A/N: Just a cute little Naruto/Sasuke drabble. Features eskimo-kisses! c:

-:-

One Friday afternoon, Uzumaki Naruto discovers that he might be in love.

It happens like this: January wind rushing at his ears as the heat of his racing muscles escalates to temper it, last night's snow crunching under his shoes as he cuts across the schoolyard, and a dark speck at the end of the field slowly taking shape, all dark eyes, dark hair, and familiar, dark scowl.

At seven minutes past four outside the empty school halls, this really isn't the most unexpected of settings, and the thoughts that have been running through Naruto's head haven't travelled outside the expected either, yet.

Is this okay? – he doesn't think, as his heart thuds just a little harder than it should from the exertion. Was feeling this way… right? – he doesn't wonder, spirits soaring at the sight of his best friend as he looms nearer with every step.

Sasuke's hands are buried deep in his pockets, eyes fixed on a naked cherry tree branch over his head, and he doesn't look around when Naruto hurtles to a stop. But Naruto doesn't mind, because once again it's been more than an hour since stupid Iruka-sensei holed him up in detention, and Sasuke's still here.

(Is it all right for that to make him so gloriously happy every time? – he doesn't ask himself.)

Sasuke tilts his head in his general direction – probably working on some elaborate new way to insult him, Naruto deduces. He tightens the straps of his bag over his shoulders and readies a counter.

He has it at the tip of his tongue when he notices something: Sasuke hasn't made any move to speak, busy with something on his face instead. His nose, to be precise. He rubs the heel of his palm against it, and pinches it once.

Cocking his head to the side, Naruto asks, "What's up with you? Did you catch a cold or something? Waiting out here for me and all..."

For me, the words echo in his head a few times. They sound nice.

"Of course not," Sasuke answers sharply at once, tearing his hand away and clenching it at his side. "It's not – " He pauses here, because his eyes meet Naruto's –

– and Naruto only stares at him, because he's just made two rather interesting discoveries.

First, that Sasuke's nose happens to have turned a little pink from the cold. Just a little.

And second, Sasuke's nose when it turns a little pink makes his heart skip and warmth shoot down him, to his very toes.

He decides all of a sudden that he needs to touch Sasuke. He doesn't know which little trooper up in his head made that decision for him, but it's done, and he doesn't think any further than: I just really need to be close to him right now.

Lifting his hands to his own nose, he presses his palms against it and warms up his skin. Then he leans forward and touches his nose to Sasuke's.

It's icy cold, he can tell as soon their skins touch, but it only makes him feel warmer somehow. It's only fair that he shares it with Sasuke, who is still so cold, so he rubs their noses together experimentally and decides he likes how that feels.

Sasuke's body feels warmer than anything he's every felt as he presses closer, but then their hands brush, and Sasuke's fingertips are cold. So Naruto does what comes naturally just then: he takes his hands and links their fingers together.

They are boy-hands, rough and bony and nothing like Sakura-chan's smooth, tiny one. They are Sasuke's hands, and they feel right, and Naruto doesn't want to let go.

He thinks he hears a soft gasp, and realises dimly that this should feel intensely, unbearably awkward. Except it doesn't, and none of that penetrates the strange and inexplicable niceness of this, just standing in the empty schoolyard on this wintry afternoon with Sasuke, nose to nose and fingers connected.

What does penetrate it, though, is the blow Sasuke delivers to his chest five seconds later, making him fly at least five feet through the air before crashing to the ground.

Rubbing his behind, he squints at the pale sun in his eyes. He's decided to inform Sasuke what an ungrateful prick he is, when his vision adjusts and the first thing he sees is Sasuke's face.

And it's flaming red, redder than the tomatoes he brings for lunch every day, and it might be the most fascinating, delightful thing Naruto has ever seen.

Could this be love? he wonders all of a sudden; then probably, and shouldn't I be feeling more like my entire world just shifted in a moment?

Sasuke has his arms folded and he's saying something, but Naruto is a little distracted by his lips that look dry and chapped as they move. How would they feel if he pressed his mouth to them?

He'd be only helping, after all.

Pure killer intent is still radiating from Sasuke's every pore, though, and Naruto imagines he can feel it intensify even as he thinks about it.

So he gets to his feet and loops an arm around Sasuke's squirming shoulders instead. "Maa, maa, Sasuke," he laughs, "Don't tell me I had you all worked up by that?"

Maybe he can try another time, when he can catch Sasuke unawares. He'd probably end up dying a violent death anyway, but at least that wouldn't happen until he'd managed to see at least a few of the other shades of red he could turn him.

That would be a shame indeed.

- owari -

Reviews are love :)