Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto…whatever made you think that I did?
Notes: One-shot, pre-Naruto…I wouldn't classify it as an AU/AR because this totally could've happened in canon!
Meant to be funny, not in any way offensive…so laugh and enjoy!
"Sensei went in there?"
Namikaze Minato squinted suspiciously at the shadowy doorway that supposedly led into a tavern of some kind. Unlike the last few bars he'd traced his wayward sensei to, this one was tucked down an alleyway and out of sight from the main street. There were no windows, just a single door set beneath street level at the bottom of a small flight of stairs. A weak light bulb illuminated a metal plate etched with the name Hidden Lark over the door.
This is actually a bar?
It didn't seem to fit with the rest of the area. Harajuku was a small city that glittered like an iridescent jewel with all kinds of lights. It was a resort town that catered to all kinds of vice and made no attempt to hide that fact. Anything legal (and several things illegal) could be found here at any price.
He and his sensei had come here to cap off a successful training trip. Minato had followed his sensei, Jiraiya, on a three-month out of the village to learn his master's spying and information gathering techniques. Their travels had ended in Harajuku and Jiraiya had decided that he wanted to have a wild party night before heading back home to Konoha in the morning.
Being only a chuunin and not quite sixteen, Minato had not gone along. And when his sensei failed to return to the inn where they were staying at the time he said he'd be back, Minato had reluctantly gone out to find him. There was little chance that his sensei was actually in physical danger, but with all the other bars that he had traced Jiraiya to his sensei was surely very drunk and was going to need help getting back to their room.
"Might as well go in," Minato muttered and reluctantly crept down the stairs and slipped through the door.
The inside of the Hidden Lark was a stark contrast to the outside. It was shadowy, but not particularly seedy. The air smelled relatively clean with very little smoke in the air. It was lit with colored lights and loud music throbbed through the speakers. It wasn't so much a bar as a hidden nightclub.
Sighing, Minato paid extra to bribe the man at the door to overlook his young age and let him in and started combing the crowd in search of a tall, white-haired drunk man.
The first thing that struck him as odd was the nightclub's patrons. They were all men. And while most looked fairly normal, there were handfuls here and there that wore make-up or strange outfits…or dresses.
Jiraiya-sensei must've been really drunk to wander in here—
Minato flinched when a hand smacked his rear and he turned to find a rather inebriated stranger smiling at him.
"You're pretty," he slurred.
"Huh?!" Minato squeaked.
"Hachi!" another man laughed and grabbed the drunk man. "I think you've had enough. Let's go home, eh?" The more sober man grinned apologetically towards Minato. "Sorry 'bout him. He gets really horny when he's wasted."
Minato stared after the retreating pair until they were swallowed up by the crowd. Swallowing uneasily, he continued on in his search for his lost sensei. But he didn't get much farther before he was interrupted again.
"You seem a little young to be in here," a man remarked as Minato passed him at the bar counter.
"I'm looking for someone; I'm not here for a drink," Minato replied.
"You're looking for a hook-up?" the man chuckled.
"No," Minato muttered uneasily. "I think someone I know wandered in here…"
"You're taken, huh?" The man sipped at some odd-colored martini.
"…Taken?" Minato frowned. "No, I don't have a girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?!" The man almost choked on his drink. "…Kid, you are very, very lost."
Minato felt himself start to sweat. "I was starting to get that feeling…" He coughed nervously. "Have you seen a tall man with long, white hair around here?"
The martini man thoughtfully tapped his chin. "Hmm…"
"Hey there," a deep voice purred and a heavy arm draped around Minato's shoulders. "You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"
Looking up, Minato found handsome, dark-haired man giving him a charming smile. "No," he gulped, "I—"
"Really?" The dark-haired man sounded surprised. "You're such a pretty boy. It's hard to believe that you don't have someone special."
Minato uncomfortably looked away and thought of red-haired Uzumaki Kushina and how she always liked to call him "Pretty boy."
"So, you want to be my cute little uke?"
"No!" Minato choked and ducked out from under the man's arm. "No thank you."
"Lay off him, Akira," the martini man sighed. "He's not into that."
Akira frowned at Minato. "…You're a seme?"
"No," Minato coughed and nervously jammed his hands into his pockets. "I like girls," he explained, his face heating.
"…Real girls?" Akira blinked.
"Yeah," Minato nodded.
"Well what are you doing here, then?" Akira snorted.
"He's looking for a friend of his," the martini man answered. "Have you seen a tall, white-haired guy hanging around here?"
"Huh…think I saw a guy like that over there," Akira shrugged and pointed towards a distant corner of the club.
"Thank you," Minato bowed and fled in the indicated direction. Sensei, if you turn out not to be in here, when I find you I'm going to kill you!
Carefully weaving through the late night crowd, Minato worked his way towards the far corner. He tried to avoid drawing attention, but he drew a few more propositions and a wolf whistle or two in spite of his efforts. And then he reached his destination and found his sensei sitting beside a person on a couch and happily drinking away.
"Hey, 'Nato!" the white-haired ninja laughed. "What'cha doin' here, huh?"
Minato nervously rubbed at the back of his head. "I came to find you, Sensei."
"Aw," he chuckled, "how nice!"
"See this pretty girl I picked up?" Jiraiya giggled.
Minato cringed. "Jiraiya-sensei…that's a man."
His sensei's companion had long hair, wore a dress, make-up, and heels, but was most definitely a man. He had harsh, masculine facial features and a big-boned build. And he hadn't shaved in several days, leaving him with clearly visible dark stubble on his face.
The senior ninja turned and blearily squinted at his new friend. "Naw! She's not a man!"
Jiraiya's friend giggled, revealing a deep voice.
"Sensei…" Minato sighed. How to get him out of here without causing a scene… "Sensei…I saw Tsunade-sama here…and she looked really mad."
"Tsunade-hime?" Jiraiya blinked, setting down his drink clumsily and spilling it.
"Yes," Minato nodded, lying through his teeth. "I think she wants to beat you up."
"Where?!" Jiraiya's unfocused eyes were wide.
"I don't know," Minato told him. "Let's go back to the inn and hide."
"'Kay," Jiraiya agreed and allowed himself to be helped up. "Bye-bye Sora," he waved to his companion.
"Good night, handsome," his friend purred, batting fake eyelashes.
Minato sighed and began the arduous task of half-dragging, half-carrying his drunk mentor out of the club, across town, and back to their inn room.
Sensei, you're lucky that I love you, otherwise I'd kill you for this…
Late the next morning, Minato sipped at his coffee and watched as his sensei staggered from the bathroom looking like death warmed-over.
I don't see why adults drink so much, he thought as he watched his sensei sit in the shadows and wait for the painkillers to kick in. They drink and make fools of themselves, puke their guts out, and then wake up feeling even worse in the morning. How is that fun?
"What did I do last night?" Jiraiya croaked.
"You really don't want to know," Minato sighed.
"Tell me anyway."
Minato told him.
"A drag queen?!" Jiraiya groaned. "You sure?"
"Positive," Minato muttered.
His sensei loved women, and loved them a lot. His womanizing skills were a point of pride. It was no wonder he was so upset at where his alcohol binge had taken him and what it had led him to do.
"This is awful," Jiraiya moaned. "Forget this ever happened. Never speak of it again."
Minato thought about all the pick-up lines and requests for him to play uke…and how hard Kushina would laugh at him if she ever found out.
"Yes," he agreed, "we never speak of it again."