argyle sweater + smile (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ronsard) wrote,@ 2006-09-02 12:42:00 |
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| Current mood: |  awake but cannot open my eyes |
| Current music: | rilo kiley - a better son/daughter |
| Entry tags: | fic, naruto, sasunaru, slash |
[fic] Children At Play, In Charcoal
Title: Children At Play, In Charcoal
Rating: R
Pairing: Naruto/Sasuke
Challenge: 'Friends', at ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
sasunaru100
Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Kishimoto Masashi.
*
one, two, buckle my shoe
~
And how did it begin?
With a broken sandal strap.
Sasuke would have successfully thrown off his pursuers if it hadn’t been for the broken sandal strap. Half-an-inch of frayed leather led to a two-inch tear led to a nanosecond of – not tripping per se – temporary loss of agility.
Which ultimately led to his present predicament – lying nosedown in a pile of musky foliage – and the unfortunate incident of a smug-faced Naruto standing over him.
“Got you, friend,” Naruto triumphs, pulling up his ANBU mask.
In some cultures, a broken sandal strap is interpreted as a sign of bad luck.
*
three, four, knock on the door
~
In another culture that Sasuke knows nothing about, a broken sandal strap portends an unstoppable chain of events.
He does know this: Naruto won’t let him be.
“Leave!” Sasuke yells through the door.
“No!” Naruto yells back from the other side. “Not until you explain why you disappeared after Itachi died! Why you wouldn’t fucking stay!”
Eventually, however, his patience wins out and Naruto exits the building, stormy-eyed.
Sasuke isn’t obsessed, but he goes to the window and parts the Italian blind and stares at his friend’s retreating back anyway.
He tries not to think about how it really began.
*
five, six, pick up sticks
~
Friends bury the hatchet. Real friends will help you bury bodies.
This is how it truly began: with the building of Itachi’s funeral pyre out of twigs and leaves.
It was a case of gross but appropriate irony that Naruto should be the only other witness. Little boys with their toys – him a broken sword and Naruto his fittingly empty hands. The wind picked up; the ashes began to scatter.
And then Naruto leaned over and kissed him. Sasuke could taste the fading contempt under his tongue.
Wreathed in smoke and the smell of burning flesh, it was almost romantic.
*
seven, eight, lay ‘em straight
~
On a grey December morning, Naruto pressed Sasuke back onto the tattered cloak of his late brother. The ground was rough with sharp rocks; a line of pain cut into Sasuke’s back.
It was, all things considered, somewhat morbid.
Sasuke couldn’t have cared less.
Naruto got up and put his hands on Sasuke’s shoulders, and Sasuke went down, down. His jaws cracked, his mouth was hot. Naruto came, muscles taunt like strings on a guitar. Bucked his hips and hauled Sasuke up to finish him.
Sasuke hadn’t blown it yet.
That came later, when he left before Naruto woke up.
*
nine, ten, friends again
~
And how will it end?
With him opening the door.
He has words, his fears in a handful of dust. He could say: ‘Because I’m scared shitless.’ He could say: ‘Because it’s really nice and all when people become lovers even before they’ve stopped being friends/enemies, but it never ends well.’
Instead, he says: “You disarm me.”
Naruto’s grin is threatening to break his face, and Sasuke watches in fascination as it curls and curves over his mouth. “So are we good?”
Sasuke blinks. “We’re good.”
Naruto nods, and grabs his arm. They go to town.
And that is that.
*
catch a tiger by the toe
if he hollers, let him go
