It is not practically child-molesting…because…well, you have to read it for yourself. I wanted to try out an approach involving a great age difference. Sasuke being thirty-five and Naruto seventeen; it s quite intriguing, is it not? Ah, those human relationships - too hard to be too easy ;D
Please do not flame (I do not find a reason for it so you better not either). I apologize for the possible misspellings and other errors.
CHECK OUT MY OTHER SASUNARU/NARUSASU STORIES TOO AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!
Pairing: Naruto x Sasuke
Summary: At the age of thirty-five Sasuke becomes a stepfather to a boy, who turns out to be something more? Escaping the quilt seems to be the only option left, but what if that boy blocks your only way out? NaruSasu, rated M for SEX
Disclaimer: I have no rights over the characters or what so ever (do not sue me Mr. Kishimoto), I am just loaning them and returning to the rightful owner (Mr. Kishimoto).
Truth Is A Whisper
Never really thought I would find myself standing where I stand now. Sometimes I felt my legs would betray me, yet I let them show the way and I cannot say I regret it.
I was always the quiet student in school, brooding in some corner. I never really had any friends, since my ambition lied in my father's footsteps and what fine footsteps they were. He was a highly praised writer and when needed - the perfect gentleman. Yet, fatherhood was something totally strange and shapeless to him.
I do not know whether he had a diary or anything, but somehow I doubt. I read his books after he had published them, although mother said they were not suited for children and how right she was. The father I yearned for was in his books, but the reality was something so different, almost an opposite.
I always wondered how father could write with such depth and yet not show those feelings to his beloved ones. My father was a book, dull covers and rich inside - we, I, my mother and brother, could not just reach beyond those covers. That might have been the reason why my brother Itachi killed himself in his twenties…I fully understand Itachi's life in the shadow of a broken masterpiece hidden from the eyes of the real world.
The shadow of my father is still too powerful to overcome and I find myself mirroring his actions, his world and it scares me. I am thirty-five years old and my father treats me like a stranger no older than fifteen. His hand hits me without touching; his expressions rip me apart without showing anything on the outside.
I followed his path, since he did not let me take any other road - silently but firmly his hand guided me. I became a literature teacher holding courses for adults and there I met my future, Sakura. She was five years older than me and eager to learn everything new; her whole being radiated.
I felt there was a magnet between us, keeping us close and for the first time in my career, I started to enjoy teaching. Our conversations became deeper, my teaching evolved into moments of pure flow of mind. Before we knew it, we found ourselves sipping coffee and talking about life.
The days turned into weeks, weeks into months and I took my chance to tell her what Oscar Wilde had written years ago; "The world has changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history" and I pressed my dry lips on hers. She broke the kiss with a blush on her cheeks, I have a son, she said to me.
Somehow it was not something I had expected and I studied her profile closely without even blinking. Then a smile broke on to my lips as I said to her, so, you have a son. The tensed situation broke loose like a river from its bed.
I want you to meet him, she said. You are the first person in ages with whom I have felt this comfortable…like two lost souls had found one another, she smiled faintly. I was already attached to her, so maybe I could brighten that boy's life as his mother had done for me.
His name was Naruto and apparently the boy's father had died some years ago. She was afraid and worried for her son, since the boy had clamed up after his father had passed away. She asked me whether I could and want to become a some sort of a father to him.
She was scared to ask this, I know. It is not easy to ask someone to substitute someone so dear. Yet, I know that living without a father or not having him mentally around can really harm a person whether he or she knows it. Sasuke, I…no we, want to be your family, she said to me. A family?
It does not really matter if the boy is my biological son or not; I want to give him something I never experienced - a life full of happiness. I smiled at her and I said that I would be honoured to be a part of this family. The last thing we needed was the approval of this seventeen-year-old kid, hopefully a soon-to-be stepson.
I stand in the living room looking straight at a boy, whom I never thought to be Sakura's son. The boy has spiky blonde hair and amazingly blue eyes - the only things that make him the boy Sakura told me about. But the rest? Well, if you do not count the black make-up, leather pants and jacket or the piercings, he might have been just a regular boy.
I notice that he does not smile but looks at me warily. So, you are the bloke mom bangs, he says dryly. Can you say that thirty-five is a bloke? It appears he can. I do not correct him by telling that we do not actually have sex, since this is a relationship of friends, more like platonic. I enjoy it, she enjoys it - so what is the harm?
Naruto, wash your mouth, Sakura yells. No need to, I say and go over to him. Hi, I am Sasuke. I heard you write stories or something like that? I say to him. He just looks a little sour, but I continue by telling him that if he ever needs assistance, I am there for him.
I always thought that I was good with kids, but apparently I am not or Naruto is a puzzle I cannot solve. Before I knew it, I had moved in with those two and life went on as it was supposed to…to some extent that is.
Naruto had opened up a little and one day he just asked me if I could teach him to write properly. A love letter for some girl perhaps? I asked. Something like that, he replied. Do you love mom, he asks me suddenly out of the blue as we sit together. Honestly, I do not know…we have a different kind of relationship, I reply with a sigh.
No more questions from his part and he keeps on scribbling something into his notebook. I lean over to see what he has written and it startles him. Show it to me, I ask. Slowly he reveals his writing and I read it with amazement, this boy is really talented. I look at him and suddenly I notice how good he smells, like fresh flowers and spring. It is for you, he says. For me? I repeat. Yeah, he nods back.
Sakura calls and tells that she will be working the whole night since someone messed up and now everything has to be reorganized. Can you handle him, she asks me. Of course, I tell her. There is some food in the fridge, she says and after we exchange goodbyes, she hangs up.
What should I do with the kid? What normal people do in these kinds of situations? We end up playing Monopoly and for the first time I get him to smile, since I am so lousy at playing the game. We watch television and just talk a lot and it feels like we were a real father and son.
When was your first time, he asks me with a curious smile. I was about twenty or something, a late-bloomer, I tell him. I do not have the courage to ask him about his first time, since I am not sure if I even want to know. He tells me anyway.
Seems he was just thirteen. He needed to escape to sorrow and emptiness which his father's death left behind. Okay, seems this kid is more experienced than me and I am twice his age. I feel so sorry for him and I ruffle his hair with a sad smile saying that we should go to bed by now.
I get to lay on the bed like twenty minutes or something before the door creeks. Is there something wrong, I ask. Can I sleep with you, I do not want to be alone, he says. Of course, I smile and pat the mattress beside me. Then that seventeen-year-old, almost a grown-up guy crawls between the sheet and the blanket right next to me. Good night, I say.