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It happened every single time. It would start with a soft banging here and there, that initially felt refreshing to listen to but then turned into noise Sasuke no longer could stand. The music was amazing, the guy next door a prodigy though he didn’t know it since he cursed himself so loudly that the woman from the building opposite theirs would yell back to stop the profanities. Sasuke never minded before because the music compensated for his neighbor’s phrases. Also, he couldn’t complain; the most appealing grunts came out of the man’s mouth whenever he made a mistake, and it left Sasuke wondering why he didn’t fail more often. Of course, he wouldn’t admit it and instead sent himself to drown in the next cup of tea.
No one needed obscure thinking when they were writing poetry, or so he thought until a bell rang during one of his writing sessions. He approached the door carefully enough for his steps not to be heard. His breathing was all he could faintly perceive in the scene besides the feet that relentlessly tapped on the other side of the door. He wondered who that hyperactive person could be but, judging by the perfect rhythm of some childhood song he’d once known, something came to mind.
Sasuke waited silently behind the door, his slim fingers grabbing the doorknob weakly enough not to make a sound. It felt like being prey, but he did not know whose he’d ever be or in which specific context he could be comparable to one. There was nothing animalistic in his works, his boring routine, or his train of thought besides right then. His heart thumped louder in expectation, and he shut his mouth to let the seconds pass until his neighbor got bored and gave up on him. He did it every time, with every person in the neighborhood, because he’d never been interested in interacting. He barely spoke, ever.
“Uchiha… Sasuke?” A bright yet soft voice sounded, the syllables of something as mundane as his name tumbling straight through his ear canal and into his brain. He felt breathless and grabbed the doorknob a bit too strongly, making a sound that could be heard by any person near them – the neighbor included. He mentally felt the hit of the wall against his head, though the only thing that moved from its place was his eyes, which rolled in defeat. There was no way the person on the other side would think he wasn’t there. “Uh, I know you never come out, man. I need to ask you a favor, though.”
It was a surprise to feel the breeze of the door opening hit him, but the sight of Uzumaki Naruto scratching his scalp with an apologetic smile wasn’t. He’d seen one of those before at the beginning of his time in that apartment complex – the only time he’d tried apologizing to the old lady for having a sailor’s mouth. He never saw much of his neighbor again after that, and part of him was grateful he hadn’t until their eyes met for the first time in two years. Sasuke’s button-up shirt felt too tight around his neck and chest all of a sudden when a tiny, almost imperceptible glint appeared on sky-tinted orbs. The bags hanging from the man’s knuckles kept him focused on answering.
“What do you want?”
“You’re gonna laugh. Ah, gee, promise you won’t laugh.”
The way the guy’s tongue flickered, the obnoxiously distracting sound it made right after the condition made it hard for Sasuke to keep a poker face. Counterbalancing his facial muscles’ instinctive reaction to smirk at the unexpected visitor, he lowered his eyebrows and pressed his lips tightly.
“Do I look like I’ll laugh?” Sasuke asked almost defensively, but not as if taking shelter from Naruto himself but from his strong will to go gentle on his neighbor.
“Okay, got it. Look. Uh – I left my keys on the coffee table before I went out for groceries.”
“So you don’t have a copy.”
“Nope.”
“If you think my keys will work –“
“Why would I think that?”
Sasuke huffed in response, his poker face shattering slightly to show only a glimpse of a soft smile. To him, the uncontrolled gesture felt a lot like giving half his thoughts away. Effortlessly, almost as easily as his neighbor had forgotten the house keys. “Only someone dumb enough to leave their keys behind would think of such a dumb solution.”
It was meant as a comeback to himself for being so profoundly idiotic as not to keep the hostile façade. Two years of endless work not having a social life in his surroundings would be destroyed in minutes, seconds, if he did what he thought Naruto would ask of him. He shook his head tiredly, staring at the smiley faces printed on the two heavy plastic bags.
“I already asked Sakura to bring me the spare keys,” his neighbor jumped on his place mindlessly, his eyes enormous with the suspense the request left in him. “But she’s leaving work in four hours, and I think my ass will go flat if I spend them sitting on those damn tiles, you know?”
The instinct of running his eyes over the neighbor’s ass was too strong to fight. Sasuke’s dark orbs followed the invisible trail that started at the pool in his eyes, down his uncovered arms and finally settled in the view of a tiny curve. If he hadn’t had black eyes, he wouldn’t have dared take the risk of staring.
“So you want to stay for four hours. In my apartment.”
The deduction sounded menacing, fortunately enough to him. Deep inside, the poet felt afraid his words would betray him if Naruto was smart to understand that they were, in fact, a double-edged weapon.
“I promise I’ll be quiet. I am annoying, but I can try to be quiet, you know?”
It would have been too problematic of Sasuke if he had voiced his desires for the man to be anything but quiet. He considered how his next answer would come, and then he stopped himself in his tracks. When had he ever needed to second guess his thoughts?
The answer to the question was “always,” but he wouldn’t admit it to himself just yet.
“I can share my meals with you. It’d be a win-win! You don’t cook, and I don’t die waiting for her to come.”
Sakura. Her. Yeah, of course, there had to be someone.
Sasuke sighed as if all the air had been punched out of his lungs, but he made sure it would look like he was just pissed off. He was an expert at hiding any possible emotion from the community at that point. Being Uchiha Fugaku’s son finally came in handy – he’d never met a more unpredictable man than his father. He took pride in following his ways.
“There are no drums at home, so I don’t know how else you could possibly make sound anyway,” he replied trying to sound appalled, though he soon discovered his words remained a tell-tale sign of what he labeled as despair. There was no other way of describing being horny that sounded decent enough for the life he led.
Silence fell upon them until Naruto’s bags landed on the apartment’s kitchen table. Sasuke closed the door quietly, trying to bring himself back to normal, but saw his neighbor smiling back at him warmly and almost panicked. He wasn’t used to having anyone over, at least not in that home.
“Oh, there are a few ways,” Uzumaki pronounced with a surprised face, as if he had just been enlightened with the most essential truth there was to know. To Sasuke, if it hadn’t been for the other man’s incredibly stupid look, it would’ve sounded like a proposal he would have eventually given in to. “Cover some Tupperware with condoms or something and then get chopsticks. Those are enough for a beginner drummer, you know?”
Unbelievable.
“I don’t care,” he shrugged the topic off and sat on the chair next to where Naruto stood, inspecting the bags’ contents. He could hear the drummer grunt softly at his statement, but he did his best to ignore it. So much for a guilty pleasure of his – thank God his sleeves were down, or else his body would’ve visibly made him a fool out of himself. “Why did you buy so much stuff?”
“Well, some of us don’t have time to go all day sitting and eating at home, you know?”
It was then that Sasuke realized that if there was a more desperate bitch than him, it was Naruto.
“Hah. Funny. The door’s three steps away from us, and I’m strong enough to kick you out if I want.”
Naruto pouted, and it felt like Sasuke had just discovered one of the wonders of the world. His heart jumped, and his eyes couldn’t help but fixate on plump lips for some seconds. When they started moving, he was reminded that there was no way that man wouldn’t keep the conversation going.
“Okay. Sorry. I really need to do some other things besides sitting on the cold ground. We can coexist for a couple of hours without killing each other, can’t we?”
Straightforwardly stupid, just how he liked them. Sasuke stood up rebelliously, but the only thing that could show his disdain was his hips, which he currently had no control over as he stepped away into his bedroom. If he’d been able to watch himself, he would’ve felt embarrassed of being such a trademark homosexual.
“Do whatever you want,” he muttered when he passed by the slightly taller neighbor, burning coal clashing with the most turbulent of oceans. There was no fun in fighting with someone he’d just met, but he wasn’t up for any kind of fun anyway.
The tension was clear to both an hour in, mainly because of how terrifyingly differently they behaved. Sasuke soon understood why they had never even met – Naruto had a crazy life, and he was the complete opposite. While blue eyes would be instructing the shit out of people, the most upbeat thing he’d be doing daily was serving tea to keep on brainstorming ideas on the balcony. They were day and night, right and left, fun and boring.
The sound of bubbling water coming from the kitchen distracted him from the avalanche of negative thoughts that threatened to come to him. A moan followed, and he could’ve sworn he was dreaming if it hadn’t been for the faint smell of miso that came right after it. Having the guy over was surreal.
“Here’s some ramen, buddy!” Blonde spikes of hair appeared from the corner of his bedroom door, and soon the neighbor’s impossibly bright smile showed up alongside. Strong, callous fingers gripped two bowls of boiling cup noodles. It unsettled Sasuke, so much so that his neighbor stopped midway. Something strangely foreign invaded the writer.
“Don’t tell me this is your lunch.”
“And yours.”
“I don’t eat in my bedroom.”
“Shit, man, I would’ve thought you did.”
“What gave you that impression?” Sasuke asked, annoyed at best.
He stood up from the cushioned desk chair to stare up at the other man in the room. Three quarters of his being were ecstatic about the proximity their bodies had in that context, in that setting, yet the other quarter pushed through. Who in their right minds ate in their bedroom when they had the rest of the place to do so?
He cringed as one of his pale hands cupped the bowl offered his way. The raven wasn’t sure why he would give up on habit for a four-hour visitor. Before he could process it any further, Sasuke found himself leaving for the balcony and sitting near a monstera his older brother had gifted him after graduation. He wished for Naruto to stay in his bedroom and eat there – if there was a place more intimate to him than his bedroom, it was the balcony.
When his eyes didn’t find Naruto in his vicinity, he felt disappointed. Although he didn’t know him much, he’d had the wrong idea that he would be like a puppy. The bastard could stain his bed covers with miso soup, yet he was much more concerned about not being followed. Sasuke weighed his priorities as he took a sip of the ramen he’d been served. At least it tasted good.
“Guess I’ll have to come to the kitchen, then?” Naruto yelled inside, and something stirred in Sasuke’s heart. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that his bed would remain clean or that he had been thoughtful enough to accompany him at lunch. He was sure, though. He just pretended he wasn’t so it wouldn’t drive him crazier.
“You…”
The poet didn’t know what to say, what to answer, but he had it in him to squint his eyes and try to phrase an invitation. Staring at his balcony walls, the curtains of his big window, and the small cacti getting the shade, he drowned his motive in an appreciative hum. He couldn’t do it.
“It’s almost the best ramen in town, you know? My top #1 is Ichiraku, though. If you liked this one, you’ll love theirs.”
The words sounded like the invitation Sasuke had restricted himself to make. Much better if he was honest. They were smooth, simple, and lacked intensity. It could have meant that it felt meaningless to Naruto, but judging by the passion he slurped the noodles with, the poet wasn’t certain if that was the right thing to say. He gave no fucks about ramen, and it looked like the guy gave too many.
“There won’t be a next time to bring me any other kind of ramen,” the raven said way too carelessly. His fingers toyed with a pair of chopsticks, and the motion made a soft sound against the big wooden spoon waiting to be rescued from a sea of miso. He got no answer in return, except for occasional slurping.
The cold morning air invaded his lungs and gave him the energy to walk back home from the station. The holidays with his brother had been so wholesome he was full of new ideas for his next projects. A nature poetry compilation had emerged as a chance at refreshing the Japanese literary scene, and Sasuke felt the thrill of another success coming his way. Smiling to himself and already thinking of the beautiful scenery and flora that surrounded Itachi’s big seaside house, he halted to a stop at a pedestrian crossing.
He wasn’t the only one to turn his face to someone else, sweat running down the other’s temples. They stared for what felt like five minutes and then moved in their respective directions after a car made hearing impossible. The poet stared down at his feet, feeling the need to skip tile divisions just for the sake of not obsessing over rosy cheeks, disheveled hair, and heavy breathing in the form of an early-morning runner.
The hand pulling at his elbow didn’t help at all. He turned back, defeated. The writer thought he’d been left just the way he’d been the day of the key incident. A nice, implicitly polite “see you later.”
“You’re very touchy, I see.”
“Sorry. I didn’t see you this month and seeing you alive was cool.”
He'd never seen him before anyway. That made Sasuke wonder: Cool as in great or just cool as ice?
“Took some days off.”
“We have to catch up! Looks like great stuff happened to you,” Naruto smirked his way, and it felt way too intimate to handle. Sasuke was not used to being nice and easy; he was your local bitch with no sense of community. Hearing those words moved something in him.
How could he tell?
“Oh, it was written all over your face. You were smiling when I found you, so I guessed it was that, you know?” Naruto’s loud voice blocked any further thinking, yet furthered Sasuke’s misery as he realized he’d formulated the question aloud.
“I get you’re saying I can’t smile just because.”
“Well, I’ve never seen you smile before,” Naruto giggled nervously, biting his lower lip slightly. It was a bad habit to get rid of the dry skin on your lips like that, but to Sasuke, such a sight was almost insulting. It was endearingly cute. “You should do it more often, you know?”
“So you think you can just go and say that to anyone. God bless I don’t suffer from chronic depression.”
“Oh, I just thought you look pretty when you smile.”
In the seconds that followed, the raven felt his heartbeat falter as his eyes roamed over his neighbor’s face. It could have been mere kindness – the man’s pure intention to go and tell Sasuke it was alright to show who he was. It could have been a single-handed comment with no other purpose than just reminding the poet how much of a sunshine boy Naruto was. It could have been sarcasm or defiance. Nothing fit the way Naruto’s blue eyes shimmered under a cloudy sky.
Sasuke couldn’t answer that and just bowed down before taking his leave. He heard jogging resume in the sound of plastic crashing against the pavement rhythmically and left in the opposite direction of the drummer.
Halfway through a poem about the leafy cemetery Sasuke had encountered in the holidays, he realized he was experiencing the beginning of another episode of writer’s block. Although the poet had already jotted down all sorts of thoughts and feelings inspired by the many places he’d seen, he couldn’t bring himself to make sense of the words, the structures, the emotions. He felt nothing, and if it was so, then he wouldn’t write. With a loud tap, his computer was closed and him gone before he knew it, an umbrella suffering the consequences of his frustration. Nothing a good cup of coffee wouldn’t solve.
Before he pressed the elevator button, he searched his pockets for the typical: phone, ID, pen, keys. He mentally crossed the first two off his list, but when nothing sounded like metal clacking against metal, he gave up on trying to move anywhere. It was then that the words echoed in his mind: Only someone dumb enough to leave their keys behind would think of such a dumb solution.
Sasuke rang the neighbor’s bell before he could even question his choice, and Naruto opened the door faster than humanly possible.
“What’s up?” The blonde asked, eyes open like plates as if he’d been staring at an apparition. The writer’s eyes remained emotionless as always, but Sasuke had a burning desire to grab the other man by the collar and kiss him. It was luck.
He’d thought Naruto would be training his students that time of day. At least, that’s what it seemed like every Thursday afternoon. He wondered why he was there right when Sasuke had made the most mindless decision yet.
“Can I come in?” He asked, not giving any details about his sudden visit. Still, he felt like his head was boiling and not precisely out of anger, so he figured the red tones of his face would be a giveaway for Naruto to figure it out on his own. That was if he was smart enough.
“Sure. This place is nothing like yours, though, so mind the tons of stuff lying around.”
“I wouldn’t expect less from someone who had lunch in his bedroom,” Sasuke whispered more to himself than the drummer as he entered, but the eye roll coming from the blonde was enough of a consolation prize for having left his keys at home.
“Says who lost his keys,” Naruto snorted as part of the reply, pressing his lips together not to let out a loud laugh right on his neighbor’s face. Sasuke knew he was being careful, but no tip-toeing was needed when things had already been hard all day.
“Just an hour. I’ll figure something out.”
“Well, you can stay here for as long as you need, you know?”
It almost felt like a second invitation, and then he was reminded of the first. Sasuke was tired of dancing around concepts, words, idioms, capitals, punctuation, and sentiment.
“I’m grabbing a cup of coffee. Mind to show me around that ramen place first?”
It felt bold, anything but wise all things considered. He’d just forgotten his keys, and he was asking an almost stranger out on what, to him, was nothing but a date. Sasuke stared at himself in the mirror that stood right in the hall of Naruto’s apartment. He could observe not only his pale face looking almost ghostly after the question, but also parts of the place that differed so much from his own. His apartment was smaller and cozier in a way – it was all he needed. In contrast, Uzumaki’s was far more spacious, which left him wondering how exactly it looked so messy. The only patch of spatial common sense in that whole place was where the drums lay, right behind the balcony. The thought of having the same workplace surprised him greatly.
“I’d rather stay in today, you know? Drum practice can’t be delayed on a tight schedule, Sasuke.”
His name being pronounced in Naruto’s low, dubitative voice was all it took for the writer to recur to introspection. It was that or throwing himself at the other man, which was not ideal in that or any other context. Still, he let his skin experience all the emotion he had to drain from his face way too quickly, arm hairs standing at the pleasure of hearing his neighbor call him so naturally. It almost felt like being called by a lover. Though it was risky to make such a statement, Sasuke knew that was exactly how it felt to him.
“Next time, Naruto,” the poet whispered with a small smile, and he had to refrain from stepping closer to the only inhabitant of that hell on earth. The thought of condoms decorating Tupperware helped quite a lot.
“Look. How about you stay in my bedroom, do whatever you want, and then I see you in an hour? I know how annoying it can get to the neighbors. I have no idea how you write your stuff with all my noise next door.”
The finding of having been watched paralyzed Sasuke, leaving his eyes wide open as his breath hitched. The thought of his neighbor watching over him as he worked made him feel warm inside despite how creepy the action was in isolation.
“I… I am not bothered by it. It’s not ideal, but then again, nothing is,” he answered quietly, his right hand resting on his hip for a more comfortable position. With his left, he fished for his phone until he grabbed it from his pants’ back pocket.
They stared at each other; the unasked question was left pending as Sasuke closed the door of Naruto’s bedroom. He let himself fall on the blonde’s tall bed with the fluffiest of cushions hitting his face. He couldn’t help but sniff the smell of clean sheets combined with some sort of citric perfume. Sasuke had never been close enough to Naruto to smell it, but he imagined it was his – unless it was Sakura’s.
The loud beep of a digital metronome distracted Sasuke from the idea of there being anyone else. Even if there was, it was him who Uzumaki stared at from his balcony. It was the poet who was observed before or after drumming sessions, not any other person. At least, he had the privilege of being admired from afar. It was almost romantic, except for the inherent creepiness of it all. When Naruto started playing his music, he realized that he had never heard him live. The sound leaked through the windows and walls, but what he got from his side of the building was just the muffled extracts of something that could be much better than it already was. Pushing himself down from the bed, Sasuke stepped out of the room and sat by the coffee table that was a few meters away from where Naruto sat.
The random decision had the blond stop right at the third smack of his drumsticks against one another. His eyes widened slightly, but not enough to show surprise. Following Sasuke with his eyes only, when he saw him land on the nearest chair, Naruto gave him a toothy smile. For such a hermit to deem his playing worth spending the time listening to, the action of having Sasuke near to him felt like a miracle. Not only it was because of how reticent the writer always showed himself to be, but because the drummer had long wanted a partner to join him in his musical adventures. Sakura and Sai were not enough since they were always in sync, and they always knew how the other performed. With Sasuke, it was different since it was a lot like starting over with someone new.
The next time Sasuke and Naruto saw each other, they nodded their heads curtly before both stepped into the rain. As always, the blond went out in nothing but a sleeveless T-shirt and his grey jogging shorts. Sasuke wore a scarf that day along with another one of his button-ups and his comfiest pair of pants. Since he despised getting his feet wet, he wore waterproof boots and brought the umbrella from their previous meeting.
They didn’t talk after Sasuke contacted his all-time best friend, Suigetsu, for the spare keys to his home. When the silver-haired guy showed up at Naruto’s apartment door with a crooked smile, Sasuke figured it had been enough of a turn-off anyway. His neighbor was convinced that he had a boyfriend who brought spare keys and, who knew, maybe some fucking along with them. Not that the writer cared what his neighbor thought about who he got in bed or not. Until a few months before, they were strangers – nothing could change the fact that they still didn’t know each other well.
When Sasuke turned to his right and made his way there, he felt a strong hand grab his right wrist. If it hadn’t been for how focused the writer was on not getting wet from the heavy downpour, he would have dropped the umbrella out of sheer surprise. With a gasp, he made his eyes roam over the tan hand holding him tightly.
Before the poet could ask for any explanations for such a pointless behavior, Naruto blurted out some words that he could already call bullshit from. “I don’t feel like running today. I’d rather walk with you.”
“It’s raining, Naruto.”
“I don’t even know what you’re doing out here.”
“I’m walking,” Sasuke responded way too simply. It was too broad, too vague, too smooth. It was nothing like the usual words in his repertoire. “You shouldn’t run with such heavy rain. Go home.”
“Go home with me. We can have tea together,” Naruto backfired, and it felt like a hole was already forming in Sasuke’s stomach. It had become too much too soon, and he didn’t know any of that since his romantic connections had been close to none. All he could do was spit back things he no longer processed.
“Sakura could keep you company.”
“There are other ways of telling me you’re going to that guy’s, you know?”
Sasuke could only stare back to try and decipher what Naruto’s seemingly emotionless face expressed. It was all in vain, to try and find out the information he believed he would get. Instead, the drummer’s intense stare was on his, and Sasuke didn’t know what to do with himself any longer – not with Naruto’s chest being way too close to his. That was what umbrellas did to desperate people.
“Don’t give me that shit,” the raven spat, distancing himself from the other man and sheltering only himself from the rain. He watched silently as the water fell down Naruto’s jaw and onto his grey cotton shirt. “Go home with you?”
“Look. I don’t know if I’m thinking this right, but I think you thought Sakura’s my girlfriend? And I also thought you were dating that guy?” Naruto asked back, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Just thinking of it made him crack up apparently because he was soon laughing in front of the same poker face he’d once met with. Sasuke stared blankly at him, trying to figure out if he was being lied to or if that was, in fact, always in his head.
But Naruto was too stupid to be a liar, so Sasuke broke free of his grip just to drag him back to their building and up the stairs to the floor where they lived.
“You’re such an idiot. A fucking idiot.”
It would’ve sounded way too harmful if they hadn’t known a little bit of each other or if anyone had heard Sasuke out of context. The blond, however, knew better than that and giggled softly, looking down at his feet. Absentmindedly, his index finger slid below his nose, a clear sign of his discomfort. The poet’s dark eyes looked for his neighbor’s shy stare. With no rain to interrupt them, Sasuke could look into Naruto’s eyes more easily. His eyes flickered from them to the blonde’s pink lips and then back to swim in the clearest blue. There, he stood before his neighbor as if waiting for some kind of permission, which was never granted because he captured Sasuke’s lips before he could even ask for anything.
It felt sweeter than anything he’d had before. He had always been careful enough not to have anyone mess with his body and heart. Having Naruto as his first kiss felt right nevertheless. Sasuke savored the slight touch of their tongue tips as he breathed in the air before continuing their kiss. He was sure that, if things had developed as stupidly as Naruto had asked about them, they had waited for that moment for way too long. He smiled broadly and broke free of Naruto’s soft bite on his lower lip just to look back at a face the color of a tomato and pupils bigger than the moon. Before he spoke, he went back again to nuzzle their noses slowly, to which the drummer responded effusively.
“So?” Naruto asked.
“So what?”
“What do we do now?”
“You mean it as in ‘What are we?’”
“Oh,” Naruto’s skin visibly paled as if all the blood in his body had decided to concentrate in his cheeks and ears. “I was thinking of what was gonna come next, but uh – if you wanna have the tea, I don’t mind, you know?”
Naruto really didn't watch his words or mouth. Exasperated, Sasuke grabbed his keys and opened the door to his apartment, dragging the other man inside in the shape of a pulled T-shirt and open-mouthed kisses.
That day, Naruto handed Sasuke his keys after finding them attached to the outside lock. Sasuke bade him goodnight with a kiss on the cheek and an attempt at a poker face he would no longer be able to fake around his neighbor.