A/N Ever since I created this yaoi-only account, I've had about a million ideas for SasuNaru and NaruSasu. So I'm gonna be writing a bunch at one time, I think – and this is one of them XD Updates may be slow, and this is NOT PWP so there will be plot – but there will also be yaoi and lemons (though I hate that word).

So enjoy!


This is yaoi. Slash. Shonen-ai. If you don't know what that is, I suggest not reading. If you do know, and you don't like it – same.

This is rated M not only for the yaoi, but for language. The characters are approximately 19 in this fic – they're not exactly pristine.

Some parts are as cheesy/sweet-ish as hardcore yaoi-ish. And as for the last warning…beware Sasuke in tights. XD I couldn't help it.

Oh, and I don't own Naruto, Sasuke, or anyone associated with them, much to my dismay.

"Hey, Sas-uke, ready for tonight?"

"Shut the fuck up or we'll see who the goddamn uke is, Neji!"

We're just teasing, of course. I can't really call us best friends, but we're pretty damn close, and that's saying something when you're Uchiha Sasuke. Which I am. It's an ongoing joke with us, and it's funny because I'm straight and Neji's taken. He is the uke, in fact, as I know from a serious TMI-session in the dressing room a few weeks ago. Then again, I can't imagine anyone in the world topping Neji's boyfriend Gaara. The dude practically fucks you with his eyes.

...But I'm not gay, I swear. I have -- well, I had a girlfriend. Hinata. She was sweet, pretty...the only problem was, though I'm not gay, she turned out to be. I'd rather lose her to Sakura than some asshole, though, so it's okay. I'm pretty preoccupied as it is.

"Oh, boys!" A familiar singsong voice wafts to us. Our dance instructor, Kakashi, pokes his head into the dressing room. The dressing room in which approximately twenty sweaty teenage guys are currently stripping off tights and leotards after a strenuous four hour rehearsal (our first performance of Romeo and Juliet is tonight). Pervert. We should be used to it, though. "Be back at 7 so we can get you all into your costumes!"

"Yes, Kakashi-sensei," we chorus tiredly. This gives us two hours, which kind of sucks, because we've been in rehearsal from 8 to 12 this morning, then from 1 to 5. And a performance at 8, with costume call at 7. Thank God our new schedule starts once the performances pick up, which means we'll only have rehearsals from 2-6 starting tomorrow. Still, it's per day, and it's every day except Sunday (and we still have performances on Sundays), and it's for the entire month. Then we take a break (maybe for a week, or sometimes a month. Depends on how much we make off Romeo and Juliet), then we have to audition for something else and the whole goddamn thing starts again.

Life is not easy when you're a male ballet dancer.

Yet, I wouldn't trade it for the world. There's just something about --

"Hey, Sasuke, wanna grab something to eat?" Neji shakes me out of my thoughts, clapping me on the arm.

"Wha? Oh -- sure," I say. Not like there's anything better to do. I sling my bag onto my shoulder and follow him outside into the barely spring streets. Of all the times to be working on a show, I have to say I prefer April. It's just...perfect, especially for something like Romeo and Juliet. The skies are clear enough for the sun to wash our practice dance studios in a golden gleam. Furthermore, when we go outside, it's not so uncomfortably cold that our sweat turns to ice and clings to us, yet it's not so hot that we don't want to dance at all.

Plus, the flowers are blooming in a way that can only spell r-o-m-a-n-c-e, which puts me in a very Shakespeare-y mood. Despite the fact that I'm single, I mean.

Ugh, not a nice thought. 19 years old. Single. Male. Definitely not the best position to be in.

…And now I'm thinking of positions. Curse my perverted mind! Okay, time to talk about something. I think we've been quiet for long enough.

"Where's Gaara?"

"Out of town visiting his family." Neji kicks a pebble on the ground and stuffs his hands in his pockets. His usually unfathomable eyes look truly sad. "Um -- pizza?"

"Sure," I repeat. We walk to the all-too-familiar pizza place and order a half-chicken, half-extra cheese pie. The usual. Except today, Neji seems detached. He doesn't pick off the pieces of chicken daintily like he usually does; he just munches in silence.

"You okay?" I ask him. Oh God, there's nothing like warm pizza after a hard workout. Especially if you're playing Mercutio (which is a huge role, if I may say so myself), because he's supposed to "frolic" and that means lots of leaps and spins. Grand jetés and pirouettes. Beaucoup d'allégro, you know. Lots of lightness in my step, and it has to be very quick and perky. I love it! But it's quite tiring.

"I miss him," Neji says simply, and it's enough. I wipe my hand on a napkin (ew, pizza grease) and touch his elbow.

"When is he coming back?" I ask, because I can tell he wants me to.

"A week from now; next Friday." A pained expression crosses his face. "I wish he could see our premiere tonight, but he had to go to his sister's wedding to some guy named Shikamaru. He promised he'll watch it every night when he gets back though," he adds with a faraway smile.

Sometimes I'm jealous of what Neji has. I don't like Gaara like that -- for the last time, I told you! I'm not gay! -- but I like the idea of being so close to someone. I wish I could say I had that with Hinata, but the truth was, even though we said I love you and meant it, even though we did love each other...we weren't in love. I guess it's because Hinata's...the way she is, that we couldn't ever get to that place Neji is in with Gaara. It's been the same with my other girlfriends: we had fun, they were nice, I was fine and happy, but...well, it wasn't that there was nothing there. It was that there was something missing. I remember after the first few weeks, they would always try and go too far with me. They'd start hinting, making innuendos, moving their hands down instead of up when we were making out -- and I didn't like it. Most other guys think I'm crazy for not going all the way with those girls (okay, you caught me. I'm still a virgin), but it just didn't feel right. When I see Neji and Gaara, I know they don't have to push or pressure each other into taking the next step. They really are in love; I can see it.

Sometimes I just wish I could feel it. For myself.

"Neji?" I kind of feel like an idiot, but I honestly want to know. He looks up from his pizza. "Y-You're in love, right?"

It took all the courage inside me, and yet all I get is a nod. As if he doesn't need to think about it. As if he knows it, and Gaara knows it too, so he doesn't mind that other people know. It hurts, to know that kind of love exists. At least when you're not experiencing it.

"How do you know?" I whisper. Shit, I think I'm blushing. But because he's my friend, he just smiles at me.

"How do you know you love ballet?' he asks. What a ridiculous question!

"It's not the same at all! I just do," I laugh. "I don't care how weird it might seem to be a guy doing it. Just the thought of ballet makes me happy – even though it's something I have to work at, I know that I'll always feel this way about it, so I'll do anything I can to keep it in my life."

Now he's laughing. I don't get it, but I hate it when people know I don't get it, so I just wait for him to explain himself.

"You just described the way I feel about Gaara, Sasuke," he grins.

"…Seriously?" Well, that's weird. "I thought it was a different kind of love." He shakes his head.

"There is one love. There are just different amounts, and different ways of expressing it. When you love something, or someone, you can feel it, and you just know. You always want it with you, because of how it makes you feel. That feeling is there for me and Gaara, and it's strong as hell." He's beaming at me now, and I think even though he's known this for a while, it's the first time he's voicing it. "And it doesn't matter that we're two guys because it's like you said – we don't care how weird it might be to other people. I'll do anything I can to keep him in my life."

I can't help myself.

"Dude…that's so gay."

Shitshitshit – did I just say that out loud? Ooooops….Thankfully, Neji throws his head back and laughs.

"Yeah, well, so am I," he says once he calms down. I have a feeling he didn't expect much more than that from me.

But then I say something very un-Sasuke-like, though it's totally honest.

"I'm so happy for you," I say. "I wish I had that." He looks at me in surprise.

"But I thought you cared most about your career. Every girl that comes near you gets shot down in a matter of weeks, and you always tell us it's because dancing and making money is the most important thing to you right now!"

I give him a kind of apologetic grin.

"Wanna know the truth?" I lower my voice (pointlessly. There's no one we know around). "Those girls just didn't do anything for me. I don't know why, but I never felt what you feel. And I love ballet. I love dancing. But I don't love it so much that there isn't room for someone else." I can't believe I'm saying this. More importantly, I can't believe it's true. "D'you – um – d'you happen to know anyone who might be interested?"

Okay, I really don't have a clue why I said that. I don't want a blind date. I'm not that desperate. I mean, girls come up to me all the time, and I just don't feel what Neji's talking about. But it's too late to take my words back.

"You don't want that, do you." Thankfully, Neji knows me well enough to take them back for me. It's not a question. He rubs me on the arm in what would be a condescending (or seriously homoerotic, considering his – err- preference) gesture in any other situation, but for now it's just comforting. "Don't worry. If you're meant to fall in love, you'll find it. Or it'll find you. I remember feeling just like that" – damn, that faraway look is back – "and then I ran into the most beautiful red head in a restaurant and nothing's been the same since then. You'll find that someone too, Sasuke."

"You don't know that," I fret (yes, I fret. Deal with it).

"I do. Because Sasuke -- you're sweet, in your own way. You're young. You're spirited. You're fairly wealthy for a 19 year old. You've put on shows for hundreds of people. You're muscled. And – don't take this the wrong way because you know I'm taken – you're fucking sexy, to top it off."

Well, this is weird. My gay friend (taken or not, the fact is he swings this way. My way. And I do not) just said I'm sexy. Which is a total lie, by the way.

"Sasuke Uchiha is not sexy!" I protest. "Look at me, Neji. I'm goddamn paler than a cloud. My hair does this stupid pointy flippy thing in the back that no gel on earth will control. And come on – my fingers are way too thin!"

I hear myself and I realize what he's going to say a second before he raises an eyebrow and says it.

"Dude…that's so gay."

"Shut up!" I smack his hand away, but we're both laughing now.

"C'mon, sex kitten. We have to go back to the theater before Kakashi flips a shit." Neji starts to throw out our trash and I follow him through the door, still laughing.

Even though I'll never admit out loud that I have a friend (I'm supposed to be a loner), I think I have a pretty good idea of what it means to be one. Other people say friends are people you can always count on or friends can always cheer you up. Well, I guess that's true. But in my opinion, a friend is someone who can make you laugh when you want to just give up – even if they do it in such a weird way that everyone around you stops to stare at the two of you. The thing is, if you're really close, you won't care who's watching (even if in our case, it's two really old women who murmur "Are they homosexuals?" and make Neji laugh and say "You're half right!") because it doesn't matter how stupid you seem as long as you have someone by your side.

With this in mind and Neji's arm playfully around my waist, I can walk towards three solid hours of even more rehearsal with a smile on my face. Tonight is the debut of Romeo and Juliet, which is the biggest show we've been in yet, after all. According to Kakashi, ticket sales are already skyrocketing. As we approach the dance studio, I can feel my heart start to quicken.

"Everything's going to change, isn't it?" I ask quietly.

"I kind of have a feeling we have no idea how much truth is in that statement," Neji replies. And I think he's right. I can feel it in my chest. It's more than just butterflies this time, or the aftermath of admitting to Neji how alone I really feel sometimes (which I'm almost 100 percent sure I'm going to regret tomorrow). There's a tugging at my chest that somehow makes me know my next words are true.

"Tonight will be monumental."