Dentes

Author’s Note: I apologize for being a brainless nitwit. I should have started dating the sections of the chapters from the beginning, and starting at chapter three looks plain stupid, but I’ve just come to the realization that there would be no way for myself or anyone to keep track of the time frame throughout the rest of the story, as the sequence of events throughout chapters are not in numerical order.

Please assume that the first chapter occurred mid-October, the beginning of chapter two early November, and by the end of it November 15. Thank you.

And why 2005? Why not 2008? Because writing about events that happen in the future makes me uncomfortable. Yes, even in a fanfic. Bite me.

Kodak

--

Naruto was in a place where the noise was something he was so accustomed to hearing that it didn’t even register in his mind that it could be a dangerous thing. Perhaps the sheer volume of it should have been a give-away that something was amiss. Maybe the way that it shook the ground beneath him.

Either way, those thundering hoof prints never alerted him to his oncoming death until the last minute, and by then, it was too late. Because he had already grabbed him, pushed him back, and out of the way. His head hit a rock embedded in the hard dirt and his head rang with the impact. The astounding amount of pressure encircling his ribcage remained a heavy, constricting force and his lungs struggled to regain the breath that had been knocked out of them. It took a minute or so, and he heard shouts, then silence. The trees stopped spinning. The stars stayed where they were supposed to, dotting the night sky like tiny punctures stabbed through the darkness to reveal the light hiding behind it. Naruto dubbed it safe enough to look up and into the gaze of his savior.

Cerulean eyes met bright brown, flecked with amber rust and pupils like bottomless pits that seemed to stare through him and into the ground below his back. They stared, scents melding together with that of the nearby city and dewy grass, and a dangerous chill crept up Naruto’s spine, warning him of a thing to come that was far more dangerous than a horse-drawn cart out of control.

In a calm, even voice, the raven-haired man muttered, “Fool.”

Naruto could not help but agree with him.

November 16, 2005

And like that, he was awake.

Naruto shifted upon the mattress, groaning as the pounding that reverberated from one ear canal to the next, increasing in both pressure and volume with each round. There was something hot and pointy in his windpipe, and it branded the flesh of his throat with every cautious breath. Breathing through his nostrils was like inhaling acid. The air felt too thin, too oxygen-depleted, and his body was starved to the point where it began to shiver.

He tried to sit up, but only got as far as propping himself up on his elbows before giving up and laying down on his back to stare at the ceiling. The room smelled clean, but not sterile. The ceiling above him was awash with the moonlight slicing through the crack in the curtains, and the dim orange glow of a flame. A quick glance to his right showed a long stick candle, propped in a golden holster, its feeble light offering little resistance to the eerie darkness blanketing the room. He felt weighed down, but realized it was only a quilt. He curled his hand in it and sighed gently, wondering if Sasuke had thrown it over him. It was the one from their hallway closet. When he didn’t feel like messing up their bed to take a nap, he took the dark orange and brown quilt and curled himself underneath it, enjoying the last of the sun with closed eyes.

And it smelled like Sasuke and him. He tugged the quilt up and closer to his nose, inhaling, eyes crinkling as the beginnings of a smile formed on his face.

Where is he? Naruto thought, eyes reopening to stare at the ceiling once more. How long have I been sleeping?

The candle hissed and crackled, and Naruto wondered at what point the power had gone out. They’d always kept a stock of candles and flashlights beneath the bathroom and kitchen sinks, just in case. He wondered why the raven hadn’t at least woken him to… to….

They had navy curtains. Why were these burgundy?

His gaze had drawn itself to the small sliver of moon visible through the tapestry, and he now noticed that instead of being outlined with a fuzzy blue, a deep red tinge was at the edges. They were long, floating almost like mist, not a wrinkle or seam that he could see.

They had navy curtains his still half-asleep mind insisted. Navy. What was going on here?

He looked at the rest of the room, to see if his sleep-deprived mind could find itself something familiar to settle upon. The layout of the room was very much the same; the bed pushed against the far wall, the door at the back edge of the wall connected to the left of it, the right wall with the window and its mysterious curtains, and the wall facing him…was like something out of a gothic romance movie. Completely made of black and gray stone, a fireplace pitted at the exact center of it. The glass shutters hiding the hearth was stained and cut into intricate patterns of hills of thorny roses, the bright paint darkened by the night. The mantle was white, the only bright thing on the wall and like a blurred ghost. Atop the mantle was an entourage of photo frames, none with images he could make out, all bathed in shadow with only their rectangular outlines left to give away their identity.

The windows were closed, he noted, one of the only clear thoughts in his rampant mind, but the air was so cold and thin, like it hadn’t been breathed in so long as was now so eager to be used it made itself as clear as possible. Everything, even the linen beneath his body which he realized matched his set at home and yet had the feeling of fresh paper, smelled too strongly. It assaulted him from all sides, and his chest expanded and collapsed too rapidly for his body to take. He began to shake. He was confused, and without even knowing where he was, he was frightened beyond belief.

He closed his eyes tightly, counted to ten, cleared his head, wished he’d taken just one more kiss, and opened them to find himself fully awake.

The room hadn’t changed. It no longer seemed ethereal, but all-too-real, and reality slugged him in the face with the force of a thousand-pound mallet. Almost immediately following the dread was the nauseating, gut-wrenching longing for home, for a locked door and for locked windows and plenty of protective blankets. Even if Sasuke were here he wouldn’t feel even a fractioned of how frightened he was now.

No, not frightened… mostly alone. Cold, and it was empty, and utterly lonely. The walls seemed to be too close together, even if the space looked to be even bigger than that of his room at home. Naruto drew himself up, still high off of heightened senses, fear like a thick gel clogging up his arteries, until he sat Indian-style, the quilt still pooled across his lap. The blond man pressed a hand to his side where he could almost feel the arm from the dream, snaking around his torso and jerking him out of the way of being crushed under eight thundering hooves. Against the cleanliness of the room he could smell something like Windex, something almost like disinfectant out of a hospital. And something else, something new, and he concentrated on that as goosebumps eroded the smooth expanse of skin at the back of his neck. It was spicy and strong, familiar and likeable. Edible. It smelled like…

“Are you going to notice me any time soon… Naruto?”

--

November 19, 2005

“What.”

Sasuke tried to finish his sentence, but he couldn’t quite force it out. The ‘what’ of the one-word statement was spoken in a deadpan, not a hint of emotion to make it into either a question or anything else of the sort. Sasuke’s voice felt dead in his throat, and he wondered how he was able to breathe properly, or at all for that matter, when every drop of blood in his system had frozen solid. He pried open his lips to utter a sound, but they were drawn back together a moment later when no words were able to form on his numb tongue. He tried again several times, and again, nothing. The silence and static from the ear pierce was palpable and wiggling in his ears, slithering around the lobe and diving in to muffle the alarmed voices in his mind.

‘Gone.’ ‘Missing.”

Such short words that carried such a heavy weight.

And a second later, he was moving and his words were rushed as he snapped into the phone, his voice sounding to him like the crack from a bull whip. “How do you know? When was the last time you--no, anyone’s seen him?”

Sakura’s voice, too, was rushed as she tried to cram as many words as possible into as short a timeframe as possible. “The last I, or anyone, saw him was the day before you left. Remember, we had lunch at that steak house?”

“I remember,” Sasuke returned, now spinning in circles, surveying everything in his room. His wallet, his keys, his passport. He didn’t have time to go through customs. He didn’t care if he raised suspicion by running onto a plane without even a carry-on. His eyes darted to the phone on the side table. He needed to call the airport, he needed to book a flight ad he needed it booked twenty hours ago. Oh God, home was half way around the world, half way around the fucking world, what was so great about Japan that he thought it good enough to leave Naruto behind, Christ where was Shino, he needed that flight now--”Did he leave anything behind? A note, e-mal, voicemail?”

“No, nothing. His professor’s didn’t see him at all the day you left,” Sasuke cursed himself and started toeing on his shoes, one hand grabbing at his wallet and shoving it into his back pocket. He made his way over to the drawer in the bureau and riffled through the contents, looking for his passport. “The doors and windows were all locked. The police--” fuck, fuck, the police, the god-damned mother-fucking police, the safe, the safe, his passport and Shino’s passport were in the safe, combination now--“said that there was no sign of a fight, no shattered glass, no blood,” his heart stuttered and Sasuke seriously thought he would have a premature heart attack, “no anything. The screen was popped on the window, though, so they say they came in through there. But Sasuke, there’s no hair, no fingerprints that belonged to anyone but you and Naruto. Nothing except--”

“Hold that, Sakura,” Sasuke said curtly. The door was shutting softly behind Shino, who dropped his shoulder bag on the floor by the bed and fixing his friend with a bland stare. “Shino’s here.”

“Is something the matter?” Shino asked calmly as Sasuke removed the cell phone from his ear and pressed it against his shoulder.

Calmly, a deadly calm, “Naruto is missing. He hasn’t been seen since I’ve left. I’m leaving. You are going to open your phone and tell the airport to get me a seat on the next direct flight home. You will not ask them, you will tell them. If they have any problems, I’ll be there in twenty minutes to deal with them. And call me a cab.”

Shino was looking for their travel folder, containing information on their hotel and airport, which they kept on the desk as soon as Sasuke said ‘leaving’. He was greeting the assistant at the desk before Sasuke finished his order for a cab.

Satisfied, Sasuke returned to his phone conversation. “You were saying?”

There was a pause, a moment of hesitation, and Sasuke nearly growled. His teeth clenched in the second it took Sakura to hesitantly reply. He heard a deep breath crackle the frequency of their long-distance call for a moment before the woman said in a rush, “They found traces of chloroform on his pillow.”

A ragged moment of silence in which the world ceased to spin. Then, “I’ll see you soon.” And Sasuke snapped his phone shut.

--

November 16, 2005

“Sasuke!”

A huge wave of bone-tingling relief washed over him like a tsunami. His heart, which had stopped when his head snapped to the door, fell back down to a crash and heart beats galloped in his chest. Hysteria was making him heady, and he couldn’t figure out why, because home, home sweet home, was standing there in the doorway with a plastic bag by his side full of what looked to be takeout, perfectly normal, in black slacks and a dark blue button-up shirt that was short enough to remain untucked and not look unkempt. He had socks on his feet, like he always did when walking around the house. His face was calm, but quickly perked up upon hearing his name spoken. He looked happy, happier than Naruto had ever seen him. His eyes were alight with relief, with joy.

And they were also red.

The smile slipped slowly from Naruto’s face, and he relaxed his arm that had been pushing him up so that he could bolt off the bed. Just as his grin faded, so did the rapture upon this other man’s face. A look of puzzlement took over, and a bit of disappointment, too. Like he’d gotten his hopes up for something he knew was a lost cause, but could not resist hoping for all the same.

His eyes weren’t red, Naruto realized, merely a bright brown. He stood but a few feet way, looking down at the blond from behind a nose that was a tad bit too long, and his eyes were set below a Widow’s peak that dipped too low. His face was pale with a more defined chin, partially hidden behind bangs that were longer than they should have been. His hair stuck up haphazardly at the back of his head, but Naruto could tell that if he washed out the gel, he could pull it into a short ponytail. He looked the same height as Sasuke, as well as having a similar build. He was almost a perfect replica.

But he was not Sasuke. Naruto hadn’t a clue who this man was, but he felt almost positive that he wasn’t someone he’d get along with.

Strong arms in a vice-like grip around his chest, constricting and pulling him out of danger’s way.

“Who are you?”

The Sasuke look-alike frowned now, eyes overcast, although his shoulders remained stiff and high beneath his shirt. “You had it right the first time.”

“Who are you?” Naruto repeated himself, too shocked to force a proper amount of anger into his tone. It wasn’t every day that you saw the twin brother of your lover waltz right into the bedroom.

Wait… Naruto thought. Brother. Sasuke mentioned that he had a brother… ‘Itachi’, wasn’t it? He never talked about him much….

“Itachi?” Naruto tried when the stranger didn’t reply. All he got in response was a narrowing of the eyes.

“No. I’m--”

He trailed off, and Naruto took advantage in the lapse of awkward comments to take in his kidnapper’s (Kidnapped, was I kidnapped? Oh Jesus shit, he’s going to murder me…) accent, his voice. It was deeper than Sasuke’s, slower, and a bit throaty. It was also tinged with an English accent, and Naruto idly wondered how Sasuke’s evil twin brother had landed himself in Europe and why, of all reasons, he’d decided to come back.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” the man whispered, disappointment now the primary emotion on his face.

“Remember what?” Naruto flushed slightly, embarrassed when his voice cracked at the second word. “I don’t know you.”

“You do,” the man whispered quietly, eyes begging, pleading in the most subtle of manners for Naruto to remember something he didn’t recall forgetting. “It’s me. It’s Sasuke.”

He’s a stalker, Naruto’s mind whispered. I’ve read about these guys. They dress up like your boyfriend and kidnap you and set up a real life game of House. And somehow I got stuck with one, fuck.

But Naruto knew that wasn’t true. The most that a person could do would be too buy a wig, dye their hair, and get contacts. No wig could create a Widow’s peak, at least not like that, and unless he dyed his eyebrows, too, the hair color was natural. It also stuck up exactly like Sasuke’s. His facial structure, except for a few minor curves, was a mirror image; even the skin tone looked the same. And wouldn’t he have bought gray contacts? Those eyes, lucidly bright in the darkness, flickered red as the candlelight played across his features. And if Naruto weren’t mistaken, he could see an odd pattern of dark specks circling the pupil, forming three comma-shaped marks around the iris…

Naruto shuddered, and his captor mistook it for a shiver from the cold.

“I apologize,” he murmured softly. “I haven’t gotten the electricity to work yet. It’s an old house; I’ve had to do a few renovations. I didn’t mean to bring you over so early, I got--” He cut himself off, but Naruto could easily plug in the word that Sasuke would have used--”impatient”.

“I’ll be right back.” He stepped forward, and when Naruto flinched minutely back, he sighed, set the bag of food down in front of the bed, before turning. “You used to like those spiced noodles from the vendors, so I thought that might be what you liked.” The raven looked over his shoulder when Naruto didn’t move to get the bag. “Eat. It isn’t poisoned, you know that. I’ll be right back.” With that being said, he swept out of the room, hand hanging back to gently grasp the door behind him. It shut with an audible and final sounding click.

Naruto waited until he could no longer hear footsteps before he leapt from the bed like a racehorse from the gate. He darted to the door and yanked at the doorknob, just to confirm what he already knew. The handle wouldn’t turn. The door didn’t budge. He was locked in.

He turned on his heel and ran with his feet as light as possible across the hardwood floor. He flew to the window, curled his fingers under the wooden frame, and pulled up. Nothing. There was an old-fashioned looking keyhole, rusted and taunting the infuriated blond. He backed away and looked around the room for something, anything, that could be used to pick the lock. He glanced briefly outside and noticed that it looked like downtown, only without the drug dealers. The street was dirty, as were the abandoned-looking houses that faced this one across the street. It was dark outside, and Naruto felt weariness tugging at his body. But he refused to let exhaustion take hold now. He needed out, and he needed something to help him.

There’d a crazy psycho just outside this room and he’s going to come back and do God-knows-what, his mind listed, going though a rapid assessment of the situation. He thinks he knows me and thinks that I know him. He locked the door. He locked the windows. Oh God what the fuck did I do to you?

All too soon he heard the slide of a deadbolt and, whirling around, breath leaving him in a flourish, his wide blue eyes met brown once again. There was a crease between two fine, thinly arched brows, a look in his gaze that was reminiscent of a parent chiding a child who had their hands shoved in a cookie jar. But he remained quiet and, leaving the door slightly ajar, crossed the room and to the fire place. Naruto noticed that there was a bundle of kindling wood and a few split logs stacked into his arms.

“This should do for a few hours,” Sasuke informed him, relieving himself of the load by dumping it on the small placemat of ceramic tile, then pushing aside the rose-painted shudders to reveal solid gray grates. “It’ll warm up shortly. And don’t try to run,” he added, almost as an afterthought. “I’m sitting right here.” He said this as if it were just an unnecessary add-on, like he knew that Naruto wouldn’t dare disobey him whether he voiced the order or not.

Naruto’s eyes narrowed. Like Hell.

Without so much as a second thought, he was out the door and running as if the hounds of the Underworld were biting at his heels.

The first thought in his head was that it was stupid to waste time in closing the door and locking it, although he couldn’t quite figure out why. Then he realized it was because whoever that man was had a key, but still, just a few seconds was all he may need, just a slight lengthening of the gap between their two bodies, their speed. His eyes snapped to his right and, spotting a gap of air, ran in that direction and he bounded down the stairs with a quickness he’d never imagined he could accomplish. They creaked and groaned under his thundering feet, and the banister his hand slid down upon felt grainy and delicate, like it was made of sand and would collapse if too much pressure were to be put upon it.

He was disappointed that the landing was not in the foyer but within another room, and the transition from familiar, to almost-medieval, to the early 90’s was mind-boggling. This room, although swathed in shadow, was almost clear save for several pieces of furniture, all hidden beneath discolored sheets. There was an empty wooden table along the wall which, Naruto guessed, used to house a TV. The fan on the ceiling looked as if it hadn’t been used in years, although it, and everything in this room, didn’t have a single speck of dust on it. There was a Grandfather clock tucked into the corner of the sitting room, the lower case of it ajar and the top panel removed. A small toolbox and several metallic gadgets and fixtures littered the floor, as if someone were in the middle of fixing it. The ancient hands remained frozen on a permanent midnight. Naruto shuddered, having paused only a moment to register it all, before looking to the left and then the right. To the right he could see what he guessed to the kitchen, to the left the dining room. He took the right.

After skittering over the tile floor of an old, but clean, kitchen, not a single light to help to guide him, he noted a door on the left, closed. To the right was a shadowed threshold and he went through there, thinking it led to the foyer, and the other door a connection to the dining room he’d gotten a glimpse of.

What he saw truly threw him, and he wasted several precious moments to gape in horror.

He was back in the kitchen.

Then, he realized, he was not in the same kitchen, merely one that look almost exactly like it. This refrigerator looked slightly more modern, a sleek and glassy chrome as opposed to cheap and beige. His eyes darted to the right, saw a dining room and a wall that separated it from the first kitchen.

It’s like another house…. Naruto thought dizzily. Were they trying to combine them or something?

All thoughts of odd housing schematics fled his head when he saw, finally, a mudroom, the dark-paneled door the most beautiful thing he’d ever hoped to see. He practically slammed into it in his haste, tugging on the handle. His heart crashed and melted into his chest, his lungs imploding and eyes burning with frustration, when his hands, slick with seat, slid on the handle that refused to turn. It was locked. He fumbled with the little knob set in the handle and tried again with no luck.

This is an old house, Naruto thought, panicking now. The whole neighborhood looks abandoned. They probably have one of those safety locks on the outside to keep kids out…. His eyes were drawn up, and his worst fears were confirmed. A shiny, bright blue panel was nailed to the door, its other half probably on the other side. Construction workers used these, he knew, so that they could get in when they needed. And to keep lock pickers out. He didn’t have time to try to get to locate the other door in the first house. He’d have to try and find something to swing at one of the windows (which were also undoubtedly locked) and climb through them. He pivoted around--

And slammed himself right back, pain ringing from his shoulder blades and throughout his back, his feet trying to push him back even further into it, wishing for the door to just swallow him up and spit him out on the other side.

Intense brown eyes stared at him from the mouth of the mudroom, not two feet from Naruto. Two hands were clenching at his captor’s sides, and for the first time, Naruto noticed that he wore one black leather glove over his right hand, the material looking so thin that it fit the contours of his fingers and palms almost perfectly. The top button of his shirt was undone, revealing skin that matched Sasuke’s. His height truly was a match to his lover’s, as well, around a head taller than him. His face, the same face, so much that Naruto half-guessed himself and wondered why he was running away. But his eyes, although the same narrow shape, if not a bit narrower, were bearing a hurt look and such ragged disappointment that the blond couldn’t help but feel guilty.

The stranger opened his mouth, closed it with a sharp click of teeth, snorted and looked away as if indifferent, although his clenching fists told a different tale. Naruto stood frozen against the door. His hand reached out, almost subconsciously, to circle around the doorknob, twisting, pulling, trying his hardest to make it turn. Forget the lock, he’d yank the door off its hinges if he had to…

He noticed without even looking up. “It’s locked, you fool,” he whispered in a voice so very much like Sasuke’s.

Naruto stiffened. “Fine,” he snapped. “I prefer it like this, anyway.” He managed to peel himself away from the door arm and swivel so that his side was facing the raven haired man, arms coming up and hands curled loosely, ready to either punch or defend his center line.

The man finally looked up, and upon seeing Naruto’s stance, snorted again softly, and a twinkle of mirth caused one edge of lips to tilt up into a shadow of a smirk, like he’d forgotten how to do it. “Fool,” he repeated. “It’s no use in fighting me. Especially if you don’t remember.”

“Fuck,” Naruto spat, “you.” Using the foot closest to the door to launch himself, he darted forward, ducking his side down slightly and bring his fist up to slam into the taller man’s jaw, hitting his mark dead on. A head of black hair flew back, but his neck didn’t make the cracking noise it should make when jerked so quickly. He remained dead still, only his head arched back to stare at the ceiling. The rest of him stood at ease.

Blinking, Naruto growled at what he thought was a taunt. His fist drew back, fisted itself again, this time slamming into his stomach right below his rib cage. Naruto could feel his ribs, feel how the skin belted inwards at the force, but not a gasp left gusted from his lips. Air should have been flown out of lungs with that hit, it was hard, his fist had sunk in, he should be doubled over in pain…

The face turned back down from the ceiling, skin as white as snow, not so much as a red mark where Naruto had so furiously planted his fist. He punched him on the cheek this time, noting how cool the skin felt, could feel bone, hard against his skin. His head snapped to the side soundlessly before slowly turning to look at him once more, as if waiting patiently for a semi-entertaining event to take place.

Naruto hit him on the other cheek, as hard as he could. Swift turn, silence, slowly revolving back to stare at him.

“Are you done?” he asked quietly, lips clean of any splits or blood, to reveal glittering white teeth, perfectly even, slightly sharp in the light from the lampposts outside. Too sharp in the light.

Naruto’s eyes bulged in their sockets and stared. The stranger kept his mouth slightly ajar, showing him his teeth, his mouth, and Naruto was back to slowly receding to the door, now ready to throw himself against it until he burst through.

“This is getting tiresome, Naruto.”

The gloved hand raised itself so quickly that Naruto flinched back, expecting a hit from this man who could apparently take a blow without feeling an ounce of pain, a stalker who’d somehow gotten himself a miraculous disguise to make himself into a mirror image of Sasuke, a supernatural fanatic who must have spend hours and hours with a file sharpening his teeth.

But they’re so long, the panicked part of his brain hissed, how can a person have such long teeth?

Dentures. He has dentures.

Those don’t look like dentures, those aren’t fucking dentures, those are fa--

Shut up!

Instead of hitting him, the hand glided smoothly over Naruto’s ear. The leather, he noted, soft and smooth as butter, and his hand raked through his hair before fisting a handful of it at the back of his head. Gently he pulled, and Naruto, at a loss of what to do, stumbled closer.

“Remember,” the Sasuke-look-alike said. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a request, it wasn’t gentle. It was a firm order, spoken in the same tone he’d used when he told Naruto not to run.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Naruto gritted out. “Let go of me.”

“Remember,” he repeated, just as firm, a bit colder. The fingers tightened themselves with the slightest bit of pressure, but Naruto noticed enough.

Starting, his hands flew up to grapple at the hand holding him. He dug the nails of his thumbs into the cavity of his wrist, he tugged sharply at the pinky finger which wouldn’t even bend, and than he was prying forcefully at the side of his hand. His arms suddenly dropped as it he’d touched hot brick.

Inside the glove felt like solid iron.

The rest of his skin, his cold, freezing skin, pressed inwards, but that spot had been so hard, so firm, Naruto could have sworn that, no matter how impossible the concept, he had just fingered the butt end of a gun.

What….

What the Hell is going on?

It took Naruto to gather his bearings before he spoke in a voice that cracked, hands now fisting the cloth of the man’s shirt for lack of a better thing to do. “What are you?” He didn’t bother ask to ask who he was; he’d already made it quite clear that he belonged in a quiet cell at the farther mental hospital from this spot. But what he was….

“You’d know--” Sasuke began, but Naruto cut him off.

“If I what? Remember?” He was pleased to note that his voice was stronger, stronger than he felt.

“Yes,” he replied. “Remember me.”

“I’ve never met you in my life.”

“No. Not in this one.”

“What’re you--”

Naruto didn’t notice how close this “Sasuke” had brought their faces together until firm, cool, familiar lips were pressing tightly over his own. He tiled both of their heads to an angle that Naruto and his Sasuke used all the time. The blond shut his eyes, and was unsurprised that in the darkness his eyelids presented, he could’ve sworn it was Sasuke kissing him, perhaps after coming in from a cold winter morning, but Sasuke all the same.

The kiss was slow, distracting, and he found he couldn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to. He didn’t move back, just paid attention, tried to find subtle differences in this and the thousands of others he’d experienced over the years. It was heart-stopping to find not a single one.

It was when “Sasuke” started to tongue his lower lip and the seam of his slightly parted mouth, when Naruto first wondered if making love with this man would feel the same as well, that he snapped to his senses. Eyelids parting, he gave a startled gasp, and a cold tongue slid into his mouth. As if he thought it would have an affect, Naruto bit down with all of his strength and let go just as quickly when Sasuke didn’t so much as flinch, when he didn’t taste blood. It was too weird, too disgusting, to hold the slimy and squirming thing between his teeth and not have an affect on it. Instead he tried to twist his face away, but “Sasuke” held firm, tilting his head to an even better angle and kissing like Sasuke did when they hadn’t seen each other for more than a day. Like it had lasted a century, like this would allow him the breath he hadn’t been able to take in hours.

Breath. Breathing. When Naruto tried to push against his chest, he noticed the lack of a beating heart beneath his right palm.

Oh God….

He couldn’t help it. Naruto screamed, and he felt it would have been loud enough to shatter windows if “Sasuke’s” mouth wasn’t there to smother it. Naruto cupped his palms to press against the smooth expanse of pale neck and pushed. No beat, no pulse, Oh my God, and he thrust with all of his strength. “Sasuke” did not budge an inch. He used his thumbs to claw at the insides of his ears, nothing. He yanked and pulled at his earlobes, enough to tear them off, but they didn’t so much as redden. Then he was fisting two bunches of hair and pulling, pulling. Sasuke groaned, but not in pain, and Naruto gave a dry sob, breathing heavily through his nose. The kiss was getting more brutal, sloppier, and saliva started to dribble down his cheek and chin. One long, cold arm wrapped around his waist and pulled so that they were pressed tightly together, and Naruto whimpered at the sudden pressure against his abdomen. Oh God.

God no.

Naruto screamed again, bit down again and held for longer this time. He let go when “Sasuke” gently tugged at his hair, not a real warning, but as if he were lightly whacking a puppy on the head for chewing on a pair of slippers; what was important was the noise it made, to scare it. What was more important now was the reminder that Sasuke had a hand in his hair, and that he could do a lot worse then a gentle tug.

Naruto let him do as he wished and forced himself to relax. His hands dropped from Sasuke’s hair, and he stood motionless, waiting for the other man to lose interest. Sasuke jerked him forward, pressing them even tighter together, and still Naruto didn’t react.

The blond began to count in his head, swallowing open-mouthed against the fear and anxiety that were threatening to transform him into a useless sobbing pile of flesh and bone. His heartbeat remained loud in his ears, homesickness and the longing for warm arms and a familiar setting threatening to blow apart his world, until he could track the seconds without his thoughts straying. Forty-seven steady counts later, Sasuke slowed down and withdrew his tongue, although not his lips. He massaged Naruto’s gently, an almost apology to the brutal bruising force he’d been using, and he mouthed words the blond couldn’t understand. Finally, with a chaste kiss to his puffed lower lip with a mouth now as warm as Naruto’s, he drew back.

His nose was cold, he realized, from rubbing against Sasuke’s. His eyes ticked. Sasuke stroked his hip with his thumb. Naruto threw a punch that Sasuke caught squarely in the cheek, but again, his head snapped to the side before turning back down to face him.

“You don’t remember.”

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” Naruto wanted to ask. Instead, he said, “If I say yes, will you let me go?”

It was odd. One moment Naruto was staring up into angry eyes, and the next he was looking at Sasuke’s back, feeling the blood rush to his head, and seeing the ground flood by rapidly beneath moving feet.

“Wait!” Naruto yelped, pushing himself up with his palms against a hard back. Sasuke merely jolted his shoulder sharply, causing Naruto to bounce slightly and flop over his back once again. “Let me go!” he ordered, kicks his legs. He wished he still had shoes on, as he felt his bare feet hit Sasuke’s stomach and hip bone, hurting at the impact but without a single reaction in turn. At one point he knew that when his heel hit Sasuke’s nose, but all he got was the raven batting his foot away impatiently.

Naruto wasn’t sure where he was being carried, but was absolutely positive that he didn’t want to go there.

All while they went through the bottom half of the enlarged house, amidst Naruto’s shouted obscenities and fruitless struggles, Sasuke spoke calmly. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted our room to look like,” he said, “our old room, or that place you used to live in. So I tried both.”

The words “used to” sent chills racing up his spine, and Naruto tossed harder. Sasuke jerked his shoulder again, a bit more violently, and continue to speak. “I know you hate small spaces, so I knocked down the wall dividing this house and the next one over. I don’t know how he ever managed to keep you in that cooped up little house.”

Naruto hazarded a guess at who that ‘he’ was, and said, “Sasuke didn’t keep me anywhere! He and I got that place together!”

“Hn. Whatever.” Sasuke shifted Naruto a bit on his shoulder. They’d reached the top of the stairs. “This place isn’t permanent. It’s convenient, though. I was told that I might run into a few problems with your memory--”

“Told? Told by who!? And I don’t have any fucking problems with my damned memory!”

“--so we’ll take care of that before I change you, and then we’ll move to a permanent home. Maybe in England, or Scotland. Some place with clean air.”

Pretty picky about air for a person who doesn’t breathe, Naruto thought, and then realized he’d admitted to himself, quite frankly, that whatever was holding him was less human than a bear or a tortoise. Instead of calling him out on his physical attributes, Naruto said, “Change me into what?”

Sasuke was silent. They were back where they’d started, in the room that was a hybrid between Naruto’s room back home and what Sasuke called their “old room”.

Sasuke locked the door behind them, and Naruto watched as he dropped the heavy key into his back pocket. The blond winced. I don’t know if that’s to keep me from trying to get it, or to try to make me go for it. He was dropped gracelessly on the bed and he yelped as he bounced, his skull smacking into the wooden headboard. Groaning, he sat up and massaged the back of his scalp, face flushed from anger, frustration, and thousands of other emotions he was too tired to name. He watched the inhuman being cross the room with eyes like a hawk, noting and keeping track of every movement. A picture frame was picked up from the mantel and brought back over.

“He told me to bring something in case it was hard to convince you,” Sasuke told him. Naruto shrunk back an inch, but was too stubborn to move any further, when Sasuke crawled over the bed, swinging his legs under him so that he sat with one leg curled under him, one leg hanging over the bed, staring down at the photo. “It’s blurry, but then again, it’s over a hundred years old.”

He turned it to face Naruto, but the blond had his eyes firmly trained on Sasuke’s features. But not his mouth. He didn’t think his heart could take one more shock, and he was half-way to convincing himself that he’d been seeing things. No one, not a single person on the planet, could have fangs.

Scowling, he grabbed Naruto by the hair again and forced his head down, thrusting the frame into his face. He kept the object five inches from the blond’s nose, no matter how hard the head jerked back, how hard the hands pushed at his wrist. Eventually Naruto gave in and looked, looked hard. It was black and white, faded to almost gray. The photograph was cracked, and where the back showed was yellowed with age. In the image were three things he took note of. The background, a dreary and damp-looking city with old buildings and a cobblestone road. The second was Sasuke, a replica to match the live one sitting not a foot’s breath away from him. The third one was himself, smiling and happy, hooked underneath Sasuke’s arm.

He gasped, loudly, and made himself freeze under the raven’s hard gaze. Sasuke released him, hope lightning his features as the blond slowly returned his blue-eyed gaze to his own.

“Sasuke….” his eyes widened, surprise and shock mangling his features.

“Naruto,” murmured, hopeful, relieved, cautious.

The blond smiled, gently, and Sasuke looked like he couldn’t believe what he saw, was almost too thrilled to see it.

“I didn’t know you were so good with photoshop.”

Sasuke blinked.

Naruto spat into his face.

There was a simultaneous crack and shatter; the former being the wooden frame breaking into several chunks of splintered wood, the latter being the grass cracking and falling apart into hundreds of pointy shards as the frame hit the wall. Then Sasuke was pinning Naruto underneath him with a glare so deadly the blond wondered if such a gaze could contain poison. It certainly felt it. He felt like his heart was going to pound itself straight through his chest, and his stomach was revolting and tossing, repeatedly dropping and making his whole body burn. He felt tears begin to prickle the backs of his eyes.

This, he knew, was the most terrified he had ever, and would ever, be. Just that look made him want to die. Hopelessness made his breath run ragged, and a single tear dripped from the corner of his eyes and into his hair.

“I give up.” It was spoken with the deadliest of calms, and Naruto would have rather he shouted. “I’m done playing games. I’m through with being kind.”

He won’t kill me, Naruto told himself. He’s going to do something much worse.

“I wanted to remind you, to make you remember your promise,” he said, still stoic, still emotionless, but with such rage and betrayal twisting his gaze Naruto wondered how he was still breathing. “It would have been so much easier to turn you that way, to deal with this memory problem of yours beforehand. But now I see that you refuse to cooperate with even this. So we will do it your way.”

Naruto’s way. Naruto didn’t have a way. Whatever his man was talking about wasn’t his way at all.

“I want to go home,” he whispered. He knew his voice would crack if he spoke any louder than this. He knew he sounded like a ten-year-old, but he didn’t care. Another tear bled into his hair. “Let me go. I want to go back to Sasuke.”

“This is home,” Sasuke said flatly. “And I am Sasuke.”

“He’ll be scared. He’ll be worried.”

“Then he can wait patiently like I have, for as many decades as I have.”

Decades. Decades. Decades. His world spun around him once more, in a much more nauseating rhythm.

“I do not care that you claim you’ve forgotten all about me,” Sasuke said. “I will remind you.” A fraction’s moment of a pause. ‘You were born in London, England in 1887.”

Naruto wanted to hit some sense into him, but found himself transfixed, as if he were reading a book that would not let him put it down until he reached the end.

Sasuke went on. “I was on my way through the city when I first met you on the outskirts of town, where I saved you from being mauled to death by a horse-drawn cart and a drunken rider.”

This could not be good for his heart, or his eyes. They’d grown wide once more, this time with honest recognition of Sasuke’s words. It did not go unnoticed.

“You remember,” he said plainly. When Naruto didn’t respond, he went on as if there had been no interruption. “You were stubborn to thank me. To pay me back, you said, for saving your life. You followed me around, and I had been alone for far too many years to let company pass me by. I was lonely. And so were you. You told me you loved me, after a few short months. I doubted your words. I told you what I am, and you took it in stride. You told me that you loved me again, and this time, loved me more than life. More than the light that I would steal away from you. I told you I couldn’t stay. You promised to come with me; to let me change you, to stay with me for however long we chose to remain in this life.” His eyes darkened. “You promised, and you said you never went back on your word. I believed you, and still do. I will hold you to your word, like you encouraged me to do. Even if you do not remember.

“Things went wrong quickly. I did not think to ask my companion how to change you properly. I was foolish, stubborn, independent. I tried, I failed, and you died.” He said it all as if reading it off a roster, plain and simple, touching briefly on a dozen different thing but offering no further detail.

I don’t remember any of this, Naruto thought before mentally smacking himself. Of course he didn’t remember. None of this was real. It couldn’t be real. It belonged in a fairy tale, not in reality.

Sasuke parted his lips once more, letting the tips of his fangs drag lightly over his lower lip before running a red tongue over them.

He can’t breathe, Naruto reminded himself. He can’t feel pain. He has no pulse, no heat. He’s claimed to live for well over a century. And his eyes are too old for the rest of him.

Why?

Out of all the things he should have been worried about, thinking about, ‘why’ was the one word that repeated itself over and over in his head. Why was he kidnapped? Why was he forced into a position that would make his lover fret and worry? Why was he held captive by a man who looked like he’d put his life in Naruto’s hands, and was now begging him to take care of it?

Why, why, why?

Sasuke ran his tongue over his lips, making them look as soft and delicate as white rose petals, before he tipped Naruto’s head back by a fist that was once more in his hair. There was a maniacal determination in the way those eyes gleamed now, in the way his jaw was set.

Naruto snapped out of it as the raven began to dip his head to his throat. His elbows dug themselves into his own ribcage and he braced his hands against Sasuke’s oncoming face. The taller man had, at some point, fit himself between Naruto’s legs. Now the blond drew them up and planted the balls of his feet into narrow hipbones and pressed until the backs of his shoulders were pressed into the headboard. He stiffened his whole body, managing, at last, to beat the other man out.

Sasuke’s eyes flew up to his face. No angrier than before, but more determined. He could tie me up. It’d be easy for him. Or turn me around and bite me from behind. It would be so easy. I have to do something, anything. I can’t out strength him, and this will probably be the only time that I can out-maneuver him. I have to do something before he does whatever he intends to do. I have to do it now.

Naruto knew exactly what Sasuke intended to do. There was no use in fooling himself. He’d bite him, pierce him with those lethal looking fangs, and Naruto would become whatever this monster was.

I have to do something now.

“Let’s make a deal!” he blurted out, saying the first thing that could come to his mind. Deals. Deals with the devil, he knew, never turned out well, but it was that or lose right now. He would take his chances.

“Deal?’

That is, if Sasuke would even take the bait.

“A deal,” Naruto repeated, nearly breathless with relief. But Sasuke didn’t move from his intimidating position, so the blond didn’t move his hands or legs, either. “If… umm…” He tried to think of terms and conditions as quickly as possible. He was making this up on the spot, after all. And if the Sasuke above him was anything like his own Sasuke back home, he was nearly out of what limited patience he had. “A month.” A time set, a good one; all things were done in monthly-intervals. “Thirty days,” to buy time.

“Thirty days for what?” Sasuke hissed. At least he wasn’t speaking in a deadly calm anymore, Naruto thought, relieved.

“For me to remember whatever you want me to,” Naruto said quickly. “If I remember by the end of a month, then you can… ‘change’ me.” Naruto winced,

“And if you don’t?” Sasuke prodded, looking slightly intrigued.

“Then you let me go home,” Naruto said firmly.

Sasuke was silent for a long time, just staring down at him. It drew out into several minutes, Naruto waiting with baited breath. Finally, the older man said, “Some months have thirty-one days.”

Was that supposed to be a joke? But then, Naruto almost started to laugh with relief as Sasuke leaned back. He allowed his feet to relax on the mattress, and used his freed hands to push himself back up to lean against the headboard.

“And some months have twenty-eight,” Naruto said, voice weak with relief. “Feel lucky I gave you thirty.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed, and he stiffened again. “Feel lucky that I’m going along with this ludicrous plan at all,” he snapped. Then, “And what’s to say you’ll hold up your side of this bargain? If you remember and you lie to me?”

“If I remember what you’re telling me I should, I’ll be asking for you to change me,” Naruto pointed out sharply. “And you’re more likely to stab me in the back, anyway. Who’s to say you won’t try and ‘change’ me even if I don’t remember all this bullshit after a month? I’m putting a bit of trust into you, bastard, even though you don’t deserve it. The least you could do is trust me a bit back.”

Sasuke frowned. “I could save myself all this hassle,” he said, “and just bite you now. It wouldn’t be a problem. You know that.”

“But you love me, don’t you?” Naruto blurted out. Sasuke froze; he knew his word shad hit a mark. “If you love me, you’ll agree.”

Sasuke glared hard at him, and Naruto met it with a level gaze. Finally, he snorted, and settled onto his haunches. “Fine, moron,” he muttered. “Thirty days. But… I want to add one of my own conditions.”

“And that is….” Naruto asked hesitantly, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“You cannot leave this house for the next thirty days. If you do, it will be with my permission and supervision.” Naruto’s jaw dropped. “I won’t have you trying to escape. If I agree to your ridiculous rules, than surely you can agree with mine.”

Naruto sputtered, outraged, “No!” Even if he was positive that this was all too fantasized to come even close to real, even though he was sure that Sasuke was as firm on his word as Naruto, he couldn’t get the dream out of his head. Of being pulled out of the way of a horse-drawn caught by a pale man with bright brown eyes…

Sasuke shrugged. “Then you go back down on the bed and I’ll bite you,” he said simply. “Love or no love,” he added when Naruto opened his mouth to make an angry retort. “You agree to my one simple condition, or I do it now. Your choice.”

Sasuke watched with a smirk as Naruto went though a silent, yet furious battle inside of his mind. Finally, after several long moments of consideration, Naruto muttered. “Fine. Have it your way bastard.”

Sasuke’s smirk grew. “I will. Thirty days to make you see sense. I doubt I‘ll need that long”

“I‘m always willing to shorten the time span,” Naruto snapped back, irritated. “Less time I have to spend in your company, the better.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Whatever, idiot.” He reached a hand out, not quickly but with a deliberate speed, and Naruto shrank back.

“Don’t touch me!”

Sasuke ignore him and gently pressed his right hand over Naruto’s throat. The blond gasped, feeling the steel-like hardness of that particularly spot of skin once more. “Why--?”

“Silence,” Sasuke murmured quietly. He didn’t squeeze hard enough that Naruto’s air was cut off, but with enough pressure to remain a constant threat. Ignoring the hands grappling at his wrist and forearm, he used his free hand to grab Naruto’s right wrist in a vice-like grip, pulling it so that the appendage was fully stretched.

“I’m hungry,” he informed his prisoner. “Stay still or it will hurt more.”

“W-what!?” Naruto stammered, a thin sheet of sweat beginning to form over his brow. “You said you wouldn’t--!”

“I said I wouldn’t change you,” Sasuke informed him. “I said nothing about biting.”

“You mother-fucking bastard!”

Sasuke chuckled softly before bringing his mouth to Naruto’s arm. Gently, he traced with his tongue the faint blue line that indicated the large vein just below his skin. Naruto shuddered, feeling pins and needles begin to settle in his arm from the strained position it was forced into.

The tongue withdrew, and Naruto couldn’t stop the whimpered “Please” that escaped his trembling lips.

Sasuke ignored him. With two long teeth, as sharp and pointed as a blade, he pierced the flesh and pushed his fangs deep into liquid, coppery warmth.