Then There Were Two

Oneshot


A/N: I just have too much fun with this sort of thing...I just couldn't help it ;)

AMERICAN IDOL

They’d been rivals from the very beginning. Sasuke and Naruto had sat in line near each other in San Francisco, and Sasuke had told him to shut the hell up while he was explaining to his father that yes, he had run away to California, and no, Itachi certainly didn’t need any help running the company. His father had snapped something and Sasuke had hissed back. So while the blonde was chatting aimlessly on his economy cellphone Sasuke sat across from him staring at his own Blackberry dumbly and wondering how on earth he had managed to get himself disowned over a little competition. Sasuke, normally a cool and collected young man, had told the scruffy looking kid in front of him to shut the fuck up or he’d punch him in the neck.

Luckily the cameras had been pointed elsewhere.

At the time Naruto had wisely snapped his trap shut, but for the next crucial weeks Sasuke wasn’t quite so lucky. Naruto didn’t shut his mouth once after he made it out of final auditions, and sometimes when he opened that big blabbermouth and put it to some real use Sasuke could see the judges sneak little glances at each other with raised eyebrows and shrewd, narrowed eyes that made Sasuke wish he had paid a little more attention in choir.

As usual, America ignored the opinions of skilled professionals and the mindless herds liked Sasuke better. Fans in the audience held up endless waves of posters and banners until Sasuke could read the sea of adoration and know that he pretty much had #1 in the bag. The girls loved his face; the boys admired his aloofness, so when Simon said that Sasuke was a soulless automaton that made technical perfection almost obscene, Sasuke just waved it off with a smirk. None of the other contestants had hoards of mindless fans begging for autographs. He wasn’t worried.

But that was before they hit top eight and Naruto ruined his chances of effortlessly decimating the competition.

First off, he had sung some stupid ballad the night before that had made half the audience tear up and sigh. Even Sasuke had trouble not staring at him when he finally sauntered backstage, smiling widely but looking a little broken and sad. That had been enough to grab viewers’ attention in itself, but the next night had truly been the hardest blow.

The media had finally taken notice. Apparently Naruto Uzumaki wasn’t just some scruffy seventeen year old, he was a scruffy seventeen year old with a *tragic past*. Sasuke had sat in his seat and watched in horror as Ryan took America through a tour of Lady Madonna’s home for Orphaned Children and realized that he finally had competition.
America couldn’t very well vote off a saint, now could they?

Sasuke felt his chances sinking with every little dirty face they trotted out on the screen adorably begged the audience to vote for their nii-san because the orphanage could really use the money, and after losing both his parents to a fire, living on the street for five years, and finally languishing, unwanted, in the orphanage, Naruto could really use the break. When Sasuke had finally dropped his head in sheer frustration he saw Simon smirking up at him from the judges table while the sadistic man took obvious pleasure in Sasuke’s predicament. The poor little rich boy card couldn’t hold up to Naruto’s dead parents, the English boarding school accent wasn’t as impressive when Naruto started to blabber in sudden Japanese as his ‘family’ appeared on the stage, and ‘aloof’ was quickly turning into ‘arrogant’ in the teary gaze of the general public.

And then, when Ryan asked, Naruto had said, “I didn’t… I don’t want to be another sob story.”

At that moment, under the garish lights of the auditorium, Naruto had suddenly seemed shining and clean, gorgeous and wide-eyed as his conviction enveloped the viewers and invited them into his heart. His energy was suddenly appealing, his stupidly-goofy smile was adorable, and Sasuke looked down at him and wanted…he didn’t know what he wanted; maybe to take back all those hushed insults and sneers, maybe to throttle the living daylights out of the blonde, maybe just to be closer as he marveled with the rest of the country at the boy who could still be so unsoiled after clawing his way out of the LA gutters.

Then time was up and Ino was voted off and the whole group was carted away to start the whole week over again, and while Sasuke was moping in the limo his phone rang. The call was from Japan so he hit speakerphone on habit. None of his friends could speak a decent word of English, and the family never bothered. It was his brother, and his message sent chills down Sasuke’s spine.

“Beat Uzumaki and you can come back home.”

The rest of the limo was staring at him in quiet curiosity, but Naruto had turned slowly from his conversation with the driver and whispered, “Sasuke…what the fuck?”
Sasuke’s heart dropped into his stomach and they both stared at each other in shock as Sasuke’s sluggish brain reminded him that Naruto could, in fact, speak his native language.

“I…” Sasuke ran a hand through his hair and stared into wide blue eyes, “Shit.”

Once again Itachi had managed to fuck up Sasuke’s life in a new and interesting way.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Naruto asked, looking miserable and disappointed. Sasuke had just stared back down at his phone, wishing a thousand fiery deaths on the males of his family, and whispered, “I guess so.”

The next week Sasuke was in the bottom two, sweating it out after a particularly bad rendition of some Latin song he couldn’t be arsed to remember even fifteen minutes past the event. The last week had been hellish, so when Ryan said, “You know, I’m a little surprised to see you down here,” Sasuke snorted and replied, “I’m not.”

Still, he made it out of the bottom two, trudging back to his seat where he collapsed and pointedly ignored Paula’s syrupy concerned look and Simon’s satisfied sprawl.
When they got back to the limo Sasuke’s phone rang and he didn’t answer it, and not just because Naruto was staring at him with narrowed eyes. Still, it kept ringing and ringing until Naruto finally just leaned forward and took the thing out of his pocket.

“Moshi moshi.” His voice was pleasant but his eyes were hard, and pretty much everyone in the vehicle could hear the long silence on the other end of the line. They all knew something was going on. It was hard to keep a secret in a cramped house, and Sasuke’s little fits of anger didn’t help. When before he had been perfectly calm through the stress of performing Sasuke was now known for throwing furniture around and pushing unsuspecting cameramen into the pool.

“I’d like to speak with Sasuke.” Itachi’s voice was strong and clear over the speaker. “Now.”

“Hmm.” Naruto’s slouch was audible in his tone, “No. I don’t think so.”

“Hand the phone to my brother.” Itachi repeated in English, “We have important family business to discuss.”

Naruto raised an eyebrow at him and Sasuke bit his bottom lip, shaking his head slowly. Naruto smiled.

“Sasuke’s already with his family.” He said, smirking into the receiver. “But feel free to vote for him as many times as you like. Uzumaki out!”

Sasuke’s hands were shaking when he took the phone back, but he was smiling, couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the look on his brother’s face.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

“Yup,” Naruto crossed his arms behind his head and grinned, wide and bright, “You better get used to it, Sasuke, ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere soon. So getcher act together or I’ll punch you in the neck.”

Sasuke laughed for the first time in what felt like ages; amused and overjoyed and grateful beyond measure as they both pushed and shoved each other like grade-schoolers, rocking the limo until they had to come to a stop at the side of the freeway. There was yelling and singing and food fights, and after every performance the whole group got together and burned pictures of Simon’s face because they could and because it was hilarious to watch the producers argue over whether or not the display made ‘good TV’. They sang and sang and sang, and when it finally clicked like it was supposed to Sasuke looked out at the audience and saw more than signs and potential votes, he saw his own life reflected back at him in the eyes of hundreds. He connected with them, and suddenly the world was a little smaller, and he wasn’t quite so alone.

He learned to love the applause, the praise, because it was something he worked his ass off to attain, and decided that if Itachi felt half as pleased when he achieved some sort of hostile takeover then Sasuke couldn’t quite fault his devotion to the family business.

And then there were two.

They dressed Naruto up in slim, worn jeans and a loose white cotton button-down that made his hair look like spun gold. Naruto looked very disheveled and very handsome, just like he had on that first day, except with the certain polish only Hollywood could adequately supply. From his own spot in the dressing room Sasuke watched Naruto pace and sit, pace and sit, until he really just couldn’t take it any more, leaned over and pulled him down to the couch.

“I want you to win.” Naruto whispered. “I think you’ll win.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“No, really.” Naruto was shaking with nerves. “You deserve it, Sasuke, they really love you-”

Sasuke kissed him.

“Shut up.” He whispered. “Just shut up.”

Because if anyone deserved to be loved it was Naruto. Sasuke had found what he was looking for after weeks and weeks of searching and it was sitting on his lap, ruining the hairdo the stylists had spent nearly an hour perfecting. All the hard work seemed to culminate in the slick slide of lips and the drag of cotton between them. The embrace wasn’t exactly spur of the moment, maybe Sasuke had looked a little too long one too many times and Naruto had definitely been looking back…but at the time all the cameras had made it difficult to push the blonde against the wall and latch on to his long, tanned neck.

“Don’t you dare give me a hickey.” Naruto laughed and Sasuke felt the vibration on his lips. “God…okay, um. So how about this?”

Sasuke tilted his head up and Naruto touched his face in light strokes, his blue eyes huge and soft as they stared at each other.

“Hm.” Naruto kissed him softly, and murmured. “If you win, you can help me revamp the orphanage with some sort of charity concert or something, and if I win-” Naruto kissed him again, long and slow with his hands cupping Sasuke’s face. “-you can crash on my couch until you get a record deal.”

“Just your couch?” Sasuke laughed and bit at his jaw gently. “And what if I never get a record deal?”

Naruto laughed in return, his whole body shaking in heady chuckles as the stress left an odd euphoria in its wake.

“Well…I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to get sung to sleep.”

Sasuke wrapped his arms around Naruto, clutched him close, and whispered, “I think I can manage that.”

After all, when Sasuke stepped out on that stage under the glaring lights and the countless viewers, well… he’d only been planning on singing for Naruto anyways.


THE END


Tadaa!If I get enough feedback I might add another oneshot...so tell me if you like it :) or I'll spend my time on something else...like the four other stories I already have going...LOL