ready, and gave the signal to begin. Moves and habits learned from his childhood Snow Wars were strong, and Sasuke didn’t have to think much, just dodge, aim, throw, and duck again.

Kiba’s team appeared to be winning, but it soon became apparent that they were playing right into Shikamaru's plan. On top of that, his roommate Chouji had been walking out of the dining hall and decided to join, along with Tsunade’s cousin Shizune who’d gotten out of her class late. Sakura’s foot started to hurt from her slight injury the other day, so she kept the stockpile of ammo full, but it soon became clear that unless they thought of something brilliant, they were going to lose.

A temporary ceasefire was called, to protect non-players from being hit, because Kiba had added this to the rules of engagement since an unfortunate incident a few weeks ago where a girl had gotten hit and her boyfriend tried to beat up Kiba. So the stream of people exiting the Dining Hall and heading back to their dorms gave them a brief but welcome intermission.

Some used the opportunity to slip into the dining hall and warm up with a hot drink. Since Sasuke didn’t attend the college and therefore didn’t have a student pass to enter the cafeteria, Kiba volunteered to take him back into the building where their class had been to go to the bathroom and warm their hands with the hand dryers.

Unused to silence, and figuring this was as good a time as any, Sasuke ventured the question he’d been pondering for a while. “Why does Itachi hate Orochimaru?”

“I’d’ve thought you’d know.” Kiba replied unhelpfully. But he apparently did know more than he initially let on, and explained as he shoved his wet gloves under the dryer, shaking them impatiently. “See, on the first day of class, Uchiha was actually kinda friendly. Class was just starting, and we didn’t know yet that we were supposed to show up late—we hadn’t had Kakashi-sensei yet, so we didn’t know what he was like yet, and anyway Sakura was talking to Uchiha. It wasn’t like he was going to go out with her or anything, but at least she wasn’t crying yet, but the second Orochimaru walked in, Uchiha said something really rude to her—she still hasn’t told me what—and marched right over to Orochimaru. Now, I have to admit, at first sight, I thought Orochi looked like Freddy Krueger—he just had that sort of psychopathic tilt to his smile, even though he’s a pretty decent guy. Mostly,” he added, “but every now and then we see him hanging out after class with some shady people.

“Never mind that, though. Uchiha walks right up to him and without so much as a how-do-you-do suckerpunches him in the face. Solid hit, knocked Orochimaru over and he could hardly see out of his eye for a bit, not to mention the swelling on his cheek. He didn’t fight back, never pressed charges or anything. You’ve seen how laid-back Kakashi is; he’s pretty well known for it. But he had just walked into the classroom then, and when he pulled Uchiha away he was fuckin’ furious. Kakashi-sensei dragged him out into the hallway, they had a nice long chat and I guess sensei sent him home, but the next class he was back, sitting quietly to the side all by himself, looking guilty but not a bit like he regretted it. It’s hard to explain, but it was scary seeing hardcore rage in somebody’s expression, pure hatred concentrated in one blow. I’d love to draw it—it’d come out awesome! There was an animalistic quality to the whole scene, powerful but controlled. It’d give anybody the goose bumps, I swear.

“Anyway, so we’ve been ignoring him because really, what kind of person attacks another like that? And Orochi wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details. He said something vague about things in the past, and then since he’s kinda weird it’s not like we’ve been bonding all this time anyway. Just, Uchiha was scary, and art majors aren’t exactly known for being the toughest crowd, you know? We don’t really want any trouble.

“So a few weeks later you come along, and suddenly he’s like a normal person. He smiles and pays attention to us and looks, I dunno, human.” The image he’d gotten of Itachi from Kiba’s description seemed very different from what he’d seen. Then again, Kiba did not seem like one to lie. As far as Sasuke could tell, he had no motive to make this story up, and since this was a firsthand account, he couldn’t even blame it on rumors. “But what tipped you off that Uchiha isn’t a fan of Orochimaru?” Kiba asked.

There didn’t seem to be any reason not to tell the truth, and as he was trying to get better at trusting people, he thought he might as well disclose the little he knew. “He had me promise to stay away from Orochimaru. And said that he’s a liar.” He added, absentmindedly patting his pocket where the note was kept.

“Like I said, we don’t hang out with him a whole lot. Well, we didn’t until just recently. Me and Sakura were hanging out at the lab where Shino’s doing his internship and somehow got involved in a snowball fight—“ Sasuke had a feeling he knew exactly how, and that it had to do with either Kiba’s bad aim or loud mouth— “on the way back to Shino’s dorm room. He showed up out of nowhere, his hair all messy and looked like he’d just been in a fight, but he took one look at us and backed us up without question. We defeated a team calling themselves Organization Thirteen. Fun battle. Couldn’t have won it without him.”

“Hey guys! It’s almost time!” A shout down the hallway signaled it was time to gather again, and they went back to their fort and huddled together.

The one to speak first was Shino, who for whatever reason seemed eager to get home. “It’s pointless. The other guys have had better execution, and they’re not half as tired as we are. Let’s just surrender so we can go.”

“There’s got to be a way we can win!” Kiba slammed his fist into the snow emphatically, sliding a sideways glare at the man beside him.

Sakura shook her head. “It just can’t happen. We’re outnumbered, and Shikamaru's the best. No offense.” She added. But Orochimaru was nodding his head in agreement.

“None taken. It’s true. Nevertheless, I’ll give it my all.” He wiped a space clear in the snow, his purple gloved hands elegantly redrawing the battleground. “Alright. The main problem is here,” he pointed to Tsunade, “and here,” pointing to Tenten. “Tsunade has decent aim, but her real strength is that she’d got Shizune backing her up and alternating their shots. Tenten has quite perfect aim, but she takes a few seconds longer to line up her shots, which is why we’ve been able to hit her so often, but also the reason we keep having simultaneous knockouts on that side. Unfortunately, backing her up is Rock Lee, who’s actually their biggest asset.” He smirked in reluctant admiration. “The guy’s accuracy is nearly dreadful, but he can throw so many per minutes he’s like a machine.

“Fortunately for us, Shikamaru probably doesn’t plan on actually throwing a snowball himself—we won’t count him as a fighter—and Ino has been paying much more attention to her phone than anything that’s going on around her. We will use that to our advantage.”

“What about Chouji? The snowball he hit me with before was practically the size of a watermelon, it was so huge.”

“Yes, he’s not exactly predictable. Half the time he fights like his life’s on the line, and the other half of the time he’s eating snow cones, using those little flavor-packets made for water that he’s got hiding in his pockets.”

“It sounds like you’ve got a plan, though.” Kiba sounded defiantly optimistic.

The smile that Orochimaru gave their team leader reminded Sasuke of a mass murderer for an instant; yet it passed quickly and Sasuke made sure he paid attention to the plan. Despite his many issues and numerous weaknesses, he had his pride. He would not let down his team!

“Yes. It maximizes our strengths quite nicely. Sakura stays here, as our cover-fire and our safety.” He faced the pink-haired girl directly. “You must absolutely not get hit. Defend yourself, no matter what. Even if you have to run and find cover elsewhere. We might fail, but as long as you’re still in we can start over.” She nodded, accepting this grave responsibility. Next were Kiba and Shino, and he explained their parts to them as he tucked his impractically long hair back into his scarf and hood. “You two are going to take down Tsunade and Shizune.”

Kiba pumped his fist excitedly in the air, all but bouncing in place as Orochimaru detailed their mission. “Focus on precision and dodging; once you’ve got them out, make sure you go for Chouji first. He’ll probably get mad and fight seriously if you take out his roommate before him.” With the utmost gravity, he addressed the last member of the team. “You, Ritsuka, are sticking with me as we bring down Rock Lee. He won’t start firing until Tenten goes down, but once he does, there’s not much of a chance. So we need to take them out at the same time. We’ll be relying on aim and agility.”

Sasuke nodded; and all the team looked at each other carefully, feeling that this was their last chance at victory; in the distance, the sun’s last rays had vanished, their stomachs rumbled for dinner, and the meager campus lighting only added to the confusion of battle. Sakura's roommate Karin, who, though she thought herself too mature for their silly games had stayed to watch, stood from the park bench she was occupying and gave the signal that the way was clear of bystanders and that they could resume their fight. “Just hurry up and win, somebody. I’m starving, and Sakura promised to get me dinner today.” She complained to whoever was listening, which at that precise moment was no one.

Yelling loudly, Kiba led their final charge. Raining down snowballs all over, Sakura threw as many as she could until she ran out. Whether Shikamaru hadn’t expected this tactic (unlikely) or he had a counter plan, because Kiba and Shino took out their targets almost immediately; however, Chouji suddenly shot Shino right after. He and Kiba exchanged shits, further distracting Ino from aiding Tenten like she was supposed to. When she finally had a clear shot at Orochimaru, she abandoned it in favor of checking the text message she’d just received.

It read “UR OUT” with a smiley face sticking out its tongue.

Realizing her mistake at such a crucial moment, she looked up to shoot at Sakura, who winked as her last snowball hit Ino. The blonde didn’t even have a chance to duck, and settled for glaring at her rival who was still smiling at her personal victory.

Tenten was having a difficult time aiming; she was tired, as it been a long day starting with digging her car out of the morning snow and, now that she thought about it, that was how it was going to end, too. But she valiantly kept going—even if Rock Lee wasn’t rambunctiously cheering her on at an unnaturally loud volume next to her ear—her competitive spirit wouldn’t let her just quit. In the midst of these thoughts, she felt the firm, cold smack of a snowball hit her left side.

“Tenten! NOOOOOOOOO!” Unable to deny the hit, she put her hands straight up in the air and carefully counted down her Mississippi seconds until she could rejoin the game, as per the rules. For only a moment more, Rock Lee mourned his fallen comrade. Then, he was throwing a constant stream of snowballs, alternating between the two spots on either side of the trash can where he could see the edges of Sasuke’s coat and the tips of Orochimaru’s boots.

“He’s got us pinned! If we don’t hurry, time will be up and then Tsunade, Shizune, Tenten, and Ino will come back in and we’ll have to start over!” Sasuke said earnestly in a hushed tone. He and Orochimaru were sitting extremely close behind their makeshift cover out of necessity, but Sasuke really didn’t have any time to freak out about the proximity. Despite the cold, sweat had begun to bead on their foreheads. Wisps of hair escaped from their hoods and scarves, and clumps of snow were stuck in the bits of their coats. The other man leaned right into his ear, whispering between panting breaths that warmed the side of Sasuke’s face, “as soon as I stand, hit from the right.” Understanding immediately the sacrifice he was proposing, Sasuke shook his head. If anybody should go down, it should be him—Orochimaru’s aim was better than his anyway. But Orochimaru grabbed Sasuke’s hand and squeezed, saying, “Shut up. And good luck,” though if he hadn’t seen it he would hardly have known through their thick gloves. It encouraged him anyhow, though he’d have to analyze it later to find out why the touch didn’t bother him.

“COME OUT, CRETINOUS COWARDS!!!” Shouted Rock Lee in frustration.

The next instant, Orochimaru leapt up, screaming at the top of his lungs, “JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM?!?!” and ran recklessly right at Rock Lee, drawing his attention and taking as many hits as he could. At the third hit to his chest, he fell on the spot, face first into the snow. But there was hope. As ordered, Uzumaki took advantage of the distraction and hit Rock Lee in the kneecap and again in the abdomen. Lee went down, wailing dramatically.

Only Chouji and Shikamaru were left, but in another two seconds their teammates would join back in. In his haste, Sasuke’s shot at Chouji’s back went a bit wild. Somehow, it still hit Shikamaru’s shoulder, near his chest, and taking him out of the game. The sound of his roommate getting hit distracted Chouji and Kiba took the chance and got the large man right in the back, thereby winning the battle.

Kiba jumped high in the air, howling wildly in victory as all his team added their own shouts of joy. The losers slumped, grumbling and punching the ground. In particular, Shikamaru was peeved. Well, as peeved as he ever got. “I accounted for every possibility. Ino’s told me everything she knows about all of you.” He frowned at Orochimaru and Sasuke specially, holding the pair responsible for his defeat. “So how did we lose?”

“That’s the power of guts! The triumph of fighting spirit over logic! We kick reason to the curb and do the impossible!” Kiba yelled with every ounce of air in his lungs. He dragged everyone into a group hug, too enthusiastic about victory to pay any attention to Sasuke’s half-hearted attempts to escape the clutch. Orochimaru gave him a sympathetic look, but he was too squashed by Sakura's boobs to do much.

The long fight was ended. Those who had bags and personal belongings in the classroom collected them, and they headed for their cars. Merrily, Sasuke walked to the bus stop, double-checking his watch and seeing that he had plenty of time before the last bus arrived. Though something didn’t seem right… a third glance at his watch prompted a look at his cell phone, which showed a much later time. “Damn!” he cursed. The watch must have frozen during the fight, and now he was stuck here.

Well, not stuck. He could call Naruto, who was technically responsible for him at a time like this. But he didn’t want to stress him out any more than he had already; even if stress wasn’t the issue, the blonde would take at least an hour to get here because it was extremely unlikely that he’d bothered to clean off his car, and that would be after he spent forever bundling up against the cold.

The next logical choice would be Neji, but his uncle had just passed away. Regardless of the distance or intimacy, it just wasn’t right to bother a friend more than necessary during the grieving period. And it’s not like it’s an emergency. He turned around to head back to the building, figuring he could just bum a ride from Kiba.

Only to see him going past in the passenger seat of Shino’s car, and Sakura and her roommate Karin in the back.

So much for that plan.

So now it came down to calling either Neji, which didn’t really seem in the spirit of friendship, or Naruto, who would take so long it’d just be easier to walk. He sat on the bench, phone in hand, toggling between the two names. Eeny-meeny-miny-mo had nearly come to an end when he was approached. Orochimaru, cleaned up and hair neatly brushed from the messy snowball fight after a quick visit to the school’s restroom, half-smiled at him. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes. I’m just fine.” He impulsively lied. Then he thought about it. it’d be much more convenient to get this man to drive him home instead of waiting for Naruto—and if he felt weird, he could always direct him to Neji’s house and get their housekeeper to drop him off on her way home.. It’s not like the guy was going to kidnap him, and if he tried anything he’d the police or something. “Though I could actually use a ride home, if you’re headed that way.” He gestured down the street towards where he lived. This could work to his advantage, really; it’d be a great opportunity to find out what was going on between this man and his boyfriend.

“Yeah, the shortest route home is that way. I could drop you off no problem. My car’s over this way.” He patiently waited while Sasuke gathered his book bag and they walked purposefully to the parking lot, Orochimaru constantly retucking his long, long hair into his hood and leading the way to a plain, dark blue four-door car.

For a moment, Sasuke looked at it with surprise. “This is your car?”

He received a frown. “…yes?” He unlocked the doors. “That is why I have the keys. It’s not like I stole it or anything.”

“And this is your only car?” The careless question slipped out. Way to be subtle, he chastised himself.

“Yes,” he replied a touch frostily. “I share this car with my step-father. Not all of us can afford Italian sports cars.”

“I didn’t mean—I just thought that—” what should he say? That he thought he had a different car because he suspected that he followed him the other week? Luckily lying was a habit. “I could have sworn that this was Kakashi-sensei’s car. And there’s nothing wrong with practicality; my guardian has a car older than this that we share sometimes.” It didn’t quite smooth out the bumps, but the shuffle into the car and moving the items off the front seat—tools of some sort—was conducted with a little less ice on Orochimaru’s part.

“Well, where to?” The older man followed his directions without comment. The silence felt awkward, and Sasuke had a looming worry that he would eventually be asked about himself things he didn’t want to talk about, so he led off the conversation.

“So what made you choose art? This is your major, I’m assuming, not merely a hobby?”

Apparently grateful for the silence to end, he responded with fervor. “I had to fight my mother for it, and when she finally left, my step-father urged me to try. I just had to raise the money first, which is why, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m older than most of my classmates.” Every statement was loaded with potential, but the tricky part would be picking the one that would cause the least amount of trouble.

“You’re older? I couldn’t tell.” He lied kindly, trying to make his car companion feel at ease. “Not more than a year or two.”

“Well, more like four or five—I’m 28—but that’s only a year and a half behind Kakashi-sensei, so I guess I feel the years more.” There were so many questions that Sasuke wanted to ask now, about his motivations, his family, and of course about what was between him and Itachi, that he was caught off guard by the genuine interest he felt. Yet he hardly knew where to start so it took the pressure off when the man continued. “We even went to the same high school. Of course, he was ahead of me, but I some him in the hallways sometimes and I knew who he was. We actually had one of my other profs there too—the blonde pottery professor, Deidara-sensei. Oh, that’s right; you met him the other day. And then—” the sentence cut off abruptly and his teeth clicked with the force of shutting his mouth.

“Look, I don’t know what he told you, all I can be sure is that he warned you about me. Itachi, I mean. It was a private high school, so I guess it was good enough for little geniuses, and I tried to be nice because I felt sorry for him. Barely a teen, half as tall as everyone else, dashing from class to class with his head held high and reading during study breaks and lunch… how could I not try to reach out to him? I tried to befriend him, but the spoiled brat made a fuss. Now he’s going around causing trouble for me.” He paused, collected himself and sighed. “I’m not trying to make you dislike him or anything. But it wouldn’t be fair for you to find out about his real personality too late.”

Those same words, spoken to him before about his past boyfriends, struck a chord. So even though he knew he had promised Itachi to stay away from Orochimaru, it was hard to deny that an outside perspective could have saved him from hurting before. Though he was still curious, “why? Why do you care?”

For a while, Sasuke thought he wasn’t getting an answer. Then “I don’t understand the question.”

“Why do you care what happens to me?”

There was more silence, frowning, and a few attempts to start. Eventually he said, “You seem like a sweet kid. It would be unfortunate if you got hurt because of him or his family.”

“You think his family would hurt me? That his brother would come after me?” A nervousness he hadn’t been fully aware of heightened his voice slightly. “Isn’t that a little extreme, harassing your brother’s lovers out of spite?”

“Half-brother,” was said reflexively, and clearly Orochimaru hadn’t really meant to say it. “I’ve known Itachi's half-brother for a while. While it’s no excuse for all his behavior, he never was treated fairly by anyone in that family. It’s surprising he’s doing as well as he is now, given the stress he’s been under his entire life.”

A few arguments sprung to mind, but since he didn’t really have any objective information, and all his knowledge of the situation had been hearsay, regardless of reliable testimony, it wasn’t fair to either side to condemn anyone yet. Though this was certainly a very different perspective than he’d gotten used to; Orochimaru had a face that didn’t exactly inspire warmth and friendship and trust. Still, there seemed to be a whole other side going on here now that Sasuke was paying attention. No, that wasn’t it. He was always paying attention—too much attention—it’s more like being able to really see what’s going on, all because he stopped being so—

Just as they were nearly at his house, and Sasuke was giving the final directions, Naruto called him. It was expected, since he’d forgotten to call and say that he’d be home late for the snowball fight. Instead the blonde told him (once Sasuke had explained how he was arriving home) to head straight to the Hyuuga estate because they were having a small celebration to honor Toph, Neji’s thirteen year old sister, who had just gotten her black belt.

New directions given, Sasuke relaxed a bit more. It was hard to believe he was in a small space with a person who was, if not a stranger, then definitely strange and in some ways a bit creepy. But then, that was changing too, and he began to wonder more and more if he had just been judging people all wrong from the start.

Their arrival was greatly anticipated. Once the gate had been cleared and they were in the driveway, Naruto was happily running through the doors, Suki not far behind. They hugged Sasuke immediately, and after a pause managed to convince Orochimaru to step in for just a minute to warm up.

The introductions were rather awkward, though. “Orochimaru, meet my guardian Naruto, one of my closest friends Neji, his younger sisters, Suki and Toph, and his parents. Everyone, this is Orochimaru, my…” His what? Not classmate. Few could say they were friends already. Coworker seemed closest, but still wasn’t right. “He’s in the art class I sit for, and offered to give me a ride home.” Neji kept trying to catch his eye, but there were far too many distractions to focus on one thing.

Somehow, the five minutes to warm back up turned into an hour. And a pleasant hour it was; dinner had just been laid out and the housekeeper pulled out a bit of wine, for she couldn’t help but dote on the tough little Toph. After Toph told the tale of her achievement several times over, growing epically each time, Naruto turned the conversation around. “And why were you two so late? Up to something? Hmmm?” He laughed a little too loudly. Mrs. Hyuuga just made it worse by refilling his wine glass.

Red highlighted young Uzumaki’s cheeks in involuntary irritation at the very notion of disloyalty to his boyfriend—he’d never had a problem with unfaithfulness, for all his relationship issues—but his denials were drowned out by laughter. Orochimaru, noticing that the boy was a bit uncomfortable but not very forthcoming with his real relationship status, launched into the story of the snowball fight. By the end of it, even Suki, who had been put off a bit by his strange gold eyes, was enraptured with the pale man’s storytelling.

The blonde enjoyed hearing their play-byplay story of the epic snowball fight, musing that Sasuke really was seeming more and more like his old self; that quiet excitement shining in his eyes, the dark grey color belying the liveliness beneath.

“And so we won, thanks to Sasuke.” With a start, Sasuke realized that the whole dinner Orochimaru been using his real name. Obviously, he figured it out when they’d arrived, but he wasn’t making a big deal out of it so there probably wasn’t anything to worry about.

“Hey, you took the shots necessary for victory. It sounds like an equal share of the praise to the both of you,” Neji commented appreciatively. All this talk made him miss the good old days when he hung out with Sasuke and Naruto at The Home, when they’d spend all day playing outside until his father had to drag him back home at the end of the day.

“Now, I know you youngsters could stay up all night talking,” Mr. Hyuuga cut in, “but it is near midnight and some of us have school tomorrow.” As his pale eyes looked around the table, he reassessed. “Actually, all of us have school tomorrow.” Leaving their son in charge of dispatching chores and taking care of their guests, they said their goodbyes and left to prepare their lesson plans for the next day. There was a brief but direct argument about homework, though his sisters could only concede defeat when it came to schoolwork; a short conversation with the housekeeper settled their arrangements for the night, and finally Neji was walking the three to the door.

“Thanks for coming over! It’s good to have people to celebrate, regardless of the occasion. Dad needed something to cheer him up a bit, and this definitely did the trick.” His voice dropped to a hushed tone. “I’m sorry Hanabi wouldn’t come out of her room. We’ve had some food sent up to her, but she’s hardly picked at it. Sent it back down barely touched.” Worry dominated, even though he’d said several times during class the other day that he couldn’t care less about his bratty cousin.

“What about Hinata? Have you found her yet? She was always so sweet.” Naruto covered his slurs quite well, but if he was to teach tomorrow, they needed to leave right away so he could start recovering.

A strained smile graced Neji’s thin mouth. “Not yet. But we’ll talk more about this later—you need to get yourself together. We can bluff through class, but you have to go to work.” He patted them on the back and tossed Sasuke the keys from the blonde’s coat pocket. With an unwarranted formality, he shook the hand of his third guest. “Orochimaru. Nice to meet you. I expect we’ll see you again soon.” The man nodded, but wasn’t sure what was to make of that, so he helped them get Naruto in the car and buckled. The man fell asleep almost immediately, like a toddler who spent every waking moment running, then as soon as he was still fell dead asleep to recharge all his energy. “Good night guys!” Neji dashed inside the house, shaking the slush off his slippers.

They shut the door on the blonde, and they looked at each other for a moment, finally alone since the confusion started. “So…” the older man shivered. “It’s freezing, and I really need to get home, so I’ll make this quick. Your real name?”

“Until I decide to say, it’s none of your business.” He said firmly, just so the man understood his stance. “But since you already know, yes, it’s Sasuke. I value my privacy, so if we could keep this between us I’d appreciate it.”

Yellow eyes grew cloudy with thought. The night was cold and the hour late, so there really was no reason to stay any longer. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind. Are you alright to drive?”

“Yeah. I had maybe a quarter of a glass. Wasn’t really in the mood to get as bad as him.” He jerked his thumb to his friend in the car. “You?”

“Just fine. I have a decently high tolerance to begin with, but I didn’t take much more than you did. Knew I’d have to drive in this icy weather.” They looked up, and the sky punctuated the remark with the beginning of a flurry. Snowflakes fell softly and soon covered the roads once more. “Well, good night then. Oh wait—” he pulled out his cell phone. “What’s your number?”

“What?” Finally a bold move, but from the wrong person. Again he berated himself for not securing Itachi's phone number earlier.

“I’ll text you mine. That way if you get stuck or need a ride again, you’ll have an option other than walking home.” That sounded reasonable, and Sasuke reassured himself that since he would never call, it wasn’t breaking further the promise he’d made to stay away from Orochimaru. The exchange of numbers settled, each climbed into his respective car, Orochimaru with his phone to his ear and Sasuke making sure Naruto was strapped comfortably. They left, making fresh tracks in the newly fallen snow.

By the time they had arrived home, it was quite late, and Naruto made a point of hugging Sasuke before he went in to sleep.

While Sasuke washed up for bed, he realized with no little surprise that, while unsure of the exact moment, all day today he’d made a relatively large amount of physical contact; hugging, being extremely close to Orochimaru, and none of it had resulted in a bad reaction. Trusting another person, even a little bit like this, felt like jumping into a mighty rushing river. Soon, Sasuke would feel able to consider himself past the effects that controlling, violent boyfriends had caused. Thinking about it made him a little nervous, even as he lay in his warm, cozy bed, but he took comfort in the fact that whatever river he had jumped into, it was leading somewhere safe—and he wasn’t alone.

That night, he dreamed of a smooth lake. The moonlight shone on it, lighting the whole beach up as dazzling as the daytime, and on the shoreline he stood, alone. He could hear voices and noises behind him, yet he was unafraid because they were familiar and friendly. It was the most peaceful dream he’d had since he and Naruto had first met as children, and had snuggled together under the warmth of a blanket.

* * *

So that’s the chapter so far. Hopefully it was good, though some of you might be upset that Itachi's gone right when I’ve gotten back, so… just don’t hate me, ok?

One thing led to another, and I now have a tumblr account. My username is “swordwithoutfear” so yeah if you’re on there, let me know and we’ll be tumblr buddies! My brother follows me on there, though, so I can’t publicly post anything relating to this (I like keeping my life compartmentalized—its worked for me so far)

And yeah so, if you celebrate it, have a good thanksgiving!
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