Untying Lies

Before he could conjure up a response, he was abandoned, the warmth dissipating to the accompaniment of cool laughter. It took a moment for it to register that the darkness he was now staring into was no longer Sasuke’s eyes but the blank throw of midnight around him. Natural and empty. Completely unlike the haughty stare of the Snake prodigy.

Naruto glanced around him, just in time to catch the tail of Sasuke's cloak flicking up in the breeze as he disappeared around the corner. He knew where the other teen was going. The hotel. There was no mistaking it. Though his mind was still captured by his relief – he had Sasuke again – he was still fully capable of recognizing his surroundings, of recalling the details of the city's layout.

Without further thought, he followed Sasuke, who always remained just far enough ahead to not be caught, but close enough to be seen. To torment him. Arrived just in time to watch as he slipped inside a room, two floors up and at the very end of the hallway.

And as he stood there, just outside, he found himself questioning this desire of his, the need to see Sasuke again. It hadn’t escaped him completely. He knew he had, was changing. Every moment he spent pursuing Sasuke had wreaked its own brand of havoc over him, even overshadowing his dream of becoming Hokage. When had the other boy become so important?

Or perhaps the question was, did Sasuke really deserve this sort of. . . devotion? Was it really worth it? The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like he couldn’t simply explain this all away with talk of friendship. There was something else there. Something primal. Something needed. Something he knew only Sasuke could give him.

And yet. . . there was Sai. The boy who could’ve been mistaken for an Uchiha. But he wasn’t Sasuke. And Naruto knew there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could erase that very simple fact.

No one could replace Sasuke. He didn’t want anyone else in all honesty. Resolved in that, he placed a hand on the knob and twisted the copper-colored handle. Sighed softly as the door released its hold on the lock and swung inward.

Standing by the window, the cloak no longer shrouding his form in shadow, Sasuke turned his head, smirked at the near soundless entry of Naruto. “Not quiet enough, moron.”

“I wasn’t trying to surprise you, asshole.”

“You never could,” Sasuke answered smoothly, running a hand through his hair. “What do you want?”

That was a question Naruto wasn’t exactly prepared to answer. He’d spent the past two, nearly three, years looking for Sasuke, but never once had he thought of what he’d want when he finally stumbled across him. In fact, he still wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here. He had abandoned his own team in the middle of the night to follow up on this stray lead, reluctant to share this with anyone else.

And that wasn’t like him. He had promised Sakura that they would do this together, that he wouldn’t stand alone in this anymore. But now, he found himself grateful that she wasn’t here. This was his moment. His alone to share with Sasuke.

However, that thought called upon his sense of guilt, urging it to talk him out of everything he was doing right now. As if guilt was the one thing that could still strike some sort of sense into him.

Sasuke watched as Naruto’s gaze dropped to the floor, his internal debate clear. Even now, Naruto was awful at hiding his emotions. Or perhaps it was because of him. The blond had never been good at hiding his feelings when he was around him. Again that cold smirk leapt upon his lips. Guilt was something he had conquered long ago.

“Because. . . .” Sasuke whispered, “. . .I know exactly what’s driving you.”

Naruto nearly jumped, completely taken off guard by the quickness of Sasuke’s movements, the words pouring seamlessly into his ears. For a few brief moments, fear shot through his body, biting at muscles until they were stiff with tension. Was this the true difference between them?

But, he was still a shinobi. A well-trained one at that despite his tendency for reckless actions. His fear was reined back, carefully collared and locked away where it could no longer terrorize his body. “And what would that be?”

With that same frosted smirk, Sasuke leaned in and did something unexpected – he nipped Naruto’s left ear. Not roughly, but sharply enough to cause a bright pinprick of pain to spark into life and scatter over his skin.

Nothing was said, but even so, Naruto waited for an answer. There had to be one. Obviously. After all, Sasuke seemed to hold it, enticing him with the knowledge. Did Sasuke really know why he was here, why he couldn’t seem to leave despite everything demanded by protocol?

Fingers slipped up his back, crossing one vertebra after another until the summit of his spine was reached. But they didn’t stop there. As they traversed the back of his neck, Naruto could feel the goosebumps rising over his skin, one small bump triggering another one into life, all the way down his arms and back.

He actually hated that feeling. It was good in the most awful sort of way, not quite pleasant but full of anticipation. They alerted his want, ignited his senses so that everything was starkly clear before him. He wondered if this was what it truly meant to be alive, to be aware.

He could feel fingertips against his scalp. His breath hitched awkwardly in his throat. Yet another situation where something told him to leave immediately. This was dangerous. This was going to get him into trouble. And just as before, he found himself unable to move. Had to see where this was going. Had to have his answers.

But when Sasuke touched his hitae-ate, the spell was nearly broken. That symbol was sacred. That symbol had been cast aside by Sasuke, forsaken and abandoned. And that was something Naruto could not forgive. But. . .

The sudden rise of struggle within his mind sent a shiver spilling down his spine. Sasuke let a smile grace his lips. Gloating.

Before he knew it, the world was again clothed in dark. Only this time it wasn’t natural and it wasn’t Sasuke. At least, not directly.