dedication: to Rhea, Paige and Luce!
summary: Baby did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
notes: because I have ALWAYS wanted to write something like this. It's tagged under SasuSaku because, duh, it'll have eventual SasuSaku. If it bothers anyone that it's tagged as such without there being no face sucking, I really don't care. And I'm only saying that coz I've seen people being little runts about the character filters? ANYWAY enjoy, I promise it's worth it ;3;




swiggity swag—





Sasuke jolted up from the futon couch, his eyes wide and bloodshot hair sticky with something like chocolate syrup and his jeans successfully missing. He inhaled air, coughing at the smell of something dying; he covered the bottom half of his face with a hand, narrowing his eyes as he stood from the futon couch and… paused.

The house was a mess.

Not surprising—the house was always a mess, but this… God, this was a mess.

Empty beer bottles, beer cans, rum bottles, red party cups, chip bags, dip jar—apparently what was in his hair was dip and not chocolate syrup—a tub of chocolate syrup—no, apparently, it actually was chocolate syrup—a packet of peppered salami and a slice of bread.


Everything was everywhere and Naruto was sleeping with his ass in the air, a bowl over his head and a film of drool at the side of his lip. Kiba was passed out on the bar, his head right smack on the cool surface of the table and Neji seemed to have only made it halfway up the stairs and… Where the fuck was Suigetsu?

Still covering his mouth, he made his way into the kitchen, stopping upon watching Suigetsu stand by the stove, half asleep, and a pot of boiling water—or what was boiling water—on the stove, the flames up high.

Apparently what smelt like something dying was just burning and, lo and behold, it was fucking Suigetsu's fault.

As always.

Sasuke groaned, stalking the rest of the way inside the kitchen, the feet padding against the black and white checkered tiled-floor. He twisted the knob of the stove, turning the flames off and shoving Suigetsu so his side would smash with the counter.

"'Scuse you!"

"Way to almost kill us, you asswipe."

Suigetsu rubbed at his face, sparing him another glare before snatching a packet of ramen out of one of the cupboards, opening it and walking back to the pot, intent on throwing it in. He paused when he noticed there was no water and the stove was off.

"You!" He turned towards Sasuke, a finger pointing at him and his violet eyes narrowed with annoyance and hunger. "You turned m'stove off! I was makin' some damn ramen—I'm hungover and m'hungry! Why'd you move back over here y'sack of shit I can't fucking believe you just—"

Sasuke slapped a hand on Suigetsu's mouth. "Shut. Up."


He wrinkled his nose, snatching his hand away when he felt Suigetsu lick at his palm.

"You disgusting piece of shit."

Suigetsu chuckled, grabbing the handle of the pot and turning towards the sink to refill it with water. "Y'got chocolate all over y'er hair. S'funny."

"Fuck you."

Someone groaned behind them and they both turned around to watch as Kiba raised his head from the bar, rubbing at his face and licking his dry lips.

"I feel like shit."

"You are shit," Sasuke and Suigetsu said at the same time.

The insult flew over Kiba's head as he slid off the barstool and disappeared. They walked as he walked right over to Naruto, kicking his ass until Naruto sat up, kneeling and smacking his lips together and half of his face hiding under a bowl.

"Wha's goin' on?" he asked in a sleepy drawl, voice breathy as if he was falling asleep again. The slow snore confirmed that.

"Hey, asshole," Kiba said, kicking him again. "Wake up and make some grilled cheese!"

At this, Suigetsu perked up, throwing the pack of ramen behind him—it landed on top of the fridge—and whistled innocently as if he hadn't been trying to make his own breakfast for who knew how long. Sasuke rolled his eyes, walking around the bar and sliding onto one of the stools.

At the mention of food, Naruto shot up and off the ground, running the back of his hand against his mouth and scratching at his stomach.

"Okay," he said, rearranging the bowl so that it wouldn't cover his head. "Someone get the bacon ready and all the cheeses. I'm fucking hun—Neji's on the stairs again."

Sasuke crossed his arms on the surface of the bar, using them as a pillow as he rested his forehead over them. He then proceeded to listen to his friends make complete asses of themselves in their attempt to cook while still being half-drunk.

There was chocolate syrup in his hair… Sasuke knew his friends were never going to change, those fucking assholes.




The rest of the day was about them sleeping and only waking up to take a piss or find some more food.

Sasuke didn't even know how the chaos from the night before happened—he had arrived with the last few boxes of his stuff. See, when he was thirteen, Sasuke and his family moved to Oto. They lived there for a good amount of time until his parents decided to come back home. But now that he's twenty-one, Sasuke decided he'd live with his stupid friends who already moved in together in a house.

"It'll be like a frat house but without rules," Naruto had roared into the phone loud enough to make Sasuke's ear pop.

That had been over a month or two ago and now here he was, sleeping on his mattress as it laid on the floor without the bedframes, hungover and kind of hungry again. But the kitchen was too far and there were stairs involved and that sounded like a lot of work.

The house looked small but it was massive inside—five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a basement, a laundry room and a garage. The yard didn't matter because it looked plain and if his mother ever saw it, she'd make it her duty to plant things and force them to take care of them.

Naturally, Suigetsu got the bedroom on the ground floor—closest to the kitchen. On the second floor, Neji had the one closest to the stairs and right across from him was Kiba. Naruto's room was further down the hall—impossible to miss because he left a trail of clothes in his wake. And making a nice turn was Sasuke's new room—filled with boxes and a mattress on the floor.

He sighed, rolling around so he lay on his stomach, arms hugging his pillow. The quick shower made his headache go away, not to mention the fucking chocolate in his hair—why had there been chocolate in his hair?—but now he wasn't all that sleepy, anymore, and he was bored but he couldn't even play any video games because his PS3 was in a box, somewhere and his TV wasn't hooked up, yet, anyway.

Which kind of implied he should get to unpacking.

But that sounded like a lot of work…


Did he want any, what a fucking stupid question; of course he fucking wanted some!

"Meat lovers," he called back down, rolling off of the mattress, kicking some boxes out of the way and heading downstairs.

On one of the mismatching couches sat Suigetsu, slouched sloppily and navigating through NetFlix for a movie to watch. Naruto strolled in from the garage with two six-packs of beer in each hand.

"Nothing cures a hangover like more alcohol," he said, nodding as he set them down on the little table next to the entertainment table.

Sasuke plopped down on the futon-couch, caught the can of beer thrown at him want relaxed.




Life went on like that.

Sasuke worked with Kiba at his mom's car shop, Naruto was a waiter at a diner, Neji went to school and part-timed at a café and Suigetsu worked at the movie theaters inside the mall. They divided payments—Neji paid the water, Sasuke paid the lights, Naruto paid the internet and Suigetsu paid the cable. Restocking the fridge, the pantry and the alcohol was a weekly job and it rotated.

They argued and disagreed a lot, but it worked.

Everything was… normal—or their kind of normal, anyway. They'd work during the week, coming home, having some makeshift dinner together like the bros they were, hung out, talked a lot of shit to each other, have normal conversations, watch the baseball game or the football game or the soccer game or the hockey game or the basketball game, drink some beers to cool off and then go pass out. On Fridays one of them, if not all, would make pit stops at the nearest market or liquor store, buy booze and unwind to get the weekend started which involved drinking, going out and whatever not.

It was great.

A year later, everything kind of changed when the doorbell rang.