Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Soup's On	By : OfFansAndFlames Category: Naruto AU/AR > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1793 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters mentioned. I make no money on this fiction.

Chapter List
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It was five in the morning when Sasuke's alarm sounded. Today would be Naruto's first day at the labor center. Sasuke's body began to rouse automatically at the familiar sound of his alarm clock, but Naruto placed his palm over Sasuke's eyes before they had a chance to open. Their situations had been reversed.
"Ssh, this is for me. Go back to sleep."
Naruto knew that Sasuke tended to have a difficult time falling asleep once he was awoken – another one of their many dissimilarities. Naruto had uncharacteristically scoured Sasuke's closet for the best outfit last night. In the past, even before he had become homeless, he'd never given his apparel such thought. But this had been his first day in public being anything other than a vagrant in over a year. It was exciting to him, even if he might end up spending the whole day cleaning toilets. Finally, he was a productive member of society. A normal kid, just like anyone else.
The air was icy as he hopped on the bus route. But the sun was bright. He was glad to be spending so much time outside, which was ironic considering. He had left the house fifteen minutes early to avoid any complications. He was to arrive at the center by six exactly. Who would be there? Would they be adults? His age? Could he even make friends? His heart was thudding in his ears as the bus arrived, and there was a wide smile on his face.
He tried to focus on these things rather than what could possibly go wrong. What if someone recognized him? What if he was asked the wrong questions or gave himself away? He'd have to be careful with his words. But there was nothing he could do to make himself any safer at this point, so he tried his best to tune out these thoughts.
"Franklin and Main, Franklin and Main."
Naruto's brows knit. This wasn't a stop he'd been told to expect. He stood now, sauntering over to a sign on the side of the bus that depicted the route and all relevant stops. Shit. He'd gotten on the wrong bus.
He hopped off of the bus. What would he do now? He'd manage. He had to. But what if he was late? He wanted so badly to help. How could he already be getting this wrong? He'd have to keep his head. He used a stranger's cell phone to call the Metro line, and he arrived at the center at 5:57. He'd made it after all. Still flustered, he approached the long line of participants, aging from their teens to late adulthood. All of them, prospective friends. Naruto knew that he would have fun here.

Meanwhile, Sasuke prepared himself for the school bus. He was mostly over his fever, though he was still plagued by a slight cough. He brought a pack of tissues with him to dab at his runny nose every several minutes. Once he arrived, school stretched out, and Sasuke couldn't decide whether he appreciated this or not. He had some unappealing business to attend to this evening. He also knew that today was Naruto's first day at the labor center. He prayed that everything would go to plan.
After school, he took a bus to the hospital. He would have brought Itachi one of his favorite foods – a chicken sandwich from a local burger joint, but the hospital staff had sternly warned Sasuke against bringing him outside food. Ordinarily, Sasuke might have neglected that rule. However, given that the problem was with Itachi's stomach to begin with, he had decided to play it safe.
He rapped on Itachi's door quietly, not wanting to wake him if he had been able to sleep.
"Come in."
Sasuke pulled up his standard chair and swung it to the bedside before sitting. Itachi was getting too thin, and his skin was a pale white. However, the bags beneath his eyes had diminished, and he was looking livelier than he had yesterday.
"Hey, Sasuke. How was school today?"
"Boring. Anything good on TV today?"
Itachi sighed, his IV tube following his arm as he rested his hand on his forehead. The oxygen tubes to his nose must have been removed last night.
"I have to get over this fever soon so they can just cut me open and send me home. How many paternity test reveals can they possibly air in one day?"
"If anyone asks, I'll send them your way."
Itachi chuckled softly, subduing himself to avoid injury. Sasuke frowned down at Itachi, placing his palm over Itachi's forehead. It was hot, though Sasuke wasn't sure what else to expect.
"How are you feeling? Any better than yesterday?"
"I'm getting better every day," Itachi answered with a smile. "Now stop fussing."
"I'm gonna fuss, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Itachi's expression sunk slightly. His machines beeped quietly in the background.
"Sasuke, are you taking care of yourself? You've been pushing yourself so hard lately."
"That's my line," Sasuke answered wryly.
"I'm serious. You're working at St. Magdalene's, and you were sick yourself. You're so involved with school, and I can tell you're-"
"Stop it, Itachi. I'm fine," Sasuke answered sternly. "Besides, you're not one to lecture me about pushing myself too hard."
A guilty frown.
"I know I made the wrong decision."
When Sasuke continued, his voice was much softer, "You risked everything when you delayed that surgery. Even if you could've gotten away with it, just…don't take risks like that with something so important."
Did he even have a right to scold Itachi? He didn't care what rights he had, really. So what if he was being a hypocrite? The worst Sasuke could get was juvie. Itachi could've died, and he just wanted Itachi to be safe.
"Promise me that you'll never put yourself in that sort of danger again."
"I never wanted to put you through that, Sasuke. I'm not trying to justify what I did, but if not for this horrible stomach flu, it would've worked out just fine. You've been having such a hard time. I just wanted to do what I thought was best for you."
Sasuke shook his head.
"What's best for me? You need to think about yourself. Your worst flaw is that you never do that."
"But Sasuke, you're still young. You need a father, or someone to take care of you. I'll be fine. I-"
"No. No, you won't," Sasuke interrupted, and ever so slightly, his voice quivered. Sasuke wasn't one for histrionics. But given the situation, his emotions spoke much more loudly. He was so sick of hearing those three words from Itachi: I'll be fine. They meant nothing to him now.
"Look around us! You were so busy thinking about me and about all of your responsibilities that you ended up here. You live your life for other people, for me. What about you! I can take care of myself. Be selfish. Do something just because you enjoy it. I want to see you happy."
Sasuke was well aware that he wasn't any smarter or wiser than Itachi – not by a longshot. He wasn't one to give people life advice, but he felt as though this was sorely needed. His brother constantly sacrificed, slaving to meet his own responsibilities and spreading himself far too thin. He wanted to be the best guardian to Sasuke that he could possibly be.
How many times had Sasuke watched Itachi try to force a smile after spending every waking hour that day working? How many times had Sasuke watched him suppress tears because he wanted to be strong for others? Even before their parents had died, Itachi neglected his own needs to live up to his family's expectations and test his limits. Days ago, Itachi had almost died, but to Sasuke it sometimes seemed that Itachi had hardly been living at all.
"Are you happy?" Sasuke asked, his eyes lingering on the IV in Itachi's hand.
He could count the number of moments he'd had like this with his brother on one hand. In fact, Sasuke rarely got into such conversations at all. Everyone had emotions, and there was generally no need to discuss them. He'd been like his father in those regards. Yet life lately seemed to push him into all sorts of unexpected situations.
"I have been sometimes," Itachi responded, forcing a smile with pale lips. "But… It's rather exhausting to keep it up."
Sasuke stared towards the ground. Was his brother suffering? Over the past year, he'd seldom thought to ask. Sasuke knew that he himself was suffering. That was enough to occupy his thoughts. Itachi quickly noted Sasuke's change of demeanor.
"You know, I haven't been in law school very long. I've really been too busy to make many friends or indulge in many hobbies, though I did go on that ski trip last winter. I haven't had a girlfriend since junior year of undergrad," Itachi stated with a chuckle. "But you're here. When I am happy, you're the reason why."
Sasuke nodded quietly, giving his brother a slight smile.
"We'll have to work on that."
"That's all happiness ever is, Sasuke," Itachi responded, a yawn threatening to deter his speech. "A work in progress."
"Maybe we're just at the preliminary stages, hm?"
"Yeah," Itachi smiled. His eyes were beginning to droop, and his energy was obviously waning. "Maybe so."

Sasuke left the hospital soon after. He knew that Itachi wouldn't let himself sleep as long as Sasuke was there to keep him company, despite how obviously tired the man was. As much as he wanted to linger, leaving for the day was probably better for both of them. Sasuke raised his hood over his hair, protecting his bare neck from the chill of the December air. His uncomfortably cold nose kept running. He'd reach Eighth and C any time now. Sasuke wasn't looking forward to tonight, his bored fingers toying at the fuzz around his sleeves.
Sasuke couldn't pass up four hundred dollars. Even though Itachi was having his surgery, he'd of course need a follow up, and then aftercare. He was taking a risk here, but this was nothing compared to the risk his brother had taken for the same purpose. Besides, it's not as if this situation were too dire. He was just supervising some business, meeting some guy he cared nothing about, and going on his way.
Kabuto leaned against a stop sign, taking a deep drag as he noticed Sasuke and cast him a curt nod. Sections of bare skin showed around his tank top and grey jacket. As soon as he approached the stop sign, Kabuto cocked his head to the left and motioned for Sasuke to follow him.
"You're late, Uchiha. We value punctuality in this business."
Sasuke arched his brow and gave his cell phone another peek. He could've sworn he'd budgeted precisely enough time to arrive.
"No, you're early."
Kabuto snickered, pushing Sasuke's shoulder.
"I'm just messing with you. Relax."
Sasuke rolled his eyes, frustrated with himself for being tricked. Kabuto did have a point, however. Sasuke's muscles were taut as a drum. He wasn't nervous; he was just fully alert and exercising due precaution. Kabuto extended a carton of Pall Mall's to Sasuke, who gladly accepted the cigarette and the matches. The soft roar of the newly lit match joined the patter of their sneakers on the sidewalk and a distant siren. Sasuke took a couple quick puffs and shook the match off.
They passed a discount store that had long ago been condemned and several wide fields, full of weeds and briars. Sasuke inhaled the nicotine deeply, holding the heat in his lungs as he felt his body relax. Neither spoke, puffing at their cigarettes as their surroundings grew increasingly questionable. The night's chill had made the air seem so clear, and he was sure his front yard would be frosted next morning. The stars above them glowed brightly, as many buildings were vacated and thus provided no light. Sasuke stole a glance from time to time. What he wouldn't give to be home with a telescope rather than here.
"What are you picking up here?"
Kabuto stalled before answering, slowly exhaling a billow of smoke.
"It's harder stuff. Orochimaru both cooks and sells."
Sasuke perked a brow. He knew that this wasn't prescription medication and weed. This was something worse, but what exactly, he didn't know.
"I'm aware of that. I was asking for specifics."
Kabuto shook his head.
"Sasuke, there's no need for these questions. Just stand there, be cool, and learn."
The raven grunted. He was slightly tempted to drop the question. He didn't want to know exactly what they were doing. It remained so much more abstract and comfortable when the details weren't considered, but there was no turning a blind eye to it.
"I deserve to know what I'm walking into."
He didn't like how cagey Kabuto was being about this. It struck him as suspicious, but then again, Kabuto was always suspicious. Sasuke would have to think on his feet. Kabuto seemed to mull the matter over before responding.
"Twack 'n crack."
Crack cocaine and methamphetamines. Sasuke had heard Kabuto and a few seniors use these terms in hypothetical conversation, dryly joking or making references. He'd pieced together what the words meant long before tonight. Sasuke kept his expression constant as they moved, now even gladder for the cigarette in his hand.
He'd never seen either of these substances in his life. Did Kabuto use them himself? Yet what else had Sasuke expected? Honestly, given the things he'd seen out of his periphery at parties and his knowledge of such things, his first guess had been cocaine. Regardless, hearing the actual names unsettled him. His desire to get this over with competed with his desire to never step foot in that door, but his legs kept pace.
"How many people will be there?"
Kabuto shook his head.
"Can't be more than five or six. Oro's guys just kind of lag around there. But that's why you're here."
Sasuke nodded in response, his palms slightly sweaty. They were nearing a set of apartment complexes, a short, barred window facing them on the sidewalk.
"This is the place. Orochimaru's unit is up those stairs."
They had about four flights to go. The gap between each of the short steps was dramatic, each step a simple concrete slab. The narrow rail was a burnt red color, disrupted by the occasional paint chip. Sasuke grasped the railing as he climbed the stairs, now aware of every sensation. He felt a loose piece of paint dig into his palm, quickly moving his hand before it broke the skin. His knees ached with each step, his entire body a little more sensitive due to his lingering sickness. He heard his breath clearly.
The door loomed closer and closer. What was behind it? Who were these people? How did these sorts of things work? How long would it take? He'd be thrilled for a five minute exchange. Here's the drugs, here's the money, thank you and goodbye. The sooner he could leave, the better. Yet he doubted he was getting paid four hundred dollars for something so simple. Why was Kabuto paying him so much? Would this be an incentive for something in the future? Why were Kabuto's answers to his questions so vague?
They had finished their ascent, waiting at Orochimaru's door. This was it. Up until now, it was just weed and pills. He'd sold to high school and college students, most of which were still in their teens. There was hearty laughter and an occasional shout issuing from the room, and he heard something about "that bitch had it fuckin' coming to her." He could not determine how many different voices he was hearing. This would be an experience; he could say this much for sure.
Kabuto knocked on the door four times, a syncopated and obviously intentional rhythm timing each rap. Suddenly, there was total silence behind that door. Footsteps approached resolutely. There was no turning back now; Sasuke had committed himself. They came nearer and nearer. Sasuke's feet seemed to fasten to the ground. The person on the other side could've only been a few feet away. Kabuto grabbed Sasuke's forearm, turning his hand over and placing a heavy object in Sasuke's hand. Kabuto quickly released it, and triggered by natural reflex, Sasuke accepted.
"Just in case," Kabuto whispered.
The sophomore had been so distracted by the situation that the item's change in hands had been no difficult task for Kabuto. Suddenly, Sasuke's chest felt every bit as cold as the lethal metal in his palm. It was a gun.
"Safety's on. Be cool."
The doorknob was turning just as Sasuke processed this data. He was running out of time, with only seconds to spare. He stuffed the handgun in his jacket's inner pocket and did a fantastic impression of boredom and indifference. After all, what would happen to him if Orochimaru saw the gun? There was no time for discussion, no time for questions. The dark night was illuminated as the door opened. Showtime.
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Soup's On