Mixed Communication

Summary: Sometimes it's not a lack of understanding that's the problem - it's when the other person understands far too much.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Naruto character. In fact, most likely my favorite one won't even make it in this story *sigh* have fun in Hong Kong Itachi!!!

Warnings: YAOI, boyxboy, poetic ramblings, language per usual, smutty!Deidara

A/N: Yeah, remind me to update the a/n when I am sleepy at 5am posting a new chapter, plz?

Oh yeah, and reviews make mouths happy ^_^

Review responses at the end

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Sasuke stood in the doorway of his bedroom, shaking his head as he looked at the blond spread out across his bed. The idiot was already asleep. He must’ve been more drunk than he let on.

The raven sat down next to Naruto, gently washing him with the towel he’d picked up in the washroom. The blond had one arm crooked over his eyes to shield himself from the light, and his legs were all akimbo. Sasuke was tempted to molest him in his sleep, but knew it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as it had been when the blond had been awake. He nudged the other mans cock a bit, just to see the reaction as it moved in a slow circle. Even soft, that bit of him looked delicious.

Sasuke sighed, folding the towel and laying it down next to the bed. Now that his raging hormones had been satisfied, his good sense was making a comeback. The cool practical part of his brain was telling him this was just a one-night stand, pointing out that the blond would be going back to America soon. But he hated one-night stands. They always left him with this nagging sense of responsibility. And with Naruto, there was more to it than that.

He remembered the odd moments of compatibility they’d shared during the day. The brilliant smirking grin, the way the blond showed far too much emotion, waving his hands around like a madman when he was excited. But it was refreshing, too. And he thought about how the blond had acted in the business meeting, keeping his cool during the tricky parts of the negotiation, barely letting on when his boss stared acting inappropriate. Deidara was right. Naruto was special.

But he was just an American. How could an American ever truly understand him, even if he was special? Even his countrymen seemed to have trouble understanding the way he saw beauty, the things that calmed his soul. He didn’t want a relationship that would be all about the surface, even if it would be fun and intriguing. He wanted something deeper. Even a one-night stand would be better than another shallow affair that made him feel nothing but empty inside.

Haku… what hurt most about Haku hadn’t been his departure, but that he’d made such a mistake to start the relationship in the first place. He let his fingertips trace the whiskers-like scars on the blond’s cheek, smiling as Naruto turned his head to nuzzle against his hand. It was impossible to compare Naruto and Haku. Haku had been absolutely beautiful; beautiful in such a way that people often didn’t realize he was a man. He had been elegant and charming when Sasuke had first met him, like the perfect wakashu stepping out of old-time kabuki theater. Sasuke had been enchanted by the surface, and Haku had been the perfect accomplice in his own seduction.

By the time they both realized what lay beneath the surface, things were far too late. Not that Haku had ever tried to intentionally deceive him. The fault truly lay in his own impossible fantasy, a fantasy Haku had known he couldn’t live up to. He tried though. His personality was such that, at the beginning, all he wanted to do was please. Sasuke had found himself with someone who seemed like everything he’d always wanted – and found he barely wanted him at all. The failure haunted him. He’d watched Haku dry out from the inside, faced with an impossible dream, becoming more bitter every day.

When they fought, the wounds had been like papercuts, never striking deep enough to sever anything vital, only deep enough to wound. After a while, Sasuke found that there was not even enough in him to be angry anymore. The words became rote, responses they’d built up, neither one of them brave enough to admit their failure. Until Haku had finally done it, telling him, “I feel like I’m dying here with you. I hate this person I’ve become. I can’t do this anymore.”

He’d still been just as beautiful as the first day Sasuke had seen him as he said those words, still so elegant. So strong, to be able to say the words they both felt in their hearts, while the raven kept silent.

Sasuke pressed a fingertip against the still-swollen lips of the man in his bed. No, Naruto and Haku weren’t anything alike. He wasn’t sure elegant could be a word that was ever applied to the blond at all – but then he thought back to how the blond had sat, so calm, watching the dance floor, looking for all the world like he was sitting still on top of the wave of crazy energy coming off of all the people in the room. And he was so beautiful, though no one would ever mistake him for a woman. And he’d been so vulnerable, looking up with bright blue eyes, lips parted, panting in need.

Sasuke smirked down at his cock, reminding himself that molesting the blond in his sleep was probably not a good idea. He laid down beside the blond, pulling the covers up over both of them. He had to push legs out of the way to get enough room, and curled an arm around the blond’s waist. Naruto responded by grunting softly and turning on his side, snuggling back against the raven. Sasuke blinked at the unexpected contact, and found that he had to count to ten and then try to think of suitable relaxing images. Having his cock suddenly nestled against the blond’s ass was not helpful, especially since the crack was still moist from their previous activities. Sasuke sighed against the blond’s neck, rubbing himself against the so-soft skin, telling himself just a bit wouldn’t hurt, and it felt so amazingly good. He stopped himself before taking it further though, turning around so that his back was pressed up against the blond. As consolation, he pulled the blond’s hand up and intertwined their fingers; letting their hands rest on the curve of the blond’s hip.

Whatever way you wanted to slice it, he had to admit to himself – he wanted more than just this night. Even if just to see how things could be. He wondered if, when they woke, the blond would feel the same way.

. . .

Sakura leaned against Deidara as they climbed into the back of the car, thoroughly exhausted. She flipped open her cell phone and smirked.

“Nani?” Deidara said, looking over.

“Just so you know, I’ve been kidnapped by a bastard. It’s all your fault. XOXO Naru.”

“Hah,” the blond said, grinning. “But why is it all your fault, yeah?”

“Um, well you see,” Sakura said, pausing and looking over at her friend. “Is it possible that Sasuke speaks English?”

“Well, yeah, he’s an Uchiha. Hates his accent though, I don’t know why, it’s so much better than a lot of people. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, you see...” Sakura said, proceeding to relay her version of the day’s events to an increasingly hysterical Deidara.

“You actually said,” the blond said, snickering, “In front of him... and he didn’t even react? The ice prick has his act down pretty damn well!”

“Shut up! It’s not funny!” Sakura protested, and then broke down into giggles as well. “Well ok, so if you look at it from that point of view, it’s hilarious, but – what must he think of me now?”

“Are you kidding? He just got laid, yeah? I doubt seriously he’s thinking anything at all of you at the moment.”

“Well, yeah,” Sakura replied... poor Naru-chan... “But I mean later. I don’t want anything to mess up this deal.”

Deidara shook his head. “Won’t happen. I promise. Besides, I’m pretty sure fucking your personal assistant is a bit weightier than some inappropriate comments during work, anyways.”

“Maybe. But –“

“Plus, trust me. There’s no way in hell Itachi will keep the deal from going through.”

Sakura looked at him, then shrugged, secretly relieved. “Boy, you must have some sort of crazy hold over that man, the way you have him wrapped around your little finger.”

“Well, yeah, it’s not quite like that,” the blond said, looking down with a smile. “But you know this dirty mouth you keep talking about?” he continued, leering at her.

“Ack! Hentai!” she said, squeezing against the car door.

Deidara laughed. “Don’t worry, Sakura. I know you... you can’t handle the truth!”

Sakura blinked at him. “Did you just quote ‘A Few Good Men’ at me?”

The blond shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a few good men, yeah?”

Sakura looked at him, then let her face drop into her hands, murmuring to herself as they drove to the hotel about crazy, insane, idiotic blondes and wondering how she ever got herself mixed up with these type of people in the first place. Then she thought of her boyfriend. And sighed even more. One poor, lonely, innocent (well ok so that’s a lie but) Sakura, caught between all these crazy, perverted, echhi guys. A few good men, indeed.

. . .

Naruto awoke suddenly in the middle of the night. He felt a warm body pressed against his back and a hand on his hip. He looked back, seeing the black hair of the man he’d slept with the night before. A twinge in his lower back made him aware he’d be reminded of that activity on a fairly regular basis, at least for a little while. He was so out of practice it wasn’t even funny.

He curled back over on his side, feeling the raven shift in his sleep, his hand sliding off Naruto’s hip. The air between their bodies was chilly. Naruto looked at the clock on the bedside table. Four-thirty in the morning. His sleep schedule was really messed up.

For a while, he tried going back to sleep, but it was no use. It was like his body had this internal alarm system that only worked once in a while, making him fully awake without even having to go through the annoyance of trying to wake up. The only problem was, the alarm went off at the most random of times. No use, he supposed.

He slid off the bed and looked around blearily for his pants. He didn’t really feel like putting them on, they were too tight and held too many memories of the previous night. Things he didn’t want to bother thinking about at the moment. He gazed around the room and saw a folded cloth on the back of one of the chairs. Picking it up, he saw that it was a simple white cotton yukata. He glanced back at the man sleeping on the bed, face glowing in the faint lights of the city. He hoped Sasuke didn’t mind if he wore this around the house.

He slipped it on, going back out into the apartment. The first thing he did was go to the entry way and pick up his shirts, folding them neatly. He looked over and saw his boots there. He didn’t even remember when they came off the night before, everything had been so rushed. He remembered every other detail though, memories just waiting to replay in his mind. But not yet. Not yet.

He thought about going back and getting his jeans, maybe grabbing his cell phone and texting Sakura so that she knew he was alright. He didn’t want to go back in there yet though. He didn’t want to look at Sasuke. Well, he did, but – looking at Sasuke seemed to short-circuit his brain, leave him all fuzzy-headed without any good sense. Sakura would probably say he didn’t have much good sense to begin with, but that only meant that he needed to keep a very firm hold on what he did have.

He decided he wanted to learn more about the man he’d given himself to the night before. It was funny how a person’s living space could tell you more about them than most words that came from their lips. He supposed it was because people were less guarded in their homes, or never realized how much they gave away. As he walked through the apartment, the only light came from the windows that lined one side of the apartment, letting the city invade the space with ghostly illumination that caused long shadows on the tatami floor.

Venturing deeper, he discovered random pale nightlights that cast everything with a faint blue glow. He glanced into the kitchen. It looked very modern, and rarely used. The dining room was formal with some modern art piece on the wall at the far end, suspended between two layers of glass. It almost looked like a black tree on a very green field set against a snow-grey sky, with a strip of orange sunlight crossing behind the tree. That was probably only one way to see it, because the painting was so abstract – but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Going back into the hallway he ventured into the living room, a massive room that stretched across one side of the apartment. Floor to ceiling windows lined the side of the room. He walked over to them, looking out across the city. Neon flickered on and off in the distance. It figured the Uchiha would have a penthouse suite with an amazing view.

He walked over to the bookshelves on the far side of the room, tracing his fingers over the spines of the volumes on the shelves. He could barely make out the titles in the darkness. He pulled one out at random and flipped through it. He ran his finger down the writing on the page. He didn’t know many kanji; his Japanese was best when spoken. But he’d always wanted to be able to read these types of books. Part of him envied Sasuke’s knowledge, the chances he’d had being able to grow up in this country. It felt more like home to him than America in so many ways, but he also felt so foreign here.

He walked closer to the window, looking at the different books. At the end of the bookshelf, there was an alcove with a hanging scroll. The picture was simple, pine branches over water that held the faintest glimpse of a black koi. He looked at the detail of the brushstrokes, the suggestion of something from the union of color and space. It was beautiful.

On the shelves closest to the window, he found a stereo system. There was an easy chair across from the stereo next to the window, and headphones lay on an end table next to the chair. Naruto looked at the racks of CDs, wondering what type of musical taste Sasuke had. He was surprised. Some of the music was harder than he would have expected from the man he had met yesterday afternoon, but seemed perfectly suited to the Sasuke he’d hung out with at the club. On a lower shelf, he saw that the selection changed to more classical Japanese music.

His finger paused on one of the CDs, and he pulled it out, holding it up to look at the cover in the faint city lights. Nagasawa Katsutoshi. He remembered that name from his childhood. Jiraya had mainly played Japanese music in the house, had loved anything with the koto and the shakuhachi. He’d said it made him feel like he could give his soul a taste of home. That type of romantic rambling seemed at odd with his grandfather’s normal personality, but Naruto supposed that technically he wrote romance novels. Even if most of the time they were short on romance and long on echhi.

Nagasawa was a composer. Naruto had always been drawn to his music. It was different than traditional western classical music. The way the music was tied together by the instruments, surrounded by moments of silence – it reminded him of the picture scroll, so different than western art, which tended to fill in even the smallest space with something rather than leave it blank. He preferred the delicacy, the way the music just existed without forcing the issue.

He ran his finger down the tracks on the CD, and found what he was looking for at track nine. His favorite piece growing up was called Hoshun. He turned on the stereo and loaded the disk, skipping ahead to his song. Picking up the headphones, he put them on and pressed play, ready to adjust the volume as needed.

His ears were greeted with those first plaintive notes from the shakuhachi. He curled up in the chair by the window, feeling the music sink down into his bones. It was easily the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. It was like the melody was dancing over water, growing out of itself, developing a countermelody and drawing it into the dance, ever evolving. He could feel the peace spreading throughout his body. He wondered if it made Sasuke feel the same way. He wondered if he could fall in love with someone who could love this song as much as he did, who could understand why it was so important.

He looked out the window as he listened, leaning his head against the back of the chair. The view was magnificent. Here, you could catch glimpses of the mountains. He wondered what time dawn would be coming. He wondered what the dawn would hold, how Sasuke would react. Would things be awkward? Would Sasuke throw him away, after having gotten what he wanted? Naruto didn’t feel like Sasuke was like that – but he’d been fooled before. It may have been years ago, but it was still etched on his heart. Sometimes he wondered if he waited so long to try again because he didn’t trust his own judgment, even if Sakura did say he had a great bullshit detector. He felt Sasuke was different, but there was still that niggling feeling of doubt.

He wondered what he wanted, but then, upon asking the question, found that the answer was obvious. He wanted to be loved and cherished and challenged; to be able to share himself with someone else and have that person recognize who he truly was – someone who could realize that there were no masks; every bit of him that he showed to the world was a part of himself. And, a part of him really wanted Sasuke to be the person to do that for him. He never would have come home with him otherwise.

He closed his eyes as he listened to the music, feeling sleep tease against his consciousness, sending images into his mind that only his unconsciousness could hope to figure out. The chair really was comfortable, and the headphones were perfect. This moment, this stillness, was perfect.

. . .

When Sasuke woke up, he found his bed empty. He couldn’t help the sadness that brushed against his heart. He’d hoped for something different, but he supposed that was what he got for moving so fast.

He got up, frowning when he didn’t see his yukata folded on top of his chair. He must have put it away already. He glanced down at the side of the bed, and raised an eyebrow when he saw the pants still crumpled on the floor. Curious, he walked out into the hall, noting that the blond’s clothes and shoes were still in the entryway, though the clothes were now folded and resting atop the boots.

He stepped into the living room, and saw the tuft of blond hair sticking out over the back of his favorite easy chair. Coming closer, he saw Naruto curled up in the chair asleep, wearing his yukata and listening to his headphones. Dawn was breaking. The sunlight illuminated the blond’s tan skin, making it almost glow. He knelt beside the chair, letting his fingers play lightly in the spun-gold bangs above sleeping eyes. Curious, he picked up the CD case from the side table. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the artist. Not what he would have expected at all.

The faint sadness from before was replaced by the sheer wonder of this moment, of being able to look at the blond as he slept, seeing the slightest hint of a leg where the yukata wasn’t closed properly, looking at Naruto’s eyes and wondering what he saw in his dreams.

It wasn’t the same as waking up next to the blond, but moments like this, he could accept. They were moments to live into, moments that you hold lightly so they won’t burst open into nothingness at careless touch.

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Review Responses

Prism0467 - seriously :) now, lets just see how well they stay on the same wavelength...

Nickles - glad you liked the hawtness :) and as for inquiring minds..... they just have to wait! mwuhaha ^_^

airhead622 - thanks!!

Midnight Essence - I have a strong fondness for the word fuck, it's probably one of my favorite words. Glad you liked the smexy stuff :) and yes, i'm slowly caving into the amazingness that is Itachi.... wicked wicked evil smexy bastard that he is here ^_^

hieisdragoness18 - thanks!!

Kei-chan - ^_^ Yeah, Sasuke has just a *tad* bit of the bastardness in him, no? Have to love it though :) I like the outfits too! I have this amazing love of hot pink and black. It would be terribly cool if Sakura's line existed for real!! Feel free to recreate the business cards :) it was fun researching all the little business stuff that I know little to nothing about, just to try and make things authentic. ... I know I rushed S&N together, but hey, it *was* supposed to be pwp... but i dunno, sometimes passion is like a diamond, you can hold off with everyone except that one person who knows exactly what to do to make you cave and *love* it. Hope this chapter keeps you enthralled, there will be more coming, believe it!!