(no subject)
Title: Remnants
Character: Sasuke
Word Count: 711
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers up to chapter 346 of the manga, heavily implied sex.
Author's Note: Written due to a combination of my irritation at Chapter 346, rayemars’ urging (sort of; it took her like four words to push me over the edge), and a drabble by metamorphe from which I heavily drew influence. Dealing with the possibility that Sasuke did not override his old teacher’s consciousness quite as thoroughly as he believed at the time.
The dreams had started only a few days after the death of Itachi. Hands running over his skin, a low voice murmuring in his ear. The same dreams he had been having for almost three years, but not really the same dreams at all. The hands were too rough or too smooth, the voice the wrong timbre, roughened or slick like oil, and even in the poor lighting Sasuke could tell the hair was several shades paler than it should have been. Sometimes the moon glinted off the face, sometimes there were two faces, sometimes he actually raised his eyes above the curve of shoulders and saw nothing at all. But Sasuke learned to accept this. He had finally avenged his clan, achieved his ultimate objective. He was not a child anymore, with a child's fantasies of the impossible. Better to dream of the abstract. Better for his subconscious to have finally accepted what a whirl of chakra had long ago etched into his mind.
Sakura and Naruto had few questions for him after he sought them out while they were on a mission and told them he wanted to come back. He told them of the snake sannin's end, of Itachi's, and their curiosity was drowned in the face of their relief. They did not delve further into the strangeness of the former after hearing of the crushing violence of the latter. No one took note that his eyes remained cold no matter how his face contorted at the interrogations the Godaime forced him to undergo. They think they can control me.
Naruto laughed as Sasuke walked out of Tsunade's office, a free man at last. Sakura smiled, her eyes glistening even as she turned away and tried to wipe them dry. Sasuke told himself that the flash of disgust was only to be expected, after becoming accustomed to the mien of the self-contained.
He and Naruto had their first argument within the week. Naruto growled and snarled and balled his hands into fists, and the first word that crossed Sasuke's mind was less fool and more beast. He snarled back, of course. It was only to be expected. They couldn't suspect-
The yelling match continued for nearly an hour, and though the air of righteous anger surrounding Naruto as he stomped away in a huff was nearly palpable, it was a poor mask.
The disgust was stronger this time, and lasted longer. What am I doing here?
Sakura started courting him after a month. She thought she was being subtle, he could tell. She wasn't, and that irritated him, but he couldn't help but latch on to the normality of it, the sheer expected-ness of her actions. He didn't encourage her, but neither did he brush her off as he once might have. Her desires might have not changed, but he had. He was not a child anymore, and still had one more goal to achieve. Such emotion is so easy to manipulate.
Naruto grumbled for a few days, yelled something about treating Sakura properly, took Sasuke aside and threatened to punch him or something equally juvenile. Sasuke stared at Naruto down the length of his nose, sneered, and resisted the urge to run his tongue along the back of Naruto's neck to see if the sweat Naruto had generated in his impotent fury tasted as sweet as Sasuke had always imagined.
He kissed Sakura at the end of their third date after walking her home. Sooner would have been improper. He fucked Naruto the same night, at Naruto's apartment, licking at Naruto's nape over and over and yes, it tasted just the slightest bit like sugar, mixed in with salt. The taste was familiar. Though not as bitter. It's not quite as I remember. Not quite-
Afterwards, Naruto had turned over, his muscles loose but his eyes sharp, pleading, "Don't hurt Sakura-chan."
"I won't," Sasuke promised.
"We can't do this again."
"Of course not," Sasuke agreed, ignoring the way the words, like everything he had said since he had returned--they held me back, kept me from--burned like venom in his mouth.
Who are you, to dictate to me what I can and cannot do?
It was not a question Sasuke was sure he could answer anymore.
END
Character: Sasuke
Word Count: 711
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers up to chapter 346 of the manga, heavily implied sex.
Author's Note: Written due to a combination of my irritation at Chapter 346, rayemars’ urging (sort of; it took her like four words to push me over the edge), and a drabble by metamorphe from which I heavily drew influence. Dealing with the possibility that Sasuke did not override his old teacher’s consciousness quite as thoroughly as he believed at the time.
The dreams had started only a few days after the death of Itachi. Hands running over his skin, a low voice murmuring in his ear. The same dreams he had been having for almost three years, but not really the same dreams at all. The hands were too rough or too smooth, the voice the wrong timbre, roughened or slick like oil, and even in the poor lighting Sasuke could tell the hair was several shades paler than it should have been. Sometimes the moon glinted off the face, sometimes there were two faces, sometimes he actually raised his eyes above the curve of shoulders and saw nothing at all. But Sasuke learned to accept this. He had finally avenged his clan, achieved his ultimate objective. He was not a child anymore, with a child's fantasies of the impossible. Better to dream of the abstract. Better for his subconscious to have finally accepted what a whirl of chakra had long ago etched into his mind.
Sakura and Naruto had few questions for him after he sought them out while they were on a mission and told them he wanted to come back. He told them of the snake sannin's end, of Itachi's, and their curiosity was drowned in the face of their relief. They did not delve further into the strangeness of the former after hearing of the crushing violence of the latter. No one took note that his eyes remained cold no matter how his face contorted at the interrogations the Godaime forced him to undergo. They think they can control me.
Naruto laughed as Sasuke walked out of Tsunade's office, a free man at last. Sakura smiled, her eyes glistening even as she turned away and tried to wipe them dry. Sasuke told himself that the flash of disgust was only to be expected, after becoming accustomed to the mien of the self-contained.
He and Naruto had their first argument within the week. Naruto growled and snarled and balled his hands into fists, and the first word that crossed Sasuke's mind was less fool and more beast. He snarled back, of course. It was only to be expected. They couldn't suspect-
The yelling match continued for nearly an hour, and though the air of righteous anger surrounding Naruto as he stomped away in a huff was nearly palpable, it was a poor mask.
The disgust was stronger this time, and lasted longer. What am I doing here?
Sakura started courting him after a month. She thought she was being subtle, he could tell. She wasn't, and that irritated him, but he couldn't help but latch on to the normality of it, the sheer expected-ness of her actions. He didn't encourage her, but neither did he brush her off as he once might have. Her desires might have not changed, but he had. He was not a child anymore, and still had one more goal to achieve. Such emotion is so easy to manipulate.
Naruto grumbled for a few days, yelled something about treating Sakura properly, took Sasuke aside and threatened to punch him or something equally juvenile. Sasuke stared at Naruto down the length of his nose, sneered, and resisted the urge to run his tongue along the back of Naruto's neck to see if the sweat Naruto had generated in his impotent fury tasted as sweet as Sasuke had always imagined.
He kissed Sakura at the end of their third date after walking her home. Sooner would have been improper. He fucked Naruto the same night, at Naruto's apartment, licking at Naruto's nape over and over and yes, it tasted just the slightest bit like sugar, mixed in with salt. The taste was familiar. Though not as bitter. It's not quite as I remember. Not quite-
Afterwards, Naruto had turned over, his muscles loose but his eyes sharp, pleading, "Don't hurt Sakura-chan."
"I won't," Sasuke promised.
"We can't do this again."
"Of course not," Sasuke agreed, ignoring the way the words, like everything he had said since he had returned--they held me back, kept me from--burned like venom in his mouth.
Who are you, to dictate to me what I can and cannot do?
It was not a question Sasuke was sure he could answer anymore.
END