Telephone Line
9:48PM

a/n: This is the unedited version! I couldn't wait to post it (seeing as how it's been a helluva long time since my last posting…); however, the edited version from my Beta will be updated once I get it back.

ENJOY! :D

For the past ten minutes, pounding of a thundering quality had been going on.

Sasuke didn't know how much longer his door could suffer under the clobbering.

The raucous, obnoxious knocking could be heard throughout the hallway. To add to the rising noise level, a loudmouthed idiot shouted his plea - over and over - to gain entrance. The individual raining blows on the already beaten door was a blonde with brightly brilliant, blue eyes. He also failed to notice when he was causing a disservice to others - such as he was doing now.

Plainly put, he was a dobe.

With the idiot was a socially-inept man; a man who thought it was customary to talk about the male anatomy. Specifically, the male sex organ. This dark-haired individual was also an aspiring artist. However, despite his talents with a paintbrush, the awkward male's topic of choice usually brought questions about his sexuality to mind. He was just too hard to read at times; especially in regards to which gender he preferred.

This guy, too, was an idiot.

Sasuke knew he should get up to answer the door, but his current position on his couch - that was stuffed just right - was far too comfortable. He was not the type of guy who usually welcomed relaxation; he was a man of action, constantly wanting to be doing something.

Yet, his previous conversation with his girlfriend caused him to indirectly - at least, on the outside - unwind, and become one with his furniture.

Nevertheless, on the inside, Sasuke was anything but calm. Despite fitting the image of a man putting his feet up and relaxing on his sofa, Sasuke, internally, was a distressed mess. Numerous thoughts questioning his girlfriend's whereabouts and activities plagued him.

Not aware that nearly an hour or more had passed - and subconsciously ignoring his best friend's noisiness (really, this was second nature to him) - the same thought ate away at him.

Who was the male voice on the other end of the line?

So, for an indefinite amount of time (to Sasuke, at least), Sasuke sat on his couch staring at nothing in particular on his ceiling. Nothing managed to capture his attention.

(When Uchiha Sasuke commenced his brooding… He did not stop.)

That is, until…

"Sa-su-ke-cha-n~!"

Brought out of his internal strife, Sasuke glanced at his door.

The infernal knocking had ceased. With the sudden quiet, he heard his name called ever-so sweetly again.

"Sa-su-ke-cha-n!"

Brow quirking at the offensively sugary tone of voice, Sasuke stood from his couch. Who the hell was bothering him again?

Walking the few steps to reach his front door, Sasuke grasped the handle. Before he turned the knob, he unlocked his industrialized bolt - the best prevention of an unexpected raid from a certain blonde - and cracked the door to peek through. Sadly, he did not have a peephole installed.

He was definitely reconsidering that, though.

A genuinely cheery face belonging to a blonde, and a deceptively beaming countenance (that, at times, nearly resembled a fox with its sly nature), could be seen through the slim opening. Bitingly, since he was not in the mood to entertain, Sasuke grumbled, "What the hell do you two want?"

The blonde's grin was wiped clean off his face. Insulted at his would-be host's comment, Naruto whiningly huffed, "Ne, Sasuke-teme, we've had this planned all week! Let us in!"

To his side, Sai stood with the pleasant expression on his face, unfazed and waiting.

"Tch. Whatever." Reaffirming his grip on the metal entry, Sasuke began to ease it closed. All he wanted was to be left alone.

Before he could manage to shut the door in his friends' faces, it was forced from his grip. As the space provided by the entryway widened, an irritating chatterbox attacked him with such an opportunity at hand.

Falling onto his back, Sasuke grunted.

Attached around his middle, Naruto began his ranting again; Sai, having stood by patiently let himself inside after shutting the door.

Yep, he would need to get a peephole installed. Definitely.

Then again, if he hadn't been so absentminded, he would have been fully aware of who was on the other side of his apartment's point of entry. Or, better yet, he would have remembered.

(Besides, worrying was uncharacteristic of an Uchiha.)

Glancing down at his irksome best friend, who was still clinging to him, Sasuke pushed at the blonde's face.

"Dobe. Release me. Now."

Taking in a breath as if offended, Naruto let go of his friend with a wide grin. "Ne, Teme, what took you so long to answer the door?" Swiping a hand along the back of his neck, he continued. "We were waiting for a good fifteen minutes." His grin shifting into something akin to a perverted one, Naruto's eyes narrowed to teasing slits. "Maybe we were interrupting something?"

Scoffing at such a suggestion, Sasuke headed back towards his welcoming couch. (It was the only thing within his apartment, currently, that understood his pain.)

Ignoring the idiot's remarks was usually the best plan of action.

Uninhibited, the blonde's mouth didn't stop. "Besides, I was knocking really loud so you could hear me!"

Pinning the blonde with a slight glare, Sasuke merely stared at him.

Sai, deciding to cut into the one-sided conversation, managed to say exactly what Sasuke would have. "Naruto, I'm sure the entire floor could hear you knocking and pleading Sasuke to let you inside." His smile still in place, he carried on (unfortunately, this time, not saying what Sasuke would have). "Are you sure you have a penis, Naruto? It seems that every time we come over to Sasuke's, you always have to beg to get inside. I wonder if it's because you want his, since you seem to not have your own."

Sai, still tactless as ever.

Sputtering at the indecency of their friend, Naruto's face colored a deep crimson as he placed a palm against his cheek - the other pointing at the thoughtless artist. One could only wonder if Naruto's change in hue was due to embarrassment or anger.

Deciding to continue ignoring his companions, Sasuke focused on the blank television screen.

Naruto, sapphire irises gleaming with passing anger, averted his gaze towards Sasuke. Noting that the Uchiha was sulking more than usual, he cocked his head to the left in curiosity. What could be bothering Sasuke, of all people? Whatever the issue was, Naruto could tell it was immensely unnerving his best friend. After all, he usually had a comeback or insult at the ready for either him or Sai; tonight, though, he seemed to be lacking.

Too caught up in his own thoughts, Sasuke nearly dropped the controller that was placed precariously (and unexpectedly) in his hands. Grasping firmly at the controller, the dark-haired man glanced at the male sitting to his right. His brow poised in a silent question, Sasuke simply stared; he knew Naruto would answer him.

Slapping a hand to his back, Naruto grinned. "Teme, you're going down." The blonde knew that a competition - of any sorts - between the two would garner the Uchiha's attention. As the game system's light flickered to life and recognized the wireless controllers, the blonde leaned back against the couch.

Eyeing his friend with a grin, Naruto loosened his tense sitting position. As the man to his left focused his darkened stare to the television before the pair, the blonde knew he was successful in his deduction. Competition between the two of them was never-ending; this was the ideal way of relaxing Sasuke, and then getting him to speak up about his troubles would be a cinch. So, for now, he would focus on beating Sasuke at their game; later, though, he would definitely wring out what was bothering him so much.

The game's opening sequence played out on the screen, while the two rivals (and best friends) watched, their third companion was off poking about the Uchiha's apartment. With their distraction, the crass male would locate a phone and call the number he had found on the floor outside of the apartment.

Usual serene facial features were taut with a furious twist: narrowed slits for eyes, full lips thinned, and a furrowed brow. The torturous minutes on the clock behind her ticked away slowly, much too slowly. Every time she swiveled in her chair to chance a peek at the time, all she saw was a slight change of the clock's hands.

Vehement, emerald eyes glared at the bane of her existence.

For the past forty minutes, Sakura was forced to endure conversation with the bug-loving freak. Thankfully, his excessive descriptions left little room for her to comment. Then again, Sakura was unsure if she would want to even get a word in; his obsession with insects was highly disconcerting. He especially liked prattling on about how his bugs would crawl on her, and where.

The amount of detail this man managed to produce was surprising, especially when he would describe how he would utilize them on her person.

Still, it was disgusting, to say the least. With each addition to his fantasy, her ire escalated; the pinkette was unsure of how much more she could take.

"One is scuttling along your waist… Why? Because it wants to crawl to your breast. I want it to tickle you there. You would like that, yes?"

With the next intake of air, Sakura choked. A bug creeping along her boob?

Apparently, her momentary asphyxiation of breath was misinterpreted. As she fought to right her breathing, that insipidly even, resonant voice spoke into her ear, causing a shudder to trek along the curve of her spine.

"Oh, another is near your hip. It's feelers are grazing against the skin of your lower stomach, searching for-"

Squealing from the nauseating description, Sakura placed a hand against her mouth for fear she would let loose a string of curses. Out of sudden modesty (and trepidation), the pinkette kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, continuously.

That was the final straw. He wanted a bug to prowl across her abdomen? To use its antenna to inspect the area, in hopes of finding an entrance (that was the most likely thing he was going to say, she had to guess)? A certain entrance her legs were currently guarding out of sheer horror.

In response to her shriek, the bastard had the gall to speak up again. "I like that sound. Why? Because it's appealing."

Did he actually think she liked this bug-infested delusion of his? Her cheeks flushed an angry scarlet as she bit down on her lower lip, refusing the urge to yell at him that, in fact, she couldn't stand listening to him any longer. Sakura knew that if she didn't correct him in his twisted misconstrued belief, she would regurgitate her coffee from earlier.

However, he beat her to the punch. She swore she could hear the smile in his voice, too. "You like the bugs, yes? I knew you would."

All color drained from her face as Sakura blanched. The previous red that tinted her cheeks was cleared away at his innocent accusation. Moving her hand from her mouth, she swept it across her face.

Again, she wondered why she had bothered listening to Ino. Again, she wondered why she worked here. Again, she wondered why she had such rotten luck and how she managed to get the men on the lower rung of society to call her.

Most importantly, she wondered: Why her?

Pained yells and the recurrent whizzing of bullets flying overhead filled the aural senses of the two boys sitting on the couch. They were completely enraptured with their game. Mindlessly, with mouths slightly ajar - save for Sasuke, he was too refined for such a look (albeit his mouth was open partially, just not nearly as much as Naruto's) - their fingers worked against the handheld controllers with deft precision.

Sasuke maneuvered around the blockade to prevent any more stray shots from hitting him. As he lowered to a kneel, the Uchiha held his breath as he panned his camera from left to right. Keeping an eye on the mini-map in the lower-right corner, he noted that no enemies were nearby.

Peering over the barrier that shielded him, his signature smirk lifted a corner of his lips. Adjusting his gun, he aimed in the general direction of his target. Magnifying his view through the sniper's scope, he readied himself for the shot he was about to make.

Prey in sight, he aligned the crosshair with his target's head; after all, what better way to win a match than with a headshot?

His finger eased onto the trigger of his controller.

Inhaling deeply, the Uchiha applied the necessary pressure. However, just as he blinked to glimpse his victory, his screen flashed red.

He'd been killed.

He'd lost the fight.

Averting his darkened gaze to the male at his right, his onyx eyes narrowed as he beheld his friend, all the while a menacing glower contorted his handsome features as the blonde cheekily grinned.

In a rather tense, tight voice, he muttered his displeasure. "Dobe. Why'd you kill me?"

"Eh? To win, duh, Teme."

Dubious as ever, Sasuke refrained from hanging his head at his friend's stupidity.

"You did realize, we were on the same team, right?"

An embarrassed flush pinkened Naruto's tan cheeks; his smile from before, forgotten.

Sighing at his loss (and for Naruto's lack of intelligence), the Uchiha shifted his glare towards his television. "We were playing another team online, idiot. We were given the option to fight each other while playing online, but you said 'no.'"

Sheepish (in reaction to his screw up), Naruto skimmed his fingers along the nape of his neck awkwardly while glancing upwards, at the ceiling. "Ah, sorry… Sasuke…" Sapphire hues switched direction, to the left. "How about another match? I'll remember this time…

"Besides, this new CoD is confusing…"

"… It's not very different than the ones preceding it."

"Well… I don't really like CoD. I prefer Mortal Kombat or Street Fighter; kicking somebody's ass beats shooting them in the face!"

"Hn."

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke silently accepted. Fingering the correct buttons, the Uchiha set up their next game, hoping that his moronic friend would remember they were teammates this time around.

Traipsing about the Uchiha's apartment, Sai found himself admiring the few pieces of artwork his friend had scattered about. A painting here, a sketch there. Though each had a particular difference with the rest, the artist found himself liking his friend's taste in subtly.

However, his main reason for not joining the howling idiot and the antisocial prick in the living room was the slip of paper wrapped around his left pointer finger. A curious little thing, it was. The scrap contained a set of numbers written in an elegant script - feminine, if anything. (After all, his dickless moron of a friend couldn't write so neatly; least of all with such a girlish flair.)

He had his speculations as to who the series of digits, if dialed, would connect him to.

Stretching the slip between two fingers to inspect the telephone number for the nth time, Sai eased his way into the Uchiha's study. The door was already slightly ajar; this made infiltration effortless.

Eyeing the leather chair with wheels, he crossed the room and situated himself behind the desk and into the awaiting seat. The gradual beginnings of a sly grin upturned the corners of his lips. Reaching forward to grasp the cordless phone, the artist's rare display of emotion would have triggered quite a scene if he was discovered. Cradling the phone in his nimble fingers, Sai glanced at the scrap again, and with a flurry of button-pressing he heard the desired ringing.

Enough was enough.

Having endured a phone call with that degenerate for the past hour - no, wait, two hours (nearly, at least) - or so, listening to him babble on about his adoration of bugs, her pleasurable squeals, and how he just knew she'd enjoy the fantasy. Fed up with the entire matter, Sakura had merely hung up after forcing a feigned moan of ecstasy.

Puffing her cheeks, the pinkette, livid as she was, tugged at her headset. Sakura really needed a break. However, her angry, unthoughtful pull caused the microphone and earpiece to tangle within her short strands.

Fighting to free her sensitive scalp from the torturously haphazard situation, she managed to release herself from her own mishap. A gentle flick of the wrist and a tearjerking yank, and she was liberated.

Just about to lift the troublesome communication device from her abused scalp, that niggling, chiming alert reverberated into her ears.

Somebody was calling her.

Perhaps she should just ignore it? She could really use that break right about now…

Nevertheless, toughening up, Sakura inhaled deeply and swiftly relinquished the breath. The more calls she had, the more she was paid. If she was lucky, tonight would be her last night.

Hitting the answer key, the pinkette obliged the mysterious caller with an obviously faked tone of exaggerated sexiness. "Hey there..."

"Sakura?"

Her internal rage settled - momentarily - as the pinkette withheld her breath. Why did this person know her name? More importantly, who was it?

a/n: I hope you guys liked it. x: I'm hoping to get the next chapter out soon (if my professors' are willing)! Please review with feedback, adoration, etc~! :D