Arranged Marriage

Warning: Badly written un-beta’d crack. Do not take the following content to seriously. Flames are discouraged.


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The wedding hadn’t been much at all.

Just a gathering of mutual family members, Namikaze-Uzumaki’s on one side, Uchiha’s on the other. All gathered and squashed in the confines of a small wedding hall adajecnt to the shrine where the ceremony took place.

Sasuke had tried not to appear surly as he sat, alone at the newlywed’s table, a foot above everyone else on full display. Not looking miserable was a feat considering that he was now forcibly being married to a failure of a man, and doomed to now bear the name: Sasuke Uchiha-Namikaze-Uzumaki.

Uzumaki Naruto (he never liked using the hyphen), a blond haired, blue eyed twenty-three year old (of questionably Asian blood) was his new husband. A five foot seven inch, baby faced, obnoxiously loud mouthed thing that only came up to Sasuke nose.

A so called aristocrats son, though Sasuke honestly believed no self respecting member of the aristocracy would be caught wearing that shade of orange in public. Unless he was one of the ‘eccentric’ types. Or retarded.

Sasuke leaned more toward retarded as his reason.

His husband, (and oh, how he loathed the man as much as the word) was currently chucking it up with a girl from his side of party. A pink haired thing, Sakura they called her (how common) laughed alongside him. They were dancing fervently to a slow song in the center of the dance floor, limbs flailing. Dancing was something Sasuke refused to indulge in because one; he did not wish to look like an idiot in public and two; marriage was too solemn an occasion to enjoy ones self.

Sasuke didn’t even know why there was dancing at all; he specifically said no to it when planning the wedding. He hadn’t even wanted any slow dances; it was a Japanese wedding with a Japanese theme. This included the strict prohibiting of all things karaoke.

Naruto must have pulled some strings, called a DJ in last minute after Sasuke made the arrangements and snuck him into the party. Naruto was already defying him. The basterd

Sasuke looked away in pain when Naruto gyrated his hips in a way that defied all physical laws and hastily turned his attention to the Uchiha half of the party.

They played their parts well. Even the children sat stony faced and disapproving from their respectable places, flashing disgruntled glares at their uproarious new in-laws.

Naruto’s grandparents were already drunk and causing must of the uproar. The grandfather, Jiraiya, (or Pervert by most) was telling a very loud, very bawdy retelling of a true story, involving a woman he’d met in America (before he married Tsunade at the business end of a shotgun) and her creative use of a sock. All while chugging his fifth bottle of sake, as his wife, Tsunade, glared at him over her breasts surrounded by her own mess of empty sake bottles.

At a long rectangular table, a full four feet above everyone else, the council surveyed all this with disdain. ‘The Elders’ (as they were called, because they were old as hell) of both clans; the Uzumaki’s, Namikaze’s, and Uchiha’s, could barely contain their triumph. Now almost all of the most influential clans in Konoha were joined together through marriage. All except one of course: those damn, snooty Hyuuga’s.

His father, Fugaku, the formidable form in the far corner just below the council table, was what appeared to be a pleasurable enough conversation with his newest business partner: Minato Namikaze, an older and by far better looking replica of his son, who happened to be the leading Councilman in Konoha City.

And the unfortunate recipient of Fugaku’s man-crush. Fugaku had looking for a chance, any chance to make a deal with the Namikaze’s since he’d taken over the family business some thirty years before.

The Namikazi’s were so influential in Konoha politics, that with Minato at his side, Fugaku was sure to climb the political ladder in no time. That was his and the councils plan, and they made no effort in hiding it.

Fugaku was all proud father and gracious host as he poured the other man yet another glass of champagne. He never showed so much interest in any single person since the bottom fell out of the ‘Itachi plan’ years before. Something horrible was bound to come from his eagerness to please the other man, something embarrassing hopefully. Like a snub.

The thought of his father being snubbed made Sasuke exceedingly happy.

What made Sasuke smirk at his fathers expense however, was that, though Minato-san indulged in polite conversation with Fugaku, his main focus was on his son on the dance floor. Naruto at that point had switched partners and was in the middle of twirling the poor girl around in the air by the waist.

Minato watched them with a whimsical little smile that Sasuke had to bring himself to look away from.

A good half of the party cringed when she shrieked that everybody could see up her skirt. Sasuke scoffed; she shouldn’t have worn a cocktail dress to a wedding, if she didn’t want people to see her panties. He scoffed again when that same girl began to beat Naruto over the head with a stiletto for embarrassing her.

Sasuke looked down at his steak knife, wondering if it was sufficiently sharp enough to take his own life with. Or, more preferably, someone else’s.

“You shouldn’t look so happy, baby brother, you could strain something.” Came the silky voice of none other than Sasuke's criminally insane only sibling.

Itachi had slid into Naruto’s unoccupied seat beside Sasuke, and leaned in an inch from Sasuke ear to whisper his words so softly that a shiver ran down Sasuke’s spine.

Sasuke grit his teeth. It was all to unerve him, he knew it. Itachi knew he hated to be touched.

“What do you want from me, Itachi?” Sasuke gripped, and caste a wary eye over the party. Hoping no one payed too close attention to him at that moment. Itachi rested his chin on Sasuke's stiff shoulder, as he still hadn't backed away.

“The usual. But I’ll set that aside for the occasion and wish you my congratulations.” the older man said in the same smokey tone, his lips brushing Sasuke’s jaw before he pulled away slowly. Itachi leaned back in his chair casually, surveying the dance floor with vague interest.

Sasuke tilted his head thoughtfully.

“You must be absolutely euphoric right now. Watching me wallow in my own self pity as my new husband,” he cast a brief disdainful look toward the dance floor where his husband had switched partners, again. “disgraces are now conjoined family names. This ought to give you great wanking material for later on tonight.”

Itachi turned his eyes to his brother with a sardonic little smirk. “What sort of person would I be if I got off on your misfortune?”

“You would be Itachi Uchiha.” Sasuke replied dryly.

An eerie twinkle had come into Itachi’s eyes as he stared at Sasuke unblinkingly. The others mouth curled, like wanted to say something more but smothered it with a smirk instead. Suddenly, Itachi leaned forward and kissed him shortly, placed a white and crimson envelope in his hand, thick with bills and stood.

“You should try being more optimistic, baby brother.” Itachi said, staring down at Sasuke sagely, making Sasuke want to stab him just once with the steak knife. “considering your chosen husband could be much worse.”

Itachi then gave Sasuke a small nod before striding off purposely, ignoring whomever had decided to call his name as he passed as left the hall with a graceful air befitting any Uchiha.

Sasuke gnawed on his still tingling bottom lip and let himself consider Itachi's words. He supposed he could count himself as lucky. His current spouse could me much worse, when his others suitors were put into consideration. The way Sasuke figured, he would rather be with a multibillion dollar pain in the ass, than an equally valuable self rightous, fate spouting, poofter (Neji Hyuuga was the bane of his existence, the epitome of all things insufferable in Sasuke book). He'd rather choke himself with a licorice stick than be married to Neji Hyuuga.

Yes, Sasuke conceded, as Naruto’s laugh echoed from across the hall, his spouse could have been so much worse.


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After the initial uproar of the kekkon hiroen died down the party began to die down, guests filed in an orderly manner to hand over their expected Shugi-Bukuro to the receptionist, along with a few unexpected western style wedding gifts.

Sasuke eyebrow ticked; yet another of Naruto’s last minute add-in’s.

What on earth did they need two mixers for? Who asked them to buy them a mixer? Sasuke was left to seethe in silence as the newlyweds were whisked into a limo and rushed to the hotel for their wedding night.


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Haruno Hotels provided the newlywed suite, free of charge, for the much anticipated (for who, Sasuke wasn’t sure) wedding night. The consummation of their union.

They had to lock and bolt the door behind them to keep the elders from standing over the bed and watching to make sure they went though with it.

Their union was imperative to the future of Uchiha Corp., the elders had made it quite clear, so much so that Sasuke was quick to realize that it was far more important to the Uchiha’s than the Namikaze-Uzumaki’s. This meant the hopes and future of Uchiha corp. were riding on Sasuke in the most literal sense.

With that burden, among others Sasuke set about his wedding night with a rising trepidation.

Naruto stared at Sasuke’s reflection in the suites lavish floor to ceiling windows, with his own rising trepidation. Now that he was alone with Sasuke, Naruto realized that nothing after the required ‘I do’s’ had been spoken between them.

Nervously, Naruto glanced at the back of Sasuke’s head, the view he’d been subject to from the moment the elders escorted them into the suit. Sasuke sat rigid as a corpse, his back purposely turned to the other man and staring with great interest at the carpet.

“Feels kind of weird being here, huh?” Naruto laughed nervously, paying avid attention to the way the street light below flickered outside of their suite window. Sasuke, driven by some unknown masochistic force, turned to Naruto almost thoughtfully.

“How so, Uzumaki-san?” Sasuke said as placating as he had ever heard his mother speak to his father. Naruto shoot him a brief heated look.

“My name’s Naruto.”

“Yes, I know. Would you be so kind as to answer my question?” Naruto bounced from heel to toe, looking very shy, his hands shoved in the pockets of his disheveled tuxedo.

The fool had insisted on a western tuxedo even though the whole ceremony had been conducted to a traditional Japanese theme. He’d been even more of an eyesore than usual in an all black tux with matching orange handkerchief and tie beside Sasuke’s elaborate montsuki haori hakama.

The petulant desire to kidney punch the man boiled to the surface once more.

“This consummating,” Naruto waved a hand at the massive four poster bed. “business. After everyone made such a huge deal about it. Kind of takes the romance out of things.”

“Are trying to tell me that you can’t perform under pressure, Uzumaki-san?” Sasuke inquired softly, trying to seem as innocently befuddled as possible. His smirk belying his sardonic intent. He knew his comment hit the mark when Naruto sputtered so hard he’d forget to demand Sasuke call him ‘Naruto’.

“What?!” Sasuke stood briskly, walking over to the low coffee table in front of the luxurious leather sofa, one of many accommodations offered in their suite, and poured a glass of cold water from a convenient pitcher.

He offered it to his floundering husband, preying he did not choke because given Sasuke’s obvious hostility toward him, the Namikaze’s would be quick to jump on accusations of murder, and that simply would not do.

“The consummation does not have to be tonight, Uzumaki-san. We could wait until tomorrow perhaps, when the pressure isn’t so great and you’ll find yourself more able to perform.” Sasuke smirk grew at the way Naruto’s eyes bulged from their sockets.

Sasuke offered the glass of water obligingly, making sure their fingers did not graze as Naruto made a hasty grab for it.

“I can perform just fine, thank you!” Naruto croaked after he regained his bearings, than blushed furiously when Sasuke raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh. I’m sure you can.” Sasuke murmured salaciously, dropping his voice a few octaves smoothly, just to see Naruto choke some more.

“But I wouldn’t dare put anymore more pressure on you.” Sasuke then scrunched his brow pseudo-sympathetically and refilled Naruto’s cup.

Naruto glared so hard at Sasuke, he almost felt singed by it.

He smiled serenely nonetheless: “Shall we get ready for bed then?”

Naruto was quickly at a loss for words again. Carefully, Sasuke took the glass from him and placed neatly atop the try from which it came beside the pitcher and strolled toward one of the adjoining bathrooms.

Wholeheartedly believing Naruto would not follow.

After an hour long shower, which Naruto finds completely unreasonable since Sasuke is so small, and surely it doesn’t take an hour to wash a body that lanky, Sasuke emerged squeaky clean and in a long kimono bathrobe.

Naruto rolled his eyes at him as he passed; of course Sasuke would stick to the Japanese theme, and gathered his toiletries for his own much shorter shower. How anyone could remain so formal in stiff pajamas like Sasuke in bed was ridicules, Naruto thought.

He, unlike Sasuke, wore a worn pair of trackies and a shirt, which he wore more for his comfort than Sasuke’s. Naruto wasn’t feeling particularly up to being in the nude beside Sasuke that night. Heaven only knows what the other might decided to hack off in the dead of night.

Without bothering to ask which side Sasuke might have wanted, Naruto plunked onto the bed with overdone exaggeration.

Sasuke hesitated as he climbed into bed, and turned to face Naruto. “Once again we don’t have to anything you’re not comfortable with Uzum-.” he hastily corrected himself at the threat of Naruto opening his mouth.

“Naruto.” Sasuke turned his back to him hastily, realizing that he would sooner go back to the licorice stick scenario than willing allow himself to be touched by that imbecile.

If Sasuke were to be honest with himself, which he rarely was, he’d admit that intimacy sickened him beyond redemption. In fact, most things sickened him. Intimacy just happened to be among the worst of them.

He’d rather be alone, free to make his own decisions, like in his dream of becoming completely autonomous. He didn’t want to share his life with another human being, whom he knew very little about other than his wedding cake preference. Sasuke didn’t understand why he couldn’t’ just have a cat.

Cats were nice. A bit snooty, but all the meant was they‘d get along perfectly with each.

But no, humans can’t breed with cats, (unless one happened to be into bestiality, which Sasuke defiantly wasn't) and the council had thought a union between Namikaze-Uzumkai and Uchiha would be endlessly beneficial. Especially at a time when Fugaku had decided to pursue a political career. And though Sasuke did want to help his father in anyway he could he did believe the council could have done better than Naruto.

Frankly, in Sasuke’s opinion being married to Naruto was along the same vein as bestially anyway.

Sighing, Sasuke reached over to the bedside stand to turn off the light before burrowing under the covers. Naruto did the same; twisting and turning for several moments on his end, grumbling as he tried to find a comfortable position much to Sasuke’s mounting irritation. When he did find one he sighed and settled in, luckily for him because Sasuke had been a heartbeat from bashing his head in with a lamp.

“Good night Sasuke.” the other man whispered, sounding almost human and much less annoying than he had the entire day. Sasuke waited an entire minute before replying.

“Good night, Naruto.”


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Note: I’m a comma whore, but can you blame me? There so addictive. I just love putting coma’s everywhere, it makes me happy. Don’t expect me to be constant with this or anything, it just some crack I wrote to entertain myself while I tried to come up with the next Chapter of Café Loki.

I wouldn’t hold my breath though guys, its slow coming. So enjoy the crack, it could be all you see for a while.

Shugi-Bukuro: envelopes of money customarily given to the receptionist at the end of the kekkon hiroen as gifts to the newlyweds. It’s preferred that guests use pretty, unwrinkled bills for the occasion.

Montsuki haori hakama: traditional wedding robe worn by the groom, and since Sasuke isn’t a girl he would not be wearing a kimono to his wedding.

Kekkon hiroen: The wedding reception conducted in whatever way the newlyweds religions happened to be at either a shrine, wedding hall, or church