Summary: Somehow, Naruto had forgotten he was alive in those few hours he was sure he would rather die than remain on this planet. He was being forced to live a useless life, just like most of the planet was anyway, but a human one nonetheless. Sasuke/Naruto. Drabble-ish.
THIS CONTAINS MILD YAOI. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SOMEHOW OFFENDED BY THIS. Nothing extreme though... since I can't post any of my PWPs on here. :pout: There should really be a filter or section for that... I love writing smut. :)
I'm pretty sure I haven't gotten around to posting this here. So, here you are.
Just something I wrote up while listening to the song 'Human'. No, it's not a song-fic, but listening to the song before, after or during reading would be good.
Warnings: Some mild yaoi bits spliced in, but I guess it could be overlooked...wait no, not really. No flames or I'll eet joo.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, or hold claim to the song 'Human'. All rights reserved to Masashi Kishimoto and The Killers.
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Human
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Naruto hesitated, hand reached out, stuck halfway in the motion of grabbing the handle of the door directly in front of his face. He let a small sigh escape him, forcefully making it silent as to make everyone else oblivious to it. Outside the rain was pattering softly on the windowpane in the beginnings of one of the first rains of spring, like small fingertips pattering at the glass. It was undoubtedly cold outside, judging by the frost accumulating slowly on the glass, but no one paid it any mind because they weren’t staring indirectly at it. Naruto was, however, and noticed it just fine. He wondered why anyone would want a window on the front of their door in the first place for a concise moment, but quickly ignored the thought and tagged it redundant, but definitely not out of the possibility of being brought up in a conversation later on.
His impossible to hear sigh was obviously noticed by someone. Whether it was because his entire body had slumped during the action, or if he just looked like he was prone to sigh at a time like this he wasn’t sure, bur he felt a hand on his shoulder shortly after the action and he was quick to shrug it off, not facing the person kind enough to give their sympathy to him. Screw them, he thought.
He grabbed the door handle finally and yanked it open, grabbing someone’s umbrella on the way out from the coat rack, not caring if he got a ticket. Why the fuck would someone care that much about an umbrella, anyway? And he then slammed the door in the most anti-climatic way as possible. But he was sure he now looked like some damn melodramatic woman trying to make a scene anyway.
Outside, Naruto’s assumptions from earlier on were found to be true when he was forced to wrap the hand not carrying the umbrella around him, trying to rub in some lost heat. It was in vain, but now he felt even soggier than before. Stepping in a puddle on the way, he cursed himself again while trying to regain his footing, having faltered slightly from the indent in the mud. He had already damned himself for not stealing someone’s coat, too, but now he had that piled on top of a wet three-hundred dollar suit to worry about. Damn right he was pissed.
Cars whizzed by him in a more frustrating manner at the moment, considering Naruto’s car was also not with him because of his damn pride. He refused to bring his peace of crap Toyota with him in a situation like that. He could go out and buy an expensive suit like the one he had on, but he was too lazy to go out and get a loan for a decent car. All in all he considered himself to be a completely worthless ass, and now he didn’t even know where he was going. It was night and he hadn’t been in this part of town before without someone driving him—not counting if he had been drunk before, but that didn’t matter.
It was then that Naruto considered taking a taxi to wherever it was he was going. And just then, like some being was trying to help him out for once, one drove past. He blinked before calling out and raising his hand. He ran a short distance before giving up, convinced sourly that the damn cabby wasn’t going to stop for him, and he didn’t give a damn if it was for any reason in particular, because now he was sure one wasn’t going to drive by again in this dead end of town.
He slowed his pace, slumming along with one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other still holding his unopened umbrella. He thought it useless to open it at this point, and he could care less if he looked stupid. He was stupid—it was right of people to make that assumption. And did it matter? Hell no, in his opinion. Let the scum of this planet think what they wanted, it still didn’t make them any more or less of an ass.
It wasn’t until he heard the quiet, though punctuated and precise footfalls that he realized there was someone else coming along at him on the opposite side of the sidewalk. He didn’t bother to raise his head, nor did he step to the side of the walk. He wasn’t obligated to, so they could fuck off.
It seemed like an eternity before they actually crossed paths.
Naruto, despite thinking and knowing that he wasn’t going to move anywhere, did anyway. His body moved on its own accord and made an accommodating size of room for the passerby. He shuffled along at his normal pace, still not lifting his gaze from the street curb.
Regardless of that, their shoulders still brushed as they moved passed; it was very chaste, very slight and very small.
Naruto stopped a few feet after the contact.
He heard the other’s steps falter and finally stop a few feet behind him.
Never mind that Naruto was having one of the worst days of his life. Never mind that he had probably just went through with what could very well be the worst possible choice of his entire life—he was not going to give into the pressure of the day and, god damn it, he was not going to cry.
And in the end, was choking on one’s own air even a fair equivalent?
A few moments of helpless shaking and he gave up, letting the rain mix in and acknowledge that yes, fuck it, he was sobbing like a two year old. Like a little girl getting her pigtails pulled by the boy she liked, or a mother experiencing menopause without her caffeinated chocolate mocha, minus some of the absentee yelling.
There was a light touch on his shoulder. He shook it off violently and continued to sob, shutting his eyes tight and bowing his head, letting his arms hang at his sides, fists clenched. He called the owner of that hand a bitch and continued to cry more.
His offender didn’t seem to be bothered and actually laughed—laughed!—at his turmoil and obscene name calling, calling out some of their own small insults at him in a mocking tone.
Finally, he stopped for a moment long enough to scream out just what the hell was wrong with him, why he didn’t want anything to do with anyone at all at the moment, and that he wanted to do something completely uncharacteristic of himself and maybe even off some people as he went—all in the name of justice, and hell, making himself feel a little less shitty.
When he was finished he choked on air a couple of heartbeats longer and wiped away some of the snot accumulating just under his nose with the sleeve of his white undershirt. He couldn’t recall when he had taken off his jacket, but apparently he had some point in time, as he was now carrying it in the same hand as his acquired umbrella. It was grimy and lathered in mud, but he didn’t give a fuck—he just wanted to burn the thing, quite frankly, and about the only thing that bothered him about the extra layer of grime was that it might tax him slightly in carrying out that task.
When he felt the same hand lay on his shoulder he attempted to rip it off, but instead he was being turned around harshly, almost painfully, and then a heat of another person was soaking into his wet clothes as he was tugged further into a hard chest, and then finally enclosed completely in strong arms. He struggled more as the painfully annoying person sidled their head just under his chin, soft, damp locks tickling the underside of his jaw.
He hissed something indignant at the other person, slightly akin to wanting them to be dead and gone, but in return he was given words of comfort and was left crying again, hiccupping slightly. A warm cheek pressed to his wet one, soft lips pressed against the corner of his mouth as a gesture of well-meaning. He wanted none of it, even if it was constricting at his heart in an achingly painful, yet welcome way.
He was called an idiot, a moron, a complete and utterly insufferable dead last. His hair was tugged at painfully, head tilted back by the force so that those sweet lips could press to the pulse of his neck. It burned, but in a sickeningly pleasurable way.
Angry was what it was, Naruto realized as his shoulder was bit into, long fingers tugging back the collar of his shirt to get entrée. This person was angry—at who or what he was unsure, but it didn’t matter. For the moment he wanted to world to revolve around him for once, so he didn’t want this crap, he wanted to shove them away, hopefully into the nearest mud puddle.
His name was whispered; neck left alone for the moment and instead made to be used as someone’s pillow. He felt wet and cold, but not unwanted. But somehow this revelation was making him feel slightly nauseous. The other didn’t give up, just moved his head and pressed Naruto’s forehead onto their chest, where he felt like a baby being forced to suckle.
Sooner than he had liked or guessed he had stopped crying. The tears refused to come and he was left just standing there listening to a steady, strong beating organ. He felt stupid.
Naruto pushed away and, surprisingly, the other let him go, but still didn’t relinquish their grasp on his upper arms.
They stood for a few silent moments, staring relentlessly into equally steely faces, and then Naruto sighed.
With a stoic expression the other took his hand, taking the umbrella and jacket from his other, and dragged him in the right direction—to his, or rather their, home. He followed mutely and trudged along, staring down directly at their joint hands.
Somehow, Naruto had forgotten he was alive in those few hours he was sure he would rather die than remain on this planet. He was being forced to live a useless life, just like most of the planet was anyway, but a human one nonetheless.
Luckily for him, Sasuke never doubted that he was, and never failed to beat that sad realization into his thick head.
Naruto grasped the hand in his and grinned wearily, speeding up to pass the other on their already fast tread home.
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I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts, as long as they're limited to compliments and constructive criticism.
