Body Heat

1 | solar flare and stardust

{sasuke}

A roar of laughter drifted up from downstairs and the paragraph Sasuke had been concentrating on for the better part of an hour developed a rip in his hands. He got up, threw the shief of papers and his purple highlighter down, and huffed. Running a hand through his hair, he decided a break was long overdue.

Trailing an aura of dreary fatigue, Sasuke exited the study, barely able to force one foot in front of the other. Sitting for so long had put them to sleep. He walked down the corridor stiffly, his mind was a tumble of exhaustion and his head was starting to throb. He couldn't remember the last nap he took or the last meal he ate.

A mixer had started downstairs roughly an hour ago but Sasuke had been too busy with papers – oh so many papers – with prints so small his eyes burned with the effort he had put in. He couldn't remember much beyond the papers he'd been drowning in all day. The only reason he knew the fête had started was because of the unbearable noise thumping up from downstairs.

He slunk up to the little cornerbar. It sat in the lounge, on the landing just upstairs from the revelry, yet out of sight. A private parlour his dad liked to smoke in.

Quiet as a soft-pawed cat, he slid out a glass from the cabinet and poured himself a strong drink, on the sly. Keeping all sounds to a minimum.

What Itachi doesn't know, won't hurt him.

Sasuke took a seat on the couch set closest to the railing as he took a couple quick swallows, eyeing the cast and crew gathered in the living room below. The mansion was a big one and Sasuke had spent many celebrations in exactly the same spot, perfectly hidden away.

With his vantage point, he could view everything through the balustrade but would not be forced to mingle. Sasuke was simply perusing the crowd aimlessly, making a half-hearted sport of trying to recall everyone's names in his head when his eyes stopped on a head of golden hair that looked like live wires.

The man was not too tall, his grin exactly what would be expected of an imp. He could easily be the youngest in the room and the expressions on his face added to that concept. Every move of his was wild, almost exaggerated, barely controlled.

Itachi was talking to him, probably going over what was to be expected of him in the coming weeks of filming the pilot episode. The blond had his hair tied back in a tiny pony, leaving just a few wayward strands around his hairline to flutter as he nodded frenetically. The way his eyes scanned the script was carefully focused despite his casual posture. His gaze lingering on the places Itachi was pointing out. Drinking in details with a lively sharpness.

Sasuke noted the way the attractive, young actor got up along with Itachi and started moving about, taking small, moseying steps. Unable to stay in one place for too long due to his excitement. Itachi, who wasn't much of a pacer was following him, falling into his relaxed pace with every turn in front of the empty fireplace. His stiff shoulders, geared up for a work event were slowly loosening, even his perpetual composed expression and tone slowly turned to one more... excited.

Sasuke couldn't remember the last time Itachi had been excited. And if Itachi qualified as excited, then, in comparison, the blond man was deliriously eager.

Who is that blond man? All in his vicinity seemed to gravitate to him - eyes seemed to be drawn to him wherever he went. Sasuke felt his eye twitch; even he felt a gravitational pull to the young heartthrob, even all the way upstairs. How annoying.

The lush blond hair moved and glowed in the soft lighting, as he walked, like it was a live creature. The infectious personality had people in closest proximity drop what they were doing and stare at hypnotising blues eyes.