disclaimer: disclaimed.
dedication: les. for her birthday. let the angst begin.
notes: i cannot stress how sexy this pairing is, okay.
notes2: the timeline of this story is going to be strange. This one happened in college—they're both twenty.

title: disaster boy
summary: Twenty years, sinking slowly. — Sasuke/Kiba.






The fact was: this relationship was pretty fucked up.

Kiba opened his eyes to sunlight and the haze of a hangover. His head pounded. It was too bright.

He was going to be sick.

Kiba rolled over, trying not to retch.

And very nearly fell into Sasuke.

Kiba groaned.

He hated mornings like this.

/ / /

"This is what, the fifth time?"


"What'd you do this time?"

Sasuke shot him a dark glare. Kiba held his hands up in mock surrender, grinning like a manic with two cups of shitty instant coffee sitting on the table between them.

"This shit all you got?" Sasuke asked.

"We ain't even got Smirnoff left," Kiba snorted. "And that shit's undrinkable. We drank this place fuckin' dry."

It was nothing new. The two men had been friends since elementary (albeit unwillingly—Kiba hadn't wanted his elder sister dating Sasuke's jerk-off elder brother. Sasuke had wanted it even less), and high school had not been kind. College was even less so, but at least drinking copious amounts of alcohol as a coping mechanism was more socially acceptable.

(Black-out drunk was a Saturday night tradition. Didn't you know?)

So waking up hungover and half-naked was nothing special.

Kiba took a long drink of coffee. It was black as sludge but thin, weak. It was disgusting and he drank it only because it was something to pass the time. Sasuke would eventually relay the problem that had him drinking a fool of himself.

Sasuke opened his mouth.

So predictable. Kiba smirked.

"Karin's crazy," Sasuke said flatly.

Kiba raised an eyebrow. "Dude, she's dating Suigetsu. And she's related to you. No offense, but she's gotta have some crazy in her."

This statement did not seem to please Sasuke.

Kiba didn't really care.

(Because honestly, what pleased Sasuke, really?)

"Watch your mouth."

"Yeah, yeah, that's my sister you're talking about and all that crap. So whad'ya do to piss her off now?"


Kiba squinted at him, eyes dark and suspicious. Sasuke had always been a decent liar. His poker face was unmatched—a hundred dollars and a guitar lost at cards said rightfully so. But there seemed to be something else; Sasuke's face was not the perfect blankness that he maintained during any and all card games, but more like a bewildered, quiet blankness that spoke of absolute cluelessness.

"What, you didn't do shit?"

"No," said Sasuke, shaking his head slowly. "Nothing."

Which was weird.

Kiba had known Karin for literally almost as long as he'd known Sasuke. Karin was loud, roudy, and violent on a good day—her consistent sluttiness had been a topic of much discussion when they were younger, to Sasuke's unending rage. And while she was a crazy bitch (she was dating Suigetsu; that had not put Sasuke in a good mood, either, Kiba remembered with a sense of humoured nostalgia), she was not irrational.

Sasuke must have done something.

Kiba took another long drink of the shitty coffee.

"Seen Kin recently?"

For his trouble, Kiba got a stink-eye. He laughed outright. "Christ, Sasuke. Karin hates her."

"Yeah, well," said Sasuke, glaring at a burn-mark on the table. Kiba vaguely remembered something about candle-wax—there was no explaining what they did when they were drunk.

(Weird shit.)

The two men shrugged and sat back, drinking shitty coffee, comfortable in each other presence.

"You seeing whatshername, tonight?"

Kiba grinned like a dolt. "Yeah. Shino's got a thing. You should come."

Sasuke sent him a deadpan look, like do I look like the sort of fucker to go to frat parties? And Kiba shrugged, because extending the offer was something that friends did, and Shino liked his parties loud—which on its own was weird shit, because Shino spent his time learning.

But music seemed to touch them all.

Kiba looked at Sasuke over the top of his mug, and quirked an eyebrow.

Sasuke quirked one in return.

"Seriously, bro. Come. We can get trashed again."

This was probably not helping his case, but one of Sasuke's few weaknesses was alcohol. He may have hated people, but alcohol—that was a different story entirely.

"Fuck you," said Sasuke.

And Kiba knew he had won.

He threw back his head and crowed delight. It was too loud for such a shitty morning, but it was something and hell, something was better than nothing.

"C'mon," Kiba grinned. "We got shit to do."

And they did.

They spent the afternoon loudly killing each other at HALO; enemies and aliens alike went down when they were teamed together, but when they were against each other, shit got real.

It was probably a metaphor for their entire friendship.

They were half-drunk and ridiculous by the time they stumbled onto the university campus nearly twelve hours later; Kiba with one arm around his laughing blonde girlfriend and the other around Sasuke's shoulders. Tomorrow didn't feel real; the future didn't exist and the only thing that mattered was jumping right in.

Kiba's girlfriend danced in the strobe and they got lost.

Sasuke found Kiba drunk and laughing after a keg stand.

"The fuck d'you think you're doing?" he asked over the pounding bass from somewhere far away.

"Drinking," Kiba grinned. "Here."

Sasuke didn't even know what it was—it tasted like stout and rum and it was disgusting so he chugged it just because he could. "Motherfu—"

"Such a pussy," Kiba snickered.

Sasuke rolled his eyes and cuffed the idiot over the head. He watched him stumble towards the lovely blonde dancer—Ino, always Ino; always had been, always would be. There was a quiet sickness in his stomach that he couldn't place.

He drank some more to placate it.

They might have partied all night for all either of them knew.

Sasuke found himself splayed out on the couch, surrounded by his stupid friends and the stupid music and the stupid light and—fuck.

"—I have to go home. I have a dance recital in the morning—"

Sasuke tipped his head and caught sight of his really stupid friend's girlfriend leaning over his really stupid friend's half-dead body and smiling (and no, he wasn't talking about Naruto; that idiot was curled around some tiny girl with dark hair and had been passed out for three hours. Kiba was his really stupid friend).

"'Kay, fuck, I'll drive you—" Kiba muttered, trying to get up.

He failed miserable, and Ino giggled. "Are you stupid? You can't even stand. Don't worry, Sakura's sober, she'll get me home—"

"You sure?"

"Of course, idiot," she said fondly. Bright blue eyes caught Sasuke's gaze, and a smile curved her pale cheek. "Take care of him, okay? I don't want him to die but I really have to go…"

And Sasuke nodded, because that was what he did; he took care of Kiba's stupid, drunk ass, no matter how stupid and drunk he himself was.

Ino smirked and reached over to pinch his cheek and Sasuke batted her away because he'd always hated that and Kiba reached for her to kiss her, sloppy and whiskey-breath. She giggled against his mouth because that's how Ino was—giggles and glitter and whisper-warmth, photograph-perfect in the strobe, a flash of rainbow light in a world of grey.

Kiba kissed her again, fingers curling in a streaming halo of gold. "Love you," he mumbled.

She smiled, gold and forever, and kissed his temple.

And then she was gone, fluttering a hand over her shoulder, graceful and frail. Kiba watched her go with an intense hunger. Then he looked over and gave Sasuke a slow, indolent smirk and tipped his beer bottle at him in a lazy salute.

Sasuke raised his own bottle in reply.

The glass clinked in a very satisfying way.

They both knocked it back.

And the night went on.

/ / /

Sasuke woke in Kiba's bed with a pounding headache and a pounding on the apartment door.

(Not the first time. Not the last time. Again and again.)

"Fuck—what—hold on—"

And he stumbled out, bleary-eyed and exhausted, to unlock the door (fuck, where was Kiba) and let whoever it was in.

His really stupid friend was white-faced and frozen, and the pounding ceased as he fell into Sasuke's shoulder.

"I fucked up," he said.


"I fucked up and she's dead. She's dead. She's dead."

Sasuke pulled him to the kitchen with the shitty table and made another cup of shitty coffee and fuck if this was not normal. But Kiba was staring dead-eyed at the floor, white-knuckled and emotionless and it was fucking strange.

"She's dead," he said again.

The strange calm lingered. The walls were colourless. Grey light filtered in and it was cold and impersonal. Sasuke set a chipped mug in front of Kiba, but he didn't touch it. He didn't even move.

"She's dead 'cause I was too drunk to drive her home, Sasuke," Kiba said. And then he dropped his face to the tabletop, stained and burnt, and started to shake.

They sat there, at the table in the cold light, for a very long time.

Nothing was going to be the same, anymore.

Sasuke rested a hand on Kiba's shoulder. He'd never been good at comfort.

"Want a cigarette?"

Kiba didn't even move.

Sasuke went to the window, shoved it open, and lit a cigarette.

The smoke tasted like never-after.

Kiba took the cancer-stick from his fingers and took one long drag.

And then he got up, and left.







notes2: welp. it begins again.
notes3: please don't Favourite/Alert without leaving a review!