By the time the first round of desserts had circulated, Naruto was good and properly fucked up. Kiba and his college buddies had kept shoving shots at him—"For the big city hotshot!" they'd said, and wasn't that funny? Him, a hotshot? The room tilted pleasantly. Why were cheesecakes always so... cheesy? No, creamy. Words were stupid. The party had gotten louder somehow. Kids zooming around like tiny drunk people (but they weren't drunk, he was drunk, very drunk), and the adults all huddled up like... like penguins. Penguins with shot glasses. Heh.
His brain felt wrapped in cotton candy. Pink and sticky and spinning. The Christmas lights did that thing again—that streaky-trail thing like in those long-exposure photos. Pretty. He needed to pee. Or maybe just escape. Both? Both was good. "Bathroom," he announced to nobody in particular, and then forgot who he was talking to anyway.
The hallway was better. Quieter. Cooler. Left or right for the bathroom? Right was always right, right? That was funny too. He'd tell Kiba later. His phone was important for some reason, so he clutched it tighter. The wall felt nice under his fingers. Solid. Unlike his legs, which had apparently turned into noodles. Ramen noodles. God, he was hungry again.
He rounded a corner and—BAM!—something solid.
The world spun, but something caught him. A hand. A warm hand. He was falling and not-falling all at once, like that dream where you jerk awake right before hitting the ground.
Naruto blinked. The fog cleared for one perfect, terrible second, and holy shit—Sasuke.
Up close, the Sasuke-shaped hallucination wavered at the edges, too perfect to be real. His skin was pale and sharp-edged, jaw dusted with the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. The collar of his turtleneck was soft black, framing his neck and jawline in a way that made Naruto's mouth go dry. Naruto blinked hard, waiting for the apparition to dissolve. The real Sasuke wouldn't be here, wouldn't touch him—yet the hand on his arm felt solid, warm, steadying rather than restraining.
Naruto tried to speak, but the words tangled in his throat and came out as a half-choked grunt. He licked his lips, which were suddenly parched, and squinted, still expecting the mirage to vanish.
"Hey," he said to the ghost from his past, the syllable sticking in his mouth like a piece of caramel. "You're not really here, are you?"
Sasuke's mouth twitched. "You're drunk."
Naruto bristled, straightening his back with exaggerated effort. "Not—'m fine. Just needed some air."
Sasuke's eyes flicked over Naruto's face, narrowing slightly at the corners. "You look like you're about to pass out."
The voice was too real—that specific baritone Naruto would recognize anywhere, even through the fog of tequila shots. This wasn't some drunken hallucination; hallucinations didn't smell like expensive cologne with undertones of winter air. Naruto poked Sasuke's chest with his finger. Solid. Warm. Definitely real.
"Huh. S'really you," Naruto mumbled, swaying forward. "Whatever. Too drunk for this shit."
He attempted to take a dignified step back, but the floor tipped beneath him. Sasuke caught him with both hands—one gripping his arm, the other braced against his chest. Naruto's skin buzzed at the contact, but he was too far gone to hide from it.
"Let go," Naruto mumbled, making zero effort to pull away.
Sasuke's grip tightened just enough. "If I let go, you're going to eat shit on the carpet."
Naruto barked a laugh, then clapped a hand over his mouth as the hallway spun. "Not the first time," he slurred, then giggled despite himself.
They stood frozen, Christmas music filtering in from the living room. Naruto stared at the collar of Sasuke's shirt, thinking hazily that tomorrow he'd probably care about all this.
Naruto looked up and caught Sasuke's eyes, dark and shining in the low light. His brain short-circuited. Pretty. Always so pretty. No, wait—enemy. Bastard. Focus.
"Why're you even talking to me?" he asked, the words tumbling out like marbles. "Thought you hated me. Hated my guts. Hated my... everything." His thoughts leaked from his mouth before he could stop them. "Said I was disgusting."
Sasuke's face went unreadable. For a moment, Naruto thought he wouldn't answer. Then, very quietly, Sasuke said, "It's Christmas. Even I have limits."
"Christmas," Naruto echoed, a laugh bubbling up that felt dangerously close to a sob. "You're an ass. Still so... so beautiful though. Fuck. Didn't say that out loud, did I?"
"Still better than being a lightweight," Sasuke replied, something flickering behind his eyes.
The insult stung, and for a second Naruto wanted to throw a punch or a clever comeback, but his body was made of pudding and his mind couldn't keep up. Instead, he sagged against the wall, letting Sasuke hold him up, thinking hazily how unfair it was that after everything, Sasuke's touch still felt like coming home.
Sasuke sighed—that sound, that exact sound from when Naruto would mess up calculus problems at 2AM and Sasuke would have to fix them. "Come on. Let's get you some water." His voice was gruff, but his thumb brushed against Naruto's shoulder twice, almost like a caress.
"Don't need your help," Naruto mumbled, even as he leaned into Sasuke's side. "M'fine. Totally fine. You smell good. Wait. Didn't mean that."
The corner of Sasuke's mouth twitched upward for a fraction of a second before he caught himself.
Sasuke's arm came around his shoulders, steadying him as they shuffled down the hall. The ceiling lights blurred into streaks above them. Sasuke's fingers pressed into his arm—warm, strong, familiar—and his grip tightened just slightly when Naruto swayed closer.
"Your hands are still the same," Naruto blurted. "Remember when we held hands that time at the lake? Before you hated me? God, why'm I saying this stuff?"
Sasuke's breath caught, almost imperceptibly. His eyes softened at the corners as he guided Naruto into the bathroom, flipped on the light and deposited him onto the toilet seat. Naruto's head lolled back against the tank.
"You're still so... so... efficient," Naruto slurred as Sasuke retrieved pills from the cabinet. "Like a sexy robot. Did I say sexy? I meant stupid. Stupid robot."
Sasuke ducked his head to hide the genuine smile that broke through his composure. When he turned back, his face was neutral again, but his eyes remained warmer than before.
"Drink," he said, pressing a glass into Naruto's palm, his fingertips lingering a moment longer than necessary.
Naruto gulped half the water, then sputtered as it went down wrong, droplets spraying onto Sasuke's expensive shirt. Sasuke flinched back but didn't snap at him—just dabbed at the wet spots with his sleeve, that ghost of a smile still playing at the corner of his mouth.
The bathroom light buzzed overhead like an angry bee. Naruto's thoughts swam loose and dangerous. Pretty mouth. Still has that tiny scar above his lip from when we fell out of that tree. Wonder if he still tastes like—
"You didn't have to do this," Naruto blurted, desperate to drown out his own thoughts. "Could've just left me face-down on the carpet."
Sasuke's eyes flickered—was that hurt?—before he shrugged. "Would've been embarrassing. For both of us."
Naruto tried to laugh, but it came out hollow. The water in his glass rippled as his hand trembled. "You really fucking hated me, didn't you?" The words spilled out like vomit. "Called me—called me disgusting. Said I was sick. Remember that? God, I just told you I loved you and you—" He hiccupped, sloshing water onto his jeans.
Sasuke's shoulders pulled back. His fingers curled against the sink edge until his knuckles blanched white.
"I didn't hate you," Sasuke said, voice tight as a wire.
"Bullshit." Naruto's head lolled back. "You said—what was it?—you could never love someone like me. Someone like me." He jabbed his own chest, water glass forgotten. "What'd that even mean, huh? Gay? Stupid? Not good enough for the perfect Uchiha?"
Sasuke's jaw clenched. His eyes darted to the door, then back to Naruto, something raw flickering across his face.
"People change," he said finally, barely audible.
Naruto snorted, the room spinning. "Yeah? Well, you changed me. Congrats."
Sasuke's throat worked as he swallowed. He stood and opened the door, hesitating. "Sleep it off," he said, voice gentler than Naruto remembered it could be. "It's a long party."
Naruto nodded, unable to form words, and listened as Sasuke's footsteps faded down the hall.
He sat there for a while, the bathroom tiles swimming beneath him. Stupid Sasuke. Stupid perfect face. Stupid hands that still felt the same. The memory of those fingers against his arm burned hotter than the tequila in his veins. His own hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the sink and pulled himself upright.
He stumbled toward his old bedroom, then froze mid-step. But what if Sasuke wanted to talk more? What if this was his only chance? What if ten years from now he'd be lying awake wondering what would've happened if he'd followed? The alcohol whispered that brave decisions happened now, not tomorrow. Wisdom was for sober people. He pivoted, nearly toppling over, and lurched down the hallway after Sasuke.