Sasuke turned his back on him, and Naruto expected that to be the end of the conversation. He’d never managed to talk the Uchiha into compliance before, and had no reason to believe that this time would be any different.Singing the song now was different. Sasuke was acutely aware the other’s presence in the room and was thus singing with a semblance of self-consciousness. Every note, every articulated word, he was aware of listening ears. First when singing this, it had only been a tune, a memory played out in sound, he hadn’t really been paying attention to what he was doing, but he found that he indeed remembered all the words.
So, as the silence stretched on between them, broken only by the sounds of Sasuke cooking, Naruto began to idly drum his fingers against the line of his jaw. He was disappointed, yes, but not overly surprised at Sasuke’s need to keep his personal life personal. The Uchiha had…. well, he’d gone through a lot, and the fact that he’d told Naruto what he’d told him was enough.
A small smile graced Naruto’s lips, and his fingers silently tapped out the tune he’d heard only a few minutes before. They stilled, however, when the soft murmur of Sasuke’s voice once again drifted through the otherwise silent kitchen.
“I still imagine your touch. It’s beautiful missing something that much…”
Slowly, Naruto lifted his head, and lowered his hands gently. The pads of his fingers felt warm against the linoleum of the breakfast tabletop, and his blue eyes watched the Uchiha’s back avidly, as though barely daring to believe what the other was doing.
“But sometimes love needs a fighting chance. So I’ll wait my turn until it’s our turn to dance.”
He barely breathed until the other had finished, not wanting to disturb him. Not wanting to break the spell, nor wanting to disrespect the Uchiha when he was, reluctantly, allowing Naruto an insight to his childhood.
The wooden spoon clipped the side of the pot, and the sound of it jerked Naruto back into whatever consciousness he’d apparently left. “That was- that’s…” What did he even say though? ‘Thanks for singing that song Sasuke; i feel like i know you better already!’?? A pink tongue flit out to wet his chapped lips, and Naruto’s fingers began to absently drum against the tabletop again. It was more than just the song. It was the importance of it that struck a chord within the blond. This song was an important part of Sasuke’s childhood; so much so that he’d remembered every word years after he’d heard it last. The raven’s childhood was a private matter he’d kept to himself even before the deaths of his family, and even as his best friend Naruto knew shockingly little. And Naruto had accepted that.
But, if only a little…. the blond felt as though he’d been let in. He’d been given something that nobody else had ever seen. Sasuke had trusted him with the words his mother had told him, even though he so clearly still clutched them to his own heart.
Naruto exhaled, and it sounded loud in the silence of the room.
He knew Sasuke would understand.
He stared into the pot, having no reason other than a distraction to keep stirring. It was weird how silent it could sometimes be around here, and he was confronted with this fact again when his voice died down. Of course the relative silence was almost deafening, since only seconds ago, there’d been song.
he had expected Naruto to say something. Actually, he’d expected him to say a lot, but it seemed the other was having trouble finding words. Sasuke watched bubbles coming up in the stew.
When Naruto thanked him, he visibly started, tensing only slightly for a moment. When he relaxed again, he shrugged. He didn’t know if Naruto was even watching him. But he probably was.
"Hn. Whatever.." he mutters in answer, though they both know that it isn’t 'whatever' at all. Sasuke drops the spoon in the pot with a metallic thud and grabs for the handle. He’s burning himself, and he should have been faster releasing his grip, but he hardly cares, perhaps it had felt like fire in his fingertips, and that wasn’t something he was a stranger to. Yet fire burns.. And it doesn’t always work the way you want it to. He only curses under his breath. Looking down at his hand, he can see a blister forming, angry and red. Without any further acknowledgement to his momentary fit of dimwittedness, he grabs a towel and uses it to pick up the pot again, which he moves to the kitchen-table.
"Dinner’s ready." Dinner, in this instance, is hotpot with pork and yes, Naruto, vegetables. Sasuke sat down, and sighed, remembering that he’d forgotten plates and cutlery. God, casual life was hard.