Woo! Update! ;D hehe

This is, by far, the longest one yet. Ready? Haha. I hope you guys are!

Warnings: Graphic shit and lots of angsty emotions.

&Forwards we go! :D


Time flew.

I spent the first five minutes of class rubbing the sleeve of my sweater against my lips. The next five were spent trying to figure out why I even did.

Itachi was late. He was never late. I shifted awkwardly in my seat, trying to get a better look out the window across from me. Sakura happened to be sitting right next to it. She gave me a look. I took the hint and turned away.


Now I was a loser and a stalker.

She whispered sharply to the girl sitting next to her. I could feel her eyes on me, the trace of a scowl marking against her face. Two pairs of accusing looks directed themselves towards me seconds later. Caving me in, hating me. I sank into my seat, burning quietly in the fire of embarrassment as I hid my face into the cradle of my arms.

One of them laughed. Not sure which one.

I hope it wasn't Sakura..

"My apologies, class. Good afternoon."

My head lifted itself, carefully, towards the familiar voice coming from the front of the room. It was him.


I felt my eyes watering, the hair on the back of my neck standing. My skin tightened. My heart must have done a flip or two. Lips pulled to the side, breath hitching. I retreated into myself as quickly as possible, a cowering bug looking for refuge inside of its withering shell.

I watched in hopeless fascination as he pocketed away his cellphone, quick to end a call before he did so. He looked like he always did, if it wasn't for a very, very faint smile that was brief enough to have passed for a fickle trick of the room's peculiar lighting. My eyes narrowed, and I wondered who it was that had been on the other end of the line.

He wore dark jeans, worn down at the knees, stained strategically at the thighs. A black scarf decorated his neck, along with a white sweater that pressed firmly against his figure. Its wooly exterior reminded me of the snow that fell warily during the late winter, and for a quick moment I wondered how it would have felt like at the end of my fingers..

He pulled a stack of papers from the bag he'd been carrying and proceeded to pass them across the room. He moved faster than usual. His hair was hardly tied. Loose strands framed his face, a face so consuming. I looked away when he walked by my desk, though I doubt he took notice.

I was so bitter. I was so nervous and eager. I was so hellishly in lo-

"Naruto, your hood, please."

There was a long silence. A thousand eyes turned towards me. I heard the loud creaking of necks turning like the reels on a dying train. My throat swallowed a wad of something thick and dry. Something painful. Bit my lip, stared down at the desk for the life of me, and slowly lowered the hood I didn't know existed from off my head.

As soon as Itachi said his next word, I flew out the classroom in a stormy blur. Unexcused. Ashamed.

I couldn't see the hallways as I ran. I tripped once. Maybe twice. It was so cold outside. When my back hit the brick of the restroom's hall, I blamed the water that fell from my eyes.

I slumped down until I couldn't slump any more. My shoulders shook in sporadic waves. The sound of someone sobbing flooded the hallway. But when I looked through the drenched visage of my itchy eyes to see who it was that was crying so loudly, I could see no one but myself there.

I've yet to know how much time passed until the tears just wouldn't fall anymore.


Kiba asked me why my eyes were so red, but I said nothing.

I stared blankly at the white paper that rested against my desk. I hadn't touched it since I came back in. Itachi hadn't said anything when I did. I didn't dare look, but I knew that he was at his desk.

"You look like shit man," Kiba whispered again, "You okay? You look like your mom just died, or something."

"She did."

I could hear the shock stuck in his throat. I felt another sob coming, but I held it down. I wanted to leave. To run home, to hang myself.

"Sorry, man," he continued. I heard him put his pencil down. "Why'd you run out like that? Thought the teach' was gonna drag you back in by the balls from the way he looked at the door when you let it slam. You know that thing's hella loud, man."

"Dunno." It hurt to talk. Felt like a bug was scratching at my throat. I tried swallowing it down. "I got sick."

Kiba seemed to have believed what I said because he didn't say another word. I continued to stare at the paper as if it were to whisper the cure to misery right into my ear at any second. The scratching of pencils flooded the room. I could feel my jaw tightening for a reason that was still yet vague.

All I knew was that I would never pick up a pencil ever again.


The voice was soft. Deep, gentle, and dreadfully familiar. The ball of shit in my chest fluttered to life at the very sound of it. But I didn't dare look up. No reason to. I was dead.

"Naruto," it repeated.

I hate my name.


There was a pause. A hesitant one.

"Your paper. It's blank."


Whoever it was, I could feel the frustration forming on their face.

"I'll have to fail you for the day if you don't begin now."

"Fail me, then. I don't care."

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Did it even matter, though? Would it had changed anything at all if I had held them back..? Why was I alive?

"You'll be excused if you don't-"

"Fine! I'll do it, shit!"

My hand snatched the pencil from somewhere on my desk, knuckles growing white as I gripped violently onto it. Lead finally met paper, and a hard line began to appear on its surface. Graphite dust followed the dark mark from the exerted friction. My eyes were intent on nothing, hand swaying harshly in random directions as I drew formless markings. Itachi said nothing, though I could feel his incisive gaze resting upon me.

I didn't stop until my pencil broke, and still, he said nothing.

The last thing I remember was watching him walk back to his desk, complimenting Sakura on the work she had done so far before he disappeared from my line of vision.

This time, I wiped the tears away before they had the opportunity to fall.

The bell rang moments later and I immediately stood up. I tossed my backpack on in a messy blur, looking only at the door that everyone was already flooding to escape from. I would have given virtually anything to fly out of there, to crash through the roof and plummet into some river cold enough for hypothermia to settle in.

I was a few feet away when Itachi stopped me with that voice of his. So calm. Serene. Soft.

I froze, watching as the last person dashed out the door. I took another step, hoping he hadn't called my name, that it had all been inside my head. But this time, his voice grew greater in volume.

A demanding utterance. Almost cold. Almost angry, I couldn't really tell.

I turned, slowly, staring down at my feet.

"Come here."

I didn't take my eyes off the floor when I obeyed. My entire body began to shake. A mixture of fear and hopelessness overcame me, ate me, I could feel the blood in my face freezing.

The warmth of a tear, however, warmed me when it streamed down towards my chin.

"I'd like to.. have a talk with you, Naruto," he said.

I felt myself standing directly in front of his desk by then. I hadn't the strength to wipe my eyes anymore, so I watched the tears just fall to the ground instead.

"Look." I did. It was the drawing from earlier. "This. What is this?" I looked towards the ground again, burying my eyes deep down into the floor. I held a hiccup hostage inside my throat. "I see no attempt. No care at all given."

I would have cared before. But I didn't care anymore. I say nothing, only biting the inside of my cheek as hard as I could without drawing too much blood into my mouth.

"Naruto, look at me-"

And by god, I do.

I look at him, into his beautiful, cherry eyes with my own bloodshot ones; those of which are smeared blue with pain. He stares at me, his mouth parting. I felt like keeling over dead then because he now knows that I am crying.

He says absolutely nothing, his Adam's apple bobbing discretely within his throat in visible hesitation. I know I'll die wondering how it would have felt like to kiss it..

"I'm sorry," I croak, wiping at the left side of my face. "You can fail me. I don't mind."


"I.. I'm sorry for cursing at you," my voice is breaking, sorrow laced at the end of each word, "I didn't m-mean it."

A sob comes, it escapes me, and he hears it. I catch my breath, desperate to gain control of my body. But I just can't. The tears keep coming. Can't wipe them fast enough.


"Why..? Why did you leave that night? Why..?" I'm pleading, I'm begging, but I can't look at him. Can't look at him because I love him. "Why.."

Because I love him so much.

My hands shake. My knees lust for the ground, ready to wash his feet with my hair if he needs. And somewhere within the muffled sorrow in my ears, he finally speaks. To me.

"Naruto, I care for you.. deeply."

"Then w-why don't you just-"

Love me. Kiss me. Hold me.

Run away with me.

"I'd like you to redo this, Naruto." I hear him carefully stand, sliding the paper on his desk towards my direction. "You're worth more than this."

And I die. Again.

"I'm worth NOTHING!" All I hear is myself screaming, breathing loudly. Snarling like a dog as I tear the paper in his face. "JUST AN UGLY PIECE OF SHIT!"

As I spear out of the room I hear him slamming something heavy against his desk, a long curse hissed beneath his breath in a silent rage I would never come to hear him use again.

I didn't look back even as the flock of people standing outside stared at me incredulously through the hammering rain. Only the large tree in the faraway field lied clear in my vision.

The one Sasuke said he'd be waiting in.


Mom said I was born during a rainy day. One in which the sun shone bright in the horizon.

She said I wasn't painful at all because she was too busy looking at the sun from outside the hospital's window. That the color she'd seen through her eyes must have traveled straight down to me and caused the color of my hair right when I had 'popped out'.

She also told me that she had drank a lot of water all throughout her pregnancy in order to get my eyes to be as blue as my father's. That it worked. That I had the prettiest eyes. That I would grow up to be more handsome than my dad ever was.

I believed her for the longest time.

That is, until I stopped being a complete and utter idiot.

My clothes were drenched by then. I must have weighed an extra twenty pounds. I could feel my shoes soaking out water every time I stepped down. Couldn't even catch a breath because of all the water, but somehow, I made it to the field.

I saw Sasuke standing by the tree, his back resting against it as he puffed casually on a cigarette. When he finally saw me set foot in the muddy, worm-covered grass, he mashed it against the tree and came jogging towards me.

I tucked away the hurt as much as I possibly could and gave him a weak smile. His lip tugged sharply to the side, crisp teeth glowing. He looked a little evil, like he was ready to kick my ass and dump my dismembered body in a bin. He didn't, though, so I deemed that was as close as he got to an actual smile.

He was wearing a black hoodie with Marilyn Manson's logo on it, tight jeans, and a silver cross around his neck. He never once did fail at making me look like a sad joke.

He walked with me without a word until we both reached the dry haven underneath the huge oak tree. That's when he popped out another cigarette, lit it, puffed it four times, eyed me up and down, chuckled (for a reason I still can't figure out), until, finally, he spoke.

"You look like a corpse."

I said nothing, my eyes falling slowly towards the dirty grass.

"I like corpses."

I looked up, watching him as he took a long drawl of his cigarette. I was entirely speechless at his comment.

"So, you wanna go to the movies? I have forty on me."

He stared right at me, his eyes like flesh-cutting scissors. I don't think he blinked the entire time. I marveled at his hair, how it lied completely unhindered by the rain that had caught solid ground on it.

"I don't-"

"Well, what about the mall?"

"I just-"

"The skating rink? They just opened it up."

"Sasuke, I-"

"Or we can just walk around. I don't mind." He took another long drawl of smoke, his shoulder balancing him rather casually against the thick trunk of the tree.

"I just.. I want to go home. I came here to tell you that."

He stared at me for the longest moment, forcing me to fidget underneath his gaze. I actually feared for my life for the flash of a second and thought about running. But to my surprise, a moment later, he smirked, taking a last puff of his cigarette before crushing it underneath his heel.

"My place? My room's big."

I looked at him almost curiously, wondering if he had even heard me.


"My brother won't be there. The house is ours."

I turned towards the rain and looked back towards him again, opening my mouth to state the obvious, though I didn't get the chance to as he had somehow managed to read my mind.

"We're not walking, moron. I called a taxi. It's here."

I couldn't say anything. Don't know if it was the fact that my word seemed to be entirely weightless against his, or if I was just too broken and alone to argue about it any further.

"Okay," I nodded.

He grinned, leading me towards the cab right outside the school's gates.


Sasuke's house was a mansion.

He said it wasn't (and also that I was stupid or thinking that it was), but in my eyes, his place could have passed for a castle.

A two-story leviathan with marbled floor and fine carpeting.

When we first arrived outside his house I sincerely thought we were going to a surprise visit to a fancy museum of some kind. A whole neighborhood of them, at that.

I stood dumbly in the middle of what seemed to be the guest room, admiring all of the artwork hung all around the walls.

I immediately recognized the majority of them as Itachi's own personal work.

Some, however, differed in style, though clearly revolved around the same technique. I hardly remembered Sasuke was still there until he nudged me hard on the shoulder, an annoyed tinge in his voice.

"Let's get something to drink, come on."

We stopped at a glass cupboard somewhere in the corner of the livingroom which contained several which fancy bottles locked up inside of it. A huge grin marked Sasuke's face the moment he reached down inside a flower vase to get a hold of a tiny key. I watched quietly as he pried open the lock, successfully opening the glass doors.

"You like whiskey? Wine? Or some other shit?" he asked, reaching to bring down two shots from somewhere in the cupboard.

I instinctively backed up, recognizing now that he was talking about hard alcohol. The stuff my parents had always warned me about since the age of one.

"I.. don't drink," I managed, looking away bravely as he handed me a glass.

I only peeked towards him once to catch sight of the frown against his face. A frown that immediately caused me to accept the gesture without further hesitation.

I wasn't ready to lose my only ever friend, and I knew it.

He brought three different bottles with him One that was half empty and the two others that were completely unopened. I shivered at the thought of whose alcohol that actually belonged to and nearly started crying right on the spot.

I hadn't the strength to think of him. Of Itachi..

"Ever been wasted?" Sasuke said out of nowhere, throwing himself on the livingroom couch.

I shook my head to the side once as I carefully took a seat on the opposite sofa, fearful that I might taint its perfect exterior with the grime and dirt stuck to my clothes. Sasuke chuckled darkly to himself, pouring himself a clear liquid that smelled strongly of alcohol and a lot of money.

"Did you know? That my brother's a fucking drunk?" he laughed, swallowing the entire thing in one go. "Can't go a single night without wasting his ass." I watched as he whipped out a cigarette from his back-pocket, lighting it as if smoking and drinking at the same time were an every day thing to him.

I looked away rather shyly, awkwardly rubbing the side of my arm. I didn't believe him. About Itachi.

"Get some," he muttered. His eyes narrowed as he took another drawl, his lips forming into a perfect shape as he exhaled some of the smoke from his lungs. He looked like the poster-boy of what every girl wanted. Of what every girl would kill for. "Don't worry, I won't tell him. He won't even notice. Too fucking stupid, more than you, even."

I pressed my lips at the insults, finding myself to be hurt more at the fact that he insulted Itachi rather than me. I tried to forget, however, for just a moment, and before I knew it, my hand was already holding on to the half-empty bottle.

Sasuke's brow rose, a grin on his face as he puffed out more smoke.

"Bet you can't chug for five seconds," he said, opening a bottle of his own as he took a long, noisy gulp of it without repercussion. "Dare you."

The throat-cutting liquid was already sliding down my stomach by the time he had said those last two words.


There was a movie playing in the background, I could hear it even behind the loud pounding going on in my brain.

I don't remember how much alcohol I had downed, but it was definitely enough to have me hysterically laughing at any dumb thing Sasuke pulled from out of his ass.

There was rapid gunfire blaring from the gigantic-sized plasma screen as he went on and on about stories that I can hardly recall him talking about, let alone, understand. It took me a long while to even notice that he no longer had his hoodie on, or even a shirt of any kind.

I was beginning to feel hot. A string of sweat slipped from the side of my temple, and the need to tear off my sweater grew tenfold when I finally set down the nearly-empty bottle of alcohol somewhere on the ground. I think it spilled over because Sasuke gave out a wailing fit of laughter almost immediately.

"Dude, dude.." he chuckled, pointing at the liquid pouring onto the clean carpet, "Dude."

I absently looked down towards where he was pointing, a strange noise that resembled a type of disoriented laugh escaping my throat at the sight of the emptying bottle.

Eventually, I could no longer bear the heat of my sweater and managed to somehow find my way out of it. I didn't miss the way Sasuke had been staring at my struggle, a cigarette balanced between his long fingers as he silently studied my every move.

His sudden change of mood was a bit daunting, to say the least. He had gone from a laughing jest to a quiet observer. I looked away, begging my body to cool itself down at least by a little bit. The sweat just kept falling. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, eyes intent on the hazing screen of the television. I thought about mentioning my urgent need to go home, but before I could..

"Your dad ever try to fuck you?" he asked nonchalantly, his eyes dark and unblinking as he puffed another cloud of smoke.

I, on the other hand, nearly choked on my own spit.


He said nothing, his left brow risen above his narrowed eyes, waiting for an answer.

"My dad's dead."

"Your mom?"

My hand trembled at the mention of my mother. That must have been what fury felt like. "She's dead.."

There was a silence. Sasuke turned off the tv. I felt myself scooting away from the couch, clenching my eyes shut to stabilize my vision. I began to feel weird just being around him. Like I needed to run out of there. The mood had changed dramatically in a matter of seconds.

I looked towards the small table in the middle of the room. I was pretty sure there had been only one earlier before.. but now there were two.

"Cancer took my mom. Dad hung himself the next day" he grinned. I swear I heard him laugh right after. I still hope to this day that it was just me and my drunken haze on reality.

"But Itachi said that-"

"Itachi's a fucking idiot. He lives in the clouds, drawing little pictures that no one could give their last shit about."

I bit my tongue, but I could feel myself glaring at him.

"Can't wait to get out of this dump. I'm gonna be famous," he smirked, sitting up on the couch. I tried hard not to stare, inevitably noticing that he had a body that I could only but miserably hope of one day attaining. "Sing a couple of shitty songs and make millions."

I looked towards the ground, fiddling awkwardly with my fingers. I began to feel dizzy, and the mere thought of standing up made my head sting as if someone had stuck a nail right through it. My body heightened further in temperature seconds later, and that's when I noticed that Sasuke had taken a seat right next to me.

I froze. Sweat streamed down my neck. I was dying to take my shirt off, dying for cold water. That's when I felt Sasuke's breath tickling right against my ear, breath laced in the bitter reek of the alcohol we'd been drinking.

His hand reached for my chin, forcing me to face him. The whole room was quiet as he stared right at me with those black, bottomless eyes that only he had. Air became stagnant, forcing me to breathe heavily against him. I could only but helplessly watch as he inched closer and closer towards me, lips like red wine. Skin like diamond dust. Hair like black chalk.

I couldn't think clearly, only sheer pain stemmed from the strain of thought, so I kissed him.

He latched on to my lips in a wet tangled mess, saliva dripping from both our mouths in a hungry search for something that I don't think was ever there. His hands reached for my waist, pulling me against him, leaving a trail of his hot skin against my back and on to the back of my neck.

He was pressing so hard against me that I could hardly breathe at that point. His mouth nuzzled me as his perfect nose stole the air from my own, forcing me to gasp and to plead for the carbonated air coming from his mouth. His tongue dug itself into my throat, nearly choking me as he licked at the inner walls of my cheeks. Grazed against my teeth, sucked on my tongue hard enough for it to sting.

A noise vibrated in my throat and that seemed to have encouraged him further. He returned the gesture; a long, groaning howl escaping him as he pushed me off of the couch and onto the carpeted floor. He immediately broke the kiss to peel my shirt off in a wild frenzy, pinning me down to the ground with his weight straddled on top of me.

I gasped for air, watching him watching me. His eyes lied narrowed in lust, skin damp with sweat.

My mind spun. I couldn't feel a brain in my skull, just an agonizing mass of heavy rock weighing my head down into a dull, painful vertigo. I could feel palms rubbing against my stomach and chest in a frenetic, violent craze. I tried to say his name, to tell him to slow down, but only a gasp of dry air managed to wheeze out of my throat.

He leaned down several times to kiss me, each time hoping somewhere inside that he wouldn't do it again. But he did. Time and time again.

His hands rushed to the button of my pants as I stared dizzily at the ceiling, mouth open wide for any drop of precious air that I could catch in my lungs.

I felt his fingers dig into the waist of my jeans, pushing down, pulling and pulling, until they finally slipped right off. I squirmed from beneath him, but he wouldn't budge. His weight must have been twice that of my own.

A panic began to settle in.

"Sa-Sas.." he looked towards me, leaning in, breathing the air I worked so hard to attain. "Plea-please.."

"Hold on," he whispered, balancing back up on his knees. "These things are a bitch to take off."

I watched in a haze of different colors as he began to unbutton his skinnies, white hands fumbling with the zipper. I clenched my eyes closed, trying to stop my head from spinning.

With a string of curses I felt his bare legs against my own seconds later. The panic increased when he splayed his weight on top of me, his knee kicking my thighs far apart from each other. I watched him in utter terror as he reached down from between him, a hard pole of what was more than likely his dick pressing along my pelvis, searching and prodding for something I didn't even want to think about.

I squirmed, reacting violently to the action. He paused for just a moment, a confused look on his face.

"What..?" he whispered.

"What.. What are you doing..?" I managed, my throat so dreadfully dry.

"What do you think, moron?"

That's when his cock pressed against the crack of my ass, pushing against a place that I knew I didn't want him in. I reached to push his chest away, squirming to get him off.

"S-stop.. please.."

Sasuke froze completely.

He looked at me, a coldness in his eyes as his hand reached to choke against my neck.

"You like fucking with me, don't you?" he hissed, his face less than an inch away from my own. "Fucking think I'm some kind of joke, huh?"

I shook my head, a whimper escaping me as he slowly began to let go. His brows furrowed in a tight fury.

And just as quickly as it happened, he got off of me, reaching for his shirt from somewhere on the ground. I immediately sat up, breathless.


"Fuck you. Get out of my house."

"B-but, Sasu-"

"I said, GET OUT!"

I begged my eyes to focus, and when they did, I saw his face. His eyes. Tears falling from them.

He was crying.

Sasuke was.. crying.

I stumbled to my feet to reach for him, to spill a million apologies into his ears, to beg for him not to hate me. That I was sorry, that it was all my fault, that I was an idiot-

"Don't fucking touch me," he snarled, pushing me roughly away from him. "Get. Out. Now."

I felt like I would die. Die right then, from both heartache and something else entirely. I would do anything. Anything at all. I could already feel the tears that I thought I'd run out of frantically spilling from my face.

Loneliness. Losing him. My friend. Sasuke.. Our promise.

"Sasuke," I pleaded, falling to my knees, "Please.. I'm sorry.."

I literally clung to his legs, pride and dignity destroyed and offered at his feet. He stared incredulously at me from above, unsure of what to do as my hands snaked to his boxers, desperately pulling them down until they hit his ankles.

I remember it being thick, leaking with clear fluids. I remember looking up at him, pleading, as I started sucking. Loudly, quickly. Tears falling at his feet.

Sasuke's back hit the wall, an exasperated noise escaping him as I sucked desperately at the head, dipping my tongue in the slit just enough to feel him tremble against me. I mocked what Itachi once did, what I remembered in my intoxicated state, looking into Sasuke's eyes as I took him as far as I could without puking on him.

His mouth snapped open, a string of shameless moans falling into the silence of the room as my lips wrapped tightly against him. Milking him slowly, tasting him, wanting him to forgive me.

His hands tangled themselves in my hair, pushing me in until my chin pressed firmly against his balls. My eyes clenched shut, my throat clutching on to his cock like a lifeline as I struggled for air.

"F-fuck.. Naruto.."

He rolled his hips, and with a long howl of raw need, a hot, creamy liquid shot right down my aching esophagus. I gagged desperately against him, but he kept me in place.

And right when I finally felt the thick knot of Sasuke's seed disappear somewhere from within me, the gasp of a woman froze my heart into a cold, dreary death that I truly wish would've ended me.

Sasuke immediately let go of me. Time froze, and I dared myself to turn.

A woman with royal-blue hair stood in the hallway that led to the livingroom, her fingers pressed softly against her pierced lip as she quickly turned away in sheer shock.

Itachi stood next to her...

Holding her hand.


Yeah, um.. o-o

I think I'm dead right now. Though, if you leave a comment, I might just revive.. About 8 chapters more to go, give or take. xx