"I'm sure you're not going to care, it's very weak of me," Haru tells Sasuke, almost casual. "I'm in love with you. It's not hero-worship. It's not a phase. I am not confused." Silence. Sasuke's expression doesn't change at all. Haru knows better than to think he didn't hear, or misunderstood. He probably suspected it a while ago. But it's alright (it's not, it hurts.) This isn't the reason Haru brought them both here.

bkprsn101 (18:16:50):I had, like, five minutes bkprsn101 (18:16:57):and then there was Dave/Naruto Askerian (18:17:04):i’d say i’m sorry but i’d be lying

It’s not like it’s rare at his gigs for someone to sidle up to the booth and go, “Hey! Nice music!”, grinning and interested. "If you’re hitting on me, queue’s on your left," Dave replies, and then he looks.

"Holy crap", the guy says, sprawled on Dave’s bed with arms akimbo. Dave swallows a smirk, and pushes his hand off so he can lay down beside him, side by side. No contact though, they’re both too warm and sweaty.

"You can't tell me you didn't pick up jack shit while you were living with the tongue freak and his harem of boytoys." It shouldn't be difficult for three teammates and friends to figure out how they fit, both figuratively, and... not. And yet.

"If you're hitting on me, queue's to your left," Dave replies, and then he looks. The man has nice arms. Solid shoulders, strong biceps. Baby face still, baby-blue eyes in the white strobe lights and friendly dimples. Someone got him with funny cat-whiskers paint that's just subtle enough to tickle Dave's funny bone, but with a body like that he's got to be at least twenty. "What, no!" The man blushes so hard Dave can see his face darken even through the flashing lighting and dim of the dance floor. He actually honest-to-God flails his hands, what a dork. "I just -- argh, and you totally know that, don't you?" -- Anonymous asked: Dave/Naruto, hooking up at a house party (papabrostrider is to blame for this one)

"Oh," Izuna said -- delicately, while studiously reading his folder, "I'm afraid we need someone with a ... strong personality for Naohime." "Why's that?" Hashirama replied, just as painfully polite. The daimyo's mediator kept watching them and scratching little pointy words in his notebook. "Because if your man doesn't prove that he's dangerous and has the personality to use it on her if she pushes him, it's going to turn abusive," Madara drawled. Hashirama stared at him for a blank second. The daimyo's envoy stopped writing; even his stone-faced Aburame bodyguard arched her eyebrows over her darkened spectacles. Tobirama stretched out across the table without another word to take back one of the folders Izuna had spread around him. -- The daimyo is over the whole Uchiha/Senju war. They're going to become one people if they know what's good for them. Madara hates it enough without having to marry a woman too.