Dayum! I cranked this baby out in all of one day. Now I disclaim: It's unoriginal, probably not all that well written, a bit cliche, and ultimately pretty pointless. BUT! I felt like writing something. So thar she blows.

Warning: Explicit boyxboy. They don't go all the way, though...

For the five people who may care: The next few updates for The Lost and Found will occur in quick succession (because I've got a hella chunk o' story hidden away in my laptop), and will virtually double the story's word count. Yay! I just need to write a few more scenes and god know how long that will take me because I seem to find myself in a college dorm these days. I guess I'm one of them college people now. Who live in college towns and go to frat parties and classes and such. Stress and shanty time management loom on the horizon!

He landed roughly on the thudding, peeling bark of the branch. Stumbled but caught himself and used the momentum to fling himself forward. Keep moving. Twigs whipped past, grazing his arms and biting into his cheek. It was all quiet except for the heavy, oppressed in-and-out of his breaths and the green hiss of leaves as he careered from branch to branch. Heavy landing on one and the bark crunched under his foot, tufts of leaves shuddering loose. Damn it! He spun left instantly and kept leaping blindly from tree to tree, reaching out with chakra only. Maybe he should've kept going straight. He wouldn't put it past him to foresee a change in direction.

Didn't matter now, anyway. It was getting harder to breathe, his neck strained painfully as he sucked in desiccated air. He was going so fast, his momentum was so strong it was almost out of control and that was a thrill but also a terrifying feeling that settled somewhere on the roof of his stomach. He focused more chakra on his feet and concentrated on breathing. Not too much chakra, that can be sensed. Fuck! He was still on his trail. He dropped vertically to a lower level of branches, landed cat-like and sprang forward. Whipped around a mossy trunk, another one, left right left right. Evasive technique number fourteen—shit. That distance was too far; he gripped the branch by his fingertips, scratchy dry ridges and the built up soil in the cracks, and he swung out and upwards. Another landing—he was getting messier, damn it!

Whipped right this time. Only trees ahead and zooming past, blurred. A bead of sweat trailed maddeningly slow down his brow. Breathe in, breathe out. Scramble for footing, and that was a close one. He wasn't going to mess this up!

A whistle of metal in the wind of foliage behind and he veered right just in time but a dull thud makes him look up—strip of paper, familiar script and border attached to the goddamn kunai up ahead—fuck this! He kicked off hard, pushed past the trunk, and why is that so slippery, a running jump and he's soaring. The heat prickled his backside and he squinted against the flash before he heard the deep roar of the explosion. Slam. His feet hit the branch and he rolled to a crouch under the cover of leaves to survey the aftermath. A shitty grind-to-a-stop, branches rustling, cracking. Still his chakra and his breathing, though it's hard. He thinks maybe his cheek is bleeding, and he knows his palms are. He's got the upper hand on scent detection though, so he wasn't worried.

All quiet. He watched the smoke clear, the way the brown dusty residue of forest life and gunpowder thinned and drifted down in a chalky cloud or wisped away in the breeze towards the visible cracks of sky. Not a fucking sound. Should he risk reaching out with chakra? Just the tense silence, the type only present in ageless forests. He shifted slowly in his crouch, hidden in leaves that inked complex shadow patterns over his skin. Eyes darting nonstop.

Behind him, a twig snapped.

In a millisecond he was in the air again, leaping his way back into the explosion site and the still-heavy smoke where he had a chance of losing him. Branches became silhouettes turned solid under his racing feet. Think of nothing but the next step, the push off, the concentration of energy on his soles. He reached blindly into his holster and twisted mid-jump to fling a group of shuriken behind him. Thud thud thud in deep wood like the rat-a-tat-tat of his heart. Misses, all. He stepped hard where he knew the branch would be and jumped straight up into the greener leaves and clearer air. Pause.

Just a thought, but he knew better than to believe the twig snapping had been a mistake. So…he was being toyed with? A kunai snapped into the trunk next to his head, followed by a flutter and shudder of leaves. He scrammed, took off along the tree tops. Yep, definitely being toyed with. He hadn't even seen that one coming.

Well, fuck. He doesn't do toy, and everyone knows it, so the fact that there was definite toying taking place was in itself further toying of the type he truly and unequivocally abhors. It was being flaunted.

This meant war.

He made a dive for it, shot his hands up straight to grab the branch flying up before his eyes, swung under and up ignoring the wet-and-dry bite of bark and landed a heavy kick on a firm stomach, pushing off so that with a bit of chakra manipulation and the help of our sometime-friend gravity he flipped and skidded to a rest on a lower branch. Eyes skyward as he crouched, gaze swiveling wildly. He whipped around suddenly, just in time, and ducked a kick to the head, then a punch followed by another and another. Leaned back with a sidekick jump into a roundhouse. Miss! And they were off through the trees and yellow-gold-green leaves and afternoon streams of light. Only he was chasing this time but he knows he's not going to win if it's a matter of speed.

The bastard was probably taking it slow as it was.

So he streamed his chakra to his feet, fuck control and efficiency, heard the gunshot crack of the branch underneath him as he shoved off and tackled harshly into the black-clad body before him. That sure had winded him, flesh is harder than it looks, but he gripped tight and they were falling past branches. An arm shot out, not his, and gripped a branch so that his hold slipped and he kept falling alone—flipped once and landed on his feet on the mossy rock and earth of the forest floor with the skeet skeet of skidding trails.

Pause. Recollect. He twirled around warily, rapidly, kunai in hand and eyes scanning the trees that loomed identically from all directions like a goddamn nightmare. Dizzying and empty and he could see the pollen spores and dust mites as they floated in the warm air of autumn.

He stopped suddenly and straightened up. Let his arms fall limp to his sides, the roughly-taped kunai hilt loose between his fingers. Closed his eyes. Breathed in the smell of sun-warmed pine and cool stone and the slightest fragrance of grass on the barely-there breeze. Reached out tendrils of chakra, let his energy and essence and consciousness seep into the quiet humming wooded air. The earth spins astrological concentric spirals around him, always. He is where and who and when he is.

Then he was somersaulting backwards as a pack of shuriken impaled his footprints, keening and high-pitched in their spinning. Pushed off the trunk and made straight for his attacker who was ready and waiting in fighting stance on the forest floor. He was grabbed by the shoulders mid-air and thrown, landing heavily on his back. Sticks and stones really fucking hurt. Leapt to a crouch and spun out a high-kick to the stomach. Contact, but immediate retaliation. Now they're exchanging punch, punch, duck, spin, kick, block, feint, spin, chop, elbow. Faster than he can fucking see it so he's working off instinct, and that intensity in the air before a hit comes swinging, and also a bit of luck.

Luck ran out last year, though, because he caught a fist with his jaw and that leaves him reeling for a second but that's just long enough for his feet to be kicked out from under him. He hit the ground hard. Would've been just fine and raring for another round except for the inconveniently placed rock that became suddenly and rather forcefully introduced to the back of his head.

Ah. That motherfucking hurts. He groaned and blinked at the unfocused image of the bystander trees and the lean dark figure hesitating over him. Bringing his hands up to cradle his cranium he rolled to the side and curled into the fetal position. "Sasuke, you fucking bastard," he growled somewhat inarticulately, screwing shut his eyes and trying to breathe through the riddling pain. Focus on the musty smell of soil and decomposing foliage. Oh fuuuckk. He rocked back and forth with a grimace and wondered if chopping off his head would be medically advisable because that was sure as hell what he felt like doing right now.

"Hn. Dobe."

Naruto intensely desired to express his indignation at and disagreement with Sasuke's offhand suggestion that his current condition was somehow brought about by his own actions. It came out, however, sounding like a strangled, enraged splutter whose source may or may not have been a dying walrus.

"I'm sorry; I didn't quite catch that last bit."

"Argh!" Naruto elaborated eloquently and snapped his eyes open. Sasuke was crouched beside his head, his arms leaning across his thighs, fingers hanging relaxed and casual. And, of course, that infernally patronizing smirk twisting his pale lips and hardening his gaze as he observed Naruto with a certain degree of amusement. Naruto scowled up at him. "What the fuck was that for?" he heaved, still winded from the fight and the fall. He winced as a particularly sharp stab of pain in the back of his skull followed the exclamation. Aah fuck fuck fuck.

Shuffling noises and he cracked open an eye he'd inadvertently shut. Sasuke was leaning down next to him, settling heavily onto his back with a sigh, arms brought up under his head as his eyes peacefully traced the green glowing canopy above them. The grass and vines flattened and brushed softly where he lay. "I win," he announced thoughtfully. Birds twittered somewhere nearby.

Naruto groaned and unglued a hand from his skull to thwack Sasuke across the stomach. "No you do not, teme. You knew that fucking rock was there, you asshole. I could've died. I could have a goddamn concussion. Or fall into a freaking coma. I should just get amnesia and forget you exist."

Sasuke snorted and propped himself up on elbow, dark jagged hair caressing his pale cheek in whisper strands and grazing his shoulder. He let his gaze linger on the tree tops, their warm golden roof of foliage, before swinging it down to trail meticulously up Naruto's body and come to a rest on the scowling face. His black eyes flitted once and the vestiges of a smile tugged at the corners of his thin mouth. "You couldn't even if you wanted to."

Naruto rolled his eyes and glared off to the side, digging a rough hand through his disheveled hair and feeling the back of his head for external injuries. "Cocky bastard," he hissed as a tender patch protested his prodding.

A warm hand covered his and Naruto paused in his check-over, turning back to Sasuke who'd moved so that he was leaning over Naruto with one arm propped against his other side. He let the new, gentler hand replace his and fought against closing his eyes to the tingling sensation the soft brushing fingers skimmed along his scalp. Sasuke pinned him with a heady gaze so he narrowed his eyes right back and swallowed thickly. The grass was moist and scratchy-soft underneath them. Lips inching closer. A curling smirk and those eyes nobody else in the world has. "It's the truth, though. I'm not saying it's understandable. I am simply stating a fact." His ebony irises glittered like they held a secret, an exhilarating knowledge no one but them shared. This is who and when and how we are.

Naruto, still frowning, threaded a brusque and impatient hand into Sasuke's hair and yanked him down to meet his lips. "Oh, screw you," he growled hungrily into the hot wet mouth as they swapped spit. He bit Sasuke's lip and tugged harshly before diving in again, tilting his head and shoving his tongue to run it slickly across Sasuke's and feel the ridges of his teeth. Breathing in harshly through his nose, like he could inhale and absorb the presence above him and keep it with him afterwards.

Sasuke'd moved to hover over Naruto's supine figure, knees on either side of his hips and bracing himself against Naruto's shoulders, his fingers digging ruthlessly into the cloth and skin as he leaned down reciprocate Naruto's transgressions in full. Pushing, rolling up with his mouth, melding lips together and licking teeth. He roughly massaged Naruto's neck with his thumb, moved to clasp his grimy cheek. Those fucking lips against his, he had their shape and texture and taste tactilely memorized. The shuddering peace he feels with that skin on his.

Naruto's hands clawed their way down Sasuke's back, over his ass, and gripped his thighs harshly before yanking out and down so that the space between them was eliminated. Naruto inhaled sharply at that, the contact. Funny how the texture of his briefs suddenly seemed about ten times rougher, like he could feel every goddamn thread rubbing against his skin. Sasuke gave one last harsh nip to his lower lip and pulled back a little, staring intensely at Naruto's flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes. Deliberately, torturously slow he rolled his hips, grinding hard into Naruto and watching as Naruto bit his lip and exhaled through his nose. Lashes fluttering minutely.

Thrust down, grind up. Sasuke hissed softly and hunched to rest his forehead on Naruto's. Rolled his hips again. Closed his eyes. Again. Soon Naruto was rocking up to meet him halfway and an urgent tug on his hair led him to a parted mouth and the kiss was slow and gentle this time because the anger and the frustration was being expressed elsewhere. Sasuke felt how Naruto's abdomen began to tense and spasm with harsh breaths on every upward rock. And they were moving faster, pressing infinitely close like maybe they'd be able to melt together, and it sure as hell felt like they were melting. And faster, and faster yet, rocking in tensing rhythm.

Naruto broke the kiss suddenly and threw his head back for air and his eyes scanned the leaves above in a blind daze, a hissed "fuuuckk" escaping his lips as Sasuke ground him into the moss and tree roots. He clutched Sasuke's thighs and they thrust once, twice, three times more before Naruto was stiffening, back straining, toes curling, fingers digging violently and unfeeling. Eyes shut tight as a low groan escaped his throat and he rode it out. Heaving breaths and feeling the sweat on his brow as above him Sasuke finished as well with a slow, graceful arch of his back, nails cutting into Naruto's shoulder and his name hissed in a way that made it sound unholy and divine at the same time.

The deafening loudness of silence is never fully appreciated until moments like these, Naruto realized, as Sasuke's heavy weight toppled exhaustedly on top of him, their hearts thudding blood-drunk beats into each other's chests, the smell of sweat and soil and Sasuke's hair filling his nose. He heard their heaving breaths and the echoing, leafy whispers of the forest around them. A chirp and thrum of insects, and the birds again. Above them, the treetops swayed sleepily against the vivid blue sky.

Sasuke turned his head lazily and parted his lips against the salty moistness of Naruto's neck, ever so lightly brushing the pulse with the sensitive skin of his lips. Naruto shut his eyes and swallowed, sneaking a hand under Sasuke's shirt just so he could feel the smooth warm skin of his back against his palm. "So I guess you're not pissed at me anymore, then?" he asked quietly.

"No, I'm still pretty fucking pissed," Sasuke murmured against his skin.

Naruto sighed and brought his other arm under Sasuke's shirt with a rustle of fabric so that he was hugging him tightly, breathing in his scent of wood and stinging honey. "You'll get over it."

Sasuke pushed himself to elbows and stared down at Naruto with a frown, his hair falling forward like curtains to afford them privacy and tickle Naruto's jaw. "You're such a fucking moron, you know that? How many times will it take for you to get it into your head that I don't fucking want any snot-nosed kids following me around? The Uchiha name is a goddamn curse and you know it."

Naruto let his grip on Sasuke's torso loosen and his arms fall to his sides. "Konoha needs the Uchiha; it always has."

Sasuke growled and pushed off the ground to his feet, scowling down at Naruto before pacing agitatedly away. "And what about this, usuratonkachi?" he exclaimed suddenly, whipping around. Some rodent in a nearby bush scurried away with a jolt of leaves.

Naruto sat up, bending a knee to lean an arm against as he stared calmly up at the raggedly furious pose Sasuke was cutting against the forest backdrop, hands balled and hair jutting messily. "I'd love to freeze time, Sasuke, but this isn't going anywhere. It can't go anywhere."

"What the fuck does that even mean, dobe? Who says anything needs to go anywhere?" Sasuke spat, flinging out a hand in a gesture of frustration.

Naruto sighed again and observed the loamy, black earth mounded between the roots and craggy stones that surrounded them. "Are you coming to the wedding or not?" He waited for a few silent seconds and glanced up at Sasuke's lack of an answer. The pale face was gazing down at him blankly, regally.

"I'm fucking in love with you, Naruto. Fuck you."

Naruto's eyes widened slightly, his hand clenching into the dirt and crackling dead leaves under him without his consent. Waited for his heart to start beating in his chest again instead of his throat. "No you're not." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Now who's the moron?"

Sasuke froze, staring down at Naruto disbelievingly. Before either of them knew it he was crouching before him, gripping Naruto's collar and tugging him forward violently. He forced Naruto's head up to his eye level and glared at him fiercely for a moment or two before swooping in and covering those lips with his own, biting harshly and pushing his tongue as far as it would go—madly, desperately, painfully. "I," he growled before kissing Naruto again. "Am," another kiss, his hand cradling the tan jaw that had began to work with him. "In." Naruto was leaning down now, and they were on the floor again. "Love." Naruto was his gripping his own shirt just as desperately and kissing back. "With." His voice was getting breathier, gasping. "You." It came out as forceful whisper.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss. "Moron," he murmured, scanning the face fastidiously like he could never get enough it. And he was on his feet again, walking away with full composure towards the trees.

Naruto stared after him, wide-eyed, hand dazedly raised to his still-open mouth, for a good five seconds before scrambling to his feet. "Sasuke! Wait."

Sasuke stopped stiffly but did not turn around, merely shifting his head slightly left in leisurely acknowledgement.

Naruto took a deep breath and lowered the hand he had unwittingly extended. "I'm in love with you too."

For a while, a long while, nothing happened. Only the forest deigned to keep breathing and whispering around them as a breeze picked up. Finally, and in a dangerously low voice, Sasuke spoke. "If that's true, then what the fuck have we been fighting about for the past month and half?" He spun around and the look in his eyes was frighteningly, insanely murderous. "If that's true, then what the fuck are you doing going off and getting married to Hinata?" he growled, voice rising in volume. "Huh?! Tell me, Naruto!"

Naruto flinched but stubbornly, earnestly kept his gaze trained on Sasuke. "We can't be together. We—I can't do this anymore." He ran a shaking hand through his tangled hair, glancing down at the ground once before looking back up at Sasuke with determination. "You need to continue the bloodline. I'm getting married in two weeks. Which means you need to find someone else, okay? This is it."

They stared at each other without speaking, and Naruto could no longer read the expression on Sasuke's face. And when Sasuke broke the forested shady silence, it was in a voice Naruto didn't recognize. Icy, mechanical, unfeeling: "You're right. This is it." Dark eyes flashing. He turned on the spot and walked away, and this time Naruto didn't go after him.

For a long time, long after Sasuke had disappeared into the darkness of distant trees, Naruto did not move. Eventually, he realized it was not so much afternoon as evening and that he was feeling cold. Bringing a hand up to his cheek, it came away wet. He'd been crying. He was crying. It didn't really register.

He lifted one heavy foot and then another, and another, and another, and knew that they'd find his way back through the trees to Konoha. Robotic and blank. So this was it, then.

This was it.

xxx

Two weeks later, Sasuke went to the wedding anyway. He couldn't have stayed away if he'd tried.

He was quietly devastated when he discovered upon his arrival, after all his deliberating and punching of inanimate objects and burning of furniture by means of katons, that he'd arrived too late. The ceremony was over, the white wooden garden chairs aligned in perfect empty rows, decorative cream ribbons and floral bouquets fluttering desolately in the unusually strong wind, a couple even strewn carelessly over the trimmed grass, the white carpet of the aisle wrinkled and disordered. The grounds were deserted. And god, it was such a beautiful day too. He breathed a shuddering gasp as the red and gold and green trees along the sides of the field rustled crisply in the fall wind, leaves shuddering to the ground, and the yellow sun glinted dream-like and golden over the brilliant richness of the grass. Up ahead, a raised platform with a white-draped wedding arch stood serenely against the drifting clouds in the crystalline sky like some ancient ivory monument raised to inconsequential gods. And the smell—the smell of an almost-rain, of change and never going back, fresh and bitingly poignant and making him remember things he no longer had; October always hit him hard. Days like these…

He would be crying, but he'd already cried everything he had until he felt like he'd be crying blood through his pores.

Sasuke turned around, tux rendered frivolous, and went home.

xxx

That night, Naruto showed up at his doorstep. His blue eyes glinted wet and red like he'd been the one crying, his hair whipped hard and wild by the wind. They stared at each other across the doorway.

"Hey," Naruto said. He was smiling. He looked happy, and that hurt in ways Sasuke didn't want to think about.

"I'm sorry I didn't go to your wedding," Sasuke said, running his eyes over Naruto's shoulder at the trees in the distance, trying hard not to sound bitter or angry.

Naruto froze and looked up at him suddenly. "What are you talking about, Sasuke?" he asked, confused and thick like maybe he had a cold too. His mouth twisted in strange ways.

Sasuke leveled him a stony, stitched-along-the edges gaze. Naruto hadn't even noticed he was missing? "Nevermind," he muttered, suddenly unable to look Naruto in the eye. "What do you want?"

"No, no, wait, Sasuke. Sasuke—what the hell do you mean, you're sorry you didn't go to my wedding? It never happened, you idiot!" Naruto furrowed his brows concernedly, and rubbed at his pink-tinged nose.

Sasuke just looked at him. And looked. Blinked once and…shut the door in Naruto's face. "I'm hallucinating," he announced matter-of-factly, turning to shuffle back up the hallway and maybe find a pillow to suffocate himself with. "And talking to myself, apparently." His ruminations were distracted by a loud banging at the door.

"Sasuke! Sasuke, what the hell?! Open the fucking door, teme!" came Naruto's muffled and indignant voice through the wood. "It's fucking cold out here!"

Sasuke hesitated and went back to the door, pulling it open. "Go away!" he shooed, hand motions and all. "You're supposed to making sweet love to Hinata in consecration of your stupid marriage!"

Naruto gaped for a moment, eyes ridiculously wide, before bursting out in laughter. "What the fuck?" he wheezed out, bending double with chortles. "What the fuck did you just say?" He groaned in mirth and leaned against the wall of the small landing. "Oh man…"

Sasuke narrowed his eyes and shifted the weight on his feet, suddenly unsure. Of what, he wasn't sure.

Naruto collected himself and wiped his eyes, straightening up and facing Sasuke full on. "Sasuke," he said stoutly, taking a deep breath. "Hinata never showed. It was called off."

"…What?"

"She never showed! And then I found her afterwards and we talked…and she…." Naruto tilted his head and bit his lip. "I guess she just sort of knew…" He took a step closer to Sasuke and tucked a wayward strand of black hair back behind Sasuke's ear. "And then she sort of explained stuff…and then I knew…"

Sasuke squinted at Naruto's feeble attempts at human communication. "What the fuck are you talking about you moron?" he whispered.

Naruto smiled and ran his eyes across Sasuke's disgruntled, tired, and rather puffy features. "Remember that time when you said—much like the cocky bastard you are, you know—you said I'd never be able to forget you, even if I tried?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorframe. "Yes I remember, dobe. I'm not the one who likes to pretend I have amnesia." He arched his brows expectantly.

"Well…you were right," Naruto murmured, a smile growing on his lips. "I've been trying to—I dunno—fix things. Trying to make them how I think they're supposed to be." He shrugged, eyes glued to Sasuke's, and leaned in closer. "And then I realized, who the fuck says things are up to me anyway?" His gaze shone with a wild, secret happiness, his hand reached out to cradle Sasuke's cheek. "You and me, Sasuke…I realized I couldn't stop this if I tried…"

So the distance was closed, and so they kissed.

The why or how or when didn't matter, because this is who they are. And around them the night thrummed its starry windswept cycle of shuddering treetops, pine scent breezes and the flutter of grass stalks on lonely meadowed hillsides.

End, bitches! Bam!

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