Author: Rasengan22

Note: Angst. Giftfic for Evanlily on DeviantArt.

The lights are dim, filtering through a deep sapphire glass lampshade hanging from the bar’s ceiling. The effect leaves a sphere of opaque blue on top of the polished wood, like a water stain. Naruto stares at it. In a daze. It’s 7 p.m., and he’s snatched a precious few minutes away from work to have a single cigarette and a glass of very dry red wine. Music blares from somewhere. Not a jukebox, but speakers hidden tastefully away near the ceiling. A female’s voice, the mellow, soothing jazzy sound of her British accent lulling Naruto into a placid calm without realizing the change in mood. There are many customers, but their presence blurs into the background. They're background noise. They are scenery. No different than the tables and chairs, the framed photographs and paraphernalia on the walls.

The fingers of Naruto’s left hand curl around the circular base of his wine glass. They brush gently over its curved surface. Naruto is thinking about something that has made this gesture seem so tender. To be more specific, he’s thinking of someone. His thoughts drift to his cell phone that is tucked away inside a breast pocket on the underside of his black trench coat now crumpled in a heap on the adjacent seat. The edge of Naruto’s lip curls downward into a slight, pensive frown. The male bartender in his pin-striped black and white vest blurs by. Naruto blinks, self-consciously glancing around. He becomes aware that even more people are sitting around the bar than when he first came in. The dinner crowd. The air reeks of cigarette smoke. Naruto brings his up to his lips. Before he can suck the smoke in, he licks behind his bottom lip. Curling his tongue, he licks along the top lip. He stops half way to the other corner and pauses, his blue eyes glazing over. From the light, from the smoke. Maybe both.

With nearly a sigh, he closes his lips around the cigarette, smothering the white paper, tasting the tobacco before his lungs have a chance to vacuum it into his body. Naruto drops his head, thinking of that person again. Thinking of his phone. But this is calming. Sitting right here, drinking his wine and having a cigarette. If he calls, they’ll fight. They always fight, and he doesn’t want to have to go back to work, replaying the conversation they’re likely to have over and over in his head as he crunches numbers. It’s not like he enjoys working late nights, working overtime. Does Sasuke think they could afford their apartment otherwise? Live in the center of the city and still keep the lifestyle they’ve become accustomed to?

For weeks, they’ve done nothing but fight. It’s winter. Snow marks the curbs of the street like crunchy, compact cotton candy. White lights are whimsically wrapped around the trees outside the decorated storefronts. The weather has the tendency to keep them trapped inside their apartment. Too much time together and not enough time apart, but being apart from him… is…

Naruto exhales. The brand of cigarettes he smokes have no taste other than that of smoke, of ash. He likes things to be simple and straight-forward. Naruto drinks his coffee black. This is no coincidence. His eyes fall upon the translucent blue ring that hovers above the wood. Like a crop circle, he thinks, bemused. This thought causes his lip to curl in the opposite direction. A smirk. He shifts and leans away from the bar, pushes the wine glass away from him in sync with pushing away his disconcerting thoughts. He switches the cigarette to his left hand and drops his right arm, his elbow coming to rest at his side. The action causes a quiet shifting noise thanks to the crumpling of his starched, pressed fabric of his white button down shirt. Naruto lifts his weight off the chair enough to dig his right hand into the back pocket of his black trousers so he can find his wallet and pay. He stares at the ashtray, suddenly distracted. It’s copper. This strikes him as an unusual detail he hadn’t observed previously. He and Sasuke come to this bar often. He’s left wondering if it’s true he’s been oblivious or maybe the business has replaced the old ones without him noticing. The pause in thought lasts five seconds before Naruto realizes the triviality of his worries. He also becomes aware he's consciously avoiding other things he'd rather not think about. Brooding, Naruto stands and stretches, rotating his shoulder until the joint cracks. The glass of wine was 7.50. He leaves a ten. His father always tipped at least 20 percent. Naruto makes a point of tipping more if he can help it. His dad was a jerk that used to beat the shit out of him with a brown, leather belt and blamed him for the fact that his mother ran away with another man.

Naruto believes this is his fault also, but he never says it aloud to anyone. He doesn't want their pity. Rather, he buries it where all the other dark secrets and childhood complexes hang around in the back of his mind, playing poker in some smoky, seedy corner.

He picks up his trench coat absently. The remnants of his squashed cigarette waft skyward, toward that sapphire light fixture above him. Once the coat is on, he adjusts the collar though there’s nothing particularly askew about it. To his right, there is a raised platform stage. It’s too early for a performance. A black, baby grand piano sits obtrusively on the right side of the stage; an old-style microphone stand glints like shiny polished chrome in front of it. As he glances that way, staring at the piano, Naruto has flashes of times he and Sasuke came here. When someone was playing solo. Or a band. All those times he came with Sasuke. They didn’t always notice the music. It was pushed to the background. Background noise to their snipes and insults, words of affection, and even their silences.

His thoughts stop abruptly, sliced through completely by a mental guillotine. He buttons his long coat as he begins walking toward the exit, headlights occasionally causing glare through the several wide front windows. Someone’s already moving to shut those blinds, to keep the inside warm. Keep the customers happy. The lighting in the bar dims further. It’s that time of the evening. But Naruto has to get back to work, having been left alone on an account that would normally take two CPAs. He should call Sasuke first. His boyfriend is going to be mad that he's going to be late again. This is why he doesn’t want to make that call. Doesn’t want to fight because there’s nothing about it he can do.

Naruto is outside. It’s cold, but there’s no wind. People are walking, carrying various brand-name shopping bags. He steps on to the curb and holds out his hand automatically, hailing an oncoming cab. The taxi changes two lanes, nearly cutting off three cars as it races to pick up its next paying customer. Naruto doesn’t notice, he's digging into the breast pocket of his coat. He opens the cab’s back door on the driver’s side the same time as he's taking out his cell phone. He sits down heavily, giving the cabbie his work address. The driver is talking into a headset. Naruto holds the phone for fifteen, twenty seconds before he flips it open. He’s still staring out the window, his gloved hand rubbing the side of the little piece of plastic technology. It skims over the number buttons before his gaze drops and he hits the 1 button. It’s their apartment number. Sasuke rarely answers his cell. Rarely has it on him. He’s holding his breath, but realizes this and exhales easily while watching the passing scenery. The people. The other cars as they break at a red light.

Just before the fourth ring, the apartment phone is picked up. Sasuke rarely speaks first. Naruto initiates the conversation.

“Hey,” he says, lowers his voice so as to keep their conversation private from the driver, who isn’t paying attention anyway.

Still, there’s a softness, a gentle intimacy that melts into his voice. It’s smooth. Like a luxurious chocolate candy. This is Sasuke he’s calling. Sasuke is his boyfriend. Sasuke is his lover. Even if he wants to, Naruto can't restrain that tone. Soon they’ll be raising their voices, the lingering nostalgic affection broken because of an intrinsic fear they both have. They both know each one has it, but neither wants to talk about it. So this is what they do. They’ll fight. Naruto will go to work. Sasuke will have one more reason to hate him. Naruto will have one more reason to fear Sasuke will leave him soon. For someone who has more money or is better looking. Who has the time to shower Sasuke with all the attention he deserves. Sasuke deserves more than Naruto fathoms exists in the world. This fact settles somewhere deep inside Naruto. Near his stomach. When he’s in his forties, he’ll no doubt have ulcers and lung cancer.

Sasuke, he hopes… Naruto hopes Sasuke will forgive him.

They’re still arguing on the phone. It’s embarrassing for Naruto when he has to pay the cabbie while alternately screaming into the receiver. Or well, to be more accurate, they haven’t quite reached the screaming stage. Just raised voices. Sasuke has already made two bitter, sarcastic, spiteful comments that have hurt Naruto’s feelings. This is nothing new. Sasuke knows how to hit him where it hurts. Naruto ends up slamming the taxi door harder than necessary as he steps onto the curb and the uneven pavement. He gives a hasty glance upward, noticing how few lights are on in his building. No one wants to work late. No doubt there are several good reasons for this. Including how it’s detrimental to relationships.

“What do you want me to do?” Naruto asks in low, warning tones, desperate rage ready to seep into every syllable.

Sasuke remains silent. It’s not a comfortable silence. It’s nerve-wracking and hostile, like waiting for a bomb to explode when the time of detonation is ticking down from ten. Naruto begins walking to the glass doors, tall green plants in heavy cemented pots on either side of the entrance. They’re real, not fake. He’s met the middle-aged Mexican woman whose job it is to water them. She comes early in the morning. He knows she has two children. One’s name is Maria, and he wants to say the son’s name is Roberto. His leather gloved hand is already gripping the brass door handle when he remembers he has to swipe his security card first. He huffs impatiently.

“It’s fine,” Sasuke responds, thinking Naruto's huff is directed toward him. His tone is biting and short. It most definitely is not fine.

Naruto grits his teeth, his jaw clamping down at the same time as his eyes shut. He pulls his card out of his pocket and waves it in front of the sensor. The door beeps, unlocks, and Naruto opens it the slightest bit.

“Can we..?” Naruto sighs, is too exasperated to finish his question because he realizes it’s what he always says at the peak of his frustration with Sasuke.

“Can we what?” Sasuke asks impatiently, his tone antagonistic. He never makes anything easy for Naruto. Naruto both loves this and hates it. At the moment, he hates it. Loathes it. Loves Sasuke, but loathes these conversations.

Naruto pauses. He takes in a deep breath, swallowing a piece of wind that slides like a partially melted ice cube down his throat. He rubs his forehead, swings open the door and steps into the dimly-lit lobby. Past the leather furniture, more potted plants. Beyond the two receptionists’ desks crammed with family photos there is another glass door he must use his security card to get through.

“What are you doing?” Sasuke gruffly asks after having remained silent the 45 seconds it took Naruto to walk from the lobby to the elevator.

“I’m getting into the elevator,” Naruto answers absently, shoving his card and hand into his coat pocket. He’s staring at the elevator doors like they offended him. He notices his muscles are tense. His hand is clenched in a fist inside his pocket. He purposely wiggles the fingers as if it will relieve all his tension problems.

“Well when do you think you might be home?” Sasuke inquires. Naruto thinks his boyfriend is attempting to be casual, aloof. Like maybe he’s watching something on television, and so he’s not giving his full attention. Naruto somehow doubts this. Sasuke's probably in their bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into that mahogany-lacquered mirror they impulsively bought from an antique dealer on a trip to Provincetown, Massachusetts. This is the trip where the two of them decided to live together.

The elevator door opens with a dull ding. It’s empty obviously. Naruto steps in. It doesn’t seem to affect the connection of his phone. He hits the button for the 23rd floor. Naruto looks down at his watch and realizes he forgot to put it on this morning. He pulls the phone away from his ear to see what time it is. It changes to 7:31 while he’s looking at it.

“Eleven,” Naruto answers. “Probably 11.”

The line is silent. The elevator dings at each floor. The numbers seem to tick by slowly.

Naruto holds his breath. He suddenly feels tired and hot. He briefly contemplates saying fuck it and just going home to be with his boyfriend who is angry he hasn’t been around lately. But. Naruto isn’t a kid anymore. He can’t just shirk his responsibilities on a whim. If Sasuke cared, Sasuke would be patient. Sasuke is not patient, but Naruto still thinks he cares.

“Are you pissed?” Naruto asks at the 19th floor.

“What do you think?” Sasuke responds flatly.

This conversation is going nowhere. Sasuke has won, and Naruto has lost. There’s nothing more he can do here except make it worse. His tail, if he had one, would be wagging pitifully between his legs. Don’t leave me. That fear rears inside his head like a doomsday prophecy; it is wedged deep inside his heart. It’s cold, like the bit of frigid air he swallowed earlier except it doesn’t go away. It’s like the opposite of heartburn.

“I…” Naruto begins, but stops when the elevator doors open to his floor. Most of the overhead lights are off. He can see the glow of his tiny, metal desk lamp from here. It’s like a beacon calling him home. Except this is not his home. His home is at his apartment with Sasuke.

“You what?” Sasuke asks bitterly.

“I’ll be home at 11,” Naruto repeats. He wants to apologize because it might make everything better, but he’s stubborn. He believes he’s done nothing wrong. He bites his tongue, attempting to stop the mutinous apology from leaving his mouth.

“Whatever,” Sasuke says, dismissing him entirely. This conversation is over.

“Do you…” Naruto’s gaze lifts, staring across the room at the back wall where the Xerox copier is. “Do you want me to pick anything up?” The look on his face is hopeful. The skin under his eyes is dark and puffy. He hasn’t slept well lately because his schedule has become so erratic. Somehow, the wrinkles near his eyes and along his forehead appear deeper. It could be the shadows created by the poor lighting.

“Milk,” Sasuke says. Naruto feels relief. He can stop at the convenience store near their neighborhood on the way with no problem. It’s open 24/7.

“Okay,” Naruto says. His mouth is set in a thin line, not a smile. The tension he’s feeling is written in the fine lines at the corners of his mouth. He shrugs his shoulder, and his jacket begins edging off. Naruto catches it with his free hand.

“Eleven,” Sasuke says. It’s not a warning, per se, but it is something. It’s a contract between them, and if Naruto fails to meet its agreements, there will be consequences.

Naruto nods. “Eleven. I’ll bring milk.”

“Bye, Naruto.”

Naruto bites his bottom lip uneasily, starting at the left side and grating his teeth over until he’s reached the right side, canines digging in with a sharp pinch.

“Bye,” he says, waits, pulls the phone away from his ear and then presses the End button down with his thumb. The jacket is folded over his arm. He’s in the middle of the office, surrounded on either side by drab-colored cubicles. Traffic bleats from the street. This is his soundtrack for the next few hours. The one row of lights remaining on is directly above his head. It casts an orange glow on him like a tacky spotlight as if it’s a scene that has just come to a dramatic conclusion. The light should fade out altogether, leaving Naruto in the dark. But the machines continue to whir. The computers. The phones. The fax machines.

Naruto bows his head, waiting for something he knows is not going to happen. When that nothing continues to happen, he lifts his chin, his eyes panning the room. He moves slowly toward his desk, the little lamp greeting him like a loyal dog. He sits, his swivel chair squeaking under the weight. He dumps his coat on a metal filing cabinet and grabs the mouse after pulling off his gloves. His computer screen flickers as if waking from a long nap.

He’s already forgotten he should buy milk; all he’s thinking is Eleven Eleven Eleven.

Naruto curses as he stares at the plastic door. Behind it are gallons and half-gallons of milk with shiny blue and red caps. He completely forgot about having to buy some. He also left the office later than expected. He heaves the door open, grabs the first 1 percent gallon of milk he sees. He tips the jug forward, studying the expiration date labeled in tiny, squiggly black type. Naruto lugs it off its white metal shelf. He is the only one in the store besides the cashier, who is black and looks to be around Naruto’s age.

Agitatedly, he glances at a clock on one of the walls. It’s 11:21. Had he not gone back for the milk, he might have made it home on time, but it had felt important he remember the milk simply because he said he would pick it up. Near the counter, three hot dogs are rotating on a metal contraption, having been cooking so long they no longer sizzle. Likely, they’ve been there all day. Seeing them reminds Naruto he hasn’t eaten since lunch, but the idea of junk food doesn’t agree with his unsettled stomach.

Sasuke is going to kill him. Part of him hopes maybe his boyfriend has fallen asleep and won’t notice. The likelihood of this is as close to zero as it can get, but that doesn’t prevent Naruto from wanting it to be true.

The cashier is a relatively friendly guy, one Naruto has never seen working here before. His skin is very dark. He has a thick African accent, and there is a wedding band on his ring finger. A spot on his left eyebrow looks like it has been shaved off, leaving a zigzag-shaped scar that is slick and pale against his skin. His nametag reads: Bohlale. Naruto has no idea what it means or how to pronounce it. He pays him in cash, thanks him and wishes the man a good night, a genuine smile on his lips for the first time that evening.

On autopilot, he has made his way up to their floor. Naruto knows it’s his apartment as he stands timidly outside the door, afraid to enter. He turns the knob, still holding the plastic bag containing the milk. He squeezes the flimsy handles in his left hand and slides like a cat burglar into the room. He lets the door shut quietly behind him. They own a two bedroom flat. Naruto doesn’t use the guest bedroom when they fight. He uses the couch. The second bedroom is for family members and friends. He is not a guest, he lives here. The couch is likely where he’ll have to sleep tonight.

There are three lights on in the living room. A taller, brass lamp that stands between their new leather couch and the espresso-colored wall. There are two matching brass sconces on either side of their fireplace they never use. These are turned on to a pleasant dim. Their flat screen television is the focal point of the room, their furniture directed toward it. All the remote controls to their various electronic devices are neatly aligned on the entertainment center. It’s obvious Naruto was not the last one to use the TV. The mantle over the fireplace is home to several photographs. Two of them are of he and Sasuke. Three more are of them and their friends. One is of Sasuke’s father, who passed away last year of a heart attack. There is another black and white photo of Naruto with his mother when he was little. For Naruto’s 22nd birthday, Sasuke found that picture in a tattered shoebox and blew it up for him. This is the first time Naruto cried because of a gift. It is the first time he cried in front of Sasuke.

The kitchen is attached to the living area, filled with all kinds of new, stainless steel appliances. Surprisingly, it is Sasuke who does most of the cooking. Naruto is rarely there to eat any of these meals. Often, his breakfast consists of coffee and toast. His lunch is whatever sandwich place his co-workers decide to order from that day. His dinner lately has been that of alcohol and cigarettes.

Naruto is hesitant. He hangs around the entrance to the darkened kitchen like a scolded child. The only light on in there is one above the stove. He feels guilty. There are no sounds in the apartment to indicate Sasuke is awake. Naruto notices he still has his dress shoes on. He's tracked a bit of snow onto their hardwood floors. He slips them off, toeing the heel of each shiny, black loafer. He bends over and sets them near the front door, alongside a dusty brown doormat. Naruto bites his lip, remembers the milk he’s still holding. Cautiously, he enters the kitchen. There is the lingering scent of something that smells delicious in the air. He still hasn’t eaten yet tonight. The milk is taken out of the bag and put into their refrigerator. The ice machine makes a sound, cubes jumbling together. He shuts the door quietly. There is a picture of a three-legged dog attached to the refrigerator by way of a magnet bought on a visit to the Vancouver aquarium.

Naruto stares at the scruffy, amputated dog, his hand still holding the curved handle. This is a dog Naruto talked Sasuke into fostering for two months until it got adopted. His name was Ringo. While he lived with Sasuke and Naruto, they called him Starbuck because Sasuke had been reading Moby Dick at the time. Naruto has procrastinated long enough. He releases the handle, which has acted as some kind of lifeline during the few minutes he’s been standing there stalling. In his black trouser socks, he slides across the floor to the doorway and stops. He gives one look around the room and straightens. Remembers his age. Remembers he’s a man and should act like one. As he walks, he unloosens his tie. He hasn’t taken off his jacket yet either.

A hallway leads to their two bedrooms. Along the way he passes a half-bath. Their bedroom door is partially closed. There is no light bleeding out from underneath it. Naruto sighs in relief. Sasuke has likely fallen asleep. Naruto can sneak in, take a shower, get in his pajamas and slip under the covers. He smiles and splays his fingers against the door as he pushes it open. It’s dark. He wriggles out of his jacket and drops it on the chair he knows is there. Their bedroom has plush, short, shaggy carpeting that massages the aching soles of his feet. He carefully feels around on the floor so as not to trip over anything. Naruto wouldn’t put it past Sasuke to leave something lethal on the carpet that would cause him to fall and break his neck. The path is clear. He makes it to their shared bath without killing himself. He flips the light on, his thumb still hooked under the switch. He stops, turns slightly and looks over his shoulder. The bathroom light falls in the shape of an arch across the carpet and the foot of the bed.

Sasuke isn’t in it.

The hunter green, burgundy and white striped comforter is neatly laid out over their bed, which is still made. The matching shams and pillows are piled up at the head of the bed. Naruto’s heart skips a beat or two, his stomach dropping like he’s just plummeted down the steepest drop of one of the world’s largest, most frightening roller coasters. This is not good his brain supplies unnecessarily.

Sasuke is not here.

Naruto’s smile, the one he had in place when he had been hoping to see his boyfriend underneath the covers of their bed, still remains, but it has become strained. Fear twinkles in the depths of his eyes. He swipes a hand through his hair out of nervousness. It feels cloying from where the snow fell atop his head, wetting the natural blond strands. The strained smile turns into a deep frown. He stays another thirty seconds in the doorway, staring at the empty bed, then pads over to the chair where he placed his coat. Naruto fumbles around for his phone. His hands are trembling. He’s frightened and angry at the same time. He’s not sure which is the cause for the other.

Once found, the cell is flicked open with an audible smack. The hinges aren’t used to the abusive handling. Naruto hits the speed dial for Sasuke’s phone. He is aware Sasuke isn't likely to answer it, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He imagines Sasuke having gone to one of their friend's to stay the night. Maybe he went to a hotel. Maybe he’s walking around outside. It doesn’t occur to Naruto that Sasuke might be looking for him; this isn’t factored into any of his conclusions. Maybe Sasuke thought Naruto would forget the milk and went to get it himself. This, to Naruto, seems the least plausible of all the scenarios. His heart is beating fast, as if he just downed a large caffeinated drink. His palms are sweaty. The phone is ringing. Naruto sits on the edge of the bed, the comforter bunching and wrinkling underneath him. One of the decorative, tasseled throw pillows falls forward at the disruption.

It sounds like Sasuke picks up the phone. Naruto opens his mouth to speak then the phone cuts off. Sasuke has hung up on him. Naruto calls back and is greeted with Sasuke’s voicemail.

The bathroom light pours out onto the carpet. Part of it reaches the side of Naruto’s leg and half of the top of his thigh where his hand is resting, fingers curled against his wide palm. The other hand is holding the phone, which remains open. The bright background photo glows for seven seconds before it darkens again. Naruto lowers his head in thought; his brow furrowing deeply in concentration. Naruto stands, shoves his phone in his pants’ pocket. The bathroom light is left on. Naruto picks up his coat and slips it on. Noiselessly he walks through the living room and slips his shoes on. His keys jingle in the pocket of his trench coat. He locks the apartment door, expression serious, one of foreboding. He’s not even sure the exact emotion he’s feeling presently. The elevator doors slide open in a welcoming fashion, oblivious to his troubles. Somehow, Naruto knows where to go. It can’t be explained. Living with someone for so long, loving them for so long. Knowing them for so long. Sometimes things just click. The fear is still there, fluttering in the back of his mind in beat with the jittery rhythm of a hummingbird’s wings. He can feel his blood as it pulses at the edge of his fingertips and under the nail beds. Anger has won out over the fear. Naruto exits the complex, passing by someone he knows lives on the floor below him, but he doesn’t bother to say hello. He pushes open the door with enough force that it slams shut behind him. The air is chill. There is a harsh wind that assaults the side of his face as soon as he is outside. He shoves his hands into his pockets, heading in the direction of the bar he went to earlier. Something tells him Sasuke will be there. Naruto doesn’t feel like groveling. He doesn’t like fighting with Sasuke, but there are things he wants to say to him. He wants certain things to be made clear. He is determined to make Sasuke understand this no matter what.

A puff of cold mist escapes Naruto’s mouth as he crosses an empty street. Most of the shops are closed, their festively decorated windows darkened. It’s a weeknight. Most people should be in bed by now. Naruto is tired also, but he won’t be able to sleep until he knows where Sasuke is. Even if he’s mad, he still cares enough to make sure he's safe. Without Sasuke, there is nothing for him. No reason to work. No reason to sleep. When he finds him, then his thoughts can return to normal. Then he can be calm enough to relax.

The bar isn’t as crowded as earlier in the evening. A few of the round tables are occupied. A woman in a long, black velvety strapless dress is playing a subtle, melancholy tune on the piano. No one is looking at her. Even Naruto gives her only a cursory glance. His cheeks are red from the wind. In his haste, he forgot to put his gloves on though they are buried at the bottom of his coat pockets. Five people are sitting at the stools surrounding the bar. Two of them are drinking beer out of bottles while watching the highlights of a college basketball game that played earlier today.

Naruto shuffles in, past the empty hostess stand. He doesn’t need to be seated. A single person sits at the very edge of the bar where it wraps around the side. A newspaper is laid out in front of him, and he is holding a cigar in his right hand. The bartender is the same one as before. No one seems to notice Naruto though he’s practically standing in the middle of the room, eyes riveted to the remaining two people at the bar. One of them is Sasuke. He knows this instantly. Yes, the spiky, wild black hair is familiar, but Naruto can always sense when Sasuke is in the same room. A prickling sensation, raw and confusing winds up his spine as if he’s been stung. Sasuke is smiling. There is a man next to Sasuke, leaning in too close for Naruto to deem this posture as merely friendly. Naruto’s hands form fists at his sides. Abruptly, the song coming from the piano picks up in beat as if mocking him.

Naruto takes another step forward and halts. Two women are sitting at the table he’s standing by. They look up at him and exchange glances between themselves before going back to drinking what appear to be chocolate martinis sprinkled with flakes of dark cocoa.

The man sitting next to Sasuke does not look familiar. He’s obviously hitting on Naruto’s boyfriend. Sasuke is not telling him to move away. Sasuke is the type to be greatly annoyed when his personal space is invaded. Naruto sucks his tongue in displeasure, slides it across his molars and then sucks on the inside of his right cheek. He walks toward the bar. They’re sitting right where everyone can see them. The piano continues to dish out a tune that sounds more like Ragtime than the soothing kind of music one would expect at a bar like this at this time of night. Naruto’s hands are still balled as he stiffly strolls up behind the two men. No part of their bodies are touching, but the stranger's is turned toward Sasuke, his elbow resting on the bar. Sasuke has one hand in his own lap. His other arm is leaning on the bar, his fingers spinning a bottle of beer that looks to be almost empty. It makes Naruto wonder how long Sasuke has been here.

Naruto swallows. “Sasuke,” he says, unable to hide the angry tremor from his voice.

The other man, the one Naruto does not know, turns to him. He has the audacity to look annoyed. Naruto doesn’t even bother to look at him. Sasuke says nothing, and Naruto lets out an irritated exhalation of breath. The other man begins to look uneasy. He glances at Naruto and then at Sasuke, waiting for some kind of signal.

“You know this guy?” The man asks Sasuke. He has shaggy, reddish-auburn hair. There is a bit of stubble on his face. He appears to be several years older than them both. Naruto, though irate, has the time to categorize him as handsome. It’s not at the forefront of his thoughts, but a quick observation he makes.

Would he leave me for him? His insecurities are given a voice, given fuel.

Sasuke fails to say anything. He still has his back turned to Naruto, and Naruto cannot see his face.

“Would you like to tell him who I am, or would you like me to?” Naruto asks. At his caustic tone, the bartender glances up, as does the man with the newspaper, though he immediately goes back to scanning it. The bartender purposely moves to the other side of the bar.

The stranger looks at Sasuke one last time, obviously feeling awkward. “I’m sorry… should I… leave?”

Naruto glances at the man briefly, still glaring. His anger is directed more at Sasuke than the man, but he can’t deny the jealousy he feels. It's sparking and igniting in the pit of his stomach, the flames of his irritation causing the muscles in his abdomen to tighten with the stress. He grits his teeth as Sasuke remains indifferent, impassive. Does not explain. Does not vocally acknowledge to this person that he is Naruto’s. That Naruto is his boyfriend, the man who loves him, who fucks him, who has been through so much countless shit with him. This man knows nothing about Sasuke. He thinks Sasuke is a handsome face and a fit body. He doesn’t know Sasuke like Naruto does. Doesn’t know how much energy it takes to keep Sasuke satisfied and happy enough to stay at his side.

He knows nothing.

Naruto is seeing red. An understatement. If the man speaks again, Naruto will punch him in the face, even though he thinks the stranger is being reasonable. When Sasuke is not reasonable, Naruto also becomes unreasonable. That’s what always makes their fighting so unfortunate. Sasuke’s moods always rub off on Naruto, absorbed through his skin like osmosis.

The man stands and peers between Naruto and Sasuke. Finally, Sasuke tilts his head up. Naruto scowls, but Sasuke ignores him. A sad smile begins to play on Sasuke’s lips. The upbeat song on the piano turns to something somber and nostalgic.

“Hn. Call me later,” Sasuke says. He smirks, glances up at the man Naruto does not know and looks down at his drink. The man shifts his eyes to Naruto, who is not looking at him. Naruto is staring at the back of Sasuke’s head, so angry he cannot even find the words to vocalize it. The man senses the mood and leaves, not just from his seat, but from the bar. Naruto stands behind Sasuke, torn between crying and yelling. He is a man. He will not cry here, but, inside, his heart is broken in two, jagged pieces that feel as if they’re piercing his chest from inside.

Naruto grabs Sasuke’s shoulder violently and forces him to turn in his seat to acknowledge him. Apparently, even Sasuke is somewhat shocked by how pissed off Naruto is. His dark eyes widen the smallest fraction before becoming blank. This is Sasuke closing off. Naruto’s hand grips Sasuke’s arm tightly, probably hard enough to leave a bruise later on. The thought of seeing it in the morning--purple, blue and black--causes Naruto’s scowl to turn into an outright sneer.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Naruto grits as if each word is painful to deliver.

Sasuke shakes his arm out of Naruto’s grip. “Having a drink,” he answers sarcastically.

Naruto lets out a dark, unamused chuckle as he pulls his hand away from Sasuke. “Oh? And then what? That way you wouldn’t feel bad if you slept with him?”

It’s Sasuke’s turn to let slip a bitter bark of laughter. “Is that what you think, Naruto?” He turns in his seat of his own accord, staring up into Naruto’s face. Naruto’s brows are drawn together. His expression always easy to read. Every emotion Naruto feels tends to wash over his face as if his body and will are wound so tightly together it’s impossible to separate the two.

“How should I know?” Naruto grabs the back of Sasuke’s chair and leans over him. “That’s what you used to do when you needed attention, don’t you remember?”

Sasuke’s lips form a tight, impenetrable line, his eyes narrowing. The fingers surrounding his beer bottle are turning even more pale as they grip it. “Fuck. You.”

Naruto doesn’t crack a smile. Doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t do anything. He’s just looking at Sasuke with the deadliest expression Sasuke has ever seen. You have fucked up, it says. Most people would be frightened, but Sasuke remains unfazed. If Naruto didn’t know better, he’d say Sasuke enjoys doing this to him, gets a rise out of it.

Finally, Naruto smirks, and responds dryly, “Oh,” he says mockingly with a tilt of his head, “But won’t you disappoint your friend there?”

Sasuke sneers and shifts in his seat, meets Naruto’s glare easily. He’s wearing a black turtleneck and a pair of new designer blue jeans. His gray wool coat hangs from the back of his chair.

“Maybe I learned that from you?” Sasuke says, smirking. “After all, you know a lot about disappointing people, don’t you?”

“Right,” Naruto says, laughing dryly. “Turn this around so it’s my fault.”

“It is your fault,” Sasuke says, pushing his beer toward the edge of the counter.

Naruto has had enough. He’s tired of Sasuke’s mind games. He’s tired of this shit, but not enough that he would leave Sasuke. He can’t imagine anyone else he would want more than Sasuke, but there are times when he comes close. This is one of those times.

“Get your fucking coat on and let's go,” Naruto orders, steps aside and buries his hands in his pocket so as to look casual, so as not to attract attention. It’s not working. Some people are staring in their direction. At the two gay men having a lover’s spat.

Sasuke ignores him, turns his back on him.

“Listen,” Naruto sighs impatiently. “It’s been a long day for me… I’m sorry I was late, but, could we please just go back to the apartment to talk about this?”

“No. I’m not going home.”

Naruto’s shoulders, entire body stiffens. “Yes. You are,” he growls, leaving little room for discussion.

“You go. I’ll be home later.”

“Right, so I can give you more time to pick up other men?” Naruto’s hands come out of his pockets. He steps toward the chair again. An arm goes around the back of Sasuke’s chair, the other settles on the bar. He gets in Sasuke’s face and narrows his eyes. “Now Sasuke.”

Sasuke looks at him for a moment. His gaze flickers across Naruto’s face. Sasuke's expression is mostly impassive, but he appears to be considering what to do. It would be childish if he continued to argue, but he also doesn’t want to give into Naruto’s demands, that much is obvious. Naruto doesn’t care. If Sasuke doesn’t leave with him right this minute, he will change the locks in the morning.

“Fine,” Sasuke finally agrees. Before Sasuke can pay the bartender, Naruto rips out his wallet and leaves the money on the bar. Sasuke glances briefly down at the twenty. “I only had two.”

Naruto looks at him. He has the urge to punch and kiss Sasuke simultaneously. This conflict in thought is what keeps him physically still as Sasuke grunts and tugs his coat off the back of the chair while getting up. Sasuke is wearing boots. Usually they stand at the same height, but wearing those shoes, he is an inch taller than Naruto. Naruto’s hair sticks up wild and untamed because of the wind. In that moment, he looks dangerous despite his professional clothing. Sasuke looks good. In fact, he looks good enough that Naruto is leaning more toward wanting to kiss him than tackle him to the floor. Sasuke is volatile and passionate. Unpredictable. He provokes Naruto purposefully. Naruto doesn’t care. Because Sasuke is what he wants. Without him, he would crumble and never be the same.

Naruto’s expression changes as Sasuke slips into his coat and slowly pulls on his gloves. “What?” he asks as Naruto continues to stare.

Naruto raises his eyebrows. It’s too much to explain at the moment. “Nothing.” Sasuke is slow in buttoning his coat so Naruto moves to do the last two. Their faces are close. Sasuke scowls. Naruto glances up at him and smirks as he finishes. “It’s cold out,” he explains as if it makes sense.

He gives Sasuke another meaningful look before turning away. His eyes fall on the piano player and her long fingers dancing over the keys leisurely and practiced. He has the urge to grab a cigarette, but he really needs to quit. Naruto can feel Sasuke at his back as he heads to the exit. The wind is just as chilly as it was prior to him coming in. He stops outside the entrance. A lone cab passes them by, followed by a city bus carrying three people in the rear, one of which is wearing a light blue stocking cap and headphones.

Together, they walk in silence to their apartment. Naruto is still angry and brooding and hurt. Sasuke shows no signs of regret. Sometimes Naruto doesn’t know what to do with Sasuke. This lack of control over their relationship is both terrifying and exhilarating.

After the first block, Sasuke walks at his side and not behind him. Naruto sneaks a glance out of the corner of his eyes. Sasuke is staring off toward the empty street, a frown on his face. Once they reach their complex, Naruto is the one who punches in the code as Sasuke waits, breath misting out into swirling clouds. Naruto watches it with interest as he opens the door. Sasuke slips past him without a word of gratitude, his cologne tickling the hairs inside Naruto’s nose. The walk to the elevator is also quiet. It makes Naruto uncomfortable. Even when he’s angry, after a while, he still has the urge to fill the silence, but his pride overwhelms him and takes this desire to speak hostage. In the elevator, he watches the floors tick by. Sasuke’s eyes are on him. Naruto has to fight not to fidget under the gaze.

Gratifyingly, the doors slide open, their blurry, disjointed reflection evaporating right in front of their eyes. Naruto steps out when Sasuke refuses to move. Sasuke follows him shortly after. Naruto unlocks their apartment, kicks his shoes off. It’s too crowded for both of them to stand in the alcove and be able to move around. Sasuke has to unlace his boots. Naruto heads straight for their bedroom. He unfastens his jacket, setting it on the chair near the mahogany mirror. He was going to shower, but now he decides to wait until the morning. Another few minutes pass and Sasuke saunters in like nothing is wrong. He stops in the doorway just as Naruto is sitting on the side of the bed unbuttoning his shirt.

“You remembered the milk,” Sasuke says, eyes narrowed. Naruto’s fingers still for two seconds before they continue undoing the rest of the buttons. Naruto gives the smallest of smiles as he lowers his head, removes his shirt and tosses it on the chair, not caring if it gets wrinkled. He’s left in a sleeveless white undershirt. Sasuke walks over to him. Naruto keeps his gaze where it is, his tired eyes studying the lines on his palms as they lay in his lap.

“Hey,” Sasuke says and Naruto looks up with just his eyes. Naruto’s lips part, one of the corners of his mouth tremble. He looks down again. Shifts his hands so now he’s staring at the back of them. His knuckles seem large and swollen for some reason.

Sasuke sighs. He slowly kneels in front of Naruto, his arms on either side of his body. He rests his cheek near Naruto’s knee. Naruto stares down for a minute at his boyfriend’s black hair. Tentatively, he lifts a hand. He touches a spike, slides his grip to the end of it. His thumb and forefinger press together. Slowly, his hand moves down, and he rests it on top of Sasuke’s head. Sasuke lets out a sigh. Naruto gazes up at the wall across from him, at a point between a framed piece of art and the doorway. His fingers begin to slide gently through Sasuke’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Sasuke says in a quiet, almost fragile voice. Naruto doesn’t stop the movement of his hands, but he does look down again. Sasuke shifts, looks up at him. Naruto draws his hand away with the movement.

Naruto gazes at him deeply, studying the sincerity there. It’s genuine. Naruto tilts his head to the side, looking grim and yet thoughtful. Sasuke kisses his knee and grabs for Naruto’s hand. He kisses the knuckles, then rubs his cheek against Naruto's hand. The corners of Naruto’s mouth begin to pull up but not into a smile. It’s something more resilient and patient.

“Sometimes I think you enjoy this,” Naruto says suddenly, surprised he said it out loud.

“Enjoy what?” Sasuke asks, slowly standing.

“Fighting with me,” Naruto answers earnestly. He shakes his head and then slips his shirt over his head. He balls it in his hands, pauses, and then tosses it into the chair with his other clothes.

Sasuke studies him for a while before he begins tugging off his turtleneck. As it slips over his head, the static causes his hair to stand up oddly. He swipes it back into place with his left hand. Naruto glances at him, his eyes perusing his boyfriend’s pale chest, his muscled stomach. He bows his head once more, hands moving to his belt buckle, which he undoes quickly. He pulls off his trousers and lets them fall to the floor. He pushes the decorative pillows off the bed and begins pulling back the comforter and sheets. Naruto yawns, lying on his side.

By the time he sits up again to pull the covers back the rest of the way, Sasuke has retreated to the bathroom. Naruto gets up to turn off the bedroom light and returns to the bed. The sheets feel cool against his skin. The heater kicks on with a hum. Sasuke steps into the bathroom doorway, the fringes of hair framing the side of his face are wet. Naruto briefly exchanges a look with him before rolling to the side. Sasuke pauses, his hand on the light switch. He turns it off.

Naruto hugs the sheets tightly to his chest. Sasuke shifts the sheets as he pulls them back and gets in.

“Naruto…,” Sasuke says in a way Naruto knows he won’t be finishing whatever he wanted to say. Sasuke keeps his thoughts locked up in a safe. Keeps Naruto a hair’s breadth away from him. Sometimes this voluntary distance Sasuke puts between them frightens Naruto. But not tonight. He feels morose and physically exhausted.

He hears Sasuke shift and get on his side. He doesn’t touch Naruto, but Naruto feels him there, his presence warm against his back as if his body was pressed to him. Four and a half minutes pass. Neither of them are asleep. Naruto rolls over to face Sasuke. Their eyes meet. Naruto’s hand lies between their two bodies. Sasuke moves his hand and laces his fingers with Naruto’s.

Naruto can’t say the thing he wants to say. His eyes are speaking it, but he knows Sasuke won’t get it.

Don’t leave me. They say, they beg. Naruto blinks and tightens his hold on Sasuke’s fingers. Sasuke’s eyes move from side to side as if trying to figure out what Naruto is thinking.

“I love you,” Naruto says simply and honestly.

Sasuke stares at him in what seems to be an affectionate manner. There is the smallest of a squeeze to Naruto’s hand as Sasuke leans in, hesitates, and kisses Naruto’s bottom lip. He feels the nip of Sasuke’s teeth. It’s almost a placating gesture. Naruto is responsive, lets Sasuke bite his lip again and then place a kiss on his top lip. Naruto moves his hand to the back of Sasuke’s neck and pulls him in for a deeper kiss. A pale hand settles on his waist, a thumb moving up and down against his hip. Naruto sighs into the kiss, his right hand cupping Sasuke’s left cheek. Their mouths part and Naruto tilts Sasuke’s head downward until their foreheads are resting against one another.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that, right?” Naruto murmurs against the corner of Sasuke’s mouth. He feels Sasuke smirk.

“I know,” Sasuke says in deep, gruff tones. Naruto slides a hand to the back of Sasuke’s head, fingers soothingly sifting through his hair.

“Good. So long as you know.” Naruto smiles. He holds Sasuke close, the warmth of the other body in his bed so comforting and reassuring he feels like he could cry. His eyes close. The clock on their DVD player flashes midnight in pale green numbers. Neither have programmed in the proper time yet. Naruto falls asleep first, his fears having been forced into hibernation for the time being, his heart appeased by the fact his most precious person lies beside him, breathing evenly, and arms surrounding him in a gentle, sincere embrace.