Disclaimer: Not quite mine.
A/N: So, several months ago I decided I wanted to try and write NaruIta. Naruto as dominant, just to see if I could do it. I did. This was mostly because I had never seen one.
Victory is mine.
That doesn't necessarily mean this is any good.
Dedicated to The Engine Driver, because this author is my latest obsession. I'm addicted to her fics, so go read them and review them.
Also, the full version will not be found here. The link is in my profile.
Warnings: Yaoi, improbable situations, irresponsibility with alcohol, out of character-ness due to irresponsibility with alcohol... so on and so forth. Enjoy.
n. Slang pl. bar·flies
One who frequents drinking establishments.
He wasn't normally one to drink. Especially not to the point of inebriation. Yet the room tilted excessively when he cocked his head to the side. So he cocked his head to the other side to see if it had the same effect. Yep.
Had he ever been drunk before?
He didn't think so.
It seemed like he had always cut himself off. As soon as he felt the airy sensation settle over him, he stopped. It was unwise to indulge too much when one was a ninja and everywhere you visited had potential enemies.
Luckily, he had someone to look after him.
Glancing to the right, he noticed his partner passed out.
He had thought those pitchers he kept ordering were going down awfully fast.
Why hadn't he noticed?
Oh, that's right, he was drunk.
He wondered if such happenings were commonplace in such a state. Not the alcohol disappearing too quickly, well yes, that, but the missing out on key events. Like a no good deadbeat partner who is apparently a dirty thief.
No wonder the Akatsuki forbid alcohol eight hours before a mission start.
Kisame snorted slightly in his sleep.
Irritated, Itachi shoved him off the table, watching as he hit the ground like dead weight. Surprisingly, the shark man didn't rouse.
Hm… another side effect.
He'd have to try and remember that one.
Noticing that his pitcher was once again empty, he pushed himself up from his seat in the corner, steadying himself for a moment before he walked to the bar. It felt kind of like a carnival ride as he walked over, or like being on a boat. Yes, like a boat.
He felt good, though.
Why had he never done this before?
Naruto grinned to himself. He had successfully completed another high-ranked mission on his own. Since it was already past nightfall and he'd never make it back to Konoha by morning anyway, he decided to stop in a small town for the night. It was better than camping in the woods.
Said small town had a lovely array of bars, and as Jiraiya and Tsunade being two of his most prominent role models during his impressionable teenage years, he had picked up some of their relaxing habits, such as drinking.
Celebration was in order, after all. It wasn't everyday that one completed A-rank missions with so few complications. Especially alone. It was impressive, even more so that he had been doing this quite regularly. He was even given the occasional S-rank, but that always seemed to include a team. Not that he particularly minded, since it would go on his record regardless and make him an even more appealing candidate for Hokage. Which, by the way, it was starting to look like he had a shot at.
Life was good.
It was about to get better. Mostly because he had just walked into one of the selections of drinking establishments.
He was in the mood for something that burned his throat on the way down. What he really felt like was whiskey.
He had a sneaking suspicion that tonight he'd probably find it, and probably something a little more traditional, like sake, just because. He was fast becoming quite the connoisseur.
It was his ninja skills that kept him on the move, or barhopping, because staying in one place too long was dangerous, or got dull. He wasn't sure which.
Actually, it wasn't so much that it got dull as it was he knew there was somewhere more exciting to be. Like another bar.
Itachi had returned to his table, but Kisame was gone. Whether the man had come to his senses or was drug off by strangers, he didn't know. Either way, it was probably two hours ago by now. He didn't care too much, though. He cared a little, because the Akatsuki had a tendency to frown when you turned up sans a partner and no explanation to where they had gone, especially if it didn't involve any fights with enemies.
Well, it had never happened before that he was aware of, but he assumed it wouldn't be looked upon with cheer.
He was… cheerful.
He smirked. Then stopped. Then he smirked, lifting the opposite side of his mouth. If he did it in tandem, it was a smile.
Smirk, smile, smirk, smile.
He reached to pour himself some more from his pitcher, but he knocked it over, a cry of dismay escaping him. Then, with relief, he realized it had been empty and that nothing had gone to waste. Which meant it was time for a refill.
He made his way unsteadily to the bar again. He meant to just stop and stand at the bar so he could signal the bartender, but he slid sideways and bumped into someone.
"Don't… don't bump into me," Itachi said.
"I didn't, you bastard… Itachi?" the man asked, shocked.
Squinting, he looked up at the person who had spoken his name. That was when he realized he was still leaning on the man. "Naruto-kun. What are you doing here, in this place, where I am drinking?"
"I'm celebrating… in this bar."
Itachi decided that there was something off about the blonde.
"You're drunk," he accused.
"You're worse than me," Naruto said.
"No. No more. I'm cutting you off. Bartender, no more for this guy right here. He's had enough."
The bartender wasn't even listening.
Naruto looked affronted anyway. Then, as if the solution to life's troubles suddenly became clear, "Itachi, let me buy you a drink!"
This sparked a conversation and they then proceeded to solve all the world's problems, except for Sasuke.
Who, apparently, was one of the world's problems.
"It's just that, he wants to kill me, and he's revolved his… his… his entire existence around it. It makes him come off as some sort of sorry psychopath. If I try to tell him anything now, he won't listen, unless I tell him to get stronger. That's all he wants to hear."
"Maybe," Naruto began, wisdom sparking through his solemn eyes, "maybe you need to tell him to get a job."
"Or better yet, just go out and get a job for him. If he has something to focus on, other than you, he'll have something to do. If he has something to do, he'll have something else in his life, not just, you know, revenge."
"But he'll still be a sorry psychopath," Itachi pointed out.
"It's fine if he's a psychopath, but then he has to come off as sorry -he's all pathetic about it."
"Give him some tips."
"What… what are you saying, that I'm a psychopath? Is that what you're saying?"
"What I'm saying is you're a better psychopath than he is. You do a fine job. Excellent, really, I'm quite impressed."
"Thank you." Itachi had been raised with good manners.
"Where's that guy?" Naruto suddenly asked.
"You know, the one with the sword… Ki… Kisame."
"I don't know. He's not on the floor," Itachi said, referencing earlier when he had pushed Kisame off the table before Naruto arrived.
For his part, Naruto didn't even notice the seeming non sequitur, instead looking down at the floor to see for himself that Kisame wasn't there.
They fell into silence for a moment. Itachi was staring into his glass, looking as if he were thinking deeply about something. Naruto had at one point named the type 'contemplative drunk' after he had noticed there were usually a few of them in the bars he frequented. They would stare into their drink, maybe swirl it around a little, and then in profound drunken wisdom, suddenly announce a great idea or observation on life that didn't make sense to anyone but them… and other drunks.
"Hm?" he answered, not bothering to look up from his glass.
"Why are you here, anyway?"
"I wanted to get drunk."
"No… that wasn't quite intended… I wanted to drink, but I got… drunk."
"This happen often?" Naruto asked, genuinely curious.
For some reason unknown to the Uchiha, that made Naruto grin. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but his expression turned into a frown of confusion as Naruto suddenly struggled with his jacket.
"Is it warm in here? I'm hot!" the blonde announced, fumbling with his zipper before wiggling his arms out of his sleeves and just pulling it over his head. This caused his hair to be even more mussed than usual.
The Uchiha's eyes were glued to the stripping shinobi next to him, staring intensely at a sight that interested him more than it should. He suspected that this new development could develop into a serious issue the next time he tried to capture the blonde for the Akatsuki. Which, technically, should be right now.
Itachi watched as Naruto dropped his jacket onto a stool before taking another swallow from his own glass.
He had sort of expected Naruto to be wearing an orange shirt underneath, but instead it was a dark gray short sleeved shirt.
Itachi looked down at himself, noting that his own cloak had been left behind at that table in the corner. He had on the same type of navy blue shirt that he had been wearing for years, since joining the Akatsuki. A netted 'V' at the collar, the rest solid material. His shoes were held in place by stirrups, which he had always thought looked rather ridiculous, besides, it wasn't as if his feet wouldn't keep his shoes on. He had never understood the stirrups, but somehow, he had never really brought it up at any of their secret meetings.
This failing may have been because whenever they all gathered together, it was usually to go over some diabolical plans and the group fashion seemed paltry in comparison.
It may have been because of that.
It had been a while since they had any secret meetings. Maybe he should try and organize one just for the sake of having one.
"Itachi, you smell like laundry detergent."
He looked up, to find Naruto extremely close. He wasn't sure when that had happened… or how.
"You're very close to me," the Uchiha said, stating the fact, but asking it as a question at the same time. He could feel something rising in his chest that was suspiciously similar to excitement.
"You were looking at your clothes."
He wasn't sure if that was an answer to his indirect question or not.
"I wanted to see why," Naruto explained, voice dropping slightly. Apparently he needed to invade Itachi's personal space to 'see why'.
"You're not wearing orange."
"No, I'm wearing gray."
"I can see that."
"You have really white teeth. You must brush at least twice a day."
Itachi brushed after every meal. It was important to take care of one's teeth, especially when dentists were never very common out in the middle of nowhere, like where the Akatsuki headquarters were.
"You have really blue eyes."
"Yours are red, and pretty."
As far as he could recall, Itachi had never heard anyone refer to the sharingan as 'pretty'. Frightening, terrifying, yes.
"I mean it, you have really pretty eyes. I think you have longer eyelashes than Sakura."
The Akatsuki member wasn't sure if that was a compliment.
"You… smell good." Itachi wasn't quite certain why he had said that, other than that he must've thought so. To be sure, he grabbed the front of Naruto's shirt and sniffed him, the tip of his nose brushing against Naruto's neck as he lowered his head to get a decent whiff of the boy.
Yes, Naruto did smell good. Sort of like pine needles.
"I'm summer fresh," Naruto replied, his face full of Itachi's shoulder. The blonde was surprised at how warm Itachi was.
"Your hair is shiny. I like it," Naruto continued.
"Are you coming on to me?"
There was silence for a moment.
"Well… okay then."
"Let's get out of here." The Uchiha didn't miss the blatant suggestion in Naruto's voice.
It seemed very logical to the two enemy ninja that the next course of action would be obtaining a room at an inn, right after Itachi grabbed his cloak from that table in the corner.
It was upon realization that they both had rooms -halfway to some random motel- that it seemed a good idea to make use of one of those. Itachi started off in the direction of his room, but he was halted when he remembered he was sharing it with Kisame -who may or may not have returned there- because they were both stingy.
Except, apparently, when it came to alcohol.
Naruto, however, loudly declared, in the middle of the night out in the street in the center of town where he woke some people, that he had a room free from partners.
So they headed off.
As soon as the two stumbled into the room, Naruto turned around and pushed the older shinobi to the wall insistently. He was liquored up enough to not care that he was about to get more intimate with the body of a missing nin than he should be. Or rather, he cared, just not in the appropriate way.
Naruto tore at the concealing cloak, a little shocked and confused when the catches on it were ripped out of the fabric. It wouldn't close again. Itachi would have to buy a new one, unless he was a talented seamstress.
Naruto let that thought pass before the danger of dwelling on it could become a problem.
Grinning deviantly, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the Uchiha's pants, pulling their hips together as he leaned in with his chest, effectively pinning the Akatsuki member.
Itachi, if he had been anywhere near sober, may have protested with physical violence to being shoved up against a wall. As it was, Naruto's body pressing up along his made that difficult to do so.
The blonde pressed his mouth firmly against Itachi's, demanding that the Uchiha yield to his advances. If the Uchiha had any thoughts of resistance, he wouldn't have followed Naruto to his room.
Naruto lifted a hand to grab Itachi's jaw, and almost laughed when he was snarled at.
He felt hands dig into his hips, a little painfully, but the alcohol in his system helped him ignore it.
Naruto drove his hips forward, sending a clear signal to any who cared to interpret that he was fully intent on fucking Uchiha Itachi.
Itachi had always been good at picking up signals.
The brunette's mouth left Naruto's lips chasing down tan skin, teeth scraping against a strong jaw. He bit lightly at an earlobe, methodically trailing down a neck that tilted backwards graciously for him, the side of his perfect face tickled by the blonde hair of the man who was still holding him in place.
Naruto, for his part, felt his body tighten itself in anticipation as liquid fire raced through his veins, and he roughly pushed his lower body against the other's again. He wondered what some people would do for a night with the sharingan user.
Probably a lot.
Of course, if he bothered to think about it, he was risking charges of treason at worst, and an ass kicking from Tsunade at best. It was probably a good thing he didn't bother to think about it.
Besides, who had to know?
Even if it would totally be worth the looks on everyone's faces. Later, upon sobering up, he would decide that it probably wasn't worth that.
Belatedly realizing his mind had been wandering, and somehow without his knowing, his hands had made their way inside Itachi's cloak, the Konoha nin felt it might be a good idea to pay attention to the situation at hand. He wouldn't want to miss it.
Naruto wedged his knee between Itachi's own, growling possessively.
Itachi's eyes spun wildly. For a moment, Naruto thought maybe he was going to die –at that perhaps he would want to miss this- until Itachi flipped him over and on to the ground. He wasn't even aware it had happened until the older man's body fell onto his.
The sharp smell of alcohol mingled with whatever shampoo Itachi must use. The blonde thought it smelled vaguely like lilacs, but that seemed ridiculous.
Everyone knew wanted criminals didn't use flower scented shampoo. Everyone, of course, being Naruto.
Legs tangled clumsily as they gripped each other. Naruto distinctly heard Itachi grunt as he thrust against him, clothed hips creating a frustration that bred urgency. He responded, arching upwards, his lean body pressing hard against the one above him, the open cloak blanketing around them.
Naruto dug his fingers into Itachi's lower back, thoroughly enjoying himself, but feeling that it was lacking something. Aside from the main event, of course.
Hooking his ankle around Itachi's leg, he flipped them over. Much better. Everything was more fun with a little competition.
The Uchiha narrowed his eyes, but swiftly, before he could retaliate, Naruto sent one of his hands on a mission south. Victory was his.
After all, he had very reliable hands, and they succeeded in very dangerous missions all the time.
"Call me Naruto," he demanded sultrily, before sliding a hand up the missing nin's shirt, the cloak spread underneath them. He smirked when a hand gripped him from behind and jerked him forward. The blonde brought his hands up near Itachi's head, leaning on them as he ground harshly into the man below.
Was it just him or were Uchiha's really pretty? Itachi especially… even more so when he arched like that -eyes narrowing, but not quite closing in his wanton state. Red was such a sexy color.
Naruto dipped his head, catching a gasp, intruding into it, and tasting what the other man had drank. Itachi responded with a kind of lazy power that Naruto was fast beginning to associate with him. Alcohol made it clumsy, but desire made it burn. A hand fisted in his hair as blonde locks were tugged backwards, separating them before teeth grazed down his neck.
It hurt slightly, but not enough to deter Naruto, he was tough and in this case, he didn't mind it one bit. It was even a little enjoyable.
Rough treatment was kind of a turn on.
He just hoped it wouldn't develop into some sort of complex. He would hate it if he needed therapy.
A sharp pain in his shoulder alerted him to the fact that he had been bit. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to bruise. He smiled devilishly when it occurred to him that although any marks he accrued in this rendezvous would heal by morning, Itachi would have to wait for his to heal at a normal rate.
Looking down at the Uchiha through half lidded eyes, meeting hazy red, he thought about how entertaining it would be if Itachi had some noticeable visual reminder of him, ones that would be apparent and difficult to explain.
He figured a few Akatsuki-level nins would probably notice, in fact, it was almost a guarantee.
With renewed fervor, Naruto grabbed the genius's arms, locking them above the man's head, oddly thankful to Jiraiya for his training that allowed him this strength that was hard for even S-class missing nins to match.
Itachi didn't really have a distinguishing taste, but that was probably good, because Naruto bet he would've tasted like blood. He chose a spot high up on the Uchiha's neck and sucked. Hard.
Naruto let go of Itachi's arms to hold himself up instead.
Itachi groaned, driving his hips upward, hands sliding gracefully up Naruto's back, beneath his shirt. Somehow it didn't surprise him that Itachi could still be graceful when he was completely trashed.
Naruto temporarily left the pale skin as he found his shirt come over his head, and watching it for a brief moment as it was flung across the room.
He supposed he was lagging and should catch up, besides it wasn't exactly fair if Itachi could watch him move around naked if he couldn't do the same. Especially since he really wanted to see Itachi naked. If only things were different, then maybe he'd be able to have Itachi walk around naked for him everyday. Too bad they were enemies.
Actually, now that he really actually thought about it, they probably shouldn't be doing this. After all, Itachi had spent a lot of time trying to kidnap him, which would eventually end in Naruto's death if he succeeded. That was even more important than treason and beatings.
Looking at the man who was currently fumbling with his pants –standard Konoha jounin issue- Naruto decided that it was probably, definitely too late to stop now. He grabbed a loose lock of dark hair, tilting the perfect head to allow him to fasten his lips to the underside of a sculpted jaw.
He bet an artist would kill to carve out the Uchiha's image. Itachi looked like the ageless marble statues in museums: frozen figures of ethereal beauty. Of course, the only time Naruto had been in a museum was to steal something for a client during a mission in the middle of the night, and the statues he would compare Itachi to had nearly given him a heart attack when he thought they were real people.
Besides, the real thing was prettier than a statue anyway.
He smirked to himself and grabbed at the neck of Itachi's shirt with both hands, effectively tearing the material until it was split down the front completely. He was rewarded with a growl and his head connecting solidly with the floor again as they were flipped over. Idly, he noticed that this was getting them closer and closer to the bed.
"You can afford a new one," Naruto grinned. For some reason, Itachi didn't seem to find it funny. He raked his eyes down the exposed chest, trying not to snicker at what a nice curtain the shirt-turned-rag made against the cloak.
"You are hot," Naruto complimented. He could be nice when he wanted to be.
Itachi blinked at him.
"You know, staring at me and not doing anything is the best part of sex."
Uchihas always seemed to respond to the blonde's taunts.
In this case, it involved Itachi crushing his lips against Naruto's with bruising force, and forcibly removing his pants.
Naruto could be the accommodating sort –though usually only when made to –so he returned the favor.
The blonde firmly grabbed a bare hip and pressed himself against it tight, moving in a confident direction before once more reversing their positions. He pulled away, sitting on his heels as he reached for one of his discarded articles of clothing. He dug around in the pockets, for once reveling in the crimson eyes that followed his every move.
Normally if Itachi was watching him so intently, it was a bad thing.
Grinning, he pulled out a small bottle, his expression turning victorious.
"Do you always carry that around?" The question startled Naruto for a moment, not expecting Itachi to speak.
"At Jiraiya's advice."
Jiraiya actually advised he carry a lot more things around with him, but a good portion of that list was illegal in Fire Country, he was sure, and most of it, he either didn't know what it was or how to use it. He wasn't about to let the old pervert explain any of it to him, either. He didn't want advice from a lecher on how to be an even bigger lecher.
Naruto stood up, a glint in his eyes that even Itachi couldn't quite recognize. The Konoha shinobi leaned over, offering his hand to the genius, who curious, took it –probably because he was still rather drunk. Intoxication was great for those little inhibition problems.
Naruto hauled the other man up, pulling him flush against him for a brief moment, pausing to lick harshly up his neck, before spinning them around and pushing Itachi against the wall.
Itachi, for his part, took it all rather calmly. Naruto supposed it was just an Itachi thing.
The blonde pressed up against him, moving in with his mouth, connecting with another, before thrusting with his hips, getting to the point where his patience was wearing very thin, but where he knew that this was the chance of a lifetime if he was careful.
There was something he wanted to do that he would probably never get a chance to do again.
Itachi suppressed a smirk at the blonde in his arms. He couldn't recall ever feeling so… relaxed, and at the same time, excited. Probably because he had never engaged in drunken sex.
He reached up to grab the blonde locks, unable to pinpoint when the hitae-ate disappeared and not sure why this missing time seemed so significant. Come to think of it, he couldn't recall his own hitae-ate being removed, but he could distinctly feel the lack of it on his forehead.
His brows knitted slightly in confusion, but then Naruto did something within his mouth that completely derailed that train of thought.
He tightened his grip on Naruto's hair, tugging the younger nin's head to the side as he lowered his face to a tanned neck, teeth scraping against the skin hard enough to leave red marks, but nothing more. He reached the shoulder and bit down, felt a slight jolt beneath him and moved on. His other hand swept across a broadened back, feeling the two that were on his own hips, guiding their movement.
This was not enough. He wanted more, and when he wanted something, he would do what it took to get it.
That was the summary of his thoughts before he found himself spun around, looking at the wall, one side of his face pressed against cool plaster, his legs spread to balance himself in the awkward position. Although Naruto had improved drastically since he had first met him, it seemed odd to him that he should be able to do this and also pin his arm behind his back.
Maybe Naruto wasn't quite at the same level of inebriation.
Something warm and damp fell on his neck, moving up to his earlobe as a hand trailed down his spine and then lower.
Link to full version in my profile.
Itachi returned to the current Akatsuki hideout alone with a limp, a cloak that wouldn't close, a ripped shirt, and a neck full of hickeys. Most drew their own conclusions.
Kisame had come back a few hours earlier, confident his partner would show up.
The first one who had been stupid enough to stare had been on the receiving end of a mangekyo sharingan genjutsu: tsukiyomi.
Despite their dying curiosity, no one dared asked questions, since their dying curiosity would probably cause them to die.
Other than that, for the next few days Itachi was more relaxed than anyone ever recalled him being. From then on, when they would whisper among themselves that he needed to get laid, they couldn't help but snicker.
Naruto, upon waking up on his inn room floor and finding himself draped over a missing nin who was wanted by his village, immediately panicked.
With a degree of skill borne from necessity, he gathered what he could of his possessions, knowing he had never been more silent in his entire life and ran.
He was several miles away before he thought to stop and put his clothes on.
He ran a few more miles just to be safe.
Then he took the time to slow down and think. He went over the night before in his mind, but when he felt his body start reacting to it, he immediately terminated that train of thought. Apparently it was something he would have to reminisce over when he was alone in his apartment with the doors locked on the off chance someone wanted to walk in.
His friends noted that for a few weeks he was nervous and shaky, and especially pale on the day of his return. When they asked him about it, he would glare at him, and then they would tell him that maybe he needed to get laid. The color would drain from his face right before he punched them
A/N: I do have one question. How do you write a drunk Itachi? I wasn't sure, so I just wrote something similar to other drunk people I know. We'll just assume he's a chatty, laidback drunk.
I hope I have corrupted you all.
I started this in November 2005. It is late April 2006. Thought you might like to know.
Oh, and there is a depressingly small amount of ita/naru naru/ita fics where naurto isn't a weepy suicidal person, so those of you so inclined should write some and I will read them.