Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters, and this piece of fanfiction exists for the sole purpose of entertainment.
Genre: AU, PWP, humor
Warnings: explicit sexual content, language
Summary: Sasuke likes biology. Naruto hates laundry. And the dryers? Oh, they rumble.
A/N: Futago no Seishi here once again. I have been editing LilPurplFlwr's "Not" for way too long, and this is, you could say, a fanfiction based on her fanfiction (what). An AU take on an AU college romance. And what LilPurplFlwr and I both wish would happen in the story. :D
Another weeknight, another set of tedious must-do's. Seriously now, laundry. Why even bother? Febreeze had been invented for a reason, and he was sure it was for the benefit of lazy/time-constrained college students everywhere. Of course, the roommate had different ideas, the anal retentive bastard. Do you really need to wash a shirt after only one day of wearing? What a waste! Think of the money that could be saved! Think of all the 79-cent tacos he could get with a month's worth of laundry money!
But, no. Instead, he was here in the public laundry room of his dormitory, losing 1.00 per wash and 0.50 per dry. Needless to say, he was not happy. And Sasuke? That goddamned bastard was perfectly happy with the monetary loss. So happy, in fact, that he was studying biology off of flash cards.
Sasuke paid him no attention, of course. Something about… he squinted a bit at the back of the flash card the short distance from him. Spr… no, sper… ma… to… gen… Wait, sperm?
Naruto was not amused. Not even the DS in his hands was helping. The situation was critical. So instead, he took to staring aimlessly at the washers. They had those clear doors, as if anyone was interested in staring at all the pretty colors go swirl.
Alright, so maybe he was. But he was in a state of distressing boredom. Maybe of boring distress. All those pretty colors were supposed to be tacos!
Oh, so finally the guy decides to pay attention to him. About time… what the—!
And that was all the warning he received before he was forcibly shoved against the thrumming metal contraption behind him.
DS! Save the video game! Flat surface, now!
He grimaced, smacked the other on the shoulder, but really, he was shaking inside from the way Sasuke growled his name, all throaty, breathy, and bestial, and from the smoldering look in this dark eyes. He felt like he was being consumed alive by that gaze, hungry and possessive and so masculine. He thrilled in the feeling—it raced down his torso in an electric line, alighting his nerves and making the sweep of Sasuke's tongue across his pulse just that. much. sweeter.
And Sasuke, of course, didn't deign his complaint worth replying to. Well, verbally, at least. Because he was letting his body speak for him, and oh the eloquence that Sasuke lacked in words, he more than made up for with his body. It spoke in rigid angles, wiry muscles; in hot breaths and smooth skin; in rough touches and the mesmerizing strokes of his mouth. And if Naruto had actually been mad at Sasuke, he would be hard pressed to remain so with such a convincing argument against him.
This certainly solved the whole boredom problem, that was for sure.
Naruto had no idea what had gotten the other boy so riled up—or maybe he did. It was the flash cards on sperm, wasn't it? Now Naruto had heard of some strange kinks, but biology? Well, whatever floats Sasuke's boat; he certainly wasn't going to question it. So he simply leaned back against the dryer, ignoring the angular jut of metal against his back and instead focusing on the pleasant rumble all down his body, and let himself be taken.
Sasuke blazed a furious trail down his neck, stretching out the collar of his t-shirt in order to gain access to skin, until finally he got fed up and pulled the damn thing off (lest he lose another shirt to Sasuke's desires). Sasuke was already hard against his hip, grinding against his jeans and solid beneath his hands, and it took but two minutes before Naruto was completely erect. And he was sure he was going to have a nasty hickey on his neck in a few hours, but right now he could care less—for Sasuke was hoisting him up by the thighs and depositing him on top of the row of dryers. (Though, in the back of his mind, he was glad that it was winter and he had a fine collection of scarves at hand.)
"Fuck," he said as he looked at Sasuke panting above him, hair disheveled and eyes stripping him to his soul.
"Clothes," Sasuke growled as he proceeded to strip free, and as hot as Sasuke looked in his clothes, Naruto had to say he preferred him without any. And Naruto knew it was a command as well. So as fast as he could manage, he shimmied out of his jeans and boxers, socks being too trivial a matter to deal with at the moment.
It was only after Sasuke bent over the dryer, pressing his engorged member against the vibrating box and drawing Naruto's into his mouth, did the blond realize that they were stark naked and having sex in the public space of the laundry room. And that at any moment, some poor unfortunate soul was going to walk in and be partially blinded (probably by Sasuke's sheer level of hot). It really should have worried him more, but it didn't—and he had Sasuke's hotslicksucking mouth to thank for that. And oh, was he thankful.
He was in danger of falling off the dryer, but Sasuke was such a considerate lover, gripping his hips firmly and keeping him in place. And running his tongue in hard swipes against the underside of his shaft, making his vision blur and his toes curl. Naruto was grunting heavily and, he swore, if he banged his head once more against the dryer, he was going to get a concussion—but he would endure anything, anything if only Sasuke would just keep going, never stop, keep sucking and flicking and—
"Ngh, noooo!" he moaned. And with good cause. Because Sasuke had stopped! With one last, teasing thrust into the slit of the head, making his hips lurch and his gut twist, the bastard stood up, wiped his mouth, and stared at him. What the hell, man?!
Naruto knew that when Sasuke used that tone of voice, he meant business. And Naruto liked Sasuke business. So with as much finesse as he could manage, he scrambled on top of the three dryers he was occupying and lay down. But when he did, he couldn't suppress a moan as his sensitive member was suddenly assaulted with the intense, throbbing rumble of the running machinery beneath him. And so he ground his hips, relishing the feeling and rocking back as he felt Sasuke climb on top of him, felt the machines protest against their combined weight.
Never before had he wished so hard that they had lube on hand. But it was okay because Sasuke was thrusting between his clenched thighs, rubbing against his aching sacs as he ground himself against the thrumming machine beneath him. Sasuke was panting in his ear, biting at the shell, at his shoulder, at his back, all at once eating him, marking him, and worshipping him. His fingers were white in their clenched fists, and he felt so fucking good, and Sasuke felt so fucking hard against him, on top of him—and he was going to explode at any given moment.
"Fuckfuckfuck," was his litany, and he sent his praises to Sasuke as his hips thrashed against the vibrating machine, as his muscles seized in agonizing ecstasy—and he came hard and fast just as the dryer under his hips was finishing its last spin cycle. He clutched at Sasuke, at his arms propped next to him, at the flesh between his legs, and came and came and came, until he was nothing but a shaking mess beneath the other.
Sasuke was close, head resting on his shoulder and face pressed against his hair, and it was Naruto's name on his lips as he finally came, cock threatening to chafe the blond with its pistoning thrusts. And Sasuke was trembling above him, swallowing his pleasure in a strained grunt until all that was left of his it was the slick warmth underneath Naruto's thighs.
They lay there breathing for a moment, sweaty, sticky with guilt, and so satisfyingly sated. The dryer directly beneath their hips had come to a stop; the other two were still rumbling along. And Naruto? He was quickly changing his opinion about this whole laundry business. The taco sacrifice was well worth this outcome.
"So," he started into the general silence, sex clear in his hoarse voice. "... Yeah," he quickly concluded as he wrenched his head around to stare at the other boy on top of him. "We should probably get dressed." They were, after all, naked. On top of dryers. He hoped that Sasuke, with all his great genius, was able to realize that very blatant fact.
Sasuke just looked at him dryly. His cheeks were flushed from climax. Naruto wanted to jump his damn bones again but had to remind himself of their location.
"You know," he pressed, "since this is the public laundry room." Sasuke could be dense at times, but this was ridiculous. And he felt uncomfortable. Lying in his own drying semen was not pleasant, you know.
"So?" Sasuke looked nonplussed and got up leisurely from the quiet machine. He was efficient in retrieving paper towels to clean themselves and their mess, but it was obvious he showed little care for their imminent discovery.
Naruto... was feeling slightly deranged.
"So?? People can see us! What if they saw us doing stuff?!" Frantic images of traumatized residents flashed through his mind. Oh god, the gossip! The sorority tabloids! THE HORROR!
Sasuke wiped the come off of his stomach, completely ignoring his wild flailing. "Who cares."
"What do you mean 'who cares'?!"
And, of course, the next day their naked asses were plastered across the school network.
Naruto took his word back. He definitely would have preferred those tacos to all of this. Fucking laundry.