Crack!fic - Sasuke-centric
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Sasuke --> Itachi
Genre: CRACK
Rating: PG?
Word Count: ~1800
Summary: OKAY SO THIS BIT OF CRACKTASTICNESS, see.
It's brought to you by Allie (stopcounting) and this fanart.
She said to me What would happen if Itachi came and ordered a milkshake. Would it bring the Sasukes to the yard?
The rest, as you shall see, is history.
God what have I created. D:
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Which is PROBABLY IN THEIR BEST INTEREST, all things considered.
Sasuke was more than a little annoyed with this so-called "mission". Of all the stupid things he'd ever had to do, this was...probably in the top three. Really, a waitress? Of all the fucking things. Where the hell did Kakashi come up with this crap?
He almost stormed out when the older shinobi handed him the rollerblades, though. Really, talk about insult to injury.
"No," he said.
"But Sasuke-kun. Sakura will be doing it, too," Kakashi said, smiling. His tone sounded almost as if he really wanted to be helpful and encouraging, but Sasuke knew him well enough to know it was a lie and a half.
The younger shinobi bristled. Of course Sakura being there would do him no good. It wasn't much better than that blond idiot being there, in his eyes. Well, maybe slightly. But not a whole hell of a lot.
He crossed his arms. "Hell no," he said, all snotty arrogance. "I am not doing this."
Kakashi's smile fell, and he shrugged. He'd been leaning over, down closer to Sasuke's height, but he straightened up now. "Well, if you think Naruto would do a better job, I guess I can ask--"
Sasuke bristled again, and said nothing; he merely reached up and grabbed the rollerblades from Kakashi and stormed off.
Bastard. That was probably exactly what he was going for, he thought as he stomped away down the hall. He didn't see Kakashi's smile return, but he really didn't need to.
At least Naruto wouldn't be around to see it. That would have been even more unbearable. As it was, no one would know him, so long as he could manage to ignore - or avoid - Sakura. That was what he had to keep telling himself. It was just...for anonymity. Though how anyone could be anonymous in a pink and orange skirt, he would never know.
On the way to the restaurant, he was contemplating ways to kill Kakashi in his mind. It had to be good, look like an accident. He'd only ever really wanted to kill Itachi previously, so thinking of killing someone else was entirely new territory for him. But this mission might really warrant it...
He ended up trailing off on that train of thought as soon as he got where he was going. Well, it couldn't be that hard. He was good at memorizing, and that's all that that serving food required, wasn't it?
He listened to the other alleged shinobi (he couldn't be sure, not with that stupid outfit on) tell him what he had to do. He digested as much of it as he felt was necessary, and not a word more, then skated off, teeth clenched, toward a table to take the customer's order.
Sasuke moved past Sakura, who was just arriving, so fast that she almost fell off her skates. She yelled something after him that he didn't bother to hear, and went about his business, trying his best to ignore the outfit. He hadn't figured out if he was supposed to actually pretend to be a girl but he didn't care. Pretending to be a girl was more Naruto's thing than his. He couldn't be bothered with something so ridiculous. This was bad enough without doing something like that.
Two hours later, Sakura had three times the tips he did. He didn't let on that he knew that, but he did, and it irked him. What was he doing wrong, anyway? He'd put on the goddamn skirt, too. Sure, she was actually a girl, but she wasn't all that curvy, and last he'd checked she wasn't even all that nice. Though he'd seen her try to turn on the charm when she was drooling over him. Did that kind of crap actually get her somewhere for this mission?
The thought of it made him feel vaguely ill. He'd never understand why other males liked that kind of behavior. He couldn't stand it.
They only had another hour left. He couldn't fail this badly. He just could not.
He skated over to the next table he saw someone sat and and tried to look less irritated. He wasn't sure he succeed, but that wasn't the point just then.
"Take your order?" he asked, keeping his tone level, if not quite polite.
Sasuke hadn't been paying attention to the two people at the table. They were dressed inconspicuously, all things considered, and he hadn't felt their chakra signatures out. But as the dark-haired man on one side of the booth looked up and his eyes locked with Sasuke's, Sasuke felt his heart stop.
Itachi.
The other man, then, was Hoshigake Kisame, most likely. Sasuke didn't bother looking away from his brother to confirm or deny that. This was probably the worst thing that could have happened. Not only was he supposed to be some stupid goddamn waitress in a stupid goddamn skirt, but the man he hated more than anyone else in the entire world was sitting here - and he couldn't do anything about it. He'd blow the mission if he attacked Itachi. Not to mention the fact that he was nowhere near strong enough to take on his genius older brother. He'd lose in seconds, as he had before.
The Sharingan shone in his eyes, practically burning, but other than that, he did not dare to move. He was angry enough to be seeing, well, red. But there would be consequences for more than just him if he attacked Itachi right here. He wasn't sure he wanted to be that responsible. If his revenge was sure to be exacted, he wouldn't have thought twice, but...
Itachi raised an eyebrow, and his own eyes, red with his own Sharingan, moved down Sasuke's body, in no real hurry. He finally brought them back up and met Sasuke's angry gaze again, but he didn't seem to be in a hurry to speak.
Sasuke found himself still unable to move. What was more, he could feel color rise in his cheeks. Of all the people to see him in a fucking skirt, Itachi was the last one he'd ever have wanted. Even that idiot wouldn't have been this embarrassing, somehow. There was something about how Itachi looked at him that was both infuriating and humiliating. His hands clenched into fists at his sides after a moment, and his face burned.
Kisame looked back and forth between them, and actually laughed. Both brothers turned to look at him, although Sasuke's face was full of rage, while Itachi looked almost surprised.
"Oi, Itachi. You got the weirdest family I ever seen," he said, still laughing. He turned to Sasuke, unperturbed by the boy's death glare. "I just want some fries, kid. You manage it in that getup?"
Sasuke opened his mouth to rage at Kisame, but Itachi cut him off.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Itachi said, pointedly, still looking at Kisame, "I don't have any girls left in my family."
Sasuke's jaw dropped. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be insulted, or...was it possible that Itachi was actually pretending not to know him? Either way, he was plenty mad about it.
"I'd like a strawberry milkshake," Itachi said, glancing sideways at Sasuke.
Sasuke finally managed to shut his mouth. He knew if he said anything at all, he'd start screaming and never stop. He could feel his fingernails biting into his palms, and he was sure he'd never been this humiliated. As he skated back to the kitchen, he thought up at least a hundred ways to get back at Kakashi for this whole thing. Most of them involved lots and lots of pain for the copy-nin. Lots and lots of pain.
Sakura stopped him after he put in the order. "Sasuke-kun, did they say something to you? You shouldn't let anyone get to you! I think you make a good waitress!"
Sasuke's eyes, still red with Sharingan, narrowed at Sakura. He moved away from her and all but growled, "And you make an annoying teammate."
She looked hurt, but he couldn't be bothered to care. It was all he could do to stand around and wait without punching holes in the wall just to let out his aggression.
The fries and milkshake were ready much sooner than he'd have liked, and he took them over to the table where his brother and the obnoxious other missing-nin were waiting without saying a word.
He set them down on the table hard enough to clatter, but miraculously, nothing spilled at all. Kisame laughed again, and Itachi's mouth might have twitched slightly, but neither of them said anything to him. Sasuke skated back off and went and hid in the bathroom to try and calm down.
He locked the door behind him and stood against it, covering his face with his hands. This was one of the worst days ever. He wanted nothing more than to go out there and beat the life out of the brother that had destroyed everything he loved, but without some kind of assurance that he would win, jeopardizing even a stupid mission like this wasn't worth it. Not to mention the fact that if he got knocked out like last time, he'd be carried back to the village in this skirt. That would be unthinkable. He couldn't take that level of humiliation. It was bad enough that all this was happening in the first place!
He finally calmed enough to deactivate the Sharingan, and walked over to the mirror. He actually took a step back when he saw the blood on his face. How had that...
Looking down, he saw streaks smeared from the crescent marks left on his palms. He hadn't realized he'd been digging his nails in that hard. He hadn't really been thinking about it at the time, though. It didn't even sting, now, but he stared at the blood as if fascinated.
A few more moments passed, and he shook himself out of it. He washed his hands and his face in the sink, stood up straighter, and skated back into the dining area. He chanced looking over at the table where his brother had been before, but it was empty. An empty plate and mostly-empty glass were still there, waiting for him. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and went to go collect the dishes, swearing that this was his last table.
In the middle of the table, there was a bag full of much more money than even Sakura had managed to make in tips. Sasuke turned redder than before at that thought, though he was never entirely sure which one of them he thought left it for him.
Maybe he could extend his revenge to extend a certain blue-skinned shinobi along with his traitorous brother and the so-called teacher that was responsible for this mission in the first place...
Pairing: Sasuke --> Itachi
Genre: CRACK
Rating: PG?
Word Count: ~1800
Summary: OKAY SO THIS BIT OF CRACKTASTICNESS, see.
It's brought to you by Allie (stopcounting) and this fanart.
She said to me What would happen if Itachi came and ordered a milkshake. Would it bring the Sasukes to the yard?
The rest, as you shall see, is history.
God what have I created. D:
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Which is PROBABLY IN THEIR BEST INTEREST, all things considered.
Sasuke was more than a little annoyed with this so-called "mission". Of all the stupid things he'd ever had to do, this was...probably in the top three. Really, a waitress? Of all the fucking things. Where the hell did Kakashi come up with this crap?
He almost stormed out when the older shinobi handed him the rollerblades, though. Really, talk about insult to injury.
"No," he said.
"But Sasuke-kun. Sakura will be doing it, too," Kakashi said, smiling. His tone sounded almost as if he really wanted to be helpful and encouraging, but Sasuke knew him well enough to know it was a lie and a half.
The younger shinobi bristled. Of course Sakura being there would do him no good. It wasn't much better than that blond idiot being there, in his eyes. Well, maybe slightly. But not a whole hell of a lot.
He crossed his arms. "Hell no," he said, all snotty arrogance. "I am not doing this."
Kakashi's smile fell, and he shrugged. He'd been leaning over, down closer to Sasuke's height, but he straightened up now. "Well, if you think Naruto would do a better job, I guess I can ask--"
Sasuke bristled again, and said nothing; he merely reached up and grabbed the rollerblades from Kakashi and stormed off.
Bastard. That was probably exactly what he was going for, he thought as he stomped away down the hall. He didn't see Kakashi's smile return, but he really didn't need to.
At least Naruto wouldn't be around to see it. That would have been even more unbearable. As it was, no one would know him, so long as he could manage to ignore - or avoid - Sakura. That was what he had to keep telling himself. It was just...for anonymity. Though how anyone could be anonymous in a pink and orange skirt, he would never know.
On the way to the restaurant, he was contemplating ways to kill Kakashi in his mind. It had to be good, look like an accident. He'd only ever really wanted to kill Itachi previously, so thinking of killing someone else was entirely new territory for him. But this mission might really warrant it...
He ended up trailing off on that train of thought as soon as he got where he was going. Well, it couldn't be that hard. He was good at memorizing, and that's all that that serving food required, wasn't it?
He listened to the other alleged shinobi (he couldn't be sure, not with that stupid outfit on) tell him what he had to do. He digested as much of it as he felt was necessary, and not a word more, then skated off, teeth clenched, toward a table to take the customer's order.
Sasuke moved past Sakura, who was just arriving, so fast that she almost fell off her skates. She yelled something after him that he didn't bother to hear, and went about his business, trying his best to ignore the outfit. He hadn't figured out if he was supposed to actually pretend to be a girl but he didn't care. Pretending to be a girl was more Naruto's thing than his. He couldn't be bothered with something so ridiculous. This was bad enough without doing something like that.
Two hours later, Sakura had three times the tips he did. He didn't let on that he knew that, but he did, and it irked him. What was he doing wrong, anyway? He'd put on the goddamn skirt, too. Sure, she was actually a girl, but she wasn't all that curvy, and last he'd checked she wasn't even all that nice. Though he'd seen her try to turn on the charm when she was drooling over him. Did that kind of crap actually get her somewhere for this mission?
The thought of it made him feel vaguely ill. He'd never understand why other males liked that kind of behavior. He couldn't stand it.
They only had another hour left. He couldn't fail this badly. He just could not.
He skated over to the next table he saw someone sat and and tried to look less irritated. He wasn't sure he succeed, but that wasn't the point just then.
"Take your order?" he asked, keeping his tone level, if not quite polite.
Sasuke hadn't been paying attention to the two people at the table. They were dressed inconspicuously, all things considered, and he hadn't felt their chakra signatures out. But as the dark-haired man on one side of the booth looked up and his eyes locked with Sasuke's, Sasuke felt his heart stop.
Itachi.
The other man, then, was Hoshigake Kisame, most likely. Sasuke didn't bother looking away from his brother to confirm or deny that. This was probably the worst thing that could have happened. Not only was he supposed to be some stupid goddamn waitress in a stupid goddamn skirt, but the man he hated more than anyone else in the entire world was sitting here - and he couldn't do anything about it. He'd blow the mission if he attacked Itachi. Not to mention the fact that he was nowhere near strong enough to take on his genius older brother. He'd lose in seconds, as he had before.
The Sharingan shone in his eyes, practically burning, but other than that, he did not dare to move. He was angry enough to be seeing, well, red. But there would be consequences for more than just him if he attacked Itachi right here. He wasn't sure he wanted to be that responsible. If his revenge was sure to be exacted, he wouldn't have thought twice, but...
Itachi raised an eyebrow, and his own eyes, red with his own Sharingan, moved down Sasuke's body, in no real hurry. He finally brought them back up and met Sasuke's angry gaze again, but he didn't seem to be in a hurry to speak.
Sasuke found himself still unable to move. What was more, he could feel color rise in his cheeks. Of all the people to see him in a fucking skirt, Itachi was the last one he'd ever have wanted. Even that idiot wouldn't have been this embarrassing, somehow. There was something about how Itachi looked at him that was both infuriating and humiliating. His hands clenched into fists at his sides after a moment, and his face burned.
Kisame looked back and forth between them, and actually laughed. Both brothers turned to look at him, although Sasuke's face was full of rage, while Itachi looked almost surprised.
"Oi, Itachi. You got the weirdest family I ever seen," he said, still laughing. He turned to Sasuke, unperturbed by the boy's death glare. "I just want some fries, kid. You manage it in that getup?"
Sasuke opened his mouth to rage at Kisame, but Itachi cut him off.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Itachi said, pointedly, still looking at Kisame, "I don't have any girls left in my family."
Sasuke's jaw dropped. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be insulted, or...was it possible that Itachi was actually pretending not to know him? Either way, he was plenty mad about it.
"I'd like a strawberry milkshake," Itachi said, glancing sideways at Sasuke.
Sasuke finally managed to shut his mouth. He knew if he said anything at all, he'd start screaming and never stop. He could feel his fingernails biting into his palms, and he was sure he'd never been this humiliated. As he skated back to the kitchen, he thought up at least a hundred ways to get back at Kakashi for this whole thing. Most of them involved lots and lots of pain for the copy-nin. Lots and lots of pain.
Sakura stopped him after he put in the order. "Sasuke-kun, did they say something to you? You shouldn't let anyone get to you! I think you make a good waitress!"
Sasuke's eyes, still red with Sharingan, narrowed at Sakura. He moved away from her and all but growled, "And you make an annoying teammate."
She looked hurt, but he couldn't be bothered to care. It was all he could do to stand around and wait without punching holes in the wall just to let out his aggression.
The fries and milkshake were ready much sooner than he'd have liked, and he took them over to the table where his brother and the obnoxious other missing-nin were waiting without saying a word.
He set them down on the table hard enough to clatter, but miraculously, nothing spilled at all. Kisame laughed again, and Itachi's mouth might have twitched slightly, but neither of them said anything to him. Sasuke skated back off and went and hid in the bathroom to try and calm down.
He locked the door behind him and stood against it, covering his face with his hands. This was one of the worst days ever. He wanted nothing more than to go out there and beat the life out of the brother that had destroyed everything he loved, but without some kind of assurance that he would win, jeopardizing even a stupid mission like this wasn't worth it. Not to mention the fact that if he got knocked out like last time, he'd be carried back to the village in this skirt. That would be unthinkable. He couldn't take that level of humiliation. It was bad enough that all this was happening in the first place!
He finally calmed enough to deactivate the Sharingan, and walked over to the mirror. He actually took a step back when he saw the blood on his face. How had that...
Looking down, he saw streaks smeared from the crescent marks left on his palms. He hadn't realized he'd been digging his nails in that hard. He hadn't really been thinking about it at the time, though. It didn't even sting, now, but he stared at the blood as if fascinated.
A few more moments passed, and he shook himself out of it. He washed his hands and his face in the sink, stood up straighter, and skated back into the dining area. He chanced looking over at the table where his brother had been before, but it was empty. An empty plate and mostly-empty glass were still there, waiting for him. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and went to go collect the dishes, swearing that this was his last table.
In the middle of the table, there was a bag full of much more money than even Sakura had managed to make in tips. Sasuke turned redder than before at that thought, though he was never entirely sure which one of them he thought left it for him.
Maybe he could extend his revenge to extend a certain blue-skinned shinobi along with his traitorous brother and the so-called teacher that was responsible for this mission in the first place...