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When he finally reached the end of the hallway, Sasuke urgently inserted his key into his door and, with the turn of the knob, was reunited at last with his dark and quiet apartment, where it smelled of lavender and not like mushroom risotto or beef stroganoff. He didn’t have to hear the petulant complaints of his oh-so-compassionate customers and the lambastings from his manager telling him to stop calling them ‘customers’ and instead call them ‘guests.’
Sasuke closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he entered his bedroom and was hit with the glorious scent of fresh linen. He undid his black button-up shirt and dress trousers in exchange for a long-sleeved V-neck and loose pants, the outfit change slightly lifting his mood.
Being a waiter at a relatively high-end restaurant was tough given the clientele. Still, these past few days had been horrid due to the anticipation of the 14th, and instead of the back-of-house waiting for the actual day to showcase their specials, their head chef, Gai, decided on a whim to create a whole Valentine’s Week, which was only accepted because the owner saw the potential profit she could garner from it. Needless to say, Sasuke’s brain turned into complete mush at the end of every shift; he was grateful he only worked in the afternoon on Saturdays because those days, from what he had heard, were like an undiscovered tenth circle of hell.
He opened his phone and frowned—there were no new messages. This would usually be the norm for him, but after exchanging numbers with someone almost a week ago, he was expecting at least a call back. And in his defense, he did make an attempt to text him, but his phone died, and ever since, he hadn’t had the time or energy to contact him. God forbid he be an employed 24-year-old and a part-time student fending for himself in the city—shit’s hard, and ironically, Sasuke Uchiha had his priorities straight.
As he was about to close his phone and settle down for the night, the screen turned gray, and he was met with a generic ringtone and an unknown number. With half a mind, his thumb accidentally pressed the green button, and with a slew of whispered curses exiting his lips, he reluctantly put the phone to his ear without saying a word and heard a strong, obviously fake, country accent going on about his health insurance and how he needed to state his full name, his debit card information, and blah blah blah. Sasuke had enough sense to hang up and block them without wasting his breath.
He put his phone away and tucked himself into bed. And for a moment, he was at peace. Well, as much peace as living in a bustling city could give him. Then there came that ringing again. The drowsy man hoped that if he ignored it, it would go away on its own. When it didn’t, he reached for his phone and pressed the green button in the process again—he cursed slightly louder this time. It was some guy trying to convince someone’s grandma that he was her son and needed her to bail him out of jail, or something. Sasuke didn’t really know for sure because he zoned out midway through and blocked the caller.
When it happened the third time, he grabbed his phone and marched his way over to the kitchen, where he opened his cupboard and pulled out a pot and pan gifted to him by his older brother a few months back. Would this get him a noise complaint? Probably. Was he in a mental state to give a shit? Absolutely not. He placed his phone on the counter and, on purpose this time, picked up the call and put it on speaker. The person on the other end didn’t even get to say ‘hello’ when they were greeted with the loud ruckus of Sasuke’s stainless steel wrath. They clashed together at a consistent tempo with no intention of stopping until the caller hung up first.
“Hey, what the fuck, dude!” The voice on the other end cried out in multiple variations in the midst of Sasuke’s unforgiving clamor, which had left the haggard man slightly impressed at how persistent this scammer was. “Hello? Sasuke? This is your number, right? What the hell is going on!”
The clanging stopped as soon as he heard his name. How did the caller know his name? And why did they sound so…familiar? The pot and pan in his hands were only an inch or two away from colliding again before he put them down on the counter and picked his phone back up, wary and suspicious.
“Hello?” Sasuke quietly cleared his throat to soothe his gritty voice he hadn’t properly used since he got home from his shift.
There was quiet for a beat before the exasperated tone from the phone turned into one of a marginally gentler quality. “Yeah, hello? Is this Sasuke?”
He nodded instinctively, realized what he was doing, and then mentally smacked himself on the head until finally replying, “Yes. Who is this?”
A winded exhale came from the caller, “Oh, thank god! I kept texting you, but my messages weren’t coming through. Anyway—”
“I’m sorry, but who is this?” That voice was so, so recognizable to Sasuke, but he was far too tired for any bells to ring in his mind.
“Ah—right, sorry.” They let out an audibly pitiful chuckle before continuing, “It’s Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki. We, um, we had lunch together last week? I was just calling to ask if you wanted to come with me to the Konoha Fair tomorrow for Valentine’s Day? I heard there’ll be fireworks, and a friend of mine’s helping out with organizing everything so she can reserve us a good spot to watch them from. The fireworks, that is. Ah—unless you’re busy with your shift, which is totally cool, you know! Just, yeah, let me know or whatever, or not—that’s fine too. Ha ha…um…are you…Are you still there?”
Much like how Achilles plunged a spear into Hector’s throat and dragged his lifeless body by his heels around Troy with his chariot, Sasuke had a sudden, inexplicable desire to plunge a boning knife into his throat and drag his lifeless body by his heels against the concrete with his Honda. He already had Suigetsu on speed dial; he could plan something right now.
Speaking of the now, the exhaustion in his body had practically vanished the second the caller identified themself to be the person he had a romantic interest in—the guy who constantly got under Sasuke’s skin and was a regular at his section at work. And yet, behind the bickering and senseless arguing, there was a level of connection between the young men, as if the contrast in his unapproachable demeanor and Naruto’s burningly bright presence was unified by a bridge of unspoken understanding. Then soon enough, every interaction became an excuse to learn more about the other, and slowly, Sasuke took notice of his customer’s saturated blue eyes, how toned his arms were, and the way his smile could lighten up his week. And then the blonde had asked to eat with him on his lunch break. That connection—it was ineffable. It was something Sasuke had never felt before.
And there he was, smacking his cookware together at 10 pm like a maniac because his tired, idiotic self failed to put a name under his hot crush’s number.
“Holy shit, I am so sorry.” Sasuke finally found his voice and the balls to not kill himself. He sat on the kitchen floor; whatever composed and confident persona he presented toward the blonde was beyond saving at that point. “I thought you were a scam caller. I didn’t—I forgot to save your number. I was so tired that day, and it completely slipped my mind.”
Upon hearing the uncharacteristically frazzled man’s admission, Naruto couldn’t help but burst out laughing uncontrollably, which made the other’s already red face blush even harder. At the same time, though, hearing his laughter felt like basking in the first ray of sunlight, so Sasuke’s previous urge to jump off his two-story apartment balcony was quelled at least the tiniest bit.
“Wow,” he wheezed, “I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or offended, asshole.”
“I’m sorry.” Sasuke’s mouth spoke by itself.
Naruto cackled again, “Don’t be! Oh my god, am I crying? I think I’m crying—one second. I think I like you even more now, if that was even possible!”
“Literally just shut the hell up right now.”
“You know me well enough to know that I won’t.” His voice steadied a bit more as he took some deep breaths. “Man, I was so nervous when I called you. And when I heard Hell reimagined, I wanted to both laugh and cry because I thought you gave me some random person’s number and that I misread the vibes from last week!”
Sasuke grunted, a small pout creeping up his lips, “What vibes?”
He could hear the other’s throat close up in his phone, “Wait…shit, did I actually—”
“I’m kidding, dumbass,” he snorted, feeling a bit more like himself again, to his relief. “And it’s 10 pm. Who the hell asks someone out at 10 pm on a date for the next day?”
“Oh, fuck you, jackass!” Naruto yelled into his phone without any real irritation, “I didn’t know about the event until today, and I just got back home from work. Give me a break! So, are you free or not?”
“Depends.” Sasuke slowly stood back up and was carrying his cookware back into the cupboard as he spoke, “Are you going to keep on making fun of me?”
“No promises.”
“Then, no.”
“Okay, okay! I won’t, I swear.”
He let out a low, sultry hum as he thought about the date, which was met with Naruto clearing his throat on the other end. “Does 6 pm work for you?”
The blonde exhaled out of his nose, his smile so obvious that Sasuke could hear it from his tone, “6 pm it is.”