Chapter Text
Sasuke was furious.
Instead of driving him home, his chauffeur had delivered him to an unfamiliar restaurant on the edge of the city—under Itachi’s orders, of course. And if his brother was setting up an ambush like this, Sasuke knew it couldn’t mean anything good.
He exhaled sharply, forcing down the irritation threatening to spill over, and stalked toward the entrance. Inside, he asked the hostess for the Uchiha reservation. She greeted him with a practiced smile and led him through the hushed restaurant, past polished wood screens and low, ambient lighting. The faint strains of classical music seemed to press on his chest, feeding the tension already coiled tight in his ribs.
The hostess stopped before a sliding door and opened it with a graceful bow. “This way, sir.”
Sasuke stepped into the private dining room, the muted lamplight spilling across lacquered walls and a low table set for two. Only Itachi was there, sitting in calm composure as though this were an ordinary dinner.
Sasuke frowned, his jaw tight, and took the seat opposite his brother.
“Why did you kidnap me?” he asked coldly, annoyance dripping from every syllable.
“Oh, hello to you too,” Itachi replied dryly, one brow arching in faint amusement.
Sasuke glared, but Itachi remained unruffled.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” his brother continued, smooth as ever. The silence that followed stretched until Sasuke finally sighed, conceding the performance.
“I’m okay,” he said flatly.
“Good,” Itachi said, his tone shifting into something more deliberate as he leaned forward. “Because there’s something important we need to discuss.”
Sasuke didn’t miss the choice of words. Need, not want.
“I’ve hired you a bodyguard,” Itachi said bluntly.
Sasuke’s head snapped up. “A what?”
“A bodyguard.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Sasuke scoffed, incredulous. “And I certainly don’t want one.”
“It’s not about what you want,” Itachi said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of finality. “He’ll be living with you. Monitoring you. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”
For a moment, Sasuke could only stare, stunned into silence. Twenty-four-seven? What kind of person would even accept a job like that? Heat surged through him, anger boiling beneath his skin until his fists clenched tight under the table.
“That’s not a bodyguard—that’s a damn nanny!” he snapped. “I’m almost thirty, Itachi, not a child you can order around!”
Itachi remained calm, meeting his brother’s defiant glare without so much as a flinch. “I’m serious, Sasuke. With everything going on, I’m not willing to take risks.”
Before Sasuke could fire back, the door slid open.
A tall figure stepped inside, and Sasuke braced himself to unleash another retort—until his gaze locked onto a pair of bright blue eyes. The words died in his throat.
Naruto Uzumaki stood in the doorway.
For a heartbeat, Sasuke forgot how to breathe. His childhood friend—his first love—was here, alive in flesh and bone after more than a decade. Taller now. Broader. Solid in a way that made the years and distance painfully obvious.
Naruto was the first to break eye contact, offering Itachi a firm handshake with a familiar grin. “Good to see you again, Itachi.”
“Likewise, Naruto,” Itachi replied smoothly, returning the shake. “Have a seat.”
Naruto slid into the chair across from Sasuke, casual yet composed. Sasuke, meanwhile, struggled to reconcile the boy he remembered with the man before him. The difference was jarring—his shoulders squared with quiet strength, muscles evident even beneath the simple black hoodie he wore. His hair was cropped shorter than Sasuke remembered, and his eyes… his eyes carried a weight, a maturity, that hadn’t been there before.
Itachi’s voice cut through the haze. “Was your flight alright?”
“Better than a lot I’ve had,” Naruto chuckled. “Though you didn’t need to put me on the private jet.”
“Consider it a small reward for what you’re about to take on,” Itachi said with a smirk, casting a sidelong glance at his brother.
Sasuke snapped out of his daze, irritation surging back. “Would you stop talking about me like I’m some helpless kid?” he snapped.
Naruto’s laugh was easy, teasing. “Maybe I should’ve asked for a bigger salary, then,” he quipped, the humor landing effortlessly with Itachi. Sasuke, however, only scowled deeper, heat crawling up the back of his neck.
Their conversation was interrupted as waitstaff slipped in, laying out an immaculate meal before vanishing again as silently as they’d come. The door shut, leaving only the three of them and the low hum of music beyond the walls.
“I’m grateful you agreed to this, Naruto,” Itachi said once the plates were arranged. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”
“With the offer you made, it was hard to turn down,” Naruto replied lightly, though his gaze flicked briefly to Sasuke. His expression was unreadable. “Besides, I read about the kidnapping attempt. And… Itachi filled me in on other things.”
Sasuke stiffened, a wave of humiliation prickling through him. He hadn’t realized his brother would lay everything bare—especially not to Naruto. He shifted in his seat, bristling under the weight of those blue eyes.
“I partied a few times, and suddenly it’s the end of the world?” he muttered.
“Pictures of you doing cocaine are a big deal,” Itachi said flatly.
“It happened once,” Sasuke snapped back, defensive heat in his tone.
“It only takes once for someone to use it as blackmail,” Itachi countered coolly. “And for the record, it was thanks to Naruto that those photos never saw the light of day.”
Sasuke blinked, momentarily stunned. He’d known Itachi handled the mess, but Naruto?
Naruto lifted a hand in a modest shrug. “Not me, actually. I’m not that great with tech. A friend helped and dis all the work.”
“I—” Sasuke began, but Itachi cut across him like a blade.
“Enough,” his brother said, finality ringing in his voice. “Naruto will be your bodyguard. End of discussion.”
Naruto broke the heavy silence with a chuckle. “You mean babysitter,” he teased, clearly having caught Sasuke’s earlier remark. The corner of his mouth quirked upward, and for just a second, the years between them felt thinner.
Sasuke crossed his arms tightly, retreating into silence. Fighting Itachi now would be useless, but betrayal clawed at his chest. To be ambushed like this, with Naruto of all people—forced into his home, his space, his every day.
He sat stiffly as Itachi and Naruto fell into easy conversation, discussing logistics, security, contingencies. Sasuke’s eyes lingered on them, bitter jealousy twisting in his gut. Naruto fit into Itachi’s world too comfortably, his laugh soft and sure, his presence steady.
Sasuke’s own voice felt locked in his throat. The last time they had spoken was more than twelve years ago. And though he knew it was his fault, the silence between them now felt like a wound that had never healed.
Anger simmered low. Regret lurked just beneath. And threaded through both was something far more dangerous—something Sasuke couldn’t yet name.
This was going to be far more complicated than he’d imagined.
Dinner passed in a blur for Sasuke.
He pushed food around his plate, barely tasting a thing while Naruto and Itachi carried on with quiet efficiency—security arrangements, routines, back-up plans. Sasuke’s mind wandered, drifting between resentment and disbelief. Every time his gaze flicked across the table and caught on blond hair or blue eyes, something inside him tightened.
When at last Itachi signaled the end of the meeting, Sasuke rose without a word, brushing past his brother’s calm farewell. Naruto followed, silent but steady, as if the years apart had never existed.
Outside, the chauffeur was already waiting. The ride back to the city stretched long and suffocating. Dim lights flickered past the tinted windows, washing Sasuke in pale neon while silence pressed in around them.
Naruto sat across from him in the spacious car, arms folded loosely, posture relaxed in a way that made Sasuke grit his teeth. Not a single word passed between them, though Sasuke felt the weight of Naruto’s presence acutely—as if every inch of the car was charged.
He wanted to speak. To ask something. Anything. But the words refused to come, caught between pride and years of silence. So instead, he turned his gaze to the passing streets, jaw tight, hands clenched loosely in his lap.
The drive ended at one of the city’s most exclusive towers. Sleek glass and steel rose into the night sky, reflecting a constellation of lights. The penthouse was Sasuke’s sanctuary, the one place where he could breathe without scrutiny. Yet tonight, stepping out of the car with Naruto at his side, even this place felt like enemy territory.
The doorman greeted him with polished courtesy, and the private elevator carried them upward in silence. The only sounds were the low hum of machinery and the faint rustle of clothing. The tension between them felt nearly physical—thick, suffocating, impossible to ignore.
When the elevator doors opened to reveal the penthouse, cool modern lines stretched out before them: floor-to-ceiling windows spilling city lights into the living room, minimalist furniture in shades of charcoal and steel, everything immaculate and sharp-edged.
Sasuke stepped inside first, tugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the back of the couch. He turned just in time to see Naruto linger in the entryway, his gaze sweeping over the space with quiet curiosity.
It was strange, Sasuke realized, to see him here. Strange and unsettling in a way he wasn’t ready to put into words.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Sasuke muttered at last, his voice cool and clipped as he moved deeper into the penthouse.
Naruto’s reply came lightly, but there was steel beneath it. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
The air hung thick between them, the city glittering beyond the glass, two men standing on opposite sides of a history neither of them had yet dared to touch.
Naruto shut the door quietly behind him, the soft click echoing in the sleek silence of the penthouse. He let his duffel bag drop onto the polished floor, exhaling a long breath as if shedding the weight of the tense dinner and the even heavier silence of the drive back. For a moment he closed his eyes, grounding himself, then looked up at Sasuke. Something in the dark-haired man’s posture—rigid shoulders, hands buried in his pockets—told Naruto he was bracing for a fight.
Naruto lifted his hands slightly, a gesture of peace. His voice was calm, steady.
“Look, Sasuke… I’m not the enemy here. My job is to protect you.”
He tried to soften the edge in his tone, to play it nice, but his words carried a firmness that couldn’t be ignored. “So let’s make this as comfortable as possible—for both of us. That means rules. I only have three.”
Naruto straightened, his expression sharpening into something more methodical, more professional.
“One: you never lie to me. Two: if something happens, you tell me. And three: never enter my room when the door’s closed.”
The shift was palpable—what started as casual talk suddenly carried the weight of command. His blue eyes held Sasuke’s, unwavering. “Now… what are yours?”
Sasuke hesitated, a flicker of resistance crossing his face before he replied, his voice low and measured:
“One: don’t treat me like a child—I can take care of myself. Two: don’t talk to the press. And three: don’t assume you know what’s best for me.”
The words hung in the air between them, sharp as glass. Two sets of rules, two wills colliding, yet bound to coexist under the same roof.
After a brief silence, Naruto let out a dry chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.
“So… are you gonna show me my room, or should I just crash on the couch?” he asked, his tone lighter this time, a clear attempt at easing the tension.
Sasuke’s gaze lingered on him for a beat too long, unreadable as ever. Then he turned on his heel with a quiet sigh.
“Follow me.”
They moved down the hallway, the penthouse swallowing Naruto in a world of muted luxury—clean lines, glass, and shadow. The city lights bled through floor-to-ceiling windows, scattering faint reflections across the polished wood. It was the kind of place that looked more like a showcase than a home, too pristine, too controlled.
Sasuke stopped in front of a door and opened it, stepping aside.
“This will be your room.”
Naruto glanced inside: a spacious guest bedroom, minimal but comfortable, with crisp sheets tucked so tightly it looked military. He dropped his duffel on the bed, then leaned against the doorframe, watching Sasuke.
“Not bad,” Naruto said with a half-smile. “Better than most places I’ve stayed on the job.”
Sasuke only crossed his arms, but didn’t say anything.
Naruto raised a brow at that, reading the challenge beneath the words. Still, he didn’t push. Instead, he shrugged, stepped into the room, and tossed himself onto the mattress, arms spread.
“Guess we’ll see how this works out.”
From the doorway, Sasuke studied him for another second, then finally muttered, “I don’t like noise at night.” And with that, he walked away, leaving Naruto in the silence of his new territory.
Naruto stared at the room and quietly pull out his belongings from his bag. He knew that him and Sasuke hadn't end up things good but it wasn’t really his fault.—but he knew he couldn't back down now