The only ways he could have gotten out of this situation:
- Kill Naruto.
- Kill himself
- Say no.
The situation he was currently in:
- A bar, drinking a vodka tonic.
Naruto was being an idiot somewhere, picking up girls with atrocious pickup lines, and not failing.He had about five different drunk girls trying to clamber on his lap, begging him to get up and dance.
He definitely didn't want to be here. Even if the vodka was just so perfectly bitter and heavenly.
She strode confidently into the bar, heels of her dominatrix boots clicking on the floor. Her fresh jeans sculpted her body ever so perfectly.
Eyes were drawn to her from every corner of the room.
Her top was flimsy and black; it was calculatingly sexy in its own right, as it didn't show much skin besides her arms.
She gestured to the bartender minutely, as she always had. Silently, with a nod, he handed her a straight glass of vodka with ice.
She downed half of it in a single gulp.
She swallowed rather noisily, emphasizing her throat as she tilted her head back to gain an easier path for all the alcohol to pass through her esophagus.
Drunkenly, a regular she recognized from many nights back, leaned towards her, and slurred, "What are your fees tonight, darling?"
In the echoing silence surrounding the bar, as the dance floor was a room away, his gravelly slow, drunk words had immediately drawn the attention of every male patron, wedded or not, in the room.
She smiled sweetly. "Whatever you can afford, as long as it's above a thousand dollars, sir. My fees vary." She spoke blandly, and rather loudly, her bell voice ricocheting off the walls.
"Ah, you're not getting laid tonight, old fart!" Several customers hooted.
The old man glared. "Fuck you, dick wads. Thank you, darling." He stumbled away from her.
She smirked cockily, and sipped her drink slowly this time, her tongue rolling and flicking over the faceted rim.
She knew that everyone was staring; she knew that patrons were seeing what fees they could gamble off of her.
She smiled as another man took the old man's seat.
There was some sort of commotion he could hear in the bar room through the loud, heart-stopping music.
Well, something stupid was better than watching sweaty bodies gyrate to some loud nonsense clubbing music.
He left his empty glass on the table.
She was thoroughly enjoying herself. She gestured to the wizened bartender, and he handed her another tall glass of straight vodka.
He settled down in a seat that was partially obscured, but he had a clear view of the scene.
He was blown away by her, as she playfully toyed with the men.
"For you, no less than a million." She teased.
"What! No way!" The barely of-age boy sputtered. He had stringy platinum blonde hair that hung down, and bright bell-blue eyes that were struggling to keep up with the liqueur clearly running through his body.
"I am an older woman, little boy. How did you sneak in here, anyways?"
"You were hoping to score, but you missed. And, little boy, you're drinking a girly, fruity drink. How can I not miss that? Little boy, you sure you picked something good? You're drinking a pink Cosmo."
Everyone laughed hysterically. The boy blushed ferociously, and bolted back into his original seat.
"I've had enough, enjoy your night, men, and little boy."
The said boy looked up, hopeful.
"Don't go fishing again, you hear?"
He slumped forward. She giggled, and turned away and began to make small talk with the bartender.
That was the signal. All the men turned away, and whispers of broken conversation threaded itself through the previous silence.
He leaned a little, and happened to ask the old man, "Who is she?"
The old man stared at him in disbelief. "You must be new to this bar. That-" and he pointed at her- "Is Lady Cerise of Room 21."
The man said her name with such reverence and fervor, and his curiosity was piqued.
"Lady Cerise of Room 21?"
"Yes. She always comes down to say hello and talk to the patrons. I've been coming here for thirty years, and I've never met a woman like her." He trailed off, eyes widening. "Lady Cerise!"
"Hello, there, Jeremy. You seem all sobered up tonight."
And there she stood, in her pink-haired glory.
"And who's this newcomer? Welcome."
He eyed her, eyes traveling unabashedly up and down her figure. Seamless skin exposed, voluptuous hips, and a sharp, fox-like heart-shaped face framed with glossy, long pink hair. A short-fingernail hand rested on the curve of her hip as she examined him with glittering emerald eyes.
A god-like chiseled body peeking out of the t-shirt he was wearing, dark midnight hair, and fathomless onyx eyes. She scanned him minutely.
"Lovely to meet you. Get you a drink, Sasuke Uchiha? So sorry to intrude, Jeremy." She batted her eyelashes.
"No problem, Lady Cerise."
He got up and followed her back to the bar, and ordered two vodka tonics.
"Ah, you like vodka too?"
He acknowledged the question with a silent nod.
"I don't suspect your name is actually Lady Cerise, is it?"
"No it is not." She toasted him, and threw the contents of her glass down her throat. "You're the first to ask."
She ogled him again. He was the most handsome-looking male she had ever seen, counting that he also kept his wits when he is drunk. That was an invaluable trait in her book.
They didn't talk. The pair mainly stared at each other and drank.
Finally, as she noticed most of the patrons were gone, she nudged him to lean closer.
"Fancy anything else, Sasuke?"
She impressed him. She drank at least ten large glasses of vodka, and she still spoke in coherent sentences.
"Well." She fished around in her pockets, and finally pulled out something.
"Here's the key to Room 21."
And she left it on the napkin.
She tossed a pile of loose bills on the counter.
And then, without warning, she grabbed his head and gave him a long bruising kiss.
She tasted of limes and vodka, and he tasted the same. Her lips were firm and her technique was unrelenting. He was trapped.
He naturally kissed back, his lips melding and molding hers. She ran a sticky-bittersweet tongue on his lip, and forced entry.
He groaned slightly, as this was doing weird things to his pants, such as his fly was expanding to embarrassing proportions and his pants were becoming painfully, achingly tight he was getting all sweaty and oh, was that her cold hand?
She pulled herself away, and strode away without wobbling (he noted).
He stared at the key.
He's never met a woman anything like her.
One that bought him drinks.
Was a heavy drinker.
Didn't know him, and yet she kissed him.
Blatantly gave him her room key.
And she made bitter vodka taste like sweet sugar.
Definitely a winner.
He got off his seat and stumbled his way up the stairs.
Damn, was it him or was the stairs taking really long to climb up?
He clung fruitlessly to the railings and the walls, struggling to make his way up.
Finally, a dim hallway light greeted him.
He stared at all the doors, searching for the fated Room 21 where the key belonged.
Room 18…Room 19…Room 20…Room 21.
He found it, a black-rosewood door with the words 'Room 21' emblazoned in a bright fire engine red.
He threw open the door.
And there she was, lying serenely in a model position, reading a magazine.
She slowly looked up at him, and crooked a finger to bring him in.
He shut the door softly, and stalked, predator-like, to the bed.
He just craved her right now. He needed her.
She lazily stood up, with a feline grace, and two steps, she was in front of him.
She dropped his pants, he tore off her shirt. It was like a ritual, clothes flying every which way, until they stood in front of each other, stark naked.
She pounced on him, and furiously kissed him with a burning passion.
Sasuke was shocked, and was frozen when her heated lips met his sweating skin.
She pulled away from his lips, and began to slowly, tantalizingly, lick her way down there as she shoved him roughly on the bed.
When he came to consciousness next morning, she wasn't there.
He looked around frantically.
Then when he heard water running, he relaxed.
Was it because she was hot?
Was it because she was bold?
Was it because she was different?
Sasuke's thoughts raced. Why did he bother with a one-night-stand like this?
Was it that she was interesting?
Was it because she drank vodka?
He wasn't sure.
The bathroom door opened. She stepped out, encased in a fluffy white towel.
She smiled. "Good morning, Sasuke."
"Good morning, Lady Cerise."
She licked her swollen red lips as she stared at him. Her emerald eyes darkened. "You taste absolutely delicious."
"Um, thank you." He blushed a little.
She laughed, a soft ringing echoing.
"You can leave anytime you like, Sasuke."
She raised an eyebrow. She sat perched on the edge of the bed.
"I need answers. Why did you pick me? Why did I let you lead me? Why do I crave you? What's your real name?" He sounded lost.
"Do you really need answers, Sasuke?"
He crawled towards her, and snatched her into his arms.
He dipped her head back, and gave her a kiss.
A kiss so gentle and so sweet, yet so demanding, made her melt.
She had never, never been kissed like that before. She could feel nothing of the burning empty passion she kissed with.
Instead, she felt raw energy. It scared her a little.
They finally pulled away, gasping and panting for air.
Sakura looked down. They were still naked, basically. Better now then never.
"Sasuke, let's start over."
She removed herself from him, and stood.
He hesitated. Was she…?
"Lovely to meet you, Sasuke. Would you care to go out and have a coffee with me to get over this fucking hangover after you shower and dress?"
Prompts: Room 21 by Hinder.
I also was somewhat looking up to EWH its Kenna's version of Room 21, cause she beat me to be using the idea of the song Room 21.
And yes, I have this fixation on vodka.