Author's Note: A late Valentine's Day present from me to you!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Naruto series or any of its characters.

"You own me with whispers like poetry
Your mouth is a melody I memorize
I hear it echo everywhere I go
Day and night

Oh dear, never saw you comin'
Oh my, look what you have done
You're my favorite song
Always on the tip of my tongue
The tip of my tongue"

-The Civil Wars, Tip Of My Tongue

Seven years ago, two days after my thirteenth birthday my grandfather gave me a large box of dusty, vintage Penthouse magazines. I know he thought he was helping me out. "No more waiting anxiously for your mother's lingerie catalogs", he said with a lecherous grin. This by the way, is something I did not do. All I cared about when I was thirteen was Digimon, soccer, and ramen.

I didn't care about Victoria's Secret catalogs and I especially didn't want anything to do with the, now, geriatric soft porn models with their tan lines and massive busts. However, I did get a kick out of my dear poor grandfather's punishment that my grandmother enforced on him. One, for "rotting my brain with filth" and two, for forgetting my birthday in the first place.

A week later, I returned home from school to find on the kitchen table home-made baked pumpkin muffins on a tin platter and a photo album bound closed by a pale blue ribbon and a note that said "Sorry this is late! - Grandpa J"

The photo album contained pictures of my grandfather mimicking the poses of those models, wearing ridiculous costumes. Cowgirl, waitress, baby sitter, naughty school girl. The very last picture was one of my Grandmother smirking deviously as she holds out the camera towards herself and flashes the peace sign. Best of all, secured in a pocket on the interior of the album was $100.

That is why this night with Sasuke is the second best belated birthday present ever.

Goldschl├Ąger is delicious. It tastes like big red gum and has tiny flecks of gold floating about in it. I stare down at my empty second cup, smiling warmly and pretending that I am in the Lord of the Rings and this drink is some sort of Elvin elixir.

In the past, I wouldn't have thought twice about loudly announcing this to Sasuke. I would bluntly and without shame drunkenly slur to him that I was king of the elves and demand that he bow to me. Also, I would make him buy me pizza.

I feel so relaxed and my head is swimming. I pull myself up from my slouched position against the trunk of a large Oak tree and crawl towards Sasuke like a lethargic cat.

Sasuke peers at me through his long dark lashes and I am suddenly very aware of the fact that Sasuke is an actual elf. It's so clear to me now. How could I have not noticed?

"You have a really stupid look on your face." Sasuke says with a small crooked smile he was obviously trying to force away.

I frown, my bottom lip jutting out on its own as I continue advancing toward him until I am by his side. I wrench his cell phone from his hand and begin to type away.

"I want pizza." Send.

"You idiot!" He snatches the phone away and glowers at me. "God Dammit, Naruto. You sent that to my uncle. Son of a bitch."

Which is it, Sasuke? Is he your uncle or a son of a bitch? Or both? That's not a nice thing to say about your grandmother.

I give him a weak glare and plop down onto my back.

"You want pizza? Geez, there are other ways to tell me. Stay here, I'm going to get your note pad."

When Sasuke gets up to walk the short distance to the car, he foolishly leaves his phone on the ground next to me. I pick up it up and slide the unlock screen. Curiously, I peer at the message I sent. The name at the top of the screen states in bold white print "Madara". Madara must be his uncle's name.

I tap on the small photo icon next to Madara's name and the photo enlarges. Madara appears fairly young, perhaps in his late thirties. He is handsome with long, thick ebony tresses and dark bedroom eyes. He is not smiling in the picture, but still he is very appealing. I wonder if all of the Uchiha men are just ridiculously beautiful.

"You're pretty." Send.

I lay the phone down on my stomach and with an bored expression watch Sasuke as he makes his way back to me, small red notepad in hand.

"Here idiot...wait. What are you doing with my phone?"

As if on que, Sasuke's phone begins to vibrate on my stomach sending a jolt of surprise down my spine. I squirm and Sasuke bends down and snatches the phone back, quickly answering it.

"Yes, hello? Oh, Uncle. No sir, I'm not. I'm not. I'm not drunk, sir. It was my friend. I apologize, he's had too much to drink. What does he look like?"

Sasuke sends me a perplexed look and my reaction time was too slow to wipe the drool from my face. I'm drunk. I really am.

Appearing quite miserable, Sasuke continues his conversation with Madara. "That's not important, sir. It won't happen again. Yes. Yes I will feed him. Good night."

With an exasperated sigh Sasuke sits down next to me. "C'mon idiot. Let's go get you some damn pizza. Maybe it'll help you fucking sober up."

He grabs me by the collar of my hooded jacket and yanks me upward. Awkwardly I follow his lead to the car. I slouch in the passenger seat and force the seat back. Preparing to nap during the 15 minute trip it will take to get to Cheesy Michi's, a local pizza diner.

"You're a sloppy drunk."

I lull my head to the slide and flash him a goofy grin coupled with an overly enthusiastic shrug. As if to happily say, "Yep! I sure am!"

Sasuke smirks at me. "And a lightweight."

Stupid Sasuke. I'm too warm and fuzzy right now to hit you.

"After we eat, we should go to Wal-Mart and get some stuff for the rabbits. You better take care of them, idiot."

Yes, Mom. I roll my eyes and smile lazily. Reaching into the backseat I poke the head of one of the small sleeping rabbits. They are both male. One the hue of caramel all over and the other mostly white with a few specks of black. I am strongly resisting the urge to name him Oreo Blast. It's hard. It really, really is. They rest in a small cage, one of Itachi's thick sweatshirts serving as a blanket.

Sasuke doesn't seem to have a problem with the thought of one of them soiling the item of clothing.

Upon arriving to Cheesy Michi's, Sasuke opens the door for me. Not out of kindness or anything like that. I'm just barely awake at this point and need the extra help.

With one of Sasuke's strong arms wrapped snuggly around my side we enter the restaurant and are greeted by a good friend of mine, Choji.

"Naruto! Person I don't know! Welcome!"

I flash Chouji a large grin and tear away from Sasuke to slide across the bright yellow counter top so that I am on the other side next to Chouji. I throw myself against a large poster of a cheese pizza and nuzzle my head against it.

"One large cheese pizza coming up. Now, Naruto. Please get out from behind the counter. My mom with throw a fit."

"Goddammit, Naruto." I hear Sasuke grind out. I look up to see his alabaster cheeks flushed.

The only thing more delicious than pizza is Sasuke's embarrassment. However, I am very dizzy after that little stunt. Yeah. He's gonna have to pick me up. I muster up the biggest cloudy day puppy dog eyes I possibly can and sure enough Sasuke is bending down and helping me up. Thassa good boy. Kyuubi was right. This whole manipulative thing is awesome.

"What are you snickering about?"

He knows.

This is a disaster. Worst idea ever. I am never drinking with this fucking lightweight, drooling, rabbit loving, pizza demolishing imbecile ever again. I'm exhausted and my car smells like blue food coloring and alfalfa.

Here I stand, slightly buzzed, staring down at a passed out Naruto in my passenger seat. I have brought him back to my place because, in all honesty, I am afraid of what his mother will do to me if I bring him home in this state.

I already took the rabbits up to my apartment. Hoping by the time I came back down to the car that Naruto would be awake, but no, he's not. Of course he isn't. I lean over him, planning on shaking him awake when I notice his deeply set frown and furrowed brows. His arms are wrapped around his stomach in obvious discomfort. Figuring that he is queasy from poor alcohol tolerance, I cup his slightly feverish cheek and pat the soft skin a few times to gently lure him into consciousness. I might have a foul mouth and rude tendencies, but I'm not cold hearted. I'm not gonna rough handle a sick mute kid with big blue eyes and flushed cheeks. Not when he could puke in my car any second now.

He stirs and slowly lifts his head, his bottom lip juts out and trembles as he simultaneously looks up at me with watery cobalt eyes. I groan. That fucking baby face will be the death of me. I feel my lips pull taunt into a grimace as I look over him wearily and outstretch my arms.

"Come on, idiot. Let's get you into bed."

His head collides with my chest and I feel him nod like a needy sick child. After lugging the fully grown twenty year old idiot up three god damn flights of stairs I struggle yet succeed at opening the front door and glare at Itachi whom is lounging on the couch reading a book.

"Shut up." I say as I continue down the hall with the blonde princess-style in my arms.

I lay Naruto down onto my queen-size bed and shift my fingers through my hair. My hairline slightly damp from sweat. Naruto may be smaller than myself but he is no girl and therefore still heavy.

"Get the boy something to drink. I didn't raise you to be a bad host, Sasuke." Itachi ordered from the hallway before the sound of him shutting his own bedroom door was heard.

Stupid bossy older brother. He hardly "raised" me. Mom and dad have only been dead for five years.

I grab a shirt and pair of sweatpants out of my dresser and toss them at Naruto.

"Put these on and get under the covers. I'll be back in a few minutes. If you feel the need to puke try to either make it to the bathroom or aim for the trash bin. I don't care how cute you are, puke on my bed and I will throw you out the window. We're on the top floor idiot, think about it."

With that warning, I leave the room and head for the kitchen. I fill a mug full of water and put it in the microwave. A hot cup of tea should help soothe Naruto's stomach. When I return with the tea Naruto is burrowed under the covers and his clothes are piled in a heap on the floor.

I withhold a sigh and take a seat in my computer chair.

"Hey, Naruto. Drink this tea. It will make you feel better."

Naruto doesn't stir and I sigh, leaning back in my chair I press the mug to my lips. Swiveling to face my laptop I swipe my finger across the pad to make my screensaver disappear. I then proceed to cough and sputter. My throat stings.

Displayed on my computer screen is an opened Microsoft Document named "Gotcha". Bold Times New Roman font proclaims "So you think I'm cute? ;)"

God Fucking Dammit.

Standing up I lean over the blonde numbskull and roughly shake him. He rolls over and gives me a confused sleep-fogged look. His eyes clear of their dream induced haze and he appears to understand the cause of my flushed face. He smirks. The brat smirks.

He sluggishly sits up and looks up at me with taunting glow in the dark eyes. His tugs at the collar of my shirt and pulls me close.

"You said it. Not me." He whispers into the crook of my neck. Scowling I pull away and give him a stern look.

"So you want to play games, huh?"

I push him down and roughly capture his lips. He gasps and clenches his eyes tightly shut as I delve my tongue into the warm wet cavern of his mouth. I press my chest against his and slide my hands underneath to cup his ass, pulling his pelvis up against my own. Forcing a knee between his legs.

He begins to push against my chest and softly rasps against my lips, "Dizzy."

I sit up and observe him. His eyes are half mast and dark with lust, hair mussed even more than it already was. His face is flushed. Lips are red. My dark grey shirt has ridden up, exposing his stomach and to my surprise, dark swirling tattoo.

I tilt my head in a purposely condescending manner and smirk down at him wolfishly. He frowns, not appreciating the flash of amusement in my eyes. Chuckling quietly to myself I completely remove myself from him, get up, and leave the room.

Damn right you're dizzy.