A Royal Pain

“A Royal Pain”

Chapter 3

She buried her hands in the coarse cloth of his shirt, leaning close to inhale the unique scent of him, of her’s.

His arms wrapped around her, lean fingers sliding through soft pink curls to the nape of her neck, then lingered to stroke the soft skin there.

“I…I just don’t know how to stop it. The proclamation has been made, and Father…he would never accept anything less than a prince for his ‘cherry blossom’, no matter how perfect you are for me.” She rubbed her cheek on his chest, eyes filling with helpless tears.

“Shh, dear one, it will be all right.” His voice was roughened with worry and sorrow, but his arms stayed sweet and gentle, holding her close and warm. “We’ll find a way.”

She sobbed once, a hoarse catch in her breath, than wrapped herself tighter around him. Her eyes were liquid bright, unnaturally so, their normal emerald deepened to poison.

“We won’t.” She murmured, “But I’ll always love you.”

He only sighed and held her tighter.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sasuke didn’t really HATE his family. He merely disliked them. And thought them childish, stupid, slightly immoral drunken lechers with no head for leadership, a temper like a fuse, and all this without even remarking on their clothing tastes, or-

Well.

Suffice to say he didn’t hate them.

‘And,’ He reasoned, ‘As long as their foolishness brings me amusement and pleasure, why not enjoy this dinner?’

Because he just knew it was going to be FUCKING hi-LARIOUS.

He gave one more twirl in the mirror, fluffed his silky black hair to its normal style, and spared a moment to admire how it shone it the light.

Sasuke, you see, loved beauty above all else.

He thought of it in terms of ‘Art Appreciation’ rather than ‘Sexual Orientation’. He wasn’t straight, or gay, or bisexual…no, if anything our Uchiha was an elitist. And so far he was alone in his club. For he had found no one in all the land, (though he’d looked) that was as fair as he.

He leaned closer to the mirror, all the better to admire how his fathomless eyes gleamed, how his skin looked rich and creamy in the candlelight, and how, with the help of a dab of raspberry lip gloss, his lips looked lush and kissable.

He smirked.

As they always did.

He rotated a little, enjoying the way his rich black cloak emphasized his broad shoulders, how the flowing black cloak made his skin look paler, and how the clingy navy tights made his ass look edible. He smiled once at himself, enjoying the pouty look he achieved, with so little effort, and swept quickly out the door.

After all, narcissism wasn’t that bad of a sin. He could still appreciate other people for what talents they had to offer, and even found that some had attractive features. Not as attractive as his own attributes, but that was to be expected.

Besides, growing up with his family, he could have turned out much more depraved.

His calfskin boots made important clicking sounds on the marble tiles, and Sasuke had to reign in a smirk when one of the maids tripped and fell from sheer bedazzlement after a single look. Oh yes, he was HOT. He was SEXY. He was UTTERLY FUCKA-

“Sasuke.”

The dark-haired man glanced up at his father, face sinking into the displeased lines it so often showed when the Queen was around.

“Yes?” He drawled lightly, eyes disdainful. Sasuke tilted his head just a dash to the right and ah! Perfect. The light from the glowing crystal chandelier sparked on his silver circlet, dazzling the Queen with light. Sasuke suppressed yet another smirk.

“Hurry son, two of the candidates are already here, and I think your sister’s ill, and your mother won’t stop snapping at the guests…and…Oh, hello Prince Uzumaki.”

Jiraiya smiled worriedly and made a respectful gesture with one hand. Sasuke swung his head around…and froze, a gasp parting his bubblegum lips.

This, this was what he had been waiting for, this was the match to his own beauty and grace he’d always hoped to encounter, and had never found.

The boy was small, petite even and his steps held an innocent exuberance that was nothing like Sasuke’s royal stride, but that was bewitching just the same. He was beautiful, a living breathing masterpiece, just as Sasuke himself was.

His long golden curls framed his face in a hazy riot of color and silk, that his sky blue cap, even magnificently feathered and beaded as it was could not hope to match. His skin was golden, dusky almost bronzed by the sun and his cheeks held a fine rose cast. Sasuke decided his cheek would feel like warm velvet against his hand.

“Prince Sasuke…” The boy murmured, and his lowered eyes flicked up to mirror the cloudless blue of his Venetian inspired outfit, hedged in the same gilded lace of his hair. “Would you be so kind as to walk me to the dining hall?”

His voice was sweet and soft, like a stream in a forest, and when those sinfully red lips, the rosebud so different from Sasuke’s pink pout, curved into a coy smile, he realized he was lost.

“Of course, my prince…” Sasuke said, gallantly offering him an arm, and tamping down a shudder as Uzumaki’s body slid next to his. He strode quickly down the hallway, the mirrors he normally preened in. He was much to busy admiring his…Art.

Jiraiya watched them go with a slightly muddled look on his face, and a tiny seed of doubt breaking soil in his heart. He had a feeling there was something he should remember, something about the wording of the announcement…but he simply couldn’t…

He snapped to with a start and hurried after them, all at once reminded that they had company, Tsunade-dearest had a hangover and Sakura-chan looked as pleased as she did when her bunny died on her 8th birthday.

And where the FUCK had that creepy redhead gone?

The Queen’s hands fluttered helplessly for a moment, before clutching onto his skirt as he strode majestically into the dining hall and took his place at the head of the table beside his wife.

Stretching down the right side of the lavishly set and decorated table, was Shizune in the formal robes of her position, the Chouji boy, who was nibbling quietly on a small roll, his precious blossom, resplendent and pale in a soft peach coloured silk dress and the haughty Hyuuga boy, who sat looking disdainfully around the table.

To his left lay an empty chair where the predatory nymphomaniac they had somehow passed was to sit, when he showed, Prince Sasuke and the cute little blonde one.

He turned wearily to look at his wife and King, only to see that she was already tossing back sake like water. ‘As if this could not get worse’. He leveled a queenly glare at Shizune, whose unofficial duty was to keep the sake carefully locked away in a secret dark and hard to find location. Preferably guarded by three headed dogs and evil chess sets. He glanced once over at the empty chair, then gestured to Shizune to start the meal. If the red head failed to show he was forfeiting. Not that Jiraiya had a problem with that. Oh what he would give to be drunk…

Shizune stood, her small officious form drawing instant attention from the gathered party. She raised her glass, mouth parted to announce the beginning of the meal, when the huge double doors at the end of the hall slammed open.

Sasuke, still taken in by his Art, almost failed to look up as another figure stormed into the room. Only as he realized his perfect companion was no longer watching him, but instead facing the newcomer, did he bother to look up, scowl firmly in place. And then he almost stopped breathing.

‘Two in one night…’ he thought dazedly, his soft pink mouth parted in shock, a deep flush tinting the cream of his cheeks, obsidian eyes bright. ‘Another masterpiece!’

The man who had stalked in so imperiously was indeed beautiful, enough to match both the Prince of the Land, and the blonde cherub who sat by his side. His beauty was unlike either, not the rich, seductive tones of Sasuke, nor the innocence and vulnerability that poured off of Uzumaki, but something deeper. Something elemental and predatory.

His skin was pale, like moonbeams and mirrors, delicate and cold, contrasting sharply with his hair, a thick red mane of waves, ghosting just above his shoulders like living blood. And his eyes…Sasuke shuddered softly, his pleasure at finding such beauty almost enough for pain. ‘Those eyes can hurt,’ thought the Prince, ’Like staring in the sun.’

“He’s late.” Said the Hyuuga. Disdain rich in his cultured tones. Sasuke had always disliked the Hyuuga’s, their superiority due to ancient blood riling his pride. He was better than any Hyuuga, and look at his relatives. Jiraiya sat chewing nervously on his dress sleeve, eying Tsunade worriedly.

The redhead merely smiled, baring his teeth in a feral wicked grin.

Sasuke felt his heart (or was that libido?) flutter at the sight. He heard the beautiful blonde beside him sigh longingly, and realized with a jolt he may have competition. Sasuke sighed himself. Pity he couldn’t have both. Think of the family portraits they’d make!

Sasuke was so caught up in his daydreams, he almost screamed when a deep smoky voice whispered in his ear:

“May I have this seat, milord?”

He swung his head to the right, eyes widening as he came face to face with vibrant, hungry emerald eyes. The beauty before him smirked, and for the first time in his life, Sasuke squeaked.

Then blushed.

Almost giggled, but managed to catch that one and chuck it down a mental flight of stairs, one hand rising gracefully to gesture an invitation at the empty chair beside him.

“Now that we are all here…” Shizune started, rising gracefully once more, wineglass held high in one hand.

“Finally…” muttered Neji. Sasuke glared at the taller man.

“And so,” stated Shizune, beaming impatiently. “Let the dinner begin!”

Servants appeared in he hallway, sprouting from corners and doorways, laden with food and drink, bustling quickly to and fro.

“What is your name?” Sasuke murmured, leaning close to the redheaded man. He even smelled wild, like fire and lightning.

“I am Sabaku no Gaara.” He whispered back, green eyes burning, “And you must be Prince Sasuke.”

Sasuke shoved another giggle down another flight of stairs and settled for merely smiling mysteriously before turning back to the rest of the table.

“So how is your mother doing, Prince Akimichi?” Jiraiya asked, a strained smile on his face. “I haven’t seen her since the Dragon’s Ball, almost five years ago.”

“She’s alright.” Chouji muttered, spraying tiny bits of partially chewed roast beef along the table cloth. His plate was mounded high with food and Jiraiya watched with distress as few drops of rich gravy fell onto the expensive lace tablecloth he’d pulled from storage just for the occasion.

Neji snorted.

“Like you would actually know. No one in his family is speaking to him.” He whispered conspiratorially to Sakura, who sat dully beside him.

“Shut up, Hyuuga!” Chouji shouted, his heavy face flushing an ugly shade of puce.

Neji smirked nastily. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll tell everyone your secret? Like you did to me?”

“Don’t say anything about my mother, Asshole! She’s a good person.”

“Yeah, I bet she’s REAL good.”

“SAKE!” Tsunade shouted irritably, having discovered merely moments before that her bottle had become quite empty. “Refill!”

Sasuke meanwhile was dealing with his own problems. He had just picked up his fork, intent on ignoring the havoc wreaking around him, and the heated looks the royal advisor was sending HIS pretty little blonde, when he felt something rather…odd.

A warm hand inched up his right thigh, the firm fingers tracing patterns on his sensitive skin. His own hand spasmed, making the fork drop back to his plate with a sharp clank. He slid wide onyx eyes to his right, watching as Prince Gaara ate from his own plate deftly. WITH ONE HAND.

He wanted to look down, but didn’t dare afraid that Shizune’s watching eyes would catch on to what was happening. The hand curled hard around his fully aroused cock, making him squeak, then bite his lower lip, teeth clenching hard on the tender pink flesh.

Gaara shot an amused glance at him, than turned back to his food, leaving Sasuke to grip the tablecloth and not moan as the hand pulled and stroked working into a delicious desperation, the friction from the silky fabric of his tights and the dry heat of the calloused hand rubbing into him.

His mouth parted, and he shot a heated look at the man beside him. Gaara smiled in answer, a warm wicked smile that did decidedly funny things to Sasuke’s insides and the hand beneath the table felt so good and so wrong. His parents were right there-

“Say anything you want Hyuuga! You don’t know shit about my family!” Chouji’s voice had risen several octaves, making it much harder for the people around him to block out the personal argument.

“Oh yeah? I know your mother is an incestuous whor-“

“Gentleman!” Shizune said, breaking through the argument with a terrifyingly bright smile, and a baring of sharp teeth. “Let’s not get disqualified before the tasks have started.”

Jiraiya gestured the serving man away frantically, trying to head him off before the new bottle of sake reached his sot of a wife. His beautiful sot of a wife. He smiled fondly at her hysterically giggling form.

Sasuke spread his legs wider, grinding eagerly into the hand that cupped him, trying desperately not to make his movements to obvious. His hips rolled in a subtle sensuous beat. Gaara’s hand yanked him hard, and he sunk his teeth once more into his lower lip, drawing a painful sting of blood.

His skin felt fevered and he knew his cheeks were flushed and hectic. He couldn’t hold on. He was going to burst, cum all over the fucking room. He was going to-

“You boys can’t fight if you really want to marry my-“

“YES!” Sasuke half-shouted half-sobbed, throwing his head back in glorious completion, forgetting those around him.

“NO!” Sakura screamed, masking Sasuke’s cry completely. “No I can’t, I-“

She stood abruptly, and ran from the hall, the sound of her tears echoing back to the silent table.

Sasuke stood quickly, covering his midriff with his cloak and muttered something about fresh air. He stormed quickly from the hall, mentally thanking every deity he’d ever heard of that his knees did not give out.

In the shocked silence that followed, the only sound was the Queen filling several sake glasses and draining them successively.