Necklaces

A/N: Hi hi again again! Here's an update for you incredibly sexy brilliant beautiful lovely special outta-sight and dyno-mite reviewing peoples! Hey, that doesn't mean those of you who are reading this that *haven't* reviewed are off the hook, get me? ::tries to look menacing, fails, etc.:: Ahwell. You people are freaking awesome. I hope this is a good follow-up/continuation type thingy.

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Within the shadow cast across his face, cloudless eyes widened from shut. Naruto contemplated the newcomer up the beach via quizzical squint.

It was someone wearing cut-off jeans, a breeze-billowed white t-shirt, and a dark baseball cap. The figure was half-bent over, hands braced on his knees, as if something in the sand interested him.

Yes, it was a him, if the narrowness of the hips and broadness of the shoulders were any indication - though how Naruto favored noticing broadness and narrowness over lack of bust or waist faintly surprised him.

The ocean breeze shifted its direction, placing Naruto downwind of the other.

He remained still upon the sand, unmoving, observing only. He felt his chest and belly, tawny and warm in the day's afterglow, tauten slightly - his nostrils flared at the familiar twinge in his nose.

Sasuke would have no way of knowing he had been identified by his scent; he had no way to know about the Kyuubi that lent Naruto its heightened senses. And demon or no demon, Naruto did not relish the idea of ever having Sasuke discover that he could discern his age-old rival's smell from a hundred feet away.

Or that Naruto knew Sasuke’s smell like he knew the rhythm of his own breath, the beat of his own heart - he would have been able to tell that his fellow beach-goer was his Sasuke, even had Naruto been blind.

Huh. His Sasuke.

But why couldn't Naruto think of him fondly? It wasn't as if Sasuke's crazy creepy ninja powers verged over into mind-reading. Or like it wasn't perfectly normal to feel something towards one's oldest friend.

After some visual scrutiny, Naruto could see the unmistakable rooster-tail Sasuke's hair always seemed to emulate, at the back of his head; an abstractly pleasing feathering of black - a black that was nearly blue. He stifled a snicker at the way it seemed to challenge the very winds, demanding to keep its self-important up-curve, even though the hat had managed to curb all but the triumphant lock or two that now poked out the back.

Surely that was how Naruto had really recognized him. Because if Sasuke were ever to discover that Naruto had been sniffing at him, he'd be in for one hell of a beat-down. Not that Sasuke could beat him up - not that Naruto had been intentionally smelling the guy - well, no matter. He could kick Sasuke's ass any day, and that was him, that was all.

'Hehe, Chickenbutt,' he thought, in private glee. He was still saving that particular hairdo-inspired pet-name for a special occasion.

Naruto wasn't aware, but his shadow-obscured grin sweetened just then, intent gaze softening; for that moment, his face was a thing of real beauty. If he'd been called on it, he wouldn't have been able to admit he'd been smiling at all.

'It's gotta be the hair,' he assured himself, in silence. For silent he wished to remain, try as he might to hide it from himself, against the eventuality that Sasuke would notice him and this serendipitous voyeurism would end.

It was a rare thing indeed to see the hyper-vigilant man without his wits about him; being widely recognized as a dangerous warrior and the single-most eligible bachelor of the village had its price.

Sasuke was a very watched person, and always presented himself accordingly. He'd not usually be caught dead doing something so vulgar as picking over wet sand, focused on only that diversion, vulnerable.

Naruto may not have been completely cognizant of his own smile, but he definitely felt himself grin at that.

'I seeee youuu!' he teased covertly. So it was kind of weird when Sasuke lifted his head, turned toward his startled friend, and waved.

There was no way he'd seen Sasuke smile just then, was there? Sasuke didn't smile, and besides, if he did, it wouldn't be at Naruto of all people. Their relationship was… complicated that way. Shouted insults and knuckle sandwiches were more their speed.

At any rate, even Naruto's sharp vision wouldn't be likely to pick that up at this distance.

Naruto's breath caught (due to his apparent discovery, not the alleged smile, of course), and he stilled himself anew, as if he'd possibly done anything to attract the sand-picker's attention.

It seemed to work, because Sasuke had simply dropped his hand and gone back to his interrupted scavengings.

Naruto remembered to exhale only after he saw his friend lift the hem of his t-shirt and begin to fill the makeshift pocket it made with… whatever he’d gotten off the ground. He'd already found a good bunch of it, Naruto observed; the baseball-capped man had just deposited a previously-gathered handful of those whatevers into his shirt, and was now swiping the newly-freed palm of his hand on the seat of his pants.

It was interesting, this whole scene, so Naruto couldn't be held too accountable for his stare's intensification upon his friend. At this lack of proximity, looking at Sasuke at all was looking at all of him - though he had gotten a bit closer as he hunted.

To clarify: Naruto couldn't really help that his eyes would automatically inform his brain of the little sand-smear Sasuke had just left on the curve of his denim-clad ass, or the eye-catching strip of soft-looking skin that was the now-exposed portion of Sasuke's tummy.

...If Sasuke had had a decent bone in his body, he would have at least put on some shorts that fit him right - not some old things that would slip down his hips like that, just asking to be strewn carelessly along the beach!

...By gravity of course.

Naruto burned.

…Stupid sun.

"Hey, Naruto... mind some company?"

The deep voice brought Naruto out of his musings (and for this, he was grateful). He hadn’t noticed that Sasuke had closed the distance between them and now stood only a couple of yards away, staring down at him as if he were a slightly addled but beloved pet. He couldn't blame the guy though - Naruto's face was currently screwed up as if he were deliberating the meaning of life, and a forearm still half-obscured this expression.

The mildly alarmed young man gave an apprehensive upward peek at the Uchiha clan's only resident heir. A beat, and then from somewhere behind his arm, Naruto grunted his assent.

It was unusual enough that Sasuke's tone had been friendly. Weirder still to not be addressed as "Loser" or "Worthless". It looked like Sasuke was into perpetrating a record-breaking number of shockers today. Well, if that was how Uchiha was going to be, then Naruto wouldn't be out-done.

He sat up, flinging sand-clots from his hair with an inconsiderate snap of his neck, and leered obnoxiously at the other boy.

"Whatcha got there, 'S'ke-chan..?" he jeered, feinting a grab at Sasuke's shirt. Naruto knew from experience that adding that particular honorific to the end of Sasuke's name irritated him to no end; to be addressed as a child (or worse, a girl) was completely unacceptable to the proud boy. And although Naruto could later play the suffix off as having been meant affectionately, he never had done so in the past, and wasn't likely to start now.

This was precisely why Sasuke's reply, a light-hearted scoff and another smile, made no sense. He hadn't even tried to sidestep Naruto's staged assault.

"Oh, no you don't, Naruto, it's a surprise," Sasuke chuckled indulgently. He sat down facing Naruto, hid his whatever-they-weres by yanking his shirt up farther, then pulled up his knees to protect his mysterious treasure from Naruto's prying eyes.

The sun-colored boy couldn't have been more thrilled that the night-hued one had decided to arrange his legs that way, mostly due to the belly-button hiding effect it had.

Well, maybe thrilled was an overstatement. Relieved.

"Just sit there and don't look," Sasuke finished.

'Don't look, huh,' the blonde thought, his gaze involuntarily skating the up the back of a smooth pale thigh... all the way to where it disappeared into the shadow of Sasuke's cut-offs. 'Not so sure that's what you really want at this point, exhibitionist-boy.'

"Okay!" is fortunately what ventured from his mouth, and, he applauded himself, perkily so.

He set about feigning interest in a strutting grey sea-bird off to his other side. However, Naruto was not the most patient of sorts. After a moment, he huffed and flopped back onto his side, facing away. It was much easier to not watch Sasuke that way.

What Sasuke was up to, of course.

'Cause he'd asked him not to watch, and Naruto was only humoring the dude. You never knew when a nut like this one would snap and try to stab you.

Naruto could have sworn he felt the familiar weight of Sasuke's gaze upon his sand-painted back a few times in the following twenty minutes or so... he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen, and his skin tingle. He told himself that he was just unnerved… and that it was getting cold, the sun was setting.

Finally, Sasuke's voice chimed softly, stunning the blonde with both proximity and content for the second time in less than an hour.

"Okay, sit up...?" came from directly behind him, when had Sasuke moved?

"Nyah-!" Naruto blatted in surprise, but in his terror, he had obeyed - he'd sat bolt-upright - and when had he gotten so damned jumpy?

No sooner had he done that than Sasuke had stretched both arms over Naruto from behind, scooting close to his boggled friend, on his knees. As Sasuke lowered his elbows to rest on Naruto's shoulders, to either side of his head, a long string of pretty little shells bounced into view, dangling between dexterous hands, and before disbelieving blue eyes.

"...I made you something," Sasuke explained very near to Naruto's ear, before quickly drawing up straight to tie the beach-necklace around the astounded boy's neck. There was something almost shy about the way Sasuke spoke, and in the way he moved… or so it seemed to Naruto.

Enough being enough, Naruto craned his neck up and around to try to steal a clue from Sasuke's expression - but the growing dusk complicated this task. All he could really see were eyes shadowed by the brim of a hat, any sentiment there unreadable; a bitten-in lower lip, intriguingly plumped by repeated worrying; and fine tendrils of hair, freed from the cap by the wind, licking at the delicate line of Sasuke's jaw, the sides of his neck –

And. Wow. He thought he’d never seen the likes of this…

Sasuke was blushing…

Sasuke was blushing, his warm, soft belly pressed chummily against Naruto’s back. Naruto could feel the other’s breath, uneven, less than serene, swaying the tips of his own salt-crispy hair; it made him think of hot summer drafting through wheat-fields.

Cool, tapered fingers draped over the rise of his collarbone, both refreshing and inspiring a slow rush in their victim - tentatively; poised to flee, to flit away - as if their tips were skittish little birds. And all Sasuke seemed able to do was stare and stare down into him with those eyes, dividing the depth of shadow, splitting the darkening, dying day.

The fixated stare held captive to Sasuke’s approached alarming in its sheer force.

He had to see, he just had to see more.

The stillness snapped, like an unlucky pencil between too-tense fingers during a hopelessly convoluted examination.

The hand Naruto wasn’t currently using to tensely claw the sand whipped up and around, backhanding the galling baseball cap off the other boy’s head briskly. The momentum carried his body up and around to his knees, to face Sasuke, to grip his head with both hands.

Everything happened in one fluid movement, so abruptly, what should have been startlingly – yet Sasuke didn’t flinch. He didn’t resist, didn’t even seem fazed – he only held his companion’s gaze with a quiet determination. Criminally soft black hair fell into the wind in a great tousle - something huge, something ancient in Naruto just moved as locks of it trapped themselves between his trembling fingers. Sasuke's expression remained soft, pliant.

Naruto secured his grip on the sides of Sasuke's head, thumbs tilting his beautiful friend’s face up by the jaw - framing his face, surveying his features.

“What are you doing,” Naruto intoned darkly, hardly inquiring, commanding. He jerked the nearly-passive boy to face him more levelly, if that was possible.

Naruto might have hoped to be answered quickly, if taken by his tone alone. And if his fingers' delight in the heat of Sasuke’s unchaste flush couldn't be known.

Receiving no prompt reply, the flustrated blonde crammed his forehead to Sasuke’s, snarling reflexively at the considerable warmth there; though whose warmth it was at that moment would not have been easily decided. “What," he rasped again.

Dangling, formerly useless fingers considerately moved to curl around Naruto’s new neckpiece, dotting their way up his chest, shocking the other with their relative cold along their exploratory course.

“You don’t like it,” Sasuke whispered flatly, desolately, though he had yet to so much as blink or move away. Naruto wasn’t sure which Sasuke referred to, the gift or perhaps this sudden affection... but a reply was nonetheless in order.

Neither could Naruto suffer the way his heart wrenched remorsefully - Sasuke sounded so dismal, so disappointed - so he did all that he could do.

Left hand remaining to keep Sasuke’s head where Naruto needed it, his right arm wrapped Sasuke up tight, close to him, trapping the brunette’s left - chaotic emotion transposing his embrace into something nearly brutal. A sound emitted from Naruto, the child of a grunt and a sob, as he crushed his friend possessively near - and solidly shoved his mouth against the corner of Sasuke’s.

“I love it,” he hissed into the soft sear of Sasuke’s cheek, not bothering to specify which question he answered.

Sasuke made a small sound then himself, and to Naruto’s reeling mind, it sounded pained. Realizing the cruelty of his caress, Naruto gasped, “Oh, god. Y-your arm, I’m so sorry...”

He drew back hastily – he’d forgotten how he’d made poor Sasuke bleed earlier that day – and cradled his friend’s upper left arm, stricken blue eyes seeking out the wound as he shucked up the white cotton sleeve.

He found nothing.

Uncomprehending, Naruto looked into Sasuke’s eyes again.

Sasuke looked broken.

Naruto was nonplussed.

“I’m not really here, Naruto,” Sasuke murmured. “It’s time for you to wake up. This isn’t real.”

Naruto blanched. “No. No, Sasuke, you’re wrong. You’re h-here, you even made me this necklace, you – you...” he begged, voice laden with dread. Sasuke's explanation would only make too much sense.

His friend only smiled... like it hurt.

Naruto clutched his precious new thing desperately, slamming his eyes shut, gnashing his teeth in adamant refusal, to show Sasuke how wrong he was, how wrong he had to be, or –

Sasuke just shook his head and rested his forehead against Naruto’s once again. A breath escaped him, one too flimsy to be named a sigh. He bundled his best friend close, tenderly enough to cause a pleading, tremulous whimper.

And that is how they stayed - one boy frantic and held, the other resigned and braced - through the miserable throes of dreaming's relentless fragmenting.

Finally, dissolving.

A moment of vertigo - an insufferable pang in his chest - Naruto opened his eyes again, defying the gods to do this to him -

A star-speckled night sky met Naruto’s gaze. He found himself on his back in the cold sand, fist tight at his chest, the sensation of a hundred tiny shells biting into his palm melting away.

He was alone. In that moment, he knew he had to leave.

His eyes hurt again.


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Sasuke was feeling no pain, or was well on his way to not feeling it.

Normally, Sasuke did not drink. People who thought it amusing to lose their composure in public were eyesores. Still, he thought, one small exception to his abstinence couldn't do any harm. He would just relax for a change, then go home. His pride was satiated for the evening, which was almost as good as a satisfied libido. Right?

It figured that that motley crew wasn't going to forget his earlier show, though Sasuke had thought he would be left unmolested. Fully a half-dozen drinks had been sent to his table in the hour since, shattering this theory. Only moments ago had he decided to give in and sample one, so he had chosen the largest.

An improbable hue it was, and served up in something reminiscent of a skull.

Perfect.

So as it turned out, he was sitting there in his booth, arms folded on the table - sucking something suspiciously green through a straw that was even more suspiciously glowing in the semi-darkness. Swaying carelessly and minding his own business. A casual observer could easily believe he was moving to the sullen throb of the music, and he liked it fine that way.

It didn't look like anyone was going to 'fess up to having sent any of the cocktails.

Also perfect.

'Hmn. They're all scared of me.' He liked that too.

His guts were starting to twist miserably. Sasuke blamed Naruto.

He took an extra-large swallow of his drink, wishing away the tension the strange day had left behind; his thoughts were not yet as sluggish as he would have liked. He had been just starting to feel a not-so-alien brand of viciousness - but finally, his limbs had begun to grow weak. They seemed unwilling to obey any command of real importance.

It worried him.

Not much, though, thanks to his new companion.

'Mmn, I love you, my fruity green friend.' The hideous, hollow-eyed receptacle before Sasuke's bleary eyes gave no sign of reciprocation.

Maybe he should have said it aloud?

He actually giggled, a high-pitched sound; although it was quiet enough, it was still a noise Sasuke would never own up to having in his repertoire.

Clearly, it wasn't the smartest feat to employ mid-swallow, either. He had nearly snorted some of the cloyingly sweet liquid right out his nose; thankfully, such things did not happen to Uchiha Sasuke.

He choked instead. Better to drown than to be seen as anything like fallible.

It was a good thing he hadn't found Naruto in his earlier abandonment of sanity, he counseled himself upon a final wheeze. Seemed like there was at least one god that favored him. If Sasuke had told Naruto he felt something for him, that would have broken all the rules. He could do without Naruto just fine, just as he had done all this time, without... everyone.

Ever since Sasuke had been about eight, it had pained him greatly to even consider opening up to anyone. He intended to lose loved ones only once in his life, and that event had already taken place. Living the life of a ninja as he did, and planned to as long as he drew breath, it was a guarantee that people he knew would die. That being the case, there was only one thing for it, and that was to disallow his dependence on any other soul. Ever again.

It was a bad idea to tell Naruto for another reason, too - if he let it be known that he was gay, Sasuke would have one hell of a time convincing some girl he loved her someday. That would make it difficult for him to marry, and restore his clan. It was his responsibility to produce heirs. He was the only survivor.

He did not count Itachi.

The viciousness Sasuke had felt earlier reared its head once again at the thought of his brother. His brother, who was still out there somewhere, living a scott-free life, his own clan's blood staining his hands as black as it did on the day he committed the atrocity.

And Sasuke, the eight-year-old Sasuke, he had seen the results first-hand.

So much blood, so very much blood...

Mommy and Daddy hardly warm at all anymore, in a pile, limbs like logs, together forever, yes, but not like that, not like that...

He slid off the seat, landing on his rump under the table, with an understated "Oof."

And on the heels of that, a wince-inducing thwack.

"Unghh... myfuckinghead," Sasuke groaned tersely. If tables themselves couldn't be soft, why couldn't their edges be?!

'Temper, temper!' was the first commentary, care of the phantoms of his mind.

At some point, he must have leaned back in his seat, and while the cushion was velvety, his leather-clad behind was slick. No wonder he had slipped. A single drink couldn't have been responsible. He had only imbibed half of it so far, he reflected, blinking stupidly at the under-table view through the vantage-point of his knees.

'How undignified,' another of his voices opined.

"Shut up, Itachi!" Sasuke had snapped before his mind had caught up with his mouth.

His head throbbed, his butt was cold, Itachi deserved to die in his own piss, and he didn't think uncarpeted concrete should be this… hairy.

He grimaced.

"My name isn't Itachi, but feel free to call me whatever you like," a too-close voice piped up.

Sasuke, with the heel of his palm condoling his aching forehead, glared up from under the table and directly into blue eyes.




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End Chapter Three.

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