Summary: Looking for a moment of self-gratification to take his mind from a recent break-up and slump in his work, Naruto finds himself flipping through a gay bondage magazine… only to find the person he least expected as the centerfold: Uchiha Sasuke - the asexual "no one touches me" heartthrob he'd gone to high school with. NaruSasu

A/N: This fic is a birthday fic for BriEva. It is an enormous oneshot, so I had to split it into two chapters. Second part is finished (even Beta'd!) and will post that on the 23rd in honor of NaruSasu day. Also thanks to IntoMyFantasy for her suggestions as well! Please note that due to FF's rules about no explicit smut, I have edited the second chapter of this to meet the ToS. If you wish to read the full version, it is up on Ao3 dot org, just search under KizuKatana.

-xXx-

Naruto looked at the half-finished canvas in front of him and sighed. The light in the studio was all wrong, and he was definitely not feeling inspired. He carefully covered his paint pallet so the colors wouldn't dry, then wrapped his brushes in some plastic wrap to keep them fresh while he took a break.

He stretched his arms over his head, and tried to decide if he was hungry or not. Nothing really seemed appealing. He looked out one of the three large windows that made up the majority of the wall in his small studio apartment.

Originally, the place had been reserved just for his painting, but after he'd broken up with his girlfriend three weeks ago, he'd moved in here permanently. It didn't have much of a kitchen, just a sink, a refrigerator and a microwave. Though he wasn't much of a cook anyway, so he supposed it didn't matter. He had a futon in the corner of the main room that served as his bedroom and all his clothes were still in boxes, since the apartment didn't have any closets and the dresser had been Sakura's.

Sakura.

The break-up had definitely been mutual. He didn't hate her and she didn't hate him. But they had also never loved each other either, and after two years of dating, it had become painfully clear that they never would. He smiled slightly wistfully at the times they'd had together. He needed someone with a strong personality to deal with him, given that he was always all over the place with his life, emotions, and ambitions.

Sakura had been great in those regards, ever ready to give him a cuff to the back of his head when he was being ridiculous, but also sharing his excitement when he did something great. But at the end of it all, what they really were was just good friends. It had been painful to the both of them to admit it, but they had agreed that they wanted to find something more with someone else.

Naruto was an artist. He was inspired by beauty and passion and strong emotions. The fact that he was missing those elements in his love life had left him slowly feeling empty. Over the past year, his paintings had slowly turned darker and grayer as his inspiration had dried up… and finally they weren't even coming at all. It had been months since he'd completed anything. He shot a glare at the unfinished canvas, as though it were at fault for his lack of inspiration.

Hinata was the owner of the gallery that sold most of his art, and even she had begun to get more pointed about her enquiries on when his next series would be ready and whether the content would still draw the sales that his older works had.

Naruto wasn't quite world-famous, but he was well-known in the area and his reputation had been growing steadily. He'd moved to Tokyo from Konoha when he'd graduated high school, attending University there and majoring in the fine arts. The thriving art community had embraced him and his works, and he hadn't left after graduating. He was good enough that he could make a living off his art, something that not many artists could say. And he was appreciative of the luck that had enabled him to do so up until now. But there was no denying that he had been in a slump of late. He drew a breath, scrubbing his paint-stained fingers through his hair. There was no point in beating himself up over it. He couldn't force inspiration to return.

But he was restless. He looked out the window again, the gray of the sky reflecting his own emotional state. He needed to get out of the apartment. His friends all had 'real jobs', and since it was the middle of a workday, he'd have to entertain himself.

He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, stuffing his phone, keys, and wallet into his pockets before heading out. He took the steps down from his sixth floor loft, in no particular hurry and with no particular destination in mind. He turned randomly down the streets, his long familiarity with the city he'd lived in for the past six years making getting lost an impossibility.

He looked into the windows of shops as he passed, open to being tempted by food or a book… anything to distract him from the blasé feelings he had. He paused at a store that sold 'adult entertainment' before shrugging and heading inside. Having grown up with a man who wrote a significant number of the books lining the shelf in one corner of the shop, Naruto had none of the usual sense of embarrassment at entering such a place.

He glanced up at the shopkeeper, who nodded to him with familiarity. As usual, the man wore a mask over the lower half of his face, his mismatched eyes wearing an expression of bored amusement.

"Hey, Kakashi," Naruto said.

"Naruto! It's been awhile since you've been by," the man replied conversationally.

Naruto grinned and shrugged. Sakura had not been terribly excited about experimenting sexually. And to be honest, when they were together, he had lost a bit of interest as well. He hadn't found a new partner yet, though, so there was no point in looking at sex toys.

He wandered over to the magazine section. He didn't read a lot of porn, having pretty much gotten his quota when he was a young teen by borrowing books from his guardian's collection. Today, though, he needed a bit of stress relief and more importantly, he needed to think about something other than his ex-girlfriend when he did it.

He browsed through Hustler and Playboy, but they were all fairly tame and reminded him too much of his ex (minus the inflated balloon chests). No, he needed something at the opposite end of the spectrum. Naruto didn't have a strong sexual preference for men vs women. He liked interesting people, regardless of gender. He could recognize beauty in male or female forms. His eye caught on a magazine that was a bit more hard core, with a lot of male on male bondage and role play action.

He picked it up, flipping through it briefly before heading over to the counter to pay. Kakashi's eyebrows raised as he saw the cover, and Naruto just smirked and shrugged. "Looking for something new, I guess."

Kakashi took the cash that Naruto handed him, and placed the magazine into a discreet paper bag. "Enjoy," he said with an amused tone to his voice.

Naruto rolled his eyes and headed back to his apartment. Maybe he'd go out to one of the gay clubs tonight. Have some human interaction, a change of scene... something that didn't have to do with his failed love life and stalled out career.

When he got back to his apartment, he hung his jacket on the hook by the door and kicked off his shoes. He saw he'd missed a call from Hinata, and he played her message. She was informing him that some of his usual buyers had been asking when his next showing would be, and she wanted to know what to tell them.

Naruto sighed.

While it was good to be a popular artist, it also put pressure on him to produce which sometimes stressed him out. He walked over to the small stereo by his futon and put on some music. He needed to just not think for a while. He always drew inspiration for his art from life. He needed to shake himself out of this depression and find something to inspire him.

He lay down on the bed, listening to the music for a while. After a few minutes, he pulled out the magazine. Deciding he might as well do it properly, he dug in his bag for the Vaseline and tissues before lying back down.

The one nice thing about living alone was the complete privacy he had. No one would walk in and 'catch him in the act'. No one else had a key to the place. The thought made him relax rather than feel lonely. He adjusted the pillows, giving himself a comfortable position to lean against the wall. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, but didn't go any further. If he didn't see anything he liked, he didn't want to go through the trouble of getting dressed again for nothing.

He opened the magazine, taking his time flipping through, looking at each picture and sometimes even reading the short articles below. He could appreciate the photos both as a man who occasionally enjoyed having sex with other men and as an artist with an eye for beautiful lines.

He felt himself stir slightly at some of the photos, but nothing really held his interest. Though there was one of a man with short orange hair and multiple facial piercings that Naruto found pretty intriguing.

He kept going just in case there was something better. He wanted to take his time with it and relax. He reached the middle of the magazine where he knew the centerfold would be.

And froze.

There in all his naked glory, pale hand wrapped around a perfectly shaped, hard cock, was Mr. 'I'm asexual, no one better even think about touching me' from Naruto's old high school.

Uchiha Sasuke.

The boy who had been the object of Naruto's obsession for three years of high school until Sasuke had graduated and gone off to some prestigious college somewhere.

The boy who had made Naruto realize he swung both ways.

The boy Naruto had known he'd never have a chance in hell with, so had never even talked to… was now a man, spread naked in front of him, with a hand on his cock.

"Holy shit!" Naruto gaped, not sure whether shock or lust would win out. The heat pooling between his legs told him that, clearly, lust had won.

Naruto stared at the picture, wondering if this could be some sort of mistake. He had gone to a large high school in Konoha. Uchiha Sasuke had been a year ahead of him and they'd never had a single class together… never really spoke at all. His family drove him hard, and Sasuke had not allowed himself any mistakes, excelling at everything he did. Sasuke had been top of his class, class president, head of the debate team, and captain of the Judo club.

Naruto had been a mediocre student in everything but art and languages. He'd been the captain of the soccer team, and voted 'class clown'. He'd had a few girlfriends of his own back in high school, but nothing like the almost cultish following that Sasuke had had.

He had the most attractive girls and boys in their school literally throwing themselves at his feet, and he simply ignored them and walked right over them. The god of the school, Sasuke had shown no interest in anyone, sexually. Naruto had assumed he was either dating someone older and not in their school or simply had no interest in sex. Either way, he'd figured he had no chance. So he would let his gaze linger on the boy as he walked past and listen in on the rare times he could hear Sasuke talking with his friends, but that was as far as it had ever gone.

Sasuke had been… untouchable.

As far as Naruto knew, he only ever spoke to three people in school: Karin, Suigetsu and Juugo. Naruto had no idea if they'd all gone to college together or what had happened after. He'd never really thought about the boy after he had graduated, but if anyone had asked him, he would not have been surprised to find out that Sasuke had gone off to cure cancer or solve world hunger or rule the world through his sheer physical perfection.

How the hell had Uchiha Sasuke ended up in a hard core gay porn magazine?

Naruto realized he hadn't blinked in about five minutes, his eyes wide and locked on the glossy color image in front of him. Every repressed schoolboy fantasy he'd entertained about Sasuke suddenly poured into his mind's eye. Aside from being slightly taller and with a slightly thinner face, Sasuke hadn't really changed much in the seven years since Naruto had last seen him. His face was still flawless, every line sculpted as though to mock lesser beings. His black hair was still cut the same, longer in front with his bangs partially shadowing his eyes, while the back was short and stuck out in odd angles that made Naruto want to grab it.

But the thing that drew Naruto the most had always been the eyes. They had that same look that had always drawn Naruto in but also kept him away. Dark pools that seemed to look right through him with mocking arrogance, but with the shadow of loneliness that had always fascinated Naruto… made him want to reach out to him. Sasuke wore that same arrogant expression in the photo.

Even though the man must have known what people used photos like this for.

The thought suddenly bothered Naruto. Sasuke shouldn't be in this magazine in that crude pose. He shoved the lube and tissues aside, unused, setting the photo on the table he used for mixing his paints before checking that he had his wallet and keys and racing back down to Kakashi's shop. He'd forgotten his jacket and it had started to rain but he didn't care. He slammed into the adult shop, startling the storekeeper from his book and started flipping through every magazine, buying anything that had Sasuke in it. Kakashi looked on in bemusement but didn't complain when Naruto racked up a large bill before racing back to his apartment in the pouring rain with his precious cargo.

Inspiration hit him like a fever. His apartment's walls were covered with naked and half-naked photos of Sasuke, torn from their magazines and pinned to his walls. After filling two sketchpads with ideas, Naruto had ripped all of his previous 'works in progress' from their easels, throwing the half-filled canvases into a corner while he painted furiously.

The photos he'd found showed Sasuke's body and face from almost every angle, giving him plenty to work with. But he loathed the photos. Loathed how they made Sasuke look, though there were days when he couldn't take his eyes from them.

He locked himself in his studio for weeks, not answering any phone calls, his only meals coming from take-out, barely sleeping as he filled canvas after canvas with Sasuke. In most of them, he was careful not to paint the full face. He didn't have the man's permission—and likely never would. Sasuke's face was always turned away from the viewer or covered by something. The only thing he always painted were the eyes. He spent hours mixing the pigments to get the exact shade of brown, black, red and gold. He would work endlessly on each painting to capture the expression of the eyes, eyes that made the viewer want to fall to their feet and worship the perfection on the canvas before him.

He was careful not to paint Sasuke's body in a crude or exploitative way. In some, black wings stretched from his perfectly sculpted shoulder blades, while a dark mist concealed his face except for his eyes which burned through. In others, Sasuke was merely standing or walking, the perfect lines of his body painted in exquisite detail.

Despite all the paintings being of a nude figure, there was nothing overtly sexual about them—more of a controlled sensuality, the object of desire seen from afar. To be admired, but not claimed.

He painted three pictures for his own private collection, however, where the full face was revealed. These would never be displayed, but he had wanted something for himself, where he could at least have the man in his fantasies, if not in reality.

When he had finished these, he took all the photos from the magazines and burned them, much preferring his own more subtle exploration of Sasuke's body and sexuality than what some smutty magazines had produced for idiots to jerk off to, fully acknowledging that he had been one of those idiots.

Looking at the rows of paintings drying in his apartment, he decided it was time to call Hinata over to see what she had to say, if these would be something she could display or not.

Hinata stared in awe at the paintings. She had been enamored of Naruto's art since she first saw some of his paintings displayed at a student showing, years ago. His work was always full of passion and color, the people he painted so full of energy and life, it sometimes seemed as though he had captured a part of their souls when he painted them.

But she had never seen anything like these.

The sheer beauty of them made her breath catch in her throat. The emotion of longing, worship, lust and admiration poured off the canvases.

"Naruto… these… these are amazing!"

Naruto blushed, scratching the back of his head. "So… do you think they're ok for the exhibit?"

Hinata could only nod as she walked around looking at them. There were three that were facing the wall, but when she went to touch them, Naruto placed a hand on her wrist, stopping her. "Those are private."

Hinata blushed, and Naruto realized she probably thought they were sexual. In a way, she was right. But not in the way she probably thought.

"Will he be coming to the exhibit?" Hinata asked.

"Who?" Naruto said, confused.

"Him," Hinata gestured toward the paintings. "Your model."

Naruto blushed scarlet. He could only imagine how angry Sasuke would be if he knew that Naruto had painted these. That was the whole reason he had avoided painting the man's face directly. No one would ever know who it was, except for Naruto himself.

"No. There is no model. This is just from my imagination," Naruto said, not exactly lying, but not exactly telling the truth either.

Hinata's eyebrows rose, but she didn't challenge him on it. "Ok. Well, we're having a showing at the end of this month. I'll let your regular patrons know."

She pulled out her camera and took a few pictures of his work. "I'll put a few of these in our advertisements. I'm sure we'll draw quite a crowd with these. It's the best work you've ever done."

Naruto nodded vaguely, already feeling the urge to paint more.

"When they're dry enough to be moved, I'll have Kiba come by and help me take them to the gallery," she said, but she realized she was talking to herself as Naruto set a fresh canvas on his easel and began to paint an outline of a very familiar form.

Hinata watched him for a moment, enjoying the sight of an artist truly lost in his work, consumed by his muse. She smiled softly, but with a tinge of sadness. It was a pity that the man Naruto painted wasn't real.

Because it was clear that the blond was in love with him.

The first night of the showing went exceptionally well. Hinata had almost fainted at some of the prices that were offered for Naruto's paintings of his imaginary lover. Naruto never attended these events. He was thoroughly uncomfortable with the society people who attended. While he was very sociable with some of his fellow artists, he never met any of the art patrons in person, even using a 'stage name' for his works so he wouldn't have to deal with any of them directly. That's what Hinata earned her thirty percent for.

By the time the third and final night of the showing came around, all of Naruto's works had been sold. The purchasers were told that they had to wait until the show was over before they could come and collect their works, as was standard practice for the gallery.

Hinata placed her hands at the small of her back, rubbing her knuckles into the tired muscles there as the final evening drew to a close. Her eyes scanned over the crowd, noting with some pleasure that Naruto's works still were drawing the biggest audience. Several people had come to ask her to notify them immediately if additional paintings in this line became available from the artist. Hinata had taken their names, and said that the artist was definitely still very inspired on this theme and she knew he had several more paintings in the works.

One man drew her attention. He was tall, with dark hair pulled into a low ponytail over his Canali suit. As a purveyor of art, Hinata had a deep appreciation for beautiful things, and the man definitely was one. But there was something in the intensity of his stare at Naruto's works that made Hinata slightly uncomfortable.

She saw the man asking a few questions of some of the others near Naruto's paintings, and one of them turned and pointed in her direction. Black eyes locked instantly on hers, and Hinata felt her palms tingle with nerves. She knew those eyes. Though… as he walked directly toward her without breaking his gaze, she realized that while the eyes were similar, they were not the same eyes that Naruto had painted. She let out a tiny breath of relief. She was quite sure this man would have no tolerance for people painting nude portraits of him and displaying them all over Tokyo.

"Good evening," the man said, bowing politely though he was obviously impatient to discuss something with her. "I understand you are the owner of this gallery?"

"Yes," Hinata said, returning the man's polite bow with exactly the same degree of deference but not an inch more. She was wealthy in her own right, and would not acknowledge a lower station than this intimidating man. "I am Hyuuga Hinata, and this is my gallery. How may I help you?"

The man looked at her, clearly reassessing her when her words didn't ooze with flattery or flirtatiousness. "My name is Uchiha Itachi. I am interested in purchasing the works of N. Namikaze and meeting the artist."

Hinata recognized the man's name. He was a known art collector, but focused more on earlier works. Her gallery only housed new paintings, so their paths had never crossed before. "I have heard of your collection, though I thought you were only interested in earlier periods. Mr. Namikaze will be honored to hear of your interest in his works. I am afraid that all of the paintings currently on display have been sold to other collectors, but I know that the artist is still very inspired on this line and will be producing more paintings. I would be happy to add you to the list of -"

"No," Itachi said, cutting her off. "I don't wish to be added to a list. I want to speak to the artist directly. I would be happy to pay double whatever the others have offered for the paintings. I would like to purchase at least one before I leave this evening."

Hinata's eyes cooled significantly. "We do not run that sort of gallery, Uchiha-san. The paintings are sold to private collectors. I will not dishonor the name of my gallery by going back on the terms of a sale. In the future, if you wish to have first pick of the paintings, then I suggest you don't wait until the end of the final evening of the exhibit to show up. The artist does not meet with people. There are no exceptions. Now if you will excuse me, I have a gallery full of people to attend to."

Itachi's eyebrows rose in surprise. It was unusual for his requests to be dismissed so thoroughly.

"Hinata-sama!" a man with exceptionally large eyebrows approached the gallery owner.

"Lee, it's good to see you," Hinata said gracefully, turning and dismissing the Uchiha. "How may I help you this evening?"

"I was wondering when I can pick up my painting! I have arranged a spot in my private gallery for the new Namikaze piece, and I was hoping to take it home with me this evening!"

Hinata smiled at the man. Of all her patrons, Lee was by far the most exuberant about his art collection. Many of the other patrons looked down on him, both because he was 'new money' but more because he was loud and excitable. But she found it rather endearing. "Lee, I have explained this to you before. You know that we keep the paintings until the end of the exhibit, then we photograph and document each one before releasing it to the individual collectors. The earliest you can have the painting will be tomorrow afternoon, after our photographer has finished his work."

Lee looked disheartened, but nodded before slowly walking back to look at 'his' painting. As Hinata turned to answer another question, she did not notice the taller dark-haired man had followed Lee.

Itachi stood in living room of his little brother's fashionable apartment. His spontaneous decision to visit the up-and-coming art gallery that he had been hearing so much about had resulted in a very unexpected acquisition. He had managed—at great expense and not a small amount of intimidation—to procure one of the Namikaze paintings and brought it back for his brother.

Sasuke had been surprised when Itachi had shown up on his doorstep with a painting. But once he had unwrapped it, he had immediately understood why. Sasuke looked at the canvas critically. He wasn't vain, but he knew his body well enough to know that the painting was definitely of him, even though the figure in the painting had wings. Sasuke would have laughed at the notion of someone painting him as an angel if the work hadn't been so amazing.

While there were wings growing from his back, the feathers were black, not white. The painting showed a being that radiated a sort of sensual power, beautiful, but not innocent. He was looking over his shoulder, the arch of one wing covering up most of the face, but the eyes were dark, filled with intelligence and arrogance.

And haunting loneliness.

Despite the figure being nude, there was no invitation in the dark eyes. Nor was there modesty. It captured every detail of Sasuke's body, the way he held himself… the way he moved. Even the small tattoo on the base of his neck was recorded in perfect detail.

"Who is the painter?" Itachi asked.

Sasuke looked over in surprise. "I have no idea."

Itachi's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me Sasuke. Just tell me you don't want me to know, but don't lie."

Sasuke bristled. "I'm not lying. I never posed for this. Not for any of these," he gestured to the pamphlet that Itachi had brought showing the artist's other works in this series. All clearly of Sasuke. "And I've never heard of anyone named N. Namikaze. He must have painted this from my photographs."

Itachi's nose crinkled slightly, his show of distaste for his brother's 'work'. After refusing to allow his parents to arrange a marriage for him, Sasuke had been summarily disowned in his second year of college and cut off from the family's financial support. Itachi had also gone against the same efforts to find him a bride, but as the first son, his father had not wanted to take the risk of cutting him off after the amount of time he'd invested in grooming Itachi as his successor. As the expendable second son, Sasuke was not so fortunate. Unable to afford tuition on his own, Sasuke had dropped out and quickly found a job that was not only quite high paying, but carried with it the intense satisfaction of utterly humiliating his parents.

After spending his life striving endlessly for their approval only to constantly fall short, he had gone in the opposite direction when they'd forced his hand.

"These paintings are nothing like those photos," Itachi's disdain for the pictures was clear in his tone. He had been sent overseas to open a new branch of the family business, unaware of what was happening in his brother's life. Sasuke had been too proud to ask his brother for help, and had assumed he didn't give a fuck when Itachi never reached out to him when his parents had disowned him.

He didn't realize that his parents had kept their rift a secret, telling Itachi that Sasuke was simply busy at school when Itachi had asked why he didn't hear from his brother anymore when he called the house on weekends or holidays.

Their parents had hoped Sasuke would break after a few months of no financial support. The rest of the family was fixated on Itachi, so they didn't even notice when Sasuke no longer appeared at family gatherings. Imagine their parents' surprise a year later when Sasuke sent them copies of all his magazines, having them couriered directly to his father's office.

He only wished he could have been there to see his father's face. It might have actually been the first time the man would have truly looked at him and not been thinking of his brother.

Itachi had been furious when he found out, demanding that Sasuke stop. He understood Sasuke's resentment towards the rest of the family, but he hated to have Sasuke preyed upon by people who obsessed over his brother's looks. Itachi had already become successful in his own right and offered to support Sasuke himself, but Sasuke wanted nothing to do with the family business or the family money and had refused. He was now quite well off on his own. He only did photos, never movies where he would actually have to have sex with others. But he was one of the top paid models in the business, his popularity only growing more each year.

Much to his parents' horror. Sasuke smirked.

He didn't care if people only used him for his looks. At least it was on his own terms. He used them for money and independence, so he supposed it was even. He had long ago given up any childish notion of people seeing past his looks, or his failure to surpass Itachi in anything. He kept people at a distance and was completely fine with that reality.

Eventually, he would go back and finish his degree. He had enough money to do so. He was just enjoying rubbing his parents' faces in it a bit more. Because fuck them.

But somehow, this painter… this person… had seen behind his walls. And Sasuke wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"He clearly knows you. He's captured your personality, not just your body. I knew it was you just from the eyes," Itachi looked at the painting, amazed at how instantly recognizable Sasuke was even without most of his face being shown. How well the artist seemed to know him.

Sasuke shrugged. He didn't disagree. It was a slightly odd thought, to have someone painstakingly detailing out every intimate line of his body, and not know who they were.

"It has to be a lover of yours," Itachi said, broaching the subject they had always avoided with each other since Sasuke had been disowned.

Sasuke looked back at the painting. "I don't… think so."

Itachi arched a brow at the statement. "How do you know?"

As expected, Sasuke didn't answer.

Truthfully, Sasuke had taken very few lovers, and he had kept them all at arm's length. None of his lovers knew him well enough to capture the details of him in this way. And the few friends he had couldn't even paint a stick figure. It was… unsettling.

Itachi sighed when it became clear Sasuke was not going to respond. "Very well. I will leave the painting here, as a gift. The card of the gallery owner is tucked in the back. The artist is evidently some sort of recluse, but she said she would notify me when his next showing will be."

Sasuke said nothing, though he would admit his curiosity was more than just piqued.

After Itachi left, he went back and looked at the painting some more. The way the artist captured him so completely made him wonder who it could possibly be. He didn't let people in his life. He had never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend or even a particularly close platonic friend. All his sexual experiences had been very transactional, the meeting of a basic need. Yet, this… stranger seemed to see things in him that he thought were hidden from everyone but Itachi.

What was even more unsettling was the way that the artist seemed to focus on the subtler elements of Sasuke rather than latching onto the ones everyone else seemed to.

He flipped through the brochure that had the photographs of the artist's other work. He spent the remainder of the evening studying them, noticing the subtlety of the expressions the artist had captured on his face. Of loneliness… empty confidence… so many things that Sasuke thought he had kept hidden from the world.

There was something in the way the artist painted him that didn't objectify his body or looks, but made him feel as though he were something incredibly precious and perfectly imperfect. Human. Unlike the photographers who displayed him in as sexually explicit ways as possible, Sasuke got the sense that this artist somehow felt so much more than that about him.

Having spent a lifetime coming in second to his brother, being discarded by his parents, and lusted after solely for his looks, Sasuke felt that for the first time, someone had really bothered to look past all that and see him for who he was.

He wondered what the artist looked like.

Sasuke pulled the business card out from the back of the painting.

He wanted to meet this N. Namikaze.

-xXx-

to be continued...

Second part coming up in less than 3 days! ;-)