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The apartment is loud in the way only old friends can be—too much music, overlapping conversations, laughter that feels practiced but warm. Christmas lights blink along the walls, draped carelessly over framed photos from years ago. Someone has stacked coats in a pile by the door like they gave up halfway through organizing them.
Naruto almost doesn’t recognize it as Sakura’s place.
This time of year used to feel different—brighter, more alive. But lately, it’s been the opposite. Like some part of the season, or maybe himself, had quietly slipped away. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but it’s there, a hollow feeling under the noise.
Maybe that’s what this night is too, an attempt to fill a space he didn’t realize was empty, to find a version of himself he’s been missing.
He almost doesn’t recognize himself, either, standing there with a drink he didn’t choose, nodding along to a conversation he’s only half listening to, wearing a smile he’s been carrying all night because it feels easier than explaining anything.
High school reunions are strange like that. You show up as a version of yourself you think you should be, not necessarily the one you are.
Sakura had invited everyone with a vague message—Christmas party/reunion, don’t be boring—and somehow it had turned into a packed living room full of familiar strangers.
He scans the room then sees him.
Sasuke.
He’s standing near the window, half in shadow, listening more than he’s talking. A glass cradled loosely in one hand. His hair is shorter than Naruto remembers, neater, but it’s still unmistakably him. Still impossible to ignore.
Something in Naruto’s chest tightens.
They were friends in high school. Close in a way that never had a name.
Not best friends—not officially. Naruto had his own orbit, mostly Sakura, Gaara, Kiba, and Shikamaru. Sasuke existed just outside it with his own; Suigetsu with his sharp grin, Karin, distantly related to Naruto, and Jugo, calm in a way that unsettled people. They weren’t rivals with Naruto’s group. Just separate. Parallel lines that occasionally crossed.
Naruto never remembered choosing him.
It just happened.
They walked home together because they shared a train line, standing shoulder to shoulder on crowded platforms, trading complaints about exams and weather, sometimes saying nothing at all. They studied together because Naruto struggled to sit still and Sasuke understood things too quickly to mind explaining, patient in a way he wasn’t with anyone else. They sat next to each other in class because Naruto filled silence and Sasuke didn’t push him away.
Opposites, everyone said. Like it explained anything.
Naruto was loud while Sasuke was quiet, reckless while Sasuke was controlled. Naruto reached outward, always wanting more; more people, more movement, more noise. Sasuke held himself close, like he’d learned early what happened when you let too much show.
And somehow—they fit.
Naruto brought life into the spaces Sasuke left empty. Sasuke anchored Naruto when he burned too fast. They drifted toward each other without meaning to, without naming it, a constant pull neither of them acknowledged even as it shaped their days. It showed in small ways, Naruto saving a seat without thinking, Sasuke waiting when Naruto lagged behind, both of them assuming the other would be there.
That was the problem.
Because somewhere between scribbled notes passed during class and late-night messages about homework that turned into nothing at all, it became something Naruto didn’t know how to touch without breaking. Something too fragile to risk with a single wrong word.
People noticed.
Shikamaru once asked, too casually, if Naruto was ever going to figure it out. Kiba teased them whenever he noticed—an elbow to Naruto’s ribs when Sasuke lingered too close, a loud comment about finally admitting it that he never followed up on. Sakura watched them both with knowing eyes, saying nothing at all.
No one ever said anything out loud.
Sasuke never crossed the invisible line. Naruto never pushed.
Graduation came anyway.
Life pulled them in different directions.
It never became anything.
Sasuke went abroad for college. Naruto stayed behind for exactly six months before bolting to Tokyo, chasing work and the promise of becoming someone impressive, anything that kept him from wondering what might have happened if he’d been braver.
They’d promised to keep in touch. They hadn’t.
Naruto takes a breath and looks away, focusing instead on the cluttered coffee table, the laughter spilling from the kitchen, the music that’s a little too loud. He tells himself he’s fine. He tells himself this is just nostalgia playing tricks on him.
“Hi.”
Naruto freezes.
He’d know that voice anywhere. It’s changed—lower, calmer—but it still carries the same gravity that used to pull him in without asking permission. It hits him all at once, memory and sensation tangled together, and for a split second he’s eighteen again, standing on a train platform with his shoulder brushing Sasuke’s.
He turns.
For a second, Naruto thinks his brain is playing a trick on him, memory overlaying the present, past bleeding into now. Then Sasuke is actually there, standing close enough that Naruto has to tilt his head up slightly to meet his eyes.
Sasuke looks… different. Older, obviously. Sharper around the edges, calmer in a way that feels earned. His expression is neutral, carefully so, but his eyes are too alert, too focused, like he’s been bracing himself for this exact moment and still isn’t sure how to stand in it.
Naruto’s mouth goes dry.
“Hey.” Naruto eventually says back, his voice almost unfamiliar to himself.
That’s all they say.
For a beat, the noise around them fades. The music softens, the chatter dims, and Naruto’s mind skips back— Sasuke rolling his eyes as Naruto teased him in class, their elbows bumping over a shared textbook, the silent moments when words felt too heavy.
Sasuke’s eyes meet his, pulling Naruto back just as they always did.
Naruto notices a flush on Sasuke’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. Maybe the drink, or maybe something else.
Close enough, Naruto catches the faint scent he remembers—clean soap, cedar—threads of the past woven into the present.
Sasuke seems about to speak, but a voice pulls him away. Jugo on his shoulder.
The moment breaks. Sasuke turns, then glances back with a small, apologetic look.
“I’ll—” he starts, then stops. “Later.”
And just like that, he steps back, retreating into the crowd, swallowed by the noise and the space between them.
Naruto lingers longer than he means to, staring at the empty spot where Sasuke stood, his heart thudding loud enough to drown out the room’s chatter, surprised by how much was left unsaid.
Naruto thinks that will be it.
It isn’t.
The night stretches on, fueled by nostalgia and alcohol. Stories get louder, funnier, exaggerated, everyone is getting tipsier. Sakura finds an old photo album and insists on commentary, scrolling through grainy snapshots of awkward haircuts and questionable fashion choices. Naruto laughs when he’s supposed to, offers the right reactions, but his attention keeps slipping.
Halfway through the night, Kiba suggests a game.
“Absolutely not,” Sakura says immediately.
“Oh, come on,” Kiba insists, already grabbing an empty bottle with a grin that spells trouble. “It’s tradition.”
“Tradition of what?” Ino asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Poor decisions,” Kiba says with a mischievous smirk.
Groans ripple through the room, but no one actually says no. The music gets turned down. People settle into a loose circle, on the couch, on the floor, wherever there’s space and elbow room.
Naruto sits cross-legged against the couch, drink balanced precariously on his knee. Sasuke remains standing for a moment, arms folded, clearly unimpressed, before finally lowering himself to the floor a few feet away.
The bottle spins.
Laughter, teasing, a few easy truths spilled into the circle, a few dares that are mostly harmless.
Then the bottle lands on Naruto.
“Oh, this is perfect,” Kiba says, grinning like he’s won the lottery. “Truth or dare?”
Naruto narrows his eyes. “I don’t like your tone.” He hesitates, truth seems like the safer choice, but looking at Kiba’s mischievous smile, he knows it won’t stay simple—Kiba will probably push him to say something about Sasuke.
So instead, Naruto says, “Dare.”
“Kiss Sasuke,” Kiba says anyway, the grin growing wider, the room buzzing in anticipation.
The room erupts—laughter, hoots, and a few playful groans.
Naruto sputters. “Kiss Sa–no!”
“What?” Kiba says, pretending to be offended. “It’s harmless.”
Naruto’s brain is scrambling. Did he really just say that? His heart is doing a ridiculous tap dance in his chest. He wants to say no, hard and fast. But somewhere between the laughter and the flashing eyes, he feels the weight of all those years—not just the dare, but everything between them.
“Absolutely not,” Naruto says, louder this time, voice laced with frustration. The group’s teasing only grows louder, circling him like a wave.
“Do it, Naruto!” Kiba shouts with a grin. “Come on, it’s just a kiss!”
“Yeah, don’t chicken out now!” Ino adds, nudging him playfully.
“Just one kiss,” Suigetsu chants, the others joining in, voices rising in a teasing chorus.
Naruto feels the pressure mounting, their voices overlapping, relentless. Karin watches from Sasuke’s side, a sly smirk playing on her lips as her eyes flick between Naruto and Sasuke, silently egging Sasuke on with a knowing glance.
Sasuke exhales deeply, irritation clear on his face. He pushes himself to his feet, glass in hand, the faint clink against the table sounding louder than it should.
“Can we just get it over with?” Sasuke’s voice is low but steady, edged with annoyance, like he’s bracing himself for a moment he’d rather avoid. Naruto catches the flicker of something sharper in his eyes, a flash of offense—as if being dared to kiss him is a slight.
Naruto stares, disbelief flashing through him. “You’re acting like this is no big deal.”
Sasuke’s jaw tightens, his posture stiffening. “It doesn’t have to be,” he replies quietly, but his body language betrays him.
Slowly, Sasuke steps closer—too close—and for a heartbeat, the room falls away. It’s just the two of them, the weight of years pressing in.
“Well?” Sasuke whispers. “Kiss me already.”
The teasing around Naruto swells again, louder and more insistent. Voices chant and hoot, overlapping:
“Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him!”
“Just do it, Naruto, don’t be such a loser!”
“Love is such a youthful thing, you don’t have to be ashamed—”
Naruto’s head goes fuzzy under the pressure. The teasing, the past, the expectations—it all hits him at once. His heart pounds, breath shallow, thoughts tangled.
Then, without thinking, he cuts through the noise.
“—Not like this!” The words tear out of him as he straightens the rest of the way, panic driving him to his feet.
Wait, what? Naruto’s pulse roars in his ears. Did I really just—
For half a second, no one reacts. It’s like the room glitches—music still playing, lights blinking, but everyone frozen mid-breath. Mouths hang open. Someone’s laugh dies abruptly, cut short.
Heat floods his face. Standing now only makes it worse, he can feel every set of eyes on him, their attention heavy and unrelenting. He opens his mouth, panic clawing up his throat, and the rest spills out in a rush, messy and unplanned.
“Not because someone dared me,” he blurts. “I-I mean, not because everyone’s watching. Or, uh—” He swallows hard. “N-not like it doesn’t mean anything!”
The silence deepens.
Naruto immediately wants to take it back.
He sees Karin’s teasing grin falter, her expression shifting into something more intent as her gaze falls on Sasuke. Around them, the energy of the room has changed—less playful now, more tense, like everyone’s suddenly aware they’ve stumbled into something private.
Sasuke hasn’t moved.
He’s still standing there, close enough that Naruto can see the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers curl faintly at his side. His eyes are dark, searching Naruto’s face like he’s trying to read something he’s been afraid to ask.
“…It would mean something?” Sasuke says quietly.
The question lands like a dropped glass.
Naruto’s breath stutters.
He can’t answer that here. Not with everyone watching, not with his heart trying to punch its way out of his chest. If he opens his mouth again, he’s afraid he’ll say too much—or nothing at all.
Before anyone else can break the moment, before Kiba can laugh or Sakura can intervene or someone can turn it back into a joke, Naruto moves.
He steps forward and reaches out, fingers closing around Sasuke’s wrist.
“We’re—” Naruto starts, then shakes his head, words failing him. “Come on.”
Sasuke blinks, startled. “Naruto—”
Naruto doesn’t stop. He pulls, firm and impulsive, already turning away. There’s a moment of hesitation, and then Sasuke follows.
The room erupts behind them in confused noise, voices overlapping—
“Wait, what just—”
“Are they—?”
“Oh my god—”
Naruto doesn’t look back.
They weave through the apartment, past the kitchen, past half-closed doors and discarded coats. Naruto’s heart is hammering so hard he feels lightheaded. He doesn’t slow down until they reach a quieter corner beneath a low archway, half-hidden from the main room.
A sprig of mistletoe hangs above them, slightly crooked, catching the glow of the Christmas lights.
Naruto lets go of Sasuke’s wrist like it’s burned him.
For a moment, neither of them speaks.
The muffled sounds of the party hum in the distance, just loud enough to remind Naruto that they’re not completely alone—but far enough away that the space between them feels… intimate.
“I—” Naruto starts, then stops. He drags a hand through his hair, laughing weakly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—I just couldn’t do that. Not there.”
Sasuke watches him carefully, expression guarded again, like shutters sliding back into place. “You didn’t answer me,” he says.
Naruto winces. “I know.”
Silence stretches.
Sasuke looks away first. “So what was that?” His voice is controlled, but there’s an edge to it. “Because it sounded like you were saying it mattered. And then you ran.”
Naruto’s chest tightens. “I didn’t run. I—” He exhales, frustrated. “Okay, maybe I did. But not from you.”
Sasuke’s eyes flick back to him. “Then what? Are you just messing with me?”
Naruto frowns. “I wasn’t trying to mess with you!”
“Then what were you doing?”
Naruto avoids his eyes. “Trying not to screw it up.”
Sasuke lets out a short breath. “By acting like kissing me would be a mistake?”
“That’s not why I—I just didn’t want you to be dared into kissing me! I thought you hated me!”
That catches Sasuke off guard, his voice comes out a whisper, “...What? Hated you?”
Naruto almost rolls his eyes, “Yeah. It’s just—you didn’t reach out after graduating. So, I dunno, just thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.” Naruto brushes the tinge of hurt with a shrug, feigning nonchalance.
Sasuke swallows the lump in his throat. “I didn’t leave because I hate you—did you seriously—” He cuts himself off, irritation bleeding through. “You didn’t try reaching out to me either, so don’t put that all on me.”
Naruto bristles immediately. “But I kinda did?”
Sasuke scoffs. “When?”
Naruto hesitates. Just for a second. Then he rubs at the back of his neck, defensive. “After graduation. At first, I thought you were just… busy. We said we’d keep in touch.” He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “I figured you were settling in, or mad, or—something.”
Sasuke’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I tried calling,” Naruto adds, quieter. “Texted a few times. You never answered.” He shrugs like it doesn’t matter, like it didn’t sit heavy in his chest for months. “Then I found out, way later, that you’d moved. Abroad. College and all that.”
Sasuke’s brows knit. “You found out like that?”
“Yeah,” Naruto snaps. “Not from you.”
A beat.
“So I stopped trying,” Naruto continued, words coming faster now. “And yeah, I asked. I kept asking how you were.”
Sasuke frowns. “Asked who?”
Naruto shifts his weight, suddenly very interested in the floor. “Karin. Whenever we ran into each other. She’d dodge it. Say you were busy. Didn’t really say much when I asked how you were doing.”
That stops Sasuke cold.
“…Karin?” he repeats slowly. “Why would she—” He cuts himself off, something dawning. “Wait.” His eyes flick back to Naruto. “You asked about me?”
Naruto looks up, frowning. “Yeah? Whenever we ran into each other.” Then, quieter, almost defensive: “I figured if you wanted me to know more, you’d… say something.”
Sasuke stares at him, a flicker of something raw crossing his face. “She never told me that.”
Naruto lets out a hollow laugh. “Yeah. Well. She never told me anything either.”
Silence drops between them, thick and uncomfortable. Not empty — just crowded with all the moments that went wrong.
“So you just decided I hated you,” Sasuke says finally.
Naruto shrugs, but it’s weaker now. “You left without a word. Changed everything. Didn’t even tell me where you were going.” His jaw tightens. “I didn’t think you owed me an explanation, but… yeah. I figured you didn’t want me around.”
Sasuke exhales slowly. “I changed my number when I moved,” he admits. “New plan. New country. I thought—” He stops, licking his lips. “I thought you’d hear. Or that you didn’t care.”
Naruto’s head snaps up. “You thought I didn’t care?”
Sasuke breaks eye contact. “You stopped trying.”
Naruto laughs once. “Because I thought you’d already decided I wasn’t worth telling.”
That lands. Hard.
The silence that follows isn’t angry anymore. They both shift, unsure how to fill the quiet.
After a moment, Sasuke speaks again, quieter. “We really just… let it sit there. Years. Over nothing.”
Naruto lets out a breath that sounds more like a laugh and rubs a hand over his face. “It didn’t feel like nothing back then.” He swallows. “It felt like if I said the wrong thing, I’d lose you completely.”
Sasuke’s gaze flicks to him. “You lost me anyway.”
The words aren’t cruel. Just tired. Honest. Almost bitter.
Naruto nods once, accepting the hit. “Yeah.”
Silence again.
“We’re idiots,” Sasuke mutters.
Naruto huffs. “Massive.”
They share a brief laugh, the first real break in the tension. It fades quickly, but it loosens the tension between them.
Sasuke exhales, shoulders dropping a fraction. “I don’t want to keep doing that,” he says quietly. “Guessing. Assuming.”
Naruto nods. “Me neither.”
Another beat.
Sasuke clears his throat, clearly forcing himself forward. “So. Back there.”
Naruto stiffens instinctively. “Sasuke—”
“You said not like this,” Sasuke continued. He doesn’t look at him when he says it. “It sounded like you were saying you didn’t want to.”
Naruto exhales slowly. “That’s not what I meant.”
Sasuke finally glances over, guarded again. “Then what did you mean?”
Naruto opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again. “What it really meant.” Naruto says. “I didn’t want the kiss—our kiss–to be like that. A dare. A game.” He hesitates, then adds, quieter, “Or like it was something you’d regret five minutes later.”
Sasuke’s shoulders tense. “You think I would regret it? ”
“I didn’t know how you’d feel about it,” Naruto shoots back, then winces. “I mean— I didn’t know if I was something you’d care about.”
Sasuke looks away again. “You didn’t exactly give me time to prove otherwise.”
Naruto huffs. “You told me to kiss you like it didn’t mean anything.”
Sasuke’s jaw tightens. “That wasn’t—” He stops, exhales. “That’s just how I talk.”
“Yeah, well,” Naruto mutters, “it sounded like you didn’t want it to matter.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
Sasuke speaks carefully, like he’s testing each word. “It mattered.” He swallows. “I just didn’t think you’d want it to.”
Naruto blinks. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Sasuke lets out a short, dry laugh, cheeks faintly coloring with a mix of embarrassment and something like regret. “You moved on. You built a life. I was… just out of sight.”
“That doesn’t mean I stopped—” Naruto cuts himself off, face heating. He shakes his head. “See? This is why I didn’t want to do it like that.”
Sasuke watches him closely. “You wanted it to mean something.”
Naruto answers almost immediately. “Yeah.”
The word hangs between them.
Sasuke nods once, slowly. “I didn’t think you’d still…” He trails off, voice soft. “…feel anything.”
Naruto laughs quietly, not amused. “We’re really bad at this, huh.”
Sasuke exhales. “Seems like it.”
They don’t move closer. Don’t reach out. The distance stays — but it’s different now. Less defensive.
“I didn’t say no,” Naruto says finally. “I just didn’t want it to be nothing.”
Sasuke nods again. “Okay.”
Not agreement. Not resolution. Just understanding — rough and incomplete.
They stand there, awkward and unsure, both painfully aware that whatever this is… it isn’t over. And it isn’t simple.
“Well,” Sasuke adds, quieter, ears faintly pink, “I didn’t say no either.”
Naruto blinks, unsure if he’s seeing what he’s seeing — or hearing what he’s hearing. “Wait, are you saying—”
Sasuke rolls his eyes, more at himself than anything else, like he’s done being careful. Then he steps forward and grabs Naruto by the collar, tugging him in.
The kiss is clumsy at first, a startled sound swallowed between them, like they’re both bracing for something to go wrong. Like they’re checking, one last time, that this is real.
Naruto’s hand comes up immediately, cupping Sasuke’s cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His palm is warm, steady, thumb resting just beneath Sasuke’s eye. Sasuke inhales sharply at the touch, then leans in, closing the last inch between them.
Their lips meet softly, a brief press that sends a quiet rush through Naruto’s chest. Sasuke’s mouth is warm, slightly hesitant, before he settles into it, kissing back with slow intention. Naruto follows the movement without thinking, tilting his head, letting the contact deepen, lips brushing again, lingering this time.
It’s gentle but real, the kind of kiss that makes his pulse slow instead of race, warmth spreading through him as the uncertainty finally starts to fade.
When they part, they don’t move away. Foreheads hover close, breaths uneven, the space between them humming with everything that finally found its way out.
“…Better,” Sasuke murmurs.
Naruto exhales, something in his chest loosening at last. A shaky smile tugs at his mouth. “Yeah.”
For a brief moment, everything feels slow.
Then, almost quietly, Naruto blinks, heart thudding louder than the distant music. “Wait…so you like me? Like, really like me?”
Sasuke’s eyes flicker with something softer than usual—something like relief mixed with a quiet smile tugging at his lips. He shrugs, but there’s no doubt in his voice when he says, “Yeah. I do.”
Naruto’s smile grows, a warmth spreading through him like the first glow of a winter dawn. He exhales, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over him. “Me too.”
Not fixed. Not easy. But no longer unfinished.
Naruto glances up and lets out a quiet huff of a laugh when he notices the mistletoe hanging above them. “Guess we couldn’t even get out of that one.”
Sasuke follows his gaze, then lets out a small, rare laugh — soft, almost disbelieving. “Maybe we shouldn’t try to.”
For the first time in years, the space between them doesn’t feel like a mistake or a loss — but something hard-won, and finally real enough to hold onto.
They don’t go back inside.
Instead, their fingers intertwine as they take the stairs down, coats forgotten, stepping out into the cold night like it’s an extension of the moment rather than an escape. The street is quiet, washed in soft orange light, snow piled carefully at the edges of the sidewalk, crisp in the stillness.
The crisp winter air greets them, but it doesn’t bother them—not when everything else suddenly feels right.
Naruto looks over at Sasuke, eyes bright in the glow of the streetlamps. “I… I’ve missed this. Missed you.”
Sasuke’s usual guardedness softens as he squeezes Naruto’s hand. The warmth radiating from Sasuke’s grip feels surprisingly cozy against the chill, like a quiet shelter from the cold. “Me too.”
They walk slowly, side by side, hands still linked, words starting to fill the empty spaces.
They talk—really talk—for the first time in years. About missed calls and unsent messages. About assumptions that calcified into distance. About how life kept moving even when something important stayed unresolved.
“Maybe,” Naruto says after a pause, “we can take this slow. Learn each other again. See where it goes.”
Sasuke nods, his breath visible in the cold night. “I’d like that.”
The night feels alive with possibility, like the world outside is holding its breath with them. The soft crunch of snow underfoot, the distant glow of holiday lights—their own small miracle.
Naruto smiles, heart lighter than it’s been in years. It takes him a second to realize he hasn’t said it yet. “Oh, Merry Christmas, Sasuke.”
Sasuke’s brows lift in surprise, then he lets out a small, surprised laugh, warmth flickering through his expression. “Merry Christmas, Naruto.”
Naruto breathes in the cold air, the quiet night wrapping around them like something gentle and unexpected. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding back, how much space inside him felt incomplete.
Tonight feels different, with Sasuke close, the distance between them seems to shrink, just a little.
It’s only after that Naruto really thinks about it — the bottle, the not-so stupid dare, the way everything cracked open at a party of all places. He huffs a quiet laugh. Figures.
A quiet warmth settles in Naruto’s chest, something like relief mixed with hope. This slow unfolding of something real, after so long, feels unexpectedly welcome—like a small gift found tucked away in the quiet moments of the season.
For the first time in years, Naruto breathes a little easier, feeling like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.