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The first time Naruto Uzumaki laid eyes on Sasuke Uchiha, he decided he hated him.
It was move-in day at Konoha University, and the tiny dorm room, with its cinderblock walls and single, grimy window, was already a pressure cooker.
Sasuke stood by the unused bed, impeccably dressed in a dark, collared shirt, his expression one of pure, unadulterated disdain as Naruto stumbled in, a box of ramen cups spilling from his arms.
“Great,” Naruto had grumbled, dropping his duffel bag with a thud. “I got stuck with the stuck-up rich kid.”
Sasuke’s eyes, dark and unreadable, had flicked over him. “And I’m saddled with the loudmouthed idiot. Try not to drool in your sleep.”
That was the beginning.
A semester of cold shoulders, passive-aggressive notes on the whiteboard (“Clean your disgusting ramen bowls. -S”), and bickering over everything from the thermostat (Naruto liked it warm, Sasuke preferred it cold) to whose turn it was to take out the trash.
They were a study in opposites: Naruto, all bright orange hoodies and boisterous energy; Sasuke, a study in quiet, brooding composure.
Somehow, though, the animosity morphed.
It started out of sheer, mind-numbing boredom during a late-night study session for a shared history class.
Naruto, frustrated and ready to tear his hair out, had thrown his textbook across the room.
“I don’t get it! All these old clan wars! It’s so stupid!”
To his utter shock, Sasuke had sighed, put down his own pen, and said, “The Uchiha and Senju conflict was primarily over resources and ideology. It’s not that difficult, usuratonkachi.”
He’d then proceeded to explain the entire chapter in a clipped, efficient manner that, against all odds, actually made sense.
Naruto, grudgingly impressed, had offered him a cup of instant ramen as a thank you. Sasuke had accepted with a curt nod.
That was the crack in the dam.
The bickering never stopped, it was the bedrock of their relationship, but it lost its venom.
It became a familiar, almost comforting soundtrack to their lives.
They discovered a shared, cutthroat competitive streak, turning everything from exam grades to who could finish a bowl of ramen faster into a rivalry.
Their friendship was a quiet, comfortable thing, built in the mundane spaces of their shared life.
Naruto would drag Sasuke to action movies, complaining the whole time about the unrealistic fight scenes, and Sasuke would retort with scathing critiques of the plot.
Halfway through, Naruto would inevitably slump over, his head finding a pillow on Sasuke’s thigh, fast asleep.
Sasuke would roll his eyes, mutter “deadweight,” but he’d never shove him off. He’d just continue eating his popcorn, one hand occasionally absently brushing a stray strand of blond hair from Naruto’s forehead.
They shared food without a second thought, drank from the same soda bottle, and Naruto had a standing invitation to raid the expensive, gourmet snacks Sasuke’s brother Itachi sent him.
They knew each other’s schedules by heart. Sasuke would leave the desk lamp on if Naruto was out late, and Naruto would always grab an extra coffee for Sasuke on his way back from an early class.
It was all perfectly normal to them. They were roommates. Best friends, even, though neither would ever use such a sappy term. Rivals, definitely.
Which was why Naruto was so utterly blindsided one afternoon at the campus café.
He was regaling Kiba and Shikamaru with a story about how Sasuke, in a fit of rare, un-Uchiha-like clumsiness, had tripped over Naruto’s discarded shoes and spilled an entire pot of ink on his precious, hand-written notes.
“And his face!” Naruto howled, slapping the table. “He looked so pissed! He chased me around the dorm with the ink pot for, like, ten minutes! It was awesome!”
Kiba, chewing on a pork bun, raised an eyebrow. “Dude, when are you two just gonna admit you’re dating and put the rest of us out of our misery?”
Naruto’s laughter died in his throat. He stared at Kiba as if he’d just suggested they all enroll in advanced flower-arranging classes. “What? What are you talking about? We’re not dating!”
“Sure,” Kiba snorted. “You just have domestic slap-fights and cuddle during movies. Totally normal bro behavior.”
Naruto felt a hot flush creep up his neck. “We don’t cuddle! He’s just a convenient pillow! And we’re roommates! That’s what roommates do!”
He looked desperately at Shikamaru, the voice of reason. “Shika, back me up here. This is crazy, right?”
Shikamaru took a long, slow sip of his drink, his expression one of profound laziness mixed with pity for Naruto’s density.
“It’s a drag to even have to explain this,” he sighed. “But Naruto, the things you two do… they don’t sound like things you do with ‘just a roommate.’”
“Like what?” Naruto demanded, his voice rising an octave.
“Like,” Shikamaru counted off on his fingers, “him letting you use his ridiculously expensive shampoo when you run out. You knowing how he takes his tea without ever having to ask. Him letting you sleep on his lap. Naruto, I wouldn’t let you within five feet of me if you were covered in glue, let alone sleep on me.”
“That’s… that’s just because he’s too lazy to push me off!” Naruto sputtered, but the protest sounded weak even to his own ears.
“You two bicker like an old married couple,” Kiba added. “You finish each other’s sentences. You bought him that fancy calligraphy set for his birthday because you ‘noticed his old one was getting worn out.’ What roommate notices that?”
Naruto fell silent, the words hitting him like a series of small, sharp stones.
He replayed the last few months in his head.
The easy physical proximity. The way Sasuke’s scowl would soften almost imperceptibly when Naruto walked into the room. The quiet, unspoken understanding that Sasuke was his person to annoy, to protect, to be with. The way his chest felt tight and warm when Sasuke gave him one of his rare, genuine smiles.
“Oh,” he said, the single syllable heavy with dawning realization.
He spent the rest of the day in a daze, the world tilting on its axis.
When he returned to their dorm, Sasuke was at his desk, typing an essay. The room was filled with the soft, rhythmic clicking of the keyboard and the faint, clean scent of Sasuke’s soap.
“You’re back late,” Sasuke said without turning around. “I saved you the last pork bun from the place you like. It’s on your desk.”
Naruto’s eyes drifted to the carefully wrapped bun on his messy desk, right next to a cold can of his favorite soda.
His heart did a funny little flip.
He looked at Sasuke—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark hair fell over his eyes, the familiar slope of his shoulders.
He saw his roommate, his rival, his best friend.
And for the first time, he saw something else, something more, something that had been there all along, woven into the very fabric of their bickering, shared popcorn, and comfortable silence.
He walked over and picked up the pork bun, his mind racing. He couldn’t just say it. It was too big, too terrifying. So he fell back on what they knew best.
“You’re such a mother hen, Sasuke,” he said, his voice a little too loud.
Sasuke finally turned, fixing him with that familiar, unimpressed stare. “Shut up, deadlast. Just eat it before I change my mind.”
Naruto grinned, a real, genuine grin this time, the panic receding under a wave of sudden, crystal-clear certainty. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks… bastard.”
And as he unwrapped the bun, the comfortable silence settling around them once more, Naruto knew.
Shikamaru and Kiba were right.
This wasn't just being roommates. This was something else entirely, and he was suddenly, desperately eager to find out what.
The world had fundamentally shifted on its axis, and Naruto was floundering in the new, terrifying gravity of it. Kiba’s teasing and Shikamaru’s logical dissection had planted a seed, and now it was a choking, blooming vine wrapping around every interaction he had with his roommate.
Suddenly, everything was suspect.
When Sasuke tossed him a clean t-shirt from the laundry pile, Naruto’s face flamed red.
"Thanks," he'd mumbled, clutching the fabric like it was a live wire. Sasuke just stared, a faint line of confusion between his brows. "It's just a shirt, dobe."
When Naruto, out of habit, slumped onto the couch and began to lower his head towards Sasuke's lap during a movie, he froze midway, his body going rigid.
He ended up jerking upright, spine straight as a rod, and spent the next two hours intensely focused on the screen, not absorbing a single frame.
Sasuke ate his popcorn, the silence between them unusually strained.
"Are you sick?" Sasuke finally asked, his voice cutting through the awkward tension. "You're being weird."
"Me? Weird? No way! I'm totally normal! Just... really into this movie!" Naruto's voice was a high-pitched squeak. He could feel Sasuke's skeptical gaze burning a hole in the side of his head.
The bickering remained, but it had lost its easy, fluid rhythm.
Naruto’s retorts were either too loud or too delayed, his comebacks lacking their usual fiery spirit.
He was hyper-aware of every detail: the way Sasuke’s long fingers held a pen, the specific scent of his shampoo on the shared shower caddy, the way his mouth quirked up on one side when he was secretly amused.
It was a constant, low-grade state of gay panic, and Naruto was a terrible liar, especially to himself.
They were still friends. They were still rivals. But now there was a third, unnamable thing lurking in their dorm room, and only Naruto could see it.
The breaking point came on a sunny Tuesday.
Naruto was cutting across the main quad, a bag of greasy takeout in hand, when he saw them.
Sasuke, leaning against the trunk of a large oak tree, and Sakura Haruno.
Naruto’s breath hitched. Sakura. He’d had a massive, embarrassing crush on her all through high school, one she’d gently but firmly never reciprocated.
She was beautiful, smart, and kind—everything he’d thought he wanted. And there she was, talking to Sasuke, a pretty blush on her cheeks.
A cold stone settled in Naruto’s gut.
He ducked behind a nearby sculpture, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was too far to hear everything clearly, but snippets of their conversation, carried by the capricious wind, reached him.
"... really need a date..." Sakura’s voice was pleading.
Sasuke’s response was a low murmur.
"... just be... my boyfriend..." Sakura said something like that as her response.
Naruto’s blood ran cold.
The words "date" and "boyfriend" echoed in his skull, drowning out all other sound. He saw Sasuke nod, a curt, definitive gesture.
That was all he needed to see. The greasy takeout felt heavy and nauseating in his hand. He turned and walked away, his feet carrying him numbly back to the dorm. He didn't hear Sasuke’s next words, the reluctant sigh that followed his agreement.
---
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Sasuke asked, his arms crossed. “It seems like a drag.”
Sakura wrung her hands slightly. “I know, I know. It’s just… Ino won’t stop gloating about her new model boyfriend, and I just want to… you know, show up with someone who will absolutely shut her up. You have that effect on people.”
Sasuke raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“And,” Sakura continued, her voice dropping, “Hinata and I aren’t open about our relationship yet. Her family… it’s complicated. So I can’t bring her. I just need a stand-in for one night. Please, Sasuke? As a favor?”
Sasuke sighed, looking out across the quad.
For a fleeting second, he thought he saw a flash of familiar orange hoodie disappearing behind the administration building. Probably his imagination.
He turned his attention back to Sakura’s hopeful, desperate face. He wasn’t one for theatrics or playing pretend, but Sakura was a friend, and her request, while annoying, was simple.
“Fine,” he relented. “One night. But you owe me.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sakura beamed. “I’ll text you the details!”
She skipped away, leaving Sasuke alone under the tree.
He pulled out his phone, a slight frown on his face. He needed to get back.
Naruto had texted about getting burgers, and he’d seemed oddly excited about it.
Lately, the dobe had been acting strange, and Sasuke, despite his usual aloofness, found himself… concerned. It was irritating.
---
Back in the dorm, Naruto dumped the now-cold burgers on his desk.
The room felt different. Smaller. Suffocating.
The familiar chaos of his side of the room, which usually felt like home, now just felt messy and juvenile next to Sasuke’s pristine order.
Of course, a nasty voice in his head whispered, of course Sasuke would go for someone like Sakura. Smart, pretty, put-together. Not some loud, ramen-obsessed idiot who still can't do his laundry right.
When Sasuke walked in, Naruto didn’t turn around. He pretended to be engrossed in a video game, his knuckles white as he gripped the controller.
“You got the burgers,” Sasuke stated, hanging his jacket on the hook.
“Yep,” Naruto said, his voice flat.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Not hungry anymore.”
Sasuke paused, watching the tense line of Naruto’s back.
The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.
This was worse than the blushing, worse than the weird, stiff behavior.
This was a cold withdrawal.
“What’s your problem?” Sasuke finally asked, his tone sharper than he intended.
“No problem,” Naruto bit out, his character on screen dying a violent death. “Just heard you’re going on a date. With Sakura. Congrats.”
The pieces clicked into place in Sasuke’s mind.
The flash of orange in the quad. Naruto’s weirdness.
This… this mood. He wasn’t just being weird; he was jealous.
The realization was so startling, so utterly unexpected, that for a moment, Sasuke was speechless. He’d assumed Naruto’s old crush on Sakura was long dead. Was that it? Was he upset that Sasuke was going out with the girl he’d once liked?
A strange, possessive feeling, hot and unfamiliar, flared in Sasuke’s chest. It wasn’t just about Sakura. This was about them.
“It’s not a date,” Sasuke said, his voice low.
“Yeah, right. Heard you clear as day. ‘Be my boyfriend.’ Sounds like a date to me.” Naruto finally spun around in his chair, and the raw, unguarded hurt in his blue eyes was like a physical blow. “Guess you finally found someone worthy of the great Sasuke Uchiha, huh?”
Sasuke took a step forward, his dark eyes narrowed. “You’re an idiot. You didn’t hear the whole conversation.”
“I heard enough!”
“She’s asking me to be her beard, you moron!” Sasuke snapped, the unusual vulgarity shocking the room into silence. “She's a lesbian. She’s dating that Hyuuga girl. They’re not out. She needs to show up to some party with a guy to get her stupid friend off her back. It’s a favor. Nothing more.”
The fight drained out of Naruto instantly, replaced by a wave of dizzying confusion and shame. “Oh,” he said, his voice small. “Hinata? Really?”
“Yes, really. Even if she was asking me out, I would've rejected her anyway because I'm fucking gay, you idiot.”
They stared at each other, the air crackling with all the unspoken things that had been building for weeks.
The accusation, the jealousy, the relief—it was all laid bare between them.
Sasuke broke the silence, his voice dangerously quiet. “Why do you care, Naruto? Why does the thought of me going on a date with anyone bother you so much?”
Naruto’s mouth opened and closed. The direct question left him nowhere to hide. The blush was back, creeping up his neck and flooding his cheeks. He looked down at his hands, at the floor, anywhere but at Sasuke.
“I… I don’t know,” he whispered, the lie pathetic and transparent.
Sasuke took another step, closing the distance between them. He didn’t say anything. He just waited, his intense gaze forcing Naruto to look up, to meet his eyes.
And in that charged silence, with the truth hanging in the air between them, Naruto knew the last vestiges of his denial were crumbling away. It was terrifying. And it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him.
The silence in the dorm room was no longer just awkward; it was a physical presence, thick and heavy, pressing in on them from all sides. Sasuke’s question hung in the air, a lit fuse waiting to reach the explosive.
“Why do you care, Naruto? Why does the thought of me going on a date with anyone bother you so much?”
Naruto’s heart was a frantic drum against his ribs. He could feel the heat of his own blush, a betraying wildfire across his face and neck. He stared at a scuff mark on the floor, willing it to swallow him whole.
Sasuke didn’t relent. He took one final, deliberate step forward, until the toes of his shoes were almost touching Naruto’s sneakers.
The proximity was overwhelming. Naruto could smell the faint, clean scent of his laundry detergent.
“Are you jealous?” Sasuke’s voice was low, devoid of its usual mocking edge. It was simply… probing.
The word was a direct hit. Naruto’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with panic. “What? No! Don’t be stupid! It’s not like I… like you or something, you bastard!” The denial was too loud, too frantic, cracking at the edges.
Sasuke didn’t flinch.
He just stared, his dark eyes seeming to see right through the bravado, down to the tangled, terrified mess beneath.
He was like a predator who had cornered his prey and was now just… waiting.
“Do you?” he asked, his voice impossibly quiet. “Or not?”
Naruto felt like he was drowning.
The walls were closing in. Every instinct screamed at him to shove Sasuke away, to make a joke, to run or anything to escape this unbearable intensity.
But his feet were rooted to the spot, pinned by the weight of Sasuke’s gaze.
“What does that even matter?” Naruto deflected, his voice trembling. “So what if I am? It doesn’t change anything. We’re still roommates. Still rivals. Just… just forget I said anything.”
He tried to push past him, a desperate attempt at a retreat, but Sasuke’s hand shot out, not to grab him, but to plant itself flat on the doorframe beside Naruto’s head, blocking his exit.
The move caged him in, and the air left Naruto’s lungs in a whoosh.
“It matters,” Sasuke said, and the raw sincerity in those two words was more shocking than any insult he’d ever thrown.
Naruto’s defenses, built over a lifetime of hiding his vulnerabilities, shattered.
The fight drained out of him, leaving him boneless and exposed.
He slumped against the doorframe, his head bowing in defeat.
He was so tired of pretending, of blushing, of feeling this confusing, wonderful, terrible thing all by himself.
“Fine,” he whispered, the word scraping out of his throat.
He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch the disgust or, worse, the pity, dawn on Sasuke’s face. “Yes. Okay? Yes, I do. Happy now? I like you. And not just as a roommate or a rival. I… I have for a while, I guess, I just didn’t get it until… and I get it if you don’t like me back. It’s fine. We can just… go back to normal.”
He braced himself for the laughter, for the cold dismissal, for the end of the best friendship he’d ever had.
It didn’t come.
Instead, there was a long, suspended silence. Naruto could hear the frantic thumping of his own heart, the hum of the mini-fridge, the distant sound of a car horn outside. He dared to crack open one eye.
Sasuke wasn’t looking at him with disgust. He wasn’t laughing. He was just… studying him, his head tilted slightly, an unreadable expression on his face.
It was the same look he got when he was solving a complex equation, utterly focused.
Then, the corner of his mouth twitched. It wasn’t a smirk.
It was something softer, something infinitely more dangerous.
“Usuratonkachi,” Sasuke murmured, the old insult sounding like an endearment.
Before Naruto could process it, Sasuke’s free hand came up, his fingers gently brushing against Naruto’s jaw, tipping his face up.
The touch was electric, sending a jolt through Naruto’s entire system.
“You’re such an idiot,” Sasuke said, his voice hushed. “All that noise… just to say that.”
And then he leaned in.
It wasn’t a dramatic, movie-style kiss.
It was slow, tentative, a question.
His lips were softer than Naruto had ever imagined, and they were cool against his own, which were flushed and warm with panic.
Naruto froze, his brain short-circuiting.
This wasn’t happening.
This couldn’t be happening.
Sasuke started to pull back, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, and that was what finally broke Naruto’s paralysis.
His hands, which had been hanging limply at his sides, flew up, fisting in the front of Sasuke’s shirt. He pulled him back, surging forward to meet his lips again, this time with an answering pressure.
It was clumsy, inexperienced, and absolutely perfect.
The world narrowed to this single point of contact: the soft pressure of Sasuke’s mouth, the feel of his shirt crumpled in Naruto’s hands, the faint scent of him filling Naruto’s senses.
The constant, buzzing anxiety that had plagued him for weeks melted away, replaced by a stunning, all-consuming clarity.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Naruto’s eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted.
“So…” Naruto breathed, his voice shaky. “Does… does this mean you…?”
Sasuke let out a soft huff, a real, genuine sound of amusement. His hand was still cupping Naruto’s jaw, his thumb stroking absently along his cheekbone. “Yes, you absolute moron. It means I do.”
“But… you never said anything! You just let me freak out for weeks!”
“It was entertaining,” Sasuke said, a faint smirk finally gracing his features. “And I was waiting for you to catch up. You’re notoriously slow.”
“You’re the worst,” Naruto grumbled, but he was beaming, a brilliant, sun-bright smile that lit up his whole face. He didn’t let go of Sasuke’s shirt.
“And you’re still a dead-last,” Sasuke retorted, but he was leaning in again, his forehead coming to rest against Naruto’s.
The gesture was so intimate, so profoundly comfortable, that it felt more significant than the kiss itself.
They stood there for a long moment, in the middle of their messy dorm room, surrounded by discarded ramen cups and textbooks, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
The rivalry, the friendship, the bickering—it was all still there. But now, woven through it all, was something new, something tender and fierce and terrifyingly bright.
Naruto finally understood.
They weren't just roommates. They weren't just rivals. They were this. Whatever this was. And he had a feeling it was going to be the greatest rivalry of them all.
The world had realigned.
The sun shone brighter, the ramen tasted better, and the cramped dorm room felt less like a cell and more like a sanctuary.
For Naruto, the constant, buzzing anxiety had been replaced by a giddy, humming joy.
He and Sasuke were… well, they were them, but more. So much more.
The bickering remained, of course. It was their native language.
“You used all the hot water again, dobe.”
“It’s not my fault you take showers that are longer than most movies, teme!”
But now, the insults were punctuated by soft touches.
A hand brushing against a lower back as they passed in the narrow space between their beds. Fingers tangling together for a fleeting moment when Naruto handed Sasuke a cup of coffee.
It was a secret language of their own, a thrilling, private world existing right under everyone’s noses.
Naruto, however, had one firm, unshakeable rule.
They were walking back from the library, shoulders bumping, when Kiba and Akamaru intercepted them.
“Hey, losers! Where you headed?” Kiba asked, Akamaru barking in agreement.
“Dorm,” Naruto said, his voice a little too casual.
“Cool, I’ll come with. I gotta grab that textbook I lent you,” Kiba said, falling into step beside them.
His eyes, sharp and canine-like, darted between them. “You two seem… chill. Naruto, you’re not being all weird and twitchy anymore. Did you finally get laid or something?”
Naruto choked on air, his face instantly flushing a brilliant scarlet. “W-What? No! Shut up!”
Sasuke, walking on Naruto’s other side, remained impassive, but Naruto saw the faintest twitch of his lips.
“We’re just roommates,” Naruto blurted out, the words now a familiar, automatic shield. “Right, Sasuke?”
Sasuke slid his hands into his pockets, his expression the picture of bored indifference. “If you say so.”
Kiba’s eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh. Just roommates. Who walk so close they’re practically sharing a jacket. Sure.”
He leaned in, sniffing the air dramatically. “Nope, don’t smell any lies on you, Akamaru, but something’s definitely up.”
“Nothing’s up!” Naruto insisted, his voice cracking. “We’re roommates! That’s it! End of story!”
They reached the dorm, and Naruto practically fled inside, busying himself with the monumental task of rearranging his ramen cup collection.
Kiba lingered by the door, his gaze fixed on Sasuke, who had calmly sat at his desk and opened a book.
“You know,” Kiba said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “For a guy who’s ‘just a roommate,’ you’re looking awfully pleased with yourself, Uchiha.”
Sasuke didn’t look up from his book. “The alternative is listening to you. My current situation is preferable.”
Kiba barked a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.” He grabbed his textbook from Naruto’s desk.
“See you later, roommates.” He emphasized the word with a knowing smirk before leaving, Akamaru giving one last, suspicious whuff in their direction.
The door clicked shut. The silence in the room was deafening.
Naruto let out a huge breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “He knows. He totally knows.”
Sasuke finally looked up, turning in his chair to face Naruto. “And?”
“And?!” Naruto sputtered, waving his arms. “He can’t know! He’ll tell everyone! It’ll be a whole thing! There’ll be… I don’t know… questions! And teasing! So much teasing!”
“We endure teasing daily. Your existence is an exercise in enduring my teasing,” Sasuke said dryly.
“This is different!” Naruto flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. “I just… I like this. It’s ours. I don’t wanna share it with Kiba’s big mouth yet.”
Sasuke watched him for a long moment, the fondness in his gaze so stark it was a miracle Naruto couldn’t feel it from across the room. He understood.
This fragile, new thing between them felt too precious to be thrown to the wolves of their social circle just yet.
Naruto’s blustering denials weren’t rejection; they were protection.
He stood up and walked over to Naruto’s bed, looking down at him. “You’re an idiot.”
Naruto pouted. “You already used that one today.”
“It bears repeating.” Sasuke sat on the edge of the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip. “We don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready.”
Naruto’s pout softened. He looked up at Sasuke, at his stupidly perfect face and his stupidly intense eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Sasuke leaned down, bracing a hand on the pillow next to Naruto’s head. “But your ‘just roommates’ act is painfully unconvincing.”
“It is not!” Naruto protested, but his protest was cut short as Sasuke closed the distance and kissed him.
It was different from the first time—less tentative, more sure.
It was a kiss that spoke of shared secrets and private jokes, of bickering over popcorn and comfortable silences.
When they parted, Naruto was grinning, all his anxiety forgotten.
“Okay, maybe it’s a little unconvincing,” he admitted, his voice breathy.
“A little,” Sasuke agreed, his thumb tracing the whisker marks on Naruto’s cheek.
“But we’re still roommates,” Naruto insisted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Sasuke sighed, a long-suffering, exaggerated sound, but the look in his eyes was pure affection. “Fine. Whatever you say.”
“And rivals!” Naruto added.
“Obviously.”
“And… this.” Naruto gestured vaguely between their faces.
Sasuke’s lips quirked. “And this.”
He settled back onto the bed, pulling Naruto against his side. Naruto went willingly, his head finding its familiar, rightful place on Sasuke’s shoulder, his arm slung across his waist.
It was the same position they’d been in a hundred times before, but now every point of contact was electric with meaning.
They were roommates.
They were rivals.
And they were something else entirely, a secret so wonderful Naruto wanted to hug it to his chest for just a little while longer.
Let Kiba or anyone be suspicious. The truth was right here, warm and solid in his arms, and for now, that was more than enough.
The End.