The new medicine made me sleep from 7:00 yesterday till 3:00 today, so I probably won't even remember posting this. Am v., v. tired. I was going to go see my grandmother for her birthday--if anyone has large families, you'll understand when I say she's the matriarch and the unfailing support behind our family--but this shit has made me sick, so I stayed home.

I know I watched Naruto 76, but I don't really remember what happened. In lieu of rambling, here's a fic. (Yay.) Naruto + Sasuke, PG, just the two boys being boys. I am completely shoving evil!Sasuke under the rug here, and supposing that he does come back to Konoha, which, uh... probably won't happen.

Anyway.



Summer

Naruto's mornings, he had come to find out, were not exactly normal. First of all, a few of his classmates expressed horror that he made breakfast himself (Chouji informed him that his mother and sister and sometimes his older brother all started cooking the night before), and his cooking skills were also subject to scorn: Shikamaru made a disparaging comment about how of course all he could make was ramen, which prompted Naruto to try and make something else even though all he wanted was ramen. Who knew it was that hard to fry an egg? Damn chicken didn't want to be eaten.

After that brouhaha died down, Sakura-chan came over one day and went through his bathroom and explained to him why, exactly, shampoo was much better for your hair than soap and merciful HEAVEN, didn't he ever clean around the drain?

Then Kakashi-sensei mentioned, very gently, that Naruto ought to take a more caring attitude towards himself, because while most genins' parents would see to it that their children ate before beginning training, Naruto didn't have parents to do this. Also, he let Naruto know that it was usually considered polite to shower after exercising, too.

All in all, Naruto was starting to figure that it was maybe better that he didn't have parents at all.

Because his dirty clothes were in five heaps on the floor, and when he had to step around them so they didn't collapse and flood the apartment with a dirty fabric rain, he didn't mind. Because, when he peered into his refrigerator, all he had were milk bottles, some pickles and a little mayonnaise, and that was fine. Because all that was in his cabinets was ramen, and as he put some water on the stove to boil, Naruto thought, satisfied, that there was nothing better than this.

He poured the noodles into the water, slushed them together for a moment, then clicked his chopsticks and announced to the empty room at large, "All right, I'm going to eat!"

"Ah, no you're not," said Iruka-sensei, catching his wrist halfway to his mouth. "Those noodles have been sitting out since winter, haven't they? They've probably got dust in them. Do you want food poisoning?"

Naruto dropped his head on the table and groaned. He *knew* he hated parents, dammit.

Iruka-sensei swept the ramen out from under him and dumped it in the sink, then clattered around the kitchen, opening doors and cabinets, peering in so Naruto couldn't see his head, just heard the clicking of his tongue. Peering through his bangs, Naruto watched him pull out some of his ramen cups and raised his head quickly. "Hey, Iruka-sensei, what are you doing?"

"Throwing these away," said his teacher, shaking them a little. "They're years old. Naruto, you've got to start taking better care of yourself. Strong ninja don't eat this way, idiot!"

"They're *fine*! Ramen never goes bad, that's why I like it so much!" Naruto made a swipe for them, but Iruka-sensei stepped deftly out of the way and dumped the cups out the window down to the trash disposal. Naruto knocked his head back against the table.

"Now. Naruto, you want to know why I'm really here?"

"You mean you didn't come to throw away all my food?" said Naruto, lifting up his eyes in his best beaten-stepchild expression.

"It was for your own good. But no, that's not why I came." Iruka-sensei leaned his hip against the counter and cocked his head, folded his arms against his chuunin jacket. "Look, Naruto," he said; then paused, frowning, and looked away for a moment. "It's very good that you managed to bring Sasuke back... I'm proud of you, you know?"

Naruto lifted himself up on his hands. "This is about Sasuke, isn't it?" he said. "That stupid– What trouble is he causing now, Iruka-sensei? I'll punch him in the FACE!"

"Oh, calm down. It's only... well. Hokage-sama has decided that Sasuke can't remain on his own in his apartment now; too small for the ANBU to guard. And the Uchiha complex is," Iruka grimaced, "out of the question." He paused. "Do you understand?"

"I think so." It was bullshit, was what it was. Sasuke's apartment was too small to guard, shyeah, his ass. Even if it was, the ANBU team could just rent the apartment over and keep an eye on him from there.

"I get it," he said. "The hag doesn't want him by himself, right?" He folded his arms and scowled. "No one cares that *I'm* alone. That's not fair."

"Well," and Iruka-sensei smiled. "Maybe someone does care. That's why Hokage-sama has asked if Sasuke can crash at your place for a while."

Sasuke.

At his place.

Sasuke.

Eating his ramen.

Sasuke.

Sleeping in his bed.

"Oh, hell no," said Naruto.



But no one cared what he thought, not the old hag or her pervert hermit friend; even Iruka-sensei didn't care, he just smiled and told Naruto it might not be as bad as he thought it'd be. Just stick with it, Naruto-kun! So, a day later, the doorbell rang and Naruto didn't want to answer it, but the hag would be on his ass if he didn't.... so he unlocked the latches, and yanked open the door, and pulled himself short of bumping into Sasuke's face.

There was a short, uncomfortable silence. Then Naruto took a half-step back, and looked behind Sasuke at his belongings: three bags, two backpacks – one genin issue, the other so shabby-looking he'd probably had it since he was a kid – and some boxes. Not that much stuff, really. At least his shit wouldn't be taking over the apartment. Folding his arms, Naruto stepped to the side, plastered on a huge, shit-eating smile, and said, "Come in," adding under his breath, "asshole."

Sasuke turned sharp eyes on him, sighed through his nose, and stepped inside, dragging his things behind him. He stood tensely in the middle of the entryway, looking out over the apartment. Frowning, Naruto shut and locked the door.

"Look, okay," he said, leaning against the wall. "This's a small apartment, okay? I'm not rich or nothin' like you, rich asshole. So there's one bedroom, one kitchen, a bathroom and that's it. I got a futon, you can set it up wherever. Just don't bother me and we'll be fine."

"Fine," said Sasuke. He nodded at his things. "Where do I put this?"

"Who cares? Put it wherever. Just make sure none of *your* stuff," Naruto enunciated carefully, "is touching *my* stuff."

With a toss of his head, Sasuke (and his stuff) disappeared into the bedroom. Naruto stood in the entryway for a minute. He ran over the encounter in his mind: Sasuke, the jerk, was acting like he was always did, like he hadn't run off with that... that weird creepy guy, like he was just coming back from a holiday. Figures the asshole would do that, try to act all cool and shit - but still.....

There'd been something funny about him, hadn't there? Naruto tried to remember, but all he could see was Sasuke looking like his usual self, even if a little tense and uncomfortable. Eh, he'd remember it later if it was really important. Naruto shrugged, heading into the kitchen to see what ramen he could rummage up for dinner.

He kept one ear pricked as he rooted through the cabinets, but he could only hear the slight shuffling sounds of someone unpacking – not so different from when they were on missions, since he and Sasuke were habitually forced to share an inn room. There were a few final thumps, and then Sasuke was stepping into the kitchen, looking around.

"Sorry it's so small," Naruto said as Sasuke's gaze touched the cramped quarters. "Like I said. I ain't rich."

"So it's small, big deal." Sasuke leaned down and touched the tip of his finger to an old ramen carton. "It's also dirty. Don't you ever clean this place?"

Naruto bristled, insulted in his own home. "Yes. I clean every week. You just happened to come and barge your ass in before I'd cleaned." He sloshed some water into the pan and jerked his hands away from the warming stove, turning his best evil eye on Sasuke. "Go sit down and stop bothering me. And you're getting ramen for dinner, 'cause that's all I have."

"Whatever."

"It's not like I have maids who can come and pick up after me," Naruto continued, still stung by Sasuke's disapproval. "I have to do it by myself, and I do. I'd like to see your apartment, I bet it ain't no sparkling palace! Unless you have maids, which I wouldn't be surprised at, Mr. Rich Asshole."

"I never had maids," said Sasuke when he paused to take a breath. "We always cleaned ourselves. We weren't that rich, Mr. Scaredy Cat."

"Who are you calling a scaredy cat?" Naruto grabbed for the nearest item, a potholder, and threw it without looking as hard as he could. He turned around just in time to see it being thrown back, right in his face.

"Sorry, did that hurt?"

"Oh, shut up, you jerk."

The ramen cooked in silence. Sasuke accepted his bowl without a thank you, lips pressed together, and Naruto swallowed his indignation as Sasuke clicked his chopsticks together and began to eat without ever saying a word.

Bastard, he seethed as he dug his own chopsticks into the ramen. Comes into my house and no one cares what I want. Insults me and acts like my apartment's not good enough for him. We'll see, Uchiha Sasuke. We'll see how long you last. It's my house. Enemy territory.

He stole a glance at Sasuke, who was looking down at the table and raising his chopsticks to his lips somewhat absently. He looked better, Naruto decided; someone had cut his hair (or maybe he'd done it himself), and the curse seal marks were gone: his skin was smooth and untouched, though maybe paler than it used to be. He still had dark circles under his eyes, but then, Naruto had those, too. It would be a while before he could sleep enough to make up for that mission.

"Your scars are thicker," Sasuke said suddenly.

Naruto blinked, raised a hand to his face automatically. "Oh? Uh, yeah. Yeah, they are. I'm surprised you noticed." Not cool, Uzumaki, he thought as soon as the words were out. Not cool at all.

"They look like they're coming off your skin." Sasuke bit down on his chopsticks and raised his eyebrows, cool as ice.

They were looking more like whiskers, was what it was; and everyone knew it but wasn't saying anything. The closest anyone had come to talking about it was the old pervert hermit, who'd warned him - while peeking through his binoculars, of course - that he should be careful about using the kyuubi's chakra the way he was. Whatever that meant; Naruto was of the opinion that the bastard was in his body, he should be able to use the bastard's chakra whenever he wanted. Well, whatever. He ran a thumb over the raised marks, dropped his hand, and shrugged. "It's none of your business," he said, which was even less cool but an easy way to end the conversation. "You done with that?"

Sasuke nodded and handed him his bowl. Naruto set it on top of the staggering pile in the sink, turned on the tap water, and paused. "Hey," he said, glancing over at Sasuke. "You ate. You help clean."

They did the dishes in silence, too, and Naruto was starting to get really sick of it. But Sasuke refused to speak, washing a dish and then handing it to him to dry, all the while keeping his lips pressed tightly together, expression never changing.

What do I care? Naruto thought in disgust, wiping his hands on a rag. I don't care what you're thinking, Uchiha Sasuke. I don't want to know.

"I'm tired," said Sasuke. "Where do you want me to sleep?"

"You're going to bed already?"

"What, you want me to sit up and play dolls with you or something?" Sasuke curled his lips at him. "I'm tired. I want to sleep. So tell me where you want me."

"Wherever," said Naruto, flopping onto the couch. "I don't give a shit where you sleep - as a matter of fact, you could take a flying leap off the balcony and I wouldn't–" His bedroom door slammed; Naruto blinked and sat up, resting on his elbows.

Son of a bitch. He'd probably take the bed.



Naruto found it hard to sleep lately. It was probably why his eyes were still rimmed with stress, and he spared a moment to wonder whether Sasuke had insomnia, too. Lately it seemed like things moved in his dreams, like his fingernails grew and his eyes burned, and something crept in his belly, touched the delicate insides of his stomach with long, sharp claws, scraped gently for a way out.

It was kind of scary, but he'd never admit it to anyone. They'd probably scream and run away. And he couldn't become Hokage if they locked him up and tossed away the key.

"When I said 'play with you,' I didn't know you actually did that at night."

Naruto looked up from the cards, body tensing before he realized that it was Sasuke framed in the bedroom doorway. In the dim light, he was cast in entirely white and black: black clothes, black hair and eyes, white skin like a painted doll. "Jeez," Naruto breathed. "You scared the crap outta me, Sasuke."

Coming to stand in front of him, Sasuke said, "Didn't think a dunce like you could learn to play Solitaire."

"Yeah, well, even you're wrong sometimes. It's not like it's that hard a game anyway, genius."

Sasuke sat next to him and leaned forward, studying the cards spread out on the table. "Well, I'm not too impressed, because you've backed yourself into a corner. Not very good at this, are you?"

Naruto clenched his hands, flipped over his next card, and said nothing. Sasuke was right; he was losing. He sighed.

"If you'd sit still here a while," said Sasuke, watching him study his cards, "and think about your next move, you might actually be able to get good at this game. But then again, you're a moron, so maybe not."

"I'm the moron?" Naruto gave him a look, then shook his head and gathered up the cards, shuffling them briefly before slipping them back into their little zip-loc bag. "Yeah, whatever, Sasuke. You just keep on thinking that."

He stood and walked into the kitchen. From behind him, he could hear the hum of Sasuke's confusion: the guy never said anything when he didn't get it, he always tried to work it out first. "What the hell does that mean? Naruto!" He stood, face so dark it seemed for a second like the curse seal was still writhing on his skin.

"It means you're an idiot! That's what it means!" Naruto poured some dry ramen into his hand and crunched on it, thinking of fox bones snapping in his mouth, angry.

Sasuke stood in the kitchen, now, body tense and tightly drawn, looking like he was just begging to hit someone or be hit. "You wanna fight?" he said, words clipped.

"No, dumbass! I already kicked your butt to hell and back, why would I wanna do it again?"

"You didn't win," Sasuke said. "A person like you can't beat me. It's impossible."

"Yeah." Absurdly, Naruto found himself showing his teeth in a smile. "That's what Neji and Gaara said, too."

Sasuke turned on his heel and walked back to the couch. Naruto hesitated a moment, then set down his ramen cup and followed him. He leaned against the wall to watch Sasuke, who stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, head bowed to display the curve of his neck and bumps of vertebrae.

"What's the matter, Sasuke? Cat got your tongue?"

"Shut up, idiot." Sasuke glared at him with his black, black eyes. Naruto was reminded of a picture Iruka-sensei had shown him once from a book of sea animals: it was a picture that had terrified him, and for days afterward he'd seen the shark and its dead opaque eyes in his dreams. Then Sasuke turned away, and sat on the couch heavily.

"You wouldn't know what it was like, anyway," Sasuke said, dropping his head. "You - you just keep getting stronger and stronger. Don't you know how it feels for me to just sit here and train and train and not have anything to show for it? I can't get stronger, Naruto. Right now, I'm so far behind his level that–" He stopped, probably hearing what he was saying.

Naruto pushed himself away from the wall, hesitating: it was a weird sight, that was for sure, seeing Uchiha Sasuke defeated and unhappy on his couch. And for once, he didn't have anything to say, no taunts, no teasing, and no answers, because Sasuke was right and he wasn't smart. He clenched his hand, the one into which he'd plunged the kunai, and all of a sudden felt the difference between him and other people: on Sasuke, on Sakura, it would have scarred, but his skin - everywhere - was smooth and unmarked. He'd never had a lasting injury.

"But when you say I don't understand," he said quietly, "you're wrong."

Sasuke's dark head moved. "What?"

"Feeling weak. I know what that's like. You know I do, because you were always such a jerk about it. And wanting to do something but not being able to do it, I know how that feels too, ya know?" Watching Gaara and knowing that that guy, no matter how similar they were, was miles ahead of him, and not understanding why; seeing Sasuke take down every obstacle that came his way, while Naruto himself had barely graduated from the academy. Naruto knew the taste of failure, and it tasted like shit. "But," he said, "that's all it was. A feeling. Because I wasn't weak. I had it in me all along."

There was silence again, just his and Sasuke's breathing and the noisy fan the next-door neighbors had. Naruto reached into his pocket, pulled out the cards, sat down next to Sasuke.

"Here," he said. "Shuffle, jerk. If you're so damn good at Solitaire, why don't you teach me."

He held them out, and Sasuke raised his hand slowly, brushed pale fingers over the edge of the deck. He nodded. "All right." He started shuffling, fingers flashing white over the blue-studded cards. "Of course, dumbass, if you can't figure it out it's not my fault."

"Yeah, whatever. Just shut up and start explaining."



In the sweltering summer heat, they stripped down to their boxers and trained by the lake. Heat waves rose off the water and gusted over them when the wind blew, and the ground was so hot they had to keep their skin from touching it or risk being burned. Sasuke's skin lost a little of its pallor, and Naruto's got so dark you could barely see the scars on his cheeks.

"Hey, come on, asshole," Naruto called, skipping his fingers over the ground as he dug in his heels to stop his sliding motion. "Tell me that wasn't the best ya got."

"Tell me," Sasuke returned, tensing for a jump, "that you didn't actually get hit by that punch. How slow are you, anyway?"

They leapt into the air and grappled, grabbing each other's shoulders and ducking each other's legs, twisting around each other and falling back down. Sasuke was faster than Naruto and got in more punches, but a few hits from Naruto had him out of the game. So it was usually Naruto who ended up on top of him, dripping sweat into Sasuke's face and grinning toothy triumph.

After they'd cleaned up, they sat on the balcony, legs dangling into the air, and Sasuke ate ice cream or a sandwich while Naruto slurped ramen. "I'm still darker than you," said Naruto, holding out a tanned leg free of scratches or cuts.

Sasuke held out his own, examining cuts that would need to be cleaned, bruises that would be hurting him that night. "I have better camouflage. I blend in with the moon."

That sounded cooler, so Naruto sulked and hid his face in his ramen cup. Sasuke just smiled, halfway mirroring Naruto's triumphant expressions.

At night it was too hot to sleep in the bed, so they rolled out the futons and slept on top of the covers. Naruto curled into a ball and Sasuke stretched out, resting his arms behind his head, staring at the shadows playing across the ceiling. Sometimes he would look over, and it seemed Naruto's scars were getting wider and his eyes were becoming more angular, if that was even possible at all. Maybe he was imagining it. And then Naruto would stretch, everything in his body becoming longer down to his fingers and toes, and release a sigh that was not unlike a happy animal. Sasuke looked back up at the ceiling, and closed his eyes.

"I should probably move out soon," he said one night, when he was sure Naruto was still awake.

"Mmmm."

"My ANBU guard has decreased, in case you hadn't noticed. I guess I'm behaving myself."

"Ehhhhnnnnm."

"Unless, of course," said Sasuke, "you don't mind my staying. Or whatever."

Naruto's eyes creased in a smile. Sasuke found his own lips twitching and quickly wiped the expression away. "Whatever," he repeated.


Hopefully I'll be more coherent soon. *thumbs up*