Happy V-day & Mr. Wonderful, Chapter 2!
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Hope your day was full of love! :)
And I, of course, have a lot of love for my dear fish_for_ashes, and today is the one-year anniversary of our glorious internet-marriage! ♥
So of course I had to finish up the next chapter of Mr. Wonderful, since it's for her anyway. ;)
Title: Mr. Wonderful, Chapter 2
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: Humor/Romance, some Family
Rating: T?
Pairing: NarutoxSasuke
Warnings:AU, swearing, eventual boyxboy situations, and overall silliness.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.
Summary: Oh, the things we do for money. Nobody ever mentioned anything to Sasuke about love, though. [NaruSasuNaru, AU]
Mr. Wonderful
Chapter 2: Displays of Maturity
“Formal wear, swimsuit, talent, question-and-answer… wait, what? Oh, no fucking way am I wearing nothing but a swimsuit in front of those lunatics.”
“Hmm, I suppose you’d better start looking now for a Speedo that fits.”
“WHAT?!”
“It was a joke, Sasuke,” Itachi sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little more tightly. “I’m sure swim trunks are what is expected.”
Sasuke double-checked to find that that was true, but huffed his indignation nonetheless.
“Honestly, you’re participating in a small, local pageant for male college students desperate for tuition money, not the Miss Universe competition. It’s hardly even what you could call a pageant… more like a mock-pageant. I was reading the flyer that came in the mail, and it said that there’s some real pageant for young women with a scholarship prize, but none for men. So the local chapter of some women’s club decided to make a male pageant, aiming to support local youth and probably get some laughs in at the same time.”
Sasuke remained silent and stared out the passenger side window of Itachi’s car, obviously sulking.
“Sasuke, a group of bored, rich housewives has the power to give you a large sum of money that will allow you to continue attending college without having to resort to harvesting your own internal organs, and all you have to do is prance around in front of them and babble about how much you want world peace. So quit acting like a whining child and deal with it already.”
Sasuke looked nauseated at the mere thought of “prancing” anywhere, but sat up a little straighter in his seat.
“If it makes you feel better,” Itachi mused, “this will most likely be such a small, corny little affair that there will only be about ten people in the audience, if that.”
“Still, ten people that I’ll have to bear watching me as I parade around like some prize show poodle beside whatever stupid meatheads make it into this ‘competition,’” Sasuke grumbled, but was slightly pacified for the time being.
They spent the rest of the drive in silence.
*****
The day of the first rehearsal arrived far too quickly, at least in Sasuke’s opinion. Itachi dropped him off at the civic center, where the pageant was to be held, looking the part of a parent dropping off their child on a particularly excruciating first day of school.
He wandered the halls of the building, taking in the scuffed linoleum and dusty, worn-out Christmas decorations that had never been put away with disdain.
Why there needed to be one rehearsal, let alone two, was beyond him. How much preparation could possibly be required for a stupid joke?
He followed some crudely made signs-large black arrows scrawled across plain white paper, clearly a sign of the professionalism put into this production-into the auditorium of the civic center, which was usually reserved for various town meetings and school concerts.
Stepping through the auditorium doors, he took in the sight of the stage with its faded curtains and the dozens of uncomfortable metal folding chairs aligned in crooked rows in front of it. There were several young guys slouching in the chairs, most looking about as pleased to be a part of this charade as he was.
He scrutinized his “competition”: one with ridiculous tattoos on his cheeks, one wearing dark sunglasses indoors, one with obviously dyed red hair and a fondness for eye makeup, one with a black hoodie pulled up over his head, one with unnaturally sharp teeth, one that was at least a foot taller than most of the others, one fat and inhaling whatever food was within reach, one napping and about to fall out of his chair, one ghastly pale with an eerily pleased expression on his face, one with some kind of unnatural growth where his eyebrows should be, and one with girlishly long hair sitting ramrod straight in his seat and gazing contemptuously at the rest of them.
All of them were completely, utterly average, regular college guys. Sasuke wondered if they were the only ones that had applied, or how selective the women on the panel had been.
But from the looks of things, this was in the bag.
As he took his seat, a woman with a clipboard stepped onto the stage. She began to call their names, checking to see if all of them were present. It actually took effort for Sasuke to do more than grunt when his name was called.
“And lastly,” she said, tucking a strand of her short black hair back behind her ears, “Naruto Uzu-”
“I’m here!” a voice shouted from behind them.
Sasuke turned with the others to look at the guy hurrying in. He had to squint his eyes at first, though, because with his sunny blond hair and blaringly orange t-shirt, the guy was much too bright for the drab room.
“Sorry,” the guy grinned sheepishly at the woman, his smile too bright as well. “I’m Naruto Uzumaki.”
She flushed slightly, returning his grin with a smile of her own. “It’s alright, we were just getting started.”
Relieved, the guy-Naruto, was it?-sat down a few chairs away from Sasuke. He had the bluest eyes Sasuke had ever seen.
In that moment, Sasuke knew he had encountered a nuisance. (Still not actual competition, of course, but this guy was clearly a charmer, and people skills were admittedly not on Sasuke’s lengthy list of accomplishments.)
Not to mention that this guy was… fairly decent-looking.
“Okay, now that we’re all here,” the woman continued in a cheery voice, “I’d like to officially welcome you to the Mr. Wonderful pageant! We’re thrilled at the prospect of showcasing and supporting young talent, and hope you’re as excited about being a part of this as we are!”
Sasuke scowled.
“My name is Shizune, and I’ll be the technical director for the show. Now I’m just going to remind you of the rules and procedures of the pageant…”
Sasuke didn’t even pretend to listen while Shizune prattled on. He was too focused on Naruto, who still wore a carefree grin and was nodding along to whatever nonsense the woman was spewing.
That grin was bad, Sasuke thought. There was a chance-a very, very slight one, but still-that that grin could get in the way of his imminent victory.
Sasuke felt the ridiculous urge to smash it, to wipe it off idiot’s not-completely-hideous face.
“And remember, with such a significant prize at stake,” Shizune’s voice buzzed in the background, “we expect fair play from you at all times.”
*****
As they waited all together backstage for the rehearsal to officially begin, the contestants introduced themselves and engaged in some small talk.
Sasuke got along fine with the quiet ones (meaning they acknowledged each other with slight nods and let the conversation end there). It was the loud ones that tested his (limited) patience; the one with the weird triangles on his face had a loud, barking laugh that already started to give Sasuke a headache, and the one with the freaky eyebrows kept babbling about “youth” or some other sunny, optimistic bullshit. And then there was-
A hand was thrust practically into his face. “Hey,” Naruto grinned-that grin again!-and introduced himself. “I’m Naruto Uzumaki, and-”
“I don’t care,” Sasuke finished, ignoring the hand.
The grin turned into a scowl. It pleased Sasuke immensely.
Naruto stared at him hard but didn’t lower his hand. Sasuke sneered down at it.
“Shake my hand,” Naruto said between clenched teeth. When Sasuke made no move to do so, Naruto reached forward and yanked Sasuke’s hand into a clenching grip of a handshake. “I said, shake my damn hand, you arrogant bastard,” Naruto growled.
Sasuke saw Shizune moving to approach the group, and leaned closer to make it look like they were getting acquainted instead of barely restraining themselves from getting in a fistfight. Thankfully, no one else was close enough to overhear their conversation. “Sasuke Uchiha,” he bit out grudgingly, tightening his own grip on Naruto’s hand. Neither of them noticed that they were cutting off each other’s circulation.
“I’ve been watching you. You’re acting like you’re too good to be here,” Naruto commented in a low but angry voice, “but the fact that you’re here means you need this money just as bad as I do, as we all do. So who are you to look down at us? What, did your daddy cut you off?” Sasuke stiffened.
“We all have just as much a shot at winning as the next guy. I don’t care how good looking you are, you’re not going to win if you keep acting like the world’s biggest asshole.”
With that, Naruto forced his grin back in place and stepped back, releasing Sasuke’s hand. “See you in the final round, Sasuke,” he smirked, and turned away.
“Places, everyone!” Shizune called out, before Sasuke could form a retort.
*****
“Rehearsal” consisted mostly of the contestants moving across the stage in overly unnecessary lines and other formations, all for the sake of presenting themselves to their amused and most likely predominantly female audience.
At one point as Sasuke was walking up to the front of the stage, Naruto was walking in the opposite direction back to his place in line.
If directly asked, Sasuke wouldn’t deny that it was no accident when his shoulder brushed roughly against Naruto’s as they passed. (Hey, he may have been a mature adult, but he was still a guy.)
He would deny, however, that when Naruto “accidentally” bumped into him later in the rehearsal, he stumbled. Sasuke Uchiha didn’t stumble.
*****
“-and then he-”
Itachi held up a hand to cut him off, shaking his head. They sat at the kitchen counter of his tidy one-bedroom apartment. Sasuke had taken temporary residency of Itachi’s couch because it was summer and living at their parents’ home was out of the question since he wasn’t presently on speaking terms with Fugaku.
“If you care so little about this ‘peon’, as you’ve so referred to him several times,” Itachi said, pausing to take his final bite of Chinese takeout, “Why are you spending so much time talking about him?”
Sasuke’s food was barely touched, having been too busy ranting about the idiot. Itachi didn’t wait for an answer and picked up his plate to take it to the sink.
Left alone at the counter, Sasuke picked at his food. As he took a bite of now cold Kung-Pao chicken, he wondered why he kept hearing Naruto’s voice in his head calling him good-looking.
*****
A/N: This is a bit of a filler chapter, so I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Let me know what you thought please? :)
And I, of course, have a lot of love for my dear fish_for_ashes, and today is the one-year anniversary of our glorious internet-marriage! ♥
So of course I had to finish up the next chapter of Mr. Wonderful, since it's for her anyway. ;)
Title: Mr. Wonderful, Chapter 2
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: Humor/Romance, some Family
Rating: T?
Pairing: NarutoxSasuke
Warnings:AU, swearing, eventual boyxboy situations, and overall silliness.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.
Summary: Oh, the things we do for money. Nobody ever mentioned anything to Sasuke about love, though. [NaruSasuNaru, AU]
Mr. Wonderful
Chapter 2: Displays of Maturity
“Formal wear, swimsuit, talent, question-and-answer… wait, what? Oh, no fucking way am I wearing nothing but a swimsuit in front of those lunatics.”
“Hmm, I suppose you’d better start looking now for a Speedo that fits.”
“WHAT?!”
“It was a joke, Sasuke,” Itachi sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little more tightly. “I’m sure swim trunks are what is expected.”
Sasuke double-checked to find that that was true, but huffed his indignation nonetheless.
“Honestly, you’re participating in a small, local pageant for male college students desperate for tuition money, not the Miss Universe competition. It’s hardly even what you could call a pageant… more like a mock-pageant. I was reading the flyer that came in the mail, and it said that there’s some real pageant for young women with a scholarship prize, but none for men. So the local chapter of some women’s club decided to make a male pageant, aiming to support local youth and probably get some laughs in at the same time.”
Sasuke remained silent and stared out the passenger side window of Itachi’s car, obviously sulking.
“Sasuke, a group of bored, rich housewives has the power to give you a large sum of money that will allow you to continue attending college without having to resort to harvesting your own internal organs, and all you have to do is prance around in front of them and babble about how much you want world peace. So quit acting like a whining child and deal with it already.”
Sasuke looked nauseated at the mere thought of “prancing” anywhere, but sat up a little straighter in his seat.
“If it makes you feel better,” Itachi mused, “this will most likely be such a small, corny little affair that there will only be about ten people in the audience, if that.”
“Still, ten people that I’ll have to bear watching me as I parade around like some prize show poodle beside whatever stupid meatheads make it into this ‘competition,’” Sasuke grumbled, but was slightly pacified for the time being.
They spent the rest of the drive in silence.
*****
The day of the first rehearsal arrived far too quickly, at least in Sasuke’s opinion. Itachi dropped him off at the civic center, where the pageant was to be held, looking the part of a parent dropping off their child on a particularly excruciating first day of school.
He wandered the halls of the building, taking in the scuffed linoleum and dusty, worn-out Christmas decorations that had never been put away with disdain.
Why there needed to be one rehearsal, let alone two, was beyond him. How much preparation could possibly be required for a stupid joke?
He followed some crudely made signs-large black arrows scrawled across plain white paper, clearly a sign of the professionalism put into this production-into the auditorium of the civic center, which was usually reserved for various town meetings and school concerts.
Stepping through the auditorium doors, he took in the sight of the stage with its faded curtains and the dozens of uncomfortable metal folding chairs aligned in crooked rows in front of it. There were several young guys slouching in the chairs, most looking about as pleased to be a part of this charade as he was.
He scrutinized his “competition”: one with ridiculous tattoos on his cheeks, one wearing dark sunglasses indoors, one with obviously dyed red hair and a fondness for eye makeup, one with a black hoodie pulled up over his head, one with unnaturally sharp teeth, one that was at least a foot taller than most of the others, one fat and inhaling whatever food was within reach, one napping and about to fall out of his chair, one ghastly pale with an eerily pleased expression on his face, one with some kind of unnatural growth where his eyebrows should be, and one with girlishly long hair sitting ramrod straight in his seat and gazing contemptuously at the rest of them.
All of them were completely, utterly average, regular college guys. Sasuke wondered if they were the only ones that had applied, or how selective the women on the panel had been.
But from the looks of things, this was in the bag.
As he took his seat, a woman with a clipboard stepped onto the stage. She began to call their names, checking to see if all of them were present. It actually took effort for Sasuke to do more than grunt when his name was called.
“And lastly,” she said, tucking a strand of her short black hair back behind her ears, “Naruto Uzu-”
“I’m here!” a voice shouted from behind them.
Sasuke turned with the others to look at the guy hurrying in. He had to squint his eyes at first, though, because with his sunny blond hair and blaringly orange t-shirt, the guy was much too bright for the drab room.
“Sorry,” the guy grinned sheepishly at the woman, his smile too bright as well. “I’m Naruto Uzumaki.”
She flushed slightly, returning his grin with a smile of her own. “It’s alright, we were just getting started.”
Relieved, the guy-Naruto, was it?-sat down a few chairs away from Sasuke. He had the bluest eyes Sasuke had ever seen.
In that moment, Sasuke knew he had encountered a nuisance. (Still not actual competition, of course, but this guy was clearly a charmer, and people skills were admittedly not on Sasuke’s lengthy list of accomplishments.)
Not to mention that this guy was… fairly decent-looking.
“Okay, now that we’re all here,” the woman continued in a cheery voice, “I’d like to officially welcome you to the Mr. Wonderful pageant! We’re thrilled at the prospect of showcasing and supporting young talent, and hope you’re as excited about being a part of this as we are!”
Sasuke scowled.
“My name is Shizune, and I’ll be the technical director for the show. Now I’m just going to remind you of the rules and procedures of the pageant…”
Sasuke didn’t even pretend to listen while Shizune prattled on. He was too focused on Naruto, who still wore a carefree grin and was nodding along to whatever nonsense the woman was spewing.
That grin was bad, Sasuke thought. There was a chance-a very, very slight one, but still-that that grin could get in the way of his imminent victory.
Sasuke felt the ridiculous urge to smash it, to wipe it off idiot’s not-completely-hideous face.
“And remember, with such a significant prize at stake,” Shizune’s voice buzzed in the background, “we expect fair play from you at all times.”
*****
As they waited all together backstage for the rehearsal to officially begin, the contestants introduced themselves and engaged in some small talk.
Sasuke got along fine with the quiet ones (meaning they acknowledged each other with slight nods and let the conversation end there). It was the loud ones that tested his (limited) patience; the one with the weird triangles on his face had a loud, barking laugh that already started to give Sasuke a headache, and the one with the freaky eyebrows kept babbling about “youth” or some other sunny, optimistic bullshit. And then there was-
A hand was thrust practically into his face. “Hey,” Naruto grinned-that grin again!-and introduced himself. “I’m Naruto Uzumaki, and-”
“I don’t care,” Sasuke finished, ignoring the hand.
The grin turned into a scowl. It pleased Sasuke immensely.
Naruto stared at him hard but didn’t lower his hand. Sasuke sneered down at it.
“Shake my hand,” Naruto said between clenched teeth. When Sasuke made no move to do so, Naruto reached forward and yanked Sasuke’s hand into a clenching grip of a handshake. “I said, shake my damn hand, you arrogant bastard,” Naruto growled.
Sasuke saw Shizune moving to approach the group, and leaned closer to make it look like they were getting acquainted instead of barely restraining themselves from getting in a fistfight. Thankfully, no one else was close enough to overhear their conversation. “Sasuke Uchiha,” he bit out grudgingly, tightening his own grip on Naruto’s hand. Neither of them noticed that they were cutting off each other’s circulation.
“I’ve been watching you. You’re acting like you’re too good to be here,” Naruto commented in a low but angry voice, “but the fact that you’re here means you need this money just as bad as I do, as we all do. So who are you to look down at us? What, did your daddy cut you off?” Sasuke stiffened.
“We all have just as much a shot at winning as the next guy. I don’t care how good looking you are, you’re not going to win if you keep acting like the world’s biggest asshole.”
With that, Naruto forced his grin back in place and stepped back, releasing Sasuke’s hand. “See you in the final round, Sasuke,” he smirked, and turned away.
“Places, everyone!” Shizune called out, before Sasuke could form a retort.
*****
“Rehearsal” consisted mostly of the contestants moving across the stage in overly unnecessary lines and other formations, all for the sake of presenting themselves to their amused and most likely predominantly female audience.
At one point as Sasuke was walking up to the front of the stage, Naruto was walking in the opposite direction back to his place in line.
If directly asked, Sasuke wouldn’t deny that it was no accident when his shoulder brushed roughly against Naruto’s as they passed. (Hey, he may have been a mature adult, but he was still a guy.)
He would deny, however, that when Naruto “accidentally” bumped into him later in the rehearsal, he stumbled. Sasuke Uchiha didn’t stumble.
*****
“-and then he-”
Itachi held up a hand to cut him off, shaking his head. They sat at the kitchen counter of his tidy one-bedroom apartment. Sasuke had taken temporary residency of Itachi’s couch because it was summer and living at their parents’ home was out of the question since he wasn’t presently on speaking terms with Fugaku.
“If you care so little about this ‘peon’, as you’ve so referred to him several times,” Itachi said, pausing to take his final bite of Chinese takeout, “Why are you spending so much time talking about him?”
Sasuke’s food was barely touched, having been too busy ranting about the idiot. Itachi didn’t wait for an answer and picked up his plate to take it to the sink.
Left alone at the counter, Sasuke picked at his food. As he took a bite of now cold Kung-Pao chicken, he wondered why he kept hearing Naruto’s voice in his head calling him good-looking.
*****
A/N: This is a bit of a filler chapter, so I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Let me know what you thought please? :)