Life on the Road

So, this train wreck came about from me randomly wondering... with as obsessed as Naruto is with Sasuke, what would he do if, when everything was over with, Konoha wouldn't accept Sasuke back? And then I was like, "Well, duh. He's Naruto - he'd do something stupid and impulsive." Like becoming a missing nin and going on the run, following an extremely annoyed but secretly grateful Sasuke around. And of course there would be wangst over the UST, and wangst over Naruto giving up his dreams, and wangst over Sasuke very quietly feeling guilty. But mostly there would be crazy fighting as they tried not to kill each other in the process of living together on the run.

I decided to write a fic that would be a series of one-shots featuring random events that would take place as they were on the run. This first one is at a temporary home, probably a cheap apartment they're renting for the time being.


***

After much contemplation, Sasuke had decided that Naruto simply needed his ass kicked. He’d been begging for it since they’d been kids, really. It was probably the orange; it made him an easy target. ‘I’m here, I’m orange, kick my ass.’ It was simply Sasuke’s curse that he was the one destined from birth to do the aforementioned ass-kicking.

So he did. Kick Naruto’s ass, that is. Quite literally, in fact. The moron hadn’t even made it to bed the night before, so there was his ass, on the floor, silently informing Sasuke that it needed to be kicked. Who was the Uchiha to deny it that kicking when it was so obviously begging for it?

Naruto didn’t seem to agree. He immediately screeched, gingerly grabbing said ass and sitting up, blond hair tousled and wild blue eyes searching the room for whatever had attacked his rear. Sasuke didn’t bother to conceal himself. Instead, he dropped a particularly disgusting bowl - encrusted with week-old ramen - into Naruto’s lap.

“You were supposed to do the dishes.”

This wasn’t a conversation Sasuke had ever really envisioned himself having. Certainly, he’d had very carefully thought-out plans for his future. But they had mostly involved things like, ‘Kill Itachi’ and ‘Revive Clan.’ Maybe ‘Kill Itachi Again,’ just for good measure. ‘Revive Clan’ might have involved whatever woman he deemed adequate for assistance in that endeavor lecturing him about some form of house-cleaning, but he doubted it.

The point was, even if the conversation were to take place, he hadn’t expected to be on this side of it. And he certainly hadn’t expected to be having it with Naruto. The simple fact that the conversation needed to be had in the first place put Sasuke in a very bad mood. Thus, the kicking.

The kickee, for his part, stared down at the bowl, looked up at Sasuke, then sleepily contemplated throwing the bowl right back at the Uchiha.

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed, indicating that this would be a Bad Course of Action.

Naruto had learned a lot about Bad Courses of Action during his time living with Sasuke. They mostly involved temper tantrums, kunai, and broken windows. Kicking was mild, really, but his aching backside was currently begging to differ. Honestly, at least windows didn’t feel it.

Upon finding himself unable to toss the bowl - which was exuding a smell Naruto hadn’t known ramen could produce - right back at Sasuke, the blond settled on scowling instead. “Didn’t have to kick me…” he mumbled sleepily, rubbing at one eye with a tanned fist.

Sasuke would not be swayed by oafish cuteness. Uchihas were actually immune to cuteness of any kind - they had to be, or their own offspring would walk all over them. “Yes, I did.” He’d definitely considered the kicking to be a necessity. “It’s your turn to wash the dishes. If we’re going to be staying here for a while, I’d like the place to at least remain habitable.”

There ensued a short staring match in which Naruto refused to acknowledge the fact that he… didn’t really know what ’habitable’ meant, and Sasuke’s eye developed an interesting new twitch.

“Look,” the Uchiha began, speaking very slowly. “Sometimes, it’s very difficult for me to avoid killing you in the most gruesome way imaginable.” And he’d lived with Orochimaru, which tended to endow one with the uncanny ability to envision death in disturbingly gruesome ways - often involving messy castration. “This is one of those times. Meaning that, right now, it is in your best interest to wash the goddamn dishes. Understand?”

Naruto was silent again. Sasuke didn’t usually talk that much; he just wanted to make sure his friend was finished, really. It had nothing to do with watching his eye twitch some more.

When Sasuke began to reach for what Naruto could only assume was a concealed weapon (or, considering the situation, a frying pan with which to beat him over the head), the blond decided that maybe it was time to give in. He gave his trademark blinding smile, knowing he looked big, dumb, and adorable all at once, and said, “Let’s wash ‘em together.”

Sasuke stared. Then he blinked. Then somehow found himself standing in front of the sink next to Naruto, sleeves pushed up to his armpits, elbow-deep in soapy water.

He felt that a mental breakdown was in order, honestly. How did these things keep happening to him? How did he go from defeating a sannin and Uchiha Itachi to acquiescing to the desires of a stupid, blond -- “--What the hell are you doing?”

Naruto didn’t even pause in his dish-washing, his hand brushing against Sasuke’s underneath the water even as he appeared extremely focused on the dishes. Sasuke firmly told himself that it wasn’t at all enjoyable, their fingers all pruney from cheap dish soap and too much time spent in the water.

“I don’t know,” the blond answered cheerfully, glancing over at Sasuke with a grin that was a bit too suggestive. “You tell me.”

Sasuke left Naruto alone at the sink, grabbing a towel to dry his hands off on his way out of the kitchen. This was never going to work. Not with Naruto looking at him that way, not with a forehead protector not-so-proudly bearing the Konoha emblem stuffed into the bottom of his friend’s traveling bag, and not with so much time on their hands and nothing to distract them but each other.

Naruto had barely noticed Sasuke moving away from the sink before he was watching spiky black hair disappear through the doorway. Hurt blue eyes lingered there for a moment before turning back to the sink and widening.

“Hey! Bastard, the dishes aren’t finished yet!”