Sasuke the Poledancer
This one is dedicated toaskerian because she's amazing. And she totally doesn't know me either, so this is creepy. XD
But I have this one picture of Sasuke. And it's the most horrifying and awesome thing I've seen in a long time. So I wrote about it. Heh.
He didn't like doing it.
The bar was always cold by the start of the night. And he never did like baring this much flesh. Open kimono shirts were one thing. Legs and a completely bare top was another level entirely.
He might've liked the boots though. They made him taller, even if he didn't need the extra height. They were black though, so that was ok. Leather. Thick heeled... Yea, he didn't mind them. Even though he had a feeling they'd look just as good on Sakura, any day.
An hour later, and the bar isn't cold anymore. It's the same as his body temperature. Maybe even warmer.
Sasuke's back is paler than the other workers there, the colored lights reflecting off him giving the sweat sheened flesh a teasing pallet of hues. They dance around the ridges of soft muscle, curling light and dark over limbs and along the curve of his neck as he tilts his head back.
He really shouldn't be this good at it, either. One hand gripping the pole in a white knuckled hold, the leg on the opposite side hooked around the bar just a little higher up the way, it's twin stretched and curled out further still. He runs his free hand across the taught muscles of his belly, chest and neck, lingering back down to tease the hem of his own shorts.
Shorts that some people could swear belonged to a pink haired kunoichi.
He's glad that he only has a minimal amount of gel in his hair tonight too, the soft spikes on the back of his head only fluff out of place for a moment, his long bangs falling even further to reveal the emotion lacking face of the youngest Uchiha left. His eyes are dark.
His eyes are so dark, that you can't really tell where exactly he's looking when he lets slip a figure of ecstasy morph his expression.
Even when he slides lower down the pole, back arching in a way that shouldn't be allowed for a boy, his hips end up undulating to the soft pulsing rhythm of the background beat. Heeled boots tap to a land on the stage platform, and after one final swing around the pole, he leaves through the curtain.
There's a total of four seconds of silence, before the sound of cheering and money being tossed onto the stage is heard. It's a good thing the crowd is loud, because it's dousing the sound of a certain blond dumbfuck's hand slapping hard against the dancer's ass. Sasuke doesn't yelp. He's too good for it.
Maybe Sakura's shorts are a little too tight.
And maybe he doesn't mind doing it all that much. It turns them on in such a way that he can live with the oddity of an Uchiha pole dancing.
Hope you like it, Asuka~
But I have this one picture of Sasuke. And it's the most horrifying and awesome thing I've seen in a long time. So I wrote about it. Heh.
He didn't like doing it.
The bar was always cold by the start of the night. And he never did like baring this much flesh. Open kimono shirts were one thing. Legs and a completely bare top was another level entirely.
He might've liked the boots though. They made him taller, even if he didn't need the extra height. They were black though, so that was ok. Leather. Thick heeled... Yea, he didn't mind them. Even though he had a feeling they'd look just as good on Sakura, any day.
An hour later, and the bar isn't cold anymore. It's the same as his body temperature. Maybe even warmer.
Sasuke's back is paler than the other workers there, the colored lights reflecting off him giving the sweat sheened flesh a teasing pallet of hues. They dance around the ridges of soft muscle, curling light and dark over limbs and along the curve of his neck as he tilts his head back.
He really shouldn't be this good at it, either. One hand gripping the pole in a white knuckled hold, the leg on the opposite side hooked around the bar just a little higher up the way, it's twin stretched and curled out further still. He runs his free hand across the taught muscles of his belly, chest and neck, lingering back down to tease the hem of his own shorts.
Shorts that some people could swear belonged to a pink haired kunoichi.
He's glad that he only has a minimal amount of gel in his hair tonight too, the soft spikes on the back of his head only fluff out of place for a moment, his long bangs falling even further to reveal the emotion lacking face of the youngest Uchiha left. His eyes are dark.
His eyes are so dark, that you can't really tell where exactly he's looking when he lets slip a figure of ecstasy morph his expression.
Even when he slides lower down the pole, back arching in a way that shouldn't be allowed for a boy, his hips end up undulating to the soft pulsing rhythm of the background beat. Heeled boots tap to a land on the stage platform, and after one final swing around the pole, he leaves through the curtain.
There's a total of four seconds of silence, before the sound of cheering and money being tossed onto the stage is heard. It's a good thing the crowd is loud, because it's dousing the sound of a certain blond dumbfuck's hand slapping hard against the dancer's ass. Sasuke doesn't yelp. He's too good for it.
Maybe Sakura's shorts are a little too tight.
And maybe he doesn't mind doing it all that much. It turns them on in such a way that he can live with the oddity of an Uchiha pole dancing.
Hope you like it, Asuka~