Pranksters

Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed. It's always nice to hear what people think of the story. :) Thanks also to my beta for always cleaning up my stuff.


Pranksters 7

No Turning Back

Naruto pressed his commuter pass against the card reader. The machine beeped in approval allowing him to pass through the red gates. Naruto filed behind the old man in front of him and stuffing his hands and commuter pass into his pockets, passed up the overcrowded escalator for the relatively empty stairs. He took them two at a time, staring at the floor to mark his next step carefully. He nearly tripped when he hazarded a quick glance up and noticed the large posters following him along the wall.

His quick leaps up the stairs halted completely as he surveyed the line of alternating color and black and white images presenting the same scenes: Gaara’s eyes watching him behind lowered too long lashes and an expression that said “you can’t have me.” Naruto noted his own face wasn’t visible, but his body language was a little too honest for comfort. A bottle of fancy looking perfume sat in the corner with the word “Aijin” scrawled across it in fancy roman lettering.

Naruto quickly lowered his head and strode up the last remaining steps. He tried not to think about those familiar green eyes.

Naruto emerged from the subway station on a quiet street corner. He squeezed his arms together to brace himself against the wind picking up, stepping up to the curb while the figure of a glowing red man instructed him not to cross the street. He looked both ways, noting the empty state of both sides of the street and briskly trotted across the broad white stripes to the other side.

This part of town was usually bustling at night but the weekend crowd had thinned out to unfortunate salary men being dragged out by their bosses. Naruto passed an anxious looking man in a thin suit smiling uneasily at a heavier set older man while talking pleasantly to him outside the elevator leading up to a tower of Izakayas. He chuckled to himself as he passed, slipping beyond the motley skyscrapers crammed with offices and eateries, slipping into a dingier looking side street filled with more of the same.

A large green sign was set next to a small café. Large blocky white letters advertised the B1 level pub down the dark narrow staircase curling into the ground. Naruto braced his hand against the wall as he descended, taking each step slowly to the dark brown door at the end. He pushed it open carefully, poking his head in and nodded to the bartender across the way.

This was the place.

He stepped into the warmly lit pub, noting the large screen television broadcasting a K1 fight. A large group of young men, probably college age, crowded around with heavy glasses of beer balanced in unsteady hands while they shouted or groaned with each new development.

A familiar hand waved from a booth on the opposite side. Shikamaru waved his fingers beckoning Naruto to a cozy looking table already cluttered with a few glasses and a plastic yellow basket of half eaten fish and chips.

“Starting the party without me?” Naruto raised an eyebrow.

“Dinner,” Shikamaru said. He stuffed another chip into his mouth.

Naruto sank into the cushioned seat opposite Shikamaru. He shook his head while smiling at his partner before picking up the makeshift book of laminated paper to peruse the drink menu.

“Any good foreign beers or should I stick to the locals?” he asked. He ignored the food items for now.

“Depends on your taste. Dark beers are good, but stay away if it’s light. I thought you couldn’t drink?” Shikamaru dipped his fish into the oily glob of tartar sauce and took a giant bite. Naruto couldn’t help thinking how good it looked.

“The underwear shoot is over.” Naruto pried his eyes away from Shikamaru’s greasy, deep fried feast. “But Sasuke is calling me in for another one this Sunday. Something about needing to tell a story, whatever that means. I figured one beer won’t kill me.”

“I thought they already released the posters. Wasn’t that your naked butt assaulting me on my way out of the subway?” Shikamaru smirked.

“I was not naked!” Naruto yelled. He paused, looked around the pub quickly, but not even the bartender turned his head. “I was wearing underwear, which you’d know if you saw anything below my waist,” he said more quietly. Shikamaru smiled.

“Go get your beer. You can tell me why you’ve been MIA when you get back.”

Naruto didn’t argue. He picked up the menu and carried it with him to the bar counter. A foreign looking man in a black t-shirt and a black apron tied around his jeans smiled at him.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

Naruto glanced at the menu. “One Asahi Dry.”

“Any food?”

Naruto thought of the crisp looking fish and chips, trying not to remember how delicious the smell of something fried could be.

“No thanks,” he forced a smile. He placed a thousand yen bill on the counter. The bar tender pulled out a chilled glass, filling it to the top from the tap. He placed the foaming cup on the table, grabbed the bill and entered it into the register. Naruto held out his hand for the few hundred yen coins he received as change. “Thanks,” he said and took his beer back to the table.

By the time he reached the booth, Shikamaru’s food was gone. The empty basket was pushed aside while Shikamaru nursed his second glass of what seemed to be a dark brew. “Sit, Uzumaki. Tell me why I haven’t seen my own partner outside of class for nearly two weeks now.”

Naruto sank back into the booth and sat his glass onto the table with a heavy thud. He thought about where he could possibly begin.

“You know Sasuke’s back, right?” Naruto stared at the top of his glass. He watched the bubbles continue to fizz on top.

“Obviously. He’s the one plastering pictures of you all over the city.”

“After our big presentation of doom he called me up and we got the gang together. He um, asked me to model for him.”

“In exchange for what?” Shikamaru never missed a beat.

Naruto met his eyes sheepishly. “For help with Gaara.”

“You’re planning to jump your roommate? Should I close my ears now and feign ignorance when Temari threatens to kill me later?”

“We’re not going to hurt him,” Naruto said. “I… I’m interested in him.” Naruto looked back down at his glass. He took a sip hurriedly.

“Actually, I meant the other type of jump, but, tell me, why do you have to ask your ex for quote end quote help when you can confess it yourself?”

Naruto’s eyes grew wide. “I can’t just confess to him! Are you crazy? He’ll kick me out!” Naruto slumped into his chair a little more. “And it took me so long to convince him to be roommates too…”

“And playing little games with your ultra popular, ultra successful ex-boyfriend is a sure fire way to win him over?” Shikamaru didn’t look too convinced. Put that way, Naruto didn’t blame him. “Look, let me give you some advice. The Sabakus are dense as bricks when it comes to relationships. You have to hit them over the head with it.”

“Gaara isn’t Temari,” Naruto said stubbornly. “Just because all your tricks failed on her doesn’t mean Gaara won’t pick up on it.” He took another hurried sip of beer.

“And what plan does Uchiha have that is so fool-proof?” Shikamaru prodded.

“He’s making Gaara come to me,” he said cheerfully.

“And is it working?” Shikamaru asked. He tilted his head to the side to show he was listening.

Naruto’s smile slipped. “No, no, not really.” He paused, cupping the chilled mug with both palms. “For a moment I thought that maybe… maybe I had a chance. But I guess I was wrong.”

“Things haven’t been going according to plan? Sabaku hasn’t come running to confess his undying love yet?” Shikamaru chortled over his own comment.

“It’s like he’s being even colder towards me ever since the first shoot. I can’t figure out what I did wrong. And even after I did that stupid modeling job for him.”

“Wait, back up. You did a modeling job for him? What sort of job?”

“A client working for Calvin Klein needed a Japanese model. Instead of going to an agency he put the responsibility on Gaara and presto, Gaara nominated me. I only did it because he asked me to, as a friend.”

“That’s the job you were starving yourself for?”

“I wasn’t starving, I just couldn’t eat my usual junk food. And besides, it’s over with now. And after Sunday I can eat like a pig again.”

“That’s fine and dandy, but you missed one big point.” Shikamaru leaned his elbows against the table. Clasping his hands together, he rested his chin on the backs of his palms.

“What do you mean?”

“By agreeing to do a job professionally for a CEO of a company you’ve just entered yourself into a working relationship, whether you’re friends or not. Did it ever occur to you that his distance is because you are now part of his professional world? And more importantly, he is now in your debt. So think wisely about how you’re going to have him repay it. You’re slower than I thought if you’re expecting him to just throw himself in your arms because of Uchiha’s supposed plan. Don’t throw away your advantages. It’s not too late to take up the offensive.”

Naruto sat back quietly. Brooding over his cup, he pondered Shikamaru’s words carefully. He lifted his blue eyes to ask a question, but Shikamaru nodded before he got the words out. Yes, you idiot, don’t sit on your ass and go do something about it.

Naruto furrowed his eye brows. He looked down at the disappearing foam on his beer. Gaara was such a mystery. The reason why he accepted Sasuke’s help in the first place was because his own actions weren’t very effective.

“I don’t know what I should do,” Naruto admitted.

“You’re so troublesome,” Shikamaru shook his head. “You should have told me first. You think I haven’t learned anything after dating the only Sabaku female for the past few years?”

“I thought you two only dated a year,” Naruto tried to think back to when Temari finally admitted to being Shikamaru’s girlfriend.

“Officially. Or so that’s what Temari believes,” Shikamaru smirked. He took a long drought of his beer. “So are you going to tell me this story or what?”

“It’s not much of a story really. All my attempts to flirt with him have failed and even my pranks have failed to give him any sort of clue. He brushed off everything like I had just commented on the weather. And then he started to return the pranks and lied about having a relationship with his intern,” Naruto growled out that last part.

“Wait, back up. Sabaku Gaara, the stone faced CEO of Sabaku Groups and Mr. Indifference himself played a prank on you?”

“Yeah, he was the one that put those porno pics in our presentation packets. I found the magazine in his office drawer.” Naruto took a deep breath. He rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “That was also around the time he led me to believe he was dating his intern.”

“Che, I don’t know why you’re freaking out. You’ve got him.”

Naruto leaned back into the dark brown cushions of the booth. “What do you mean?”

“He always ignored your pranks before, right? He never let them bother him, meaning he didn’t think there was anything special behind it other than your usual attempts to get attention by being obnoxious.”

Naruto stuck out his tongue. Shikamaru countered with the “you know I’m right” look as he liked to call it. Naruto crossed his arms and turned up his nose.

“Anyways, if he’s playing pranks on you then your message has finally gotten across. Why else would he join you in your own game?”
“What do you mean my message got across?” Naruto’s heartbeat began to quicken. He could hear it in his own ears.

“It means he knows about your feelings. This game you’ve set up, this… prank war is how you chose to pursue him. By pulling a prank on you it means he’s acknowledging your interest. He’s welcoming the chase.” Shikamaru paused. He looked at Naruto expectantly, waiting for the meaning to sink in.

“But he made me think he was taken! He made me think…” Naruto was so confused. He grasped his head with both hands, wondering why he didn’t think of that. “And Sasuke said… and…” Naruto looked at Shikamaru. “Why would he do that?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “To give you a challenge? To test your sincerity? To see how far you were willing to go to have him? Keep in mind the Sabakus are not a trusting lot when it comes to relationships. You remember how long it took to become friends with them. Now imagine trying to earn that trust tenfold.”

Naruto made a fist and hit himself in the forehead. “And I responded by bringing home my ex-lover and making him think we were making out all night. Way to go Uzumaki.”

“You didn’t mention that part. Uh, has Gaara played anymore pranks on you lately?” Shikamaru asked carefully.

Naruto tried to think, but lately things at home have just been quiet and oddly tense. As if they were both uncomfortable being with each other. He thought briefly of the underwear ad stint, wondering if that was a possibility, but then he recalled Gaara’s sincere plea and his resorting to calling on their friendship. Gaara never did that before.

“No. None since that first time. Not since…” I brought home Sasuke he finished mentally. Naruto’s shoulders slumped.

“Game over,” Shikamaru shrugged. He pushed his beer forward, frowning. “You can drink the rest of that one too. You’ll need it before going home tonight.”

Naruto snorted. He pushed the beer back across the table. “I don’t think drowning my sorrows in beer is going to help me feel any better when I wake up tomorrow.”

“No,” Shikamaru pushed it back, “but it will help you feel less nervous when you ‘fess up to the truth.” Naruto met Shikamaru’s dark brown eyes. His friend watched him, unblinking, hand still pushing the tall mug forward. Naruto sighed. He shook his head, grabbed the offered beer and took a long gulp. The bitter drink slid down smooth.

Shikamaru was right. He was right. Honesty was the best policy. Tonight he would go home, he’d march straight up to Gaara and tell him all of this was a bad prank.

His heart began to pound at the thought. He lifted the mug to his lips and began gulping the rest of the contents. He planned to finish it when his phone began vibrating in his coat pocket. He put the beer down and fished out his orange phone.

“Hello?”

“Where are you? I’m sending a car to pick you up now,” Sasuke’s voice said on the other end of the receiver.

“I’m at a bar with Shikamaru. What’s so important?” Naruto said.

“I need you at an event tonight. We’re promoting the campaign. I’m giving you over to the driver. Tell him where you are. When he gets there, there are clothes in the car. I want you dressed and ready by the time you arrive.”

“Where the heck are you taking me?” Naruto yelled.

“TV Asahi.”

Naruto paused. Was he serious? Was Sasuke seriously planning to throw him on TV? Just like that?

“See you soon, dobe.”

Shikamaru looked at him curiously. Naruto lowered the phone and covered the receiver with his left hand. “Sorry Shikamaru, looks like I gotta go.”


* * *


Gaara leaned against the left armrest. His eyes focused on the image in front of him while his mind was a million miles in another direction.

The first time had been an accident. He really hadn’t meant to give Naruto modeling work, but he was a convenient choice at the time and, perhaps, in the CEO’s mind more so than he cared to admit. But what would he do now? This time it was up to Naruto; and looking at the very successful proofs that were delivered by a photographer full of praise, Gaara worried for the first time ever that he might lose his best friend.

Gaara forced himself to turn the photo. The smiling face in the first photo changed to a more playful smirk. The snug white boxer briefs hung low enough on tan hips to show the tip of his tattoo a good few inches below his belly button. Instantly, the image of Uchiha’s cheek pressed against those marks flashed in the back of his mind. His mouth had been at that very spot.

Gaara turned the photo quickly.

The next shot captured Naruto from behind. His hands came up high on his hips, flexing his back and “rippling” as Uchiha once put it. Gaara remembered touching that shoulder and feeling those nicely toned arms. His eyes slid to the fabric clinging to Naruto’s behind. The shadows rounded him out nicely. Gaara tilted his head. He didn’t notice that part at the photo shoot. But perhaps nerves had been a factor.

Gaara’s eyelids lowered. He had seen the posters plastered up along bridges and billboards and high up on major buildings like the 109 and 101. More shocking than seeing himself in large billboards was the image of Naruto reaching for him, his body language professing every bit of truth that perhaps once rested behind Uchiha’s careless statement.

I can see why he’s attracted to you.

Was he? Was he really? When Gaara saw the first poster he stopped in his tracks. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk despite the bustle around him and stared at that image. For a moment he thought he had found his proof—the sign he had vainly looked for. Looking at the photos in Naruto’s most recent portfolio, Gaara was more convinced that Naruto was a good model.

Gaara turned the page a little harshly. He took a quick breath, releasing it quickly and pushed the portfolio away. He turned his head, facing the wall closest to him and noted the hands on the clock ticking noisily.

Where was Naruto? It was a week night. Normally he would be home by now.

His eyes slid slowly towards the photo spread out on his desk. His eyes darted towards the office door quickly, ears listening for any hint of anyone approaching. Carefully, Gaara reached for it and picked it up.

The cameraman took the shot from a lower position, zeroing in on the bulge between two shapely tan thighs nicely framed by the cut of the white briefs. Naruto’s muscular torso curved upwards and while his face wasn’t in the shot, the tattoo was unmistakable.

Gaara tried to pry his eyes away from the S-curve between the line of the high cut briefs fitting his thigh and the bottom heavy curve outlining Naruto’s generous package. His eyes sought out the light on those smooth thighs before trailing up to the slight dip between Naruto’s hips and the beginnings of a V that disappeared beneath smooth white fabric.

Gaara forced himself to turn away. He contemplated closing the portfolio and heading straight for the shower. Instead he flipped the page, gritting his teeth when the next photo showed the flip side of that same pair.

The high cut briefs were not briefs. The waist band disappeared into a thick v hugging the full cheeks of Naruto’s bare buttocks. As soon as he felt the first stirrings of lust, Gaara knew he should have shut the portfolio then and there. But his eyes refused to look away, too drawn to the shadows accentuating two perfectly shaped globes. Naruto was essentially naked. And only a thin strip of fabric reminded Gaara that this was not meant to be pornographic but good advertising.

And yet, Gaara couldn’t help spreading his legs a little more in his chair, wondering what Sasuke would have done if he’d been a little more playful at that photo shoot; wondering what would have happened had he let his hands slip down to those two globes and dug fingers into their flesh.

Gaara’s eyes shot towards the door. Naruto wasn’t home yet. He stood up, ignoring the beginnings of an erection rubbing against his undergarments as he walked over to the office door, shut it calmly and locked the door.

He returned to his seat, pulled out the two matching photos and put them side by side as they were meant to be viewed.

Is this what Uchiha saw behind Naruto’s bedroom door—those lean thighs parted, welcoming him to the hefty prize nestled snugly in between? Gaara ghosted his fingers over his slacks. His fingers swept over himself gently, back and forth, imagining how he’d touch Naruto if he were ever given the chance.

His eyes drifted over to the other side—to the nearly naked backside taunting him. He imagined Naruto in that pair, crawling into his lap and grinding. Gaara imagined digging his fingers into that backside and pulling him in tighter; or pushing him down onto all fours, exploring those globes with his hands, his lips, and tongue.

Gaara breathed a little heavier. He stopped himself when he realized how hard he had started rubbing. He could already feel the moisture beading on his tip. He unzipped his pants and tugged them down, relieved when none of his wetness seemed to seep through his underwear. He went back to the fantasy centered on that thong—imagining peeling off the skimpy piece and rubbing himself against him and feeling his dripping cock slide between that valley.

Gaara slipped his hand beneath the hem of his shorts, gripping the base of his erection and sliding his hand up. Yes. It could feel like this, only better, he thought. He slid his hand to the pace he imagined—back, forth, back and forth, imagining the heat of his hand to be the heat of Naruto’s backside. His hips jerked forward impatiently.

This is so wrong, he thought to himself and yet he couldn’t stop looking and couldn’t stop touching. He fondled the tight sacs just below, giving out a slight groan before touching himself again. His hand felt sticky with his own fluids, easing the journey from base to tip. Closing his eyes he no longer looked at the photos. Instead he imagined Naruto naked, sweaty, and panting on his hands and knees while Gaara relieved himself against that perfect ass. Gaara sped up his hand imagining how he would touch Naruto—how he would tease and taunt in ways that would drive the other man insane.

Gaara arched his back, pushing his chest out forward while his hand picked up the pace. He’d make Naruto cry out in that breathy course groan he heard too many times that night and hear his own name cried out in Naruto’s startled high pitched tone.

Gaara’s eyelids fluttered open to look at the white expanse of his office door, imagining Naruto coming home, imagining Naruto walking in, finding him spread out, jerking off to his image. His heart pounded in his chest. Gaara clenched his teeth, doubling forward and slamming his right hand onto the desk. His fingers curled against the wood, nails raking against the grain. His eyes fell on the discarded image once more as he dragged out a long pained groan.

He tensed and held himself still for a moment. Closing his eyes his chin dropped down to his chest. His body heaved with shallow gasps that gradually grew deeper and further apart. He unclenched the fingers still stuffed inside his shorts and squeezed his eyes a little tighter when he felt something dripping onto his thigh. He reached for the box of tissue with his free hand, wondering why he didn’t think of that earlier.

Gaara cleaned himself off quickly. It wasn’t that he disliked being dirty, but sitting at his desk, dealing with the gritty aftermath of jerking off to his roommate’s image was unsettling. He dumped the wad of tissue in the waste bin and shucked off his slacks.

Thankfully, Naruto still wasn’t home.

Gaara closed the portfolio on his desk, picked up his discarded pants and unlocked his office. Looking down the hall at the empty entryway he prayed Naruto wouldn’t get home before he could make it to the shower and, hopefully, wash away the guilt.


***


Naruto shrugged into the black coat awkwardly. He left the collar down despite knowing Sasuke’s preference. It was the same coat he wore to meet Kiba. He lifted the bright orange shoe from the box sitting next to him and slipped his foot in. He wiggled his toes against the stiff fabric, but still it was comfy. He tugged the laces tight and made a double knot.

Sasuke’s choice in shoe surprised him. Sasuke was always about style and class. Sure the denim jeans and jacket were classy, but the bright orange Bathing Ape shirt and matching shoes were a bit on the wild side. Naruto wondered what exactly he was doing at Asahi Television studio today. He pulled out his necklace, letting it hang out for once. He didn’t think Sasuke would mind.

Naruto rolled his clothes into a pile and left them on the seat next to him. He pulled out his phone, pressing the side button to check the screen and noted the email icon. He pressed the round center button opening his inbox and noted two messages from Sasuke.

“Hair products are in the side pocket on the door. Messy is okay, but make it look intentional. Don’t forget to pop your collar.”

Naruto snorted after reading the email. He scrolled to the next one and opened it.

“Forget the collar. See you soon.”

Naruto chuckled. His right hand reached into the pocket lining the door. He felt a few items jumbled together at the bottom and enclosed his fingers on what felt like a container of wax. He pulled it up and sure enough, he held a palm sized container. Naruto dropped it into his lap and reached into the side pocket again. He pulled out a travel sized mirror, a comb and a pack of bobby pins. He ditched the pins and opened up the mirror.

His phone rang cheerfully, alerting him of new mail. Naruto finished his hair first, looking around for a tissue or handkerchief to wipe off the excess wax. He wondered what Sasuke wanted this time.

With a tissue clasped in one hand, he grabbed his phone with the other. He opened his inbox and paused. He stared at the name listed. Naruto blinked a few times and opened it.

“Will you be home soon? The photos came in today.”

At first Naruto thought he was talking about the perfume ad shoot, but remembering the large poster he saw in the subway earlier that night, his mind lit on the fact that he had just completed a Calvin Klein shoot some four days prior.

Naruto clumsily pressed the “reply” button and typed in his response.

“Sasuke called. Heading to Asahi studio.” He began to type “Look for me…” but thought twice about it. He pressed the back button, watching the text disappear beneath the dark cursor. He stared at the blinking cursor on the screen. “Wait up for me?” he typed. “There’s something I need to tell you.” His thumb hovered over the send button. He pressed it quickly and dropped his phone onto the seat.

He looked out the tinted window at the pedestrians walking busily along the sidewalk. Roppongi Hills loomed large in the bright lights. They were almost there.

Naruto felt a trill of nervousness. His heart began to speed up as they passed Roppongi crossing. Tokyo tower glowed red like a thin beacon in the distance. The car pressed on towards Akasaka.

Naruto jumped when his phone began ringing. He picked it up without checking the caller.

“Where are you?” It was Sasuke.

“We just passed Roppongi Crossing. We should be there pretty soon. Sasuke, what’s going on?”

“I’ve been invited as a special guest. They want to know about the ad campaign.”

“Did you tell Gaara?” Naruto asked.

“I’ll send him a memo. It’s a variety show, not the daily news. I doubt we’ll say much before they turn their attention to me.”

Naruto paused. “Then why do you need me there?” He had seen the Wednesday night variety show. He doubted the hosts would be interested in him when they had the world renowned photographer, Uchiha Sasuke to talk about.

“You won’t be thrown on stage for sure. I alerted them last minute that I could introduce one of the models. I want you there for meet and greets.”

The car was slowing to a halt. The driver turned his head to look at Naruto.

“This is it. Good luck, sir.”

The door opened before he could move. Sasuke shut his phone. “It’s about time,” he said.


* * *


Gaara’s hand hovered over his phone. He flipped it open once more, checked for new messages and put it down again. Naruto still hadn’t responded to his second email.

More than Naruto’s hint that he had something serious to tell him, the situation itself was bothering him. Naruto didn’t have an official manager and his only ties to the world of modeling were Uchiha and himself. Anything connected with the Calvin Klein campaign would go through him and he certainly hadn’t heard of any television appearances before tonight. That only meant one thing:

It involved Uchiha Sasuke.

And if Uchiha was promoting a campaign the Sabaku agency was heading, then he had just crossed the lines. He had no right to bring in Naruto. And that’s why Gaara was worried.

Gaara sucked up his wounded pride. This was a matter of business. He picked up his phone and pressed speed dial.

He tapped his foot, waiting for the dial tone. Naruto’s voice said hello before quickly explaining he couldn’t come to the phone right now and asked for a message. Naruto had placed his phone on manner mode. Meaning, Gaara was already too late. He considered calling Uchiha, but he didn’t think it would do much good.

Gaara walked hurriedly into the living room. He tried to remember what channel Asahi was on, wishing for once that he didn’t have cable television. He searched the directory and noted the Wednesday night variety show was nearly half over. He flipped to the channel quickly.

Two familiar looking comedians sat on either side of a young woman. Gaara wasn’t sure who she was and guessed it was a rising starlet he hadn’t yet had the privilege of pasting all over the city. They began discussing the making of a movie that had yet to hit theaters when Gaara lost interest. Had Naruto been mistaken? Gaara flipped through the basic channels just in case. He ruled out the dramas, the sports and the nightly news.

He looked at his watch and wondered if he had missed them. But no, that wasn’t possible. Naruto hadn’t messaged him that long ago and he wrote clearly that he was on his way there and not on his way out. Variety show segments could be short. Maybe they were saving him for the end. The show was live and not prerecorded like most. He would have to wait.

Gaara immediately began picking apart the message. Naruto’s sentences were terse. He must have been in a hurry at the time. He wondered what Naruto could possibly have to talk about. It had to be important for him to include it. Naruto wouldn’t ask him to wait up if it wasn’t.

Had he received another modeling offer? Was he going to quit school? Did he finally accept Uchiha’s offer and decide to run away with him to Europe? Gaara tried to tell himself that last one was preposterous. He frowned at the phone in his hand and wondered if he should call again.

He jumped when his phone began to ring. He looked at the screen quickly and let out a sigh.

“What do you need?”

“Hey bro, how’s it going? Haven’t talked to you in what, days now?” Kankuro said.

“Kankuro, you only call me when you need something, so what is it? I’m waiting for another call.”

“Can’t I just call to see how my little brother is doing? I hardly ever see you outside of board meetings these days.”

“Kankuro,” Gaara said warningly.

“Fine, I wanted to know if I could borrow your car Friday night. I’ve got a totally hot date.”

“Drop by my office for the keys. You’re paying for any damages you cause and filling up the tank before you return it.”

“Deal. Catch you later!”

“Bye.” Gaara snapped the phone shut. His eyes darted over to the television screen, but it was still the same girl.

“Get a grip Sabaku,” he told himself. He put his phone down reluctantly and went into the kitchen to make some tea.

Gaara pulled out a mug and placed the strainer over the top. He pulled out some loose leaf tea.

He thought about what Naruto might say when he got home. Had Naruto begun to notice it? Gaara had tried to keep his distance, but he wondered if perhaps a word or a glance had somehow betrayed him. Did Naruto know how he felt?

Gaara closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no use denying it. He had feelings for his roommate. He thought of the photos still sitting on the desk where he left them. He hadn’t jerked off to a photo since he was a teen; and never to a photo of an acquaintance, let alone a friend. But none of that seemed relevant now because Gaara had the sinking suspicion that it was too late. He had missed his window of opportunity. Now all he could do was hold on to what was left.

Gaara finished brewing his tea. He carried his mug into the living room and set it down on the coffee table. He checked his phone again, but there were no new emails or missed calls. He lifted his eyes to the screen, but neither Uchiha nor Naruto were there. Gaara glanced at the clock and noted the program would be on for another 20 minutes. He flipped through the channels again, just to make sure.

Still no luck. Gaara picked up his steaming tea and took a sip. He willed away all the anxiety with that one sip, feeling the liquid burn a warm trail into his core. There was no use stressing over something he had no control over. All he could do was wait and hope neither of them showed up in the next fifteen minutes. And if they did, well… he would deal with it later.

Gaara absently watched the rapid paced commercials. He could consciously name which company was responsible for each, recognizing a few of his own projects. He cringed at a particularly loud slogan and the cheesy animation that went with it. He’d have to check if that was in house or outsourced. The graphic design department obviously needed tighter instruction.

The program returned. Both hosts sat on a comfortable looking love seat. An adjacent love seat was empty next to them. Gaara turned up the volume.

“Next we have a surprise guest. Someone we all know, but don’t get to see a lot of,” said one host.

“Unless you’re looking in a magazine,” said his smiling partner.

“Fortunately we were able to nab him before he leaves for France again, but here to talk about his new project is the one and only, Uchiha Sasuke.”

The audience screamed in wild applause. The camera panned over to the stage side where Uchiha emerged looking cool and calm despite the rows of girls crying for him. He shook hand with both hosts and took a seat.

“So you’ve been in Japan now for a few weeks, how does it feel to be back?”

“It’s like coming home,” Uchiha said calmly. Female voices rose in cheer. He spared them a glance and gave the barest hint of a smile. He leaned back into the chair and made himself comfortable.

“Any thought about moving back permanently?” The audience liked that question. The sea of voices chanted for him to stay.

“Right now I have too many projects abroad. This trip was a… special occasion.” A collective “aww” rose in disappointment.

“So tell us about this project. Inuzuka Kiba contacted you directly and said I want you to create my new ad campaign, right?” Uchiha nodded. “And you agreed? Just like that?”

“I saw it as a challenge. Aside from my more artistic endeavors, whenever I photograph for a client, they already have the image and concept they want in mind. Inuzuka gave me complete freedom with this project. It’s a lot harder to design something from scratch.”

“Any concepts you had in mind while making this? Any sort of inspiration?”

“I guess you can say I wanted something sexy, but I also wanted something that would tell a story.” Uchiha looked straight at the camera and smiled. Gaara felt like that smile was meant for him.

“And we’ve already seen the first chapter it seems.” One of the hosts reached behind the couch and pulled out a roll of paper. He unfurled it carefully, revealing the colored poster Gaara had seen all over the city. “I think you got the sexy part down. But tell us, what is the story?”

“I can’t tell you that. You have to wait for it,” Uchiha smiled. “But it centers on the idea of the aijin, the lover. This person right here,” Uchiha pointed to Gaara’s image.

“It is a rather striking image. What inspired you to paint that character on the model’s forehead?”

“It’s not painted. It’s a tattoo. You can say this model is the one who inspired me.”

The audience rippled with shocked murmurs.

“Isn’t that unusual? Don’t modeling agencies usually turn away anyone with tattoos?”

“Typically, yes. This person is an acquaintance, not a model. I asked this person directly to participate in the shoot.”

“Wasn’t that a gamble?”

“For me? No.” Gaara grit his teeth. That bastard knew how to bait Gaara. He knew exactly what to dangle in front of him to get Gaara to comply. But he couldn’t deny that he was impressed. No wonder Uchiha was so successful.

“So we hear one of the models is actually here today backstage.” Gaara’s heart began to beat a little faster. “Is it her?” the host pointed to Gaara’s image, his face lit up hopefully.

Uchiha shook his head. The host drooped his head and made an exaggerated sad face. His partner whapped him on the head and told him to knock it off. The audience laughed.

“So this male model is also a bit of a mystery. We can’t see his face, but we hear you turned down over a hundred models, including a few international supermodels for the role.” Gaara’s eyes widened. He watched Uchiha nodding to confirm the rumors. He rejected international supermodels? “What was so special about this guy that you had to have him?”

“Let’s just say, no other man could do what he did in this shoot. I knew I could place my full confidence in him.” Gaara snorted.

“Well, we still have a few minutes left. Do we want to meet him? Hrm, what do you say ladies?” The audience went wild. The camera panned towards the many women cheering and shouting. “I think that answers it. Let’s bring him out.”

Gaara’s heart rate skyrocketed again. The camera panned towards the side stage and out walked Naruto. He wore the same denim jeans, the same black coat as that day he met Inuzuka, but the shirt and shoes were different. He looked young, a bit on the wild side and, yes, he admitted it, rather handsome. He waved to the screaming women cheering wildly for him. He greeted both hosts as Sasuke had and sat down next to the composed photographer.

“Could you introduce yourself to our audience?” one host asked.

Naruto looked into the camera. “My name is Uzumaki Naruto. I am 23 years old and a graduate student at Tokyo University.” The audience rippled at that. “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu,” he bowed.

“Smart and sexy,” the host teased. “And this is your first shoot?”

“Yes,” Naruto nodded.

“How was it? Was the other model really hot?” the other host asked enthusiastically. Gaara felt his cheeks heat up. His heart sped up a little as Naruto chuckled at the comment.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded. Gaara felt a thrill run through his body. He noted Naruto’s sincere smile and slight bashfulness as he said it. This wasn’t a lie to please the audience. Gaara smiled a little.

“And what about yourself? You’re an attractive guy. So why wasn’t your face included?” Naruto looked a little puzzled.

Uchiha leaned forward. “It was important to get the other model’s face in the shot. Had we painted that character, it wouldn’t be an issue, but that’s a real tattoo. It limited my angles. Not to mention, Uzumaki has a tattoo of his own.”

Voices rose in a collective hum of surprise.

“It’s obviously not on his back or his right arm. Would it be appropriate to let us know where?”

Uchiha smirked. He can show it to you.” He gave Naruto a nod. His roommate looked surprised, but he masked his sheepishness well. He stood up, pushed aside his coat and lifted the rather loose fitting orange shirt to show off an increasingly familiar pattern. The camera zoomed in on Naruto’s abs, amidst cheers and catcalls from the audience.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” one host said. Naruto laughed and let his shirt fall back in place. He fixed his jacket and took his seat.

“I’m sensing, Mr. Uchiha, that you prefer rather unique models. So I guess my next question is how did you find him? What made you trust him with this job over all those other models?”

Naruto looked at Sasuke. Gaara recognized the look. It was his way of asking, how do we answer this? Gaara was very interested in the answer.

Sasuke remained cool and collected. He looked at the camera and smiled. Sitting up a little straighter he rested his hand over the tan fingers sprawled on Naruto’s knee.

“He’s my lover.”

Two shocked hosts looked frantically at the live cameras. Naruto’s blue eyes were wide, glancing around wildly before stopping on the camera. He mouthed something repeatedly, but it was no use. Their mics had been cut and nothing could be heard over the roar of the crowd.


***


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