He Don't Want A Man

"He Don't Want A Man"
By: Camui

Pairing: NaruSasu
Song: "She Don't Want A Man" by Asher Roth. I do not own this song and have changed a few words to the lyrics to make it fit.
Disclaimer: The characters of Naruto belong to Masashi Kishimoto. Music belongs to the artists. Concept is my own.
Warnings: Slight Sakura-bashing. Come on, who doesn't want to see her as the fat ugly friend? I know, I'm psychic. But Kiba likes big beautiful women (at least, for this fic).

Summary: He don't want a man; he just wants to dance. Too bad Naruto is persistent, and doesn't seem to know the meaning of 'no'. But, persistence usually pays off in the end. Don't spill your pineapples, lover.

One-shot. AU.

NSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"He don't want a man. He just wants to dance."

The bartender's warning rang through my head, but I'm not likely to follow his advice. I mean, come on! Somebody that hot is just begging for attention. And I'm just the guy to give it to him.

I'm nowhere near quiet at all; I'm confident, and pretty sure that I'm the shit. At least, that's how people view me, and what they've told me, so they've gotta be right, right? But this guy has been ignoring me all night long, despite the suggestive looks and even a few catcalls I've sent out towards him. I lean against the bar counter and sip on my drink - pineapple mixed with Patron - and watch the raven-haired beauty closely.

For a moment his body swivels and he turns around, his eyes opening to land on my own, and a jolt raced up my spine and made my brain melt. Fuck, just that one saucy look made it feel like he just fucked me raw, and I'm left slightly dizzy as he seems to not notice me and return to dancing. He's wearing a pair of tight jeans that hug his slender hips and round ass perfectly, a tank top stretched over his slender but delectable chest. His pale skin was glowing with all of the reflective colors and his feet were adorned with boots that have a slight heel - even so, he seemed a bit on the short side. Shorter than me, anyhow. Whenever his lips would part to take a swig of his water, perfect white, straight teeth were visible and I melt just a bit more with that action of his tongue gliding over his lips to gather the extra moisture.

Once more his eyes flicker over towards me, this time on purpose, and I feel my groin tighten.

"Maybe he's starting to like me?" I wonder aloud, and my friend Kiba merely snorts into his drink.

"Unlikely, dude."

Maybe next week the beautiful raven will have changed his opinion of me.

NSNSNSNSNSNSN

The following week found myself and my best friend, Kiba, who was currently chatting up the bartender about sports, back at the bar. The exotic man is still on the dance floor dancing, where he is every Friday night, and I feel my mouth water slightly as he raises his hands above his head and his shirt slides up a bit to reveal a smooth, hard looking stomach. I notice that this time he has a friend with him; a slightly chubby pink-haired girl, and I turn to Kiba.

"Can you take his fat friend?" I ask, and Kiba grins wolfishly as he nods.

"Hell yeah, I'll be your wing man."

I set my drink down on the bar and stalk towards the dance floor; instantly I feel the thrum of the music in my bones and I can't help but sway a bit, my head nodding slightly to the beat. Blond locks are shaggy and brush in front of my eyes a bit, but I brush them away as I approach the dancing siren. Kiba is close behind me and dancing a bit as well; a two-step here, a sway of our bodies there. The crowd was parting for us; girls and some daring guys were reaching out and asking us to dance, but I had a mission, and right now my mission was the mysterious man that seemed so impervious to my amazing charm.

What? That's not ego, that's just the truth.

A quick hand to my mouth checked my breath - minty fresh. I make sure there aren't any sweat stains on my body as casually as I can without pulling my shirt away from my chest and examining it thoroughly, but the dryness my fingers encounters is good enough for me. My Adidas cologne helps, too. I know I'm looking good in black jeans slung low on my hips and a red v-neck tee; I mean, fuck, I would do me in a heartbeat.

But that's beside the point.

He hasn't noticed us yet, so I move up behind him and gently put my hands on his hips, swaying with his movements. Fuck, he feels so good under my fingertips, his hipbones sharp and sexy and his skin smooth and flawless. His body stiffens and he turns around, his pretty features twisted into a scowl that only looks really, really fucking sexy. If looks could kill... I would gladly be six feet under right now. Charcoal eyes are narrowed and dangerous looking, outlined in kohl to make them appear smoky, and once again I feel my breath hitch and my groin tighten.

"Ain't lookin' for a man," he says, loudly, over the music. Obviously he doesn't want to lean close to talk to me, so he's resorted to shouting as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I really just came to dance."

I raise a brow and give him a slightly incredulous look, as if to say 'it's not like I'm trying to get into your pants' or something, but we both know that's a lie. He's the first to break the facade and roll his eyes, deciding to go along with my expression.

"I'm not looking for romance. I really just want to dance." His hands lift and press on my chest, and for a brief second I relish in the heat of his palms seeping through my shirt. But in the next instant I'm being shoved away, and in order to stop that from happening my own hands lift to grasp his, and for a second I'm marveled at the stark contrast of his alabaster flesh against my own honeyed-tan.

"You can't turn me down so coldly," I say, smirking lightly. "I'm the only person to actually come up to you and dance."

I can practically see the feathers ruffling as he huffs, obviously seeing the truth in my statement. Most everyone else just watched him dance and didn't even bother approaching him, knowing they'd be shot down. He steps away from me and rips his hands away, folding them over his chest once again, this time a bit tighter as if shielding himself from something. He seems almost contemplative, before he huffs and stomps off, leaving myself, Kiba and the pink-haired friend on the floor. Well... Kiba and the girl didn't notice, they were too busy grinding. Fuck, Kiba was a horny bastard and would take anything that would spread their legs for him. Apparently this girl was one of those poor suckers.

Letting out a slightly frustrated breath, I follow after the raven-haired beauty. I'm not letting him get away - he spoke to me. He never even talks to the bartender; just motions at the water, pays, then leaves. I know I've already breached some of the defenses he's put up and I'm about to keep knocking them down until I'm allowed a chance with the ravenous succubus.

I spot him hovering in a corner by a tall table, water bottle up to his lips as he takes a few swallows of the savory liquid; my eyes are drawn to his throat, which was contracting as it swallowed, and in turn I felt my own throat constricting. Fuck, how can someone be so fucking gorgeous and completely unaware of what they do to people?! Why the fuck does it have to be an anti-social asshole? He sets the bottle down as I approach, his eyes flickering over my form and that scowl reappearing on those perfectly kissable lips. I only smile cheekily in return and that seems to deepen his anger, as he turns to walk away.

Before I know it, my hand shoots out to grasp his delicate wrist, halting him in his movements. Apparently he doesn't like people touching him; every time someone so much as brushes against him he freezes up and tries to get as far away as possible.

That's gonna have to change.

He turns around, livid, nearly hissing as he speaks to me. "Cool the fuck down, I'm way too fucking hot for this." As he says this I see a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face, and I can't help but agree.

However, my mouth has other thoughts as I tug him closer to me.

"You need to cool out, 'cause you're not that hot."

"... What?"

He pauses and blinks at me, half insulted, half confused. Me, God, I'm kinda confused too. What the fuck, mouth, shut up! Just let my brains do the talking for once, for Christ's sake. Quit getting me into trouble with potential bedmates!

I cover it up by retracting my hand and placing it behind my head, ruffling my blond hair and chuckling, slightly awkward. "I'm just playing," I say, shrugging. "Just hating a bit. I know you're way too hot." My eyes rake up and down his body, and I don't even try to hide it. "Most definitely."

A blush creeps up his cheeks and his eyes glitter with rage, his fists clenching at his side. "I just want to dance! I don't want a fucking man grinding up on me!"

"Then let's do something other than dance," I say smoothly, taking a step forward. He seems to shut his mouth, then, and before I can get any closer he swiftly turns on his heel and disappears out of the club.

Ah, there's always next week.

NSNSNSNSNSNSN

Once again I find myself at the bar, and I can't find the raven-haired seducer for the life of me. I scan the floor countless times, my eyes occasionally landing on Kiba and that pink-haired girl, wondering if the guy finally realized that the only reason I come to this stupid bar in the first place is to be around him. Maybe he was at another bar, even?

Fuck, I've scared him away. Letting out a sigh, I sip on my pineapple and patron mix, swiveling slightly on the stool that I'm seated on. I've picked a tall table that's a ways away from the crowd, in a place where I have the perfect vantage point to see the entirety of everywhere, and everyone. But that sleek, inky black hair, pale skin and alluring eyes weren't anywhere. Guess the guy really didn't want a man; guess he really did just want to dance. That thought slightly depressed me, though for reasons I'm not too sure of.

Is it because I really wanted this guy? I haven't actively pursued anyone with such vigor; usually people gave in to me with the first smile and charming words thrown their way. I'm not kidding when I say I know I'm the shit - I know I'm desired. I'm not fucking blind. But I kinda wish I was, because then I never would have saw the object of my desires dancing so tantalizingly.

Oh God, I'm such a fucking sap. Jesus Christ.

Groaning, I thunk my head down on the table, then turn it to the side to let the cold steel seep into my flushed cheek. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow move, and my eyes instantly were drawn to it. Hips swayed erotically to the music, pale hands were in the air, and I let a smile break out on to my features.

So I haven't scared him away.

Only, he wasn't on the dance floor. He was standing by a table like mine a few meters away, and his eyes cracked open to gaze heatedly at me. The heat went straight to my groin and my heart hammered in my chest, and I was standing up and walking over to him like a moth drawn to that dangerous flame. His fire licks at my skin the closer I get, and as soon as I'm within arm's reach, I stop. He raises a slender brow as he continues to dance in front of me, and I'm torn between grabbing his hips and dancing with him, and making a snide remark.

He beats me to the punch.

"Are you really that dense, moron?" He asks, his hands dropping to his side as he stops his movement and places a hand on a narrow hip, his expression entirely condescending and slightly disappointed.

"Whu-?" I manage, blinking in confusion as he steps forward and runs his hands down my chest, moving closer so his lips are by my ears to where I can hear him perfectly.

"For three weeks straight you've done nothing but fight for my attention, and now that you have it you don't know what to do with it?" He chuckled, the sound sinister, low, and fucking hot as he traveled into my ear drums and sent thrills of pleasure down my spine.

"I have your attention?" I echo, not quite sure what he means by that. What was he getting at? Last week he fled like a bat out of hell when I approached him, but now he was acting completely different. Was this the siren that I've been watching get lost in the music, throwing aside his inhibitions?

"All of it," he says, and I feel his slick tongue on the shell of my ear.

I let out a low growl and take him by the hips, shoving him back into a dark corner. He lets out a slightly surprised sound as I push him against the wall, pressing and melding our bodies together, my lips crashing against his. They're just as soft as I anticipated, and taste just as deadly. Fuck, if I drink in too much of his taste, I'd probably get fucking plastered. But I don't care as his hands tangle in my hair, his breath coming out in hot puffs against my lips every time we pull apart. I can feel my body thrumming with the sensation - the bass vibrating the wall behind Sasuke's body, the feel of his flesh against mine. His hands drop to my pants and I feel them working on the button and fumbling with the material slightly; my owns hands move to his pants and soon our kiss turns slightly feral, more teeth connecting than lips, more tongue clashing than caressing. Soon I feel my erection spring free, his delightfully evil hands stroking the heated flesh and bringing it to full attention, a purr rumbling in the back of my throat.

My mouth leaves his and I raise a hand to tangle in inky locks and forcefully tilt his head to the side, licking and biting at the exposed flesh. He moans like a wanton whore beneath me, and fuck, it's just about the hottest thing I've ever heard in my entire life. I pull his pants down his hips, pushing them to his thighs as I lift him from the floor. I don't want to strip ourselves completely of any article of clothing - the prospect of getting caught was in the back of my mind, and I wanted to be able to make a quick recovery. He's flexible, though, and his legs easily lift even while still within the confines of his jeans. He's nearly folded in half but he doesn't seem to mind, as I grip the base of my erection and rub it against his entrance teasingly. I can feel his hole quivering against my hot flesh, and I quickly spit into my hand and jerk myself a few times before I shove my fingers into his mouth.

His hot mouth and tongue lavish my fingers as if they were the most delicious thing on the planet, his eyes hooding as he lets out a moan around the digits. His body is flushed and I can barely see him in this dark corner, but his eyes are shimmering with unbridled lust and I know my own blue eyes are mirroring his exactly. I pull my fingers from his mouth and shove my index finger into him roughly; I almost apologized, but when he keened and arched his back, letting out a pleasured cry, I decided to forgo apologies and work on stretching him. I managed to get two fingers inside, but that was it as he started wriggling and panting.

"Fuck, just fucking do it already, idiot!"

I gotta admit, I kinda like the verbal abuse. He's about to take it up the ass but is still in control of what's happening.

I've never been so turned on in my life.

Removing my fingers I steadied his hips, keeping him pressed between the wall and myself as I guide my cock to his entrance. A tremor wracks his frame and the head of my dick slips in before either of us were ready for it, a hiss of pleasure escaping me and a low, ragged moan leaving his mouth. I can't take the tight heat around just the tip, so I slam in all of the way with no warning. He lets out a cry and I quickly shove my knuckles in his mouth, not wanting to attract too much attention. His sharp incisors bite down on my skin and I know he's drawing blood, but fuck everything about this guy is just turning me on, making me soar to all new heights. I quickly start up a pace, my hips pistoning sharply, and soon enough his own hips were rolling against my body, his torso undulating between my chest and the wall as he seemed to continue to be dancing to the music even with my cock fucking him raw.

"Nh- ah- hn!"

Noises were escaping his lips around my knuckles, saliva and blood dripping down his chin and my fingers as his eyes glazed over with the intense pleasure rushing through his body. His body was starting to clench around me, sending jolts of electricity singing through my blood, and I pick up my pace as I feel he's nearing his end. Pretty soon his body tenses and stiffens completely, his eyes closing as his mouth releases my hand, his head clunking against the wall without a care, a low moan leaving his mouth as his bones tremble and shudder against me. The heat in my own groin becomes unbearable and I feel my balls tightening, orgasm starting in my toes by numbing them completely, then washing through the rest of my system before gathering at the base of my cock and shooting it out.

I ride out my orgasm for a few moments, before I pull out and fix his pants and gingerly let him down to the floor. He stands on wobbly legs, leaning against the wall as he makes a face and wipes the drying cum from his body on his white shirt.

I adjust myself and we're still standing pretty close, so I glance up and meet his eyes with a small smile. He blushes and averts his gaze, before muttering "fucking moron" and hobbling away. I let out a snicker and feel elated, rubbing the back of my head as I turned around and let out a breath.

Upon inhale, I open my eyes, and stare at the white ceiling of my bedroom.

Fuck, and it'd been such a good dream...

I scowl and roll over, hitting 'snooze' on my alarm clock before getting ready for the day. I'll get him. I just know it.

NSNSNSNSNSNSN

That night at the club I'm standing at the same table in my dream, searching for the black haired beauty. He's not in the crowd, but I scan the tables around me and don't see him around, either. I sigh and droop my head, taking an unhealthy big swallow of my drink. Too bad not everything could go how I want it, right? I could be fucking his brains out right now.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I turn around, surprised to see the siren himself looking slightly disgruntled. He's wearing the outfit from my dream; skinny jeans and a white tee, and he's got that sexy scowl on his face. His eyes are off towards the side, but he speaks towards me.

"Wanna dance?" He asks, and I smile sunnily and stand up from my stool, nodding at him and taking his hand.

"Been waiting for three weeks, bastard," I say, as we head out to the dance floor.

"Don't give me a pet name, moron," he snaps, swiping his hand away from mine as we fall into the crowd and start dancing chest to chest, and I decide not to tell him that he's already given me a pet name.

Even if it's not exactly like my dream...

I still know exactly where that dark corner is.

--
A/N: Ohohohoo.
Poor Naruto.
You can't have Sasuke.
But he'll grudgingly give you a dance.
What a gentleman.

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