Silver Bells
Pairing: SasuSaku
Rating: T
Genre: Romance
Warning: Written within two hours. Unedited. Expect kisses. And shameless cliches. Can also be interpreted as Team Seven fluff (they do share an apartment here, after all). Hints of a possible!future!threesome because I'm just perverted like that.
A more serious warning: Sasuke... reading romance novels. Lothario!Sasuke. Awkward!teenage!Sasuke. Fairytale-ish metaphors. Naruto where you least expect him. And irredeemable fluff. (It's Christmas, what did you expect?)
Summary: Sasuke tries - and sort of fails - to be a Casanova. Sakura just wants to get some ramen. And Naruto? Well...
AN: Let's just pretend that Sasuke came back after killing Itachi and Team Seven lived happily ever after, okay? *rueful sigh* This was the result of a fever-induced delusion. I think you'll know that right away after reading the first paragraph - seriously, fevers tend to make me nostalgic.
The view outside the stained window of the shop was marvelous, as if everything, from the snowflakes that gracefully continued on their descent, to the angel-topped oak trees, was flecked with the touch of a magic paintbrush. The brick red duplex houses that lined the street were like something out of a fairytale. They huddled together, like cute, rotund penguins, seeking neighbourly warmth from each other. The soft, dimly flickering tangerine lights of the lampposts pervaded the atmosphere; and the sheets of snow that capped the roofs of the fairytale houses were like thick icings on top of plump strawberry shortcakes. The cheerful chimneys spouted rings of smoke, like the train to Hogwarts. The yellow lights that filtered through the shuttered, box-shaped windows twinkled like the stars in the Arabian Nights. They spilled over onto the trimmed, well-maintained shrubbery that enclosed the strawberry-shortcake houses like an army of mischievous gnomes. The green, frost-capped gnomes proudly displayed the Christmas decorations they were embellished with as if they were badges, bestowed by the White Queen; badges that consisted of red-and-white striped candy canes, and a multitude of silver bells that jingled merry Christmas tunes with alacrity, whenever a cold wind nudged them.
And it was a merry tune to Sakura's ears indeed. It reminded her of a cool, enigmatic Kakashi - cheerful one moment, and then downright scary the next, as black clouds loomed ominously in the distance. Naruto's face came to mind as well - tied-up to a log, kicking and screaming, and then instantly hopeful as soon as she volunteered to feed him. But the memory that she was most fond of, surprisingly, wasn't Sasuke's grudging demeanor as he conceded to the idea of feeding the other boy, or the disdainful expression on his face the first time he'd called her annoying. It was Sasuke's head, poking out of the ground like a garden gnome's, and the completely bored, if slightly disgruntled, expression on his face.
The memory made her giggle - and perhaps, even a bit smug when it occurred to her that she could probably do that to Sasuke the next time he tried to immobilize her with his stupid snakes during training. Ah, she'd enjoy throwing that memory in his face. She turned her attention from the large glass window, to the rack of items that was situated right beside it. The satisfied, if slightly feral, grin never left her face. Oh, Sakura thought gleefully as she tried (in vain) to reach the canned miso ramen on the top counter, what she would give to see Sasuke's expression...
"What's so funny?" Sakura yelped and turned around instinctively, only to bump her nose into Sasuke's chest with a rather startled 'oomph!'
She drew back, hands cupping her nose, and blinked up at a rather amused looking Sasuke. How he managed to look so cool and unaffected, with a bundle of tomatoes dangling from his left hand, was beyond her.
"Sasuke!" she exclaimed, her hands muffling the sound. Sasuke merely raised an elegant eyebrow at her, and Sakura realized she was supposed to answer his initial inquiry. Just the mere thought of the subject made her giggle. She tried to smother them, if only to spare Sasuke the embarrassment of that memory. She really did.
"It's nothing, really!" Sakura said between bouts of repressed mirth - Sasuke did not look convinced.
Sakura sighed. "Ok, fine. I was just thinking about our Genin days. Memories and stuff." she confessed, scratching the bridge of her nose rather sheepishly. She looked rather... cute like that, Sasuke thought, discomfited. And then he cleared his throat in an attempt to abandon that rather disconcerting train of thought.
"Really? Which one?" he pulled off the smirk well enough, he thought, feeling rather triumphant. And then he felt incredibly childish about feeling triumphant. At least he didn't smile back - the tendency to do so was so overwhelming sometimes, when he was near Sakura or Naruto for extended periods of time. Happiness, it seemed, was rather contagious.
His mind abandoned the rather problematic matter of smiling, in favour of Sakura's voice. "...ou know, the oh-so-romantic kiss you shared with Naruto back at the Academy." Sakura was saying.
Sasuke blinked. And then turned a wonderful shade of red. "I--that was!- Hn!" he stated, rather eloquently. The cold, he told himself as he ignored the blush on his cheeks. It was just the cold.
The laughter that bubbled out of Sakura's throat dissolved any lingering embarrassment, however, and suddenly, the pink abated from his slightly chilled cheeks. He found himself staring, transfixed, as Sakura continued to laugh. Her nose scrunched up a little, in that adorable, cat-like way; her eyes lit up too. The sound of her laughter wasn't melodious, unlike the wind chimes (and the strategically placed mistletoes) dangling from the ceiling of the shop. Her laughter was soft, saturated with the husky, almost seductive, quality of her voice; but it wasn't feminine. It was slightly boyish - throaty. And so, so carefree.
Her cheeks were turning a pale pink too and then her laughter came to an abrupt end. Sasuke realized he was staring. He could tell, from the blood rushing to her cheeks and the way she kept fidgeting under his gaze, that Sakura was embarrassed. Her embarrassment embarrassed him.
They stared at each other, surrounded by a lukewarm silence. Sakura was outright blushing now - Sasuke was very much certain his pale complexion had turned a rosier shade as well. The ramen aisle they were in was isolated from the rest of the shop. The shelves on either sides, embellished with various assortment of ramen, created a narrow, tiled pathway. They stood, quite alone, and stared. And stared.
Sandwiched between a shelf of cold canned steel, and a warm chest, her nerves were frayed with anticipation. And then suddenly, the embarrassed silence shifted into an expectant one.
Outside, a vicious wind blew, picking up powdery flakes of snow...
She leaned up. He leaned down...
And the shrill resonance of silver bells bounced off the walls of the shop like a stray ping pong ball, effectively ruining the moment.
Sakura jumped, startled. And then, flustered, she coughed into her gloved fist, before turning her attention back to the shelf of ramen. Ignoring the source of warmth on her back was proving to be as fruitful an effort a trying to reach that canned chicken flavoured ramen that mocked her from its perch.
She chanced a peek at him over her shoulder, and was surprised to see him looking at her still, with that unreadable expression, and as if-- as if... Sakura hastily turned back to the lacquered, whitewashed shelf. "Don't do that." she found herself muttering, as she tried to reach the chicken-flavoured ramen on the top shelf. Her fingers just brushed the surface of the can, when...
"Do what?" Sakura froze. The smooth, baritone voice had just been next to her ear. His steady, if just minutely cool, breath was a warm ghost against her cheek. It chilled her. Apparently, Sasuke knew how to articulate his words so they traipsed over each other and spilled out of his mouth like invisible, transient caresses.
Sakura gulped, discreetly, in order to wet her suddenly parched throat. She wasn't sure if it was possible to feel someone smirk.
"Don't-- don't look at me like that."
"Like... what?" Sasuke asked, voice slightly muffled by a sheet of pink hair. He almost sounded... playful. His hand trailed up her arm, which was still outstretched towards the canned ramen, and settled over hers. It began tracing a gloved finger.
Sakura's eyes widened. Oh god, was Sasuke actually flirting with her?
"Like-- like!" She stammered incoherently, when he pressed his chest to her back.
"Hm?" He was flirting with her! The thought sounded ludicrous, even in her head, but there was no mistaking that amused, if slightly teasing, tone of his voice.
His body pressed even closer to hers, until his spiky hair nuzzled her neck and his eyelashes brushed against her cheek. His warn, foggy breath fluttered against her cold cheek, and in a trance, Sakura started turning her face towards him, just a little. And suddenly, the warmth that had engulfed her was gone. Her lips met thin air.
She opened her eyes - she didn't remember closing them - and saw a decidedly smug looking Sasuke holding out that ramen can towards her. He was smirking. It took a moment for Sakura to realize what had just happened. Had he just...?
Colour rose spontaneously to her cheeks. She couldn't decide whether she should gape, or be angry. She settled for the latter. How dare he?!
"Why you-" Sakura was ready to fly into an apoplectic rage. She didn't know exactly what she was angry at him for, but that self-satisfied smirk was more than enough to infuriate her. "You-you! You!"
"Me."
That was the last straw! With a violent swipe of her hand - Sasuke was sure she meant to leave a scratch mark - she snatched the ramen can from his hand, growled like an angry feline, and stomped towards the counter. Sasuke smirked after her - Naruto was right: she always did look very beautiful when she was furious.
Sasuke wasn't smug for long. Sakura was ignoring him. He just knew she was. It wasn't unusual for Sakura to be silent around him - their relationship had progressed to the stage where they appreciated each other's quiet companionship - a stage where Sakura didn't always have to wonder what Sasuke was thinking, and Sasuke didn't have to wonder when she had changed so much.
But now Sakura was being purposefully silent. It wasn't their normal, comfortable silence though. It was the 'I'm-ignoring-you-and-I-want-you-to-know-it' silence, and it radiated in intense waves from her and choked him with guilt. Was she still mad at him about that incident half an hour ago? He only did that to see her reaction! He hadn't meant to infuriate her enough to make her ignore him! Enduring a cold shoulder from her was worse than enduring one of her rants, coupled with a fist to the face because when she put her mind to it, Sakura could ignore someone to the point that the victim of her silent fury felt like the lowest scumbag in existence. (He seemed to recall Shikamaru once griping about Ino's ability to do that as well).
Che, stupid woman sure could hold a grudge. And make him feel like a complete bastard.
When he had nonchalantly asked her if she needed any help with her shopping baskets, Sakura had looked up from the apples she was surveying to spare him a glance. And then, her face completely devoid of expression, voice vapid, she had said, "No, but..." here, she had stopped for a dramatic pause, "Thank you, Sasuke."
And then she had prettily sashayed up to the sweetmeat aisle, leaving him feeling like a completely cold, undeserving bastard.
By the time they were done shopping and had cleared up the bill (god knows how much ramen they had bought for Naruto), Sasuke felt - and he would never admit it - irrevocably guilty. And regretted his earlier impulsive actions. Even though, technically, he had done nothing wrong. Except maybe, flirt with her. And there was technically nothing wrong with that either, Sasuke thought stubbornly. But why he felt the need to apologize - and for what exactly - he didn't know. Maybe it was because Sakura had made it pretty clear that she wouldn't talk to him until he offered up an apology. Shikamaru was right - women were troublesome.
The shopkeeper offered them a pleasant smile - which Sakura returned - bidding them a safe journey through the snow, and a Merry Christmas.
It was just as Sakura turned the knob of the exit that Sasuke sighed, in blatant exasperation, and plucking up his resolve, said, "Sakura."
Sakura stilled, her firm grip on the doorknob tightening just a fraction, and then, with startling composure, she inclined her head over her shoulder to look at Sasuke, nothing but cool disinterest in her gaze. "Yes?"
At the sight of her nonchalant demeanor, the apology he had meant to mutter decided to remain lodged in his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it, and a voice inside his head, which sounded suspiciously like Naruto, urgently told him to say something, bastard!
Sakura's expectant look began to wane, and when she finally seemed to have had enough of his inability to articulate two small words, she turned her back to him with a huff and resumed winding the doorknob.
"Do you need help carrying those?" He blurted out lamely - she had already told him - and quite clearly too - that she didn't. And if the way Sakura's eyes narrowed were any indication, she probably thought he was a male chauvinist pig for assuming she needed help, when she had clearly stated that she didn't. Damn, stupid mouth! He hadn't meant it like that! If there was anything Sakura hated more than a dying patient, it was being called weak, in any sense of the word, whether implied or direct.
His suspicions were only confirmed when Sakura's eyes flashed dangerously, and she tersely bit out, "No. Superhuman strength does have its advantages, Sasuke."
And as if to demonstrate her point, she stepped outside - something that was suspiciously close to panic rose in Sasuke's chest at the sight of her walking away - and slammed the door of the shop shut... or tried to anyway. It was only Sasuke's swift reflexes that spared the shop owner the expense of replacing a lacquered, mahogany door. He caught the doorknob before it could slam shut, and stepped outside quickly to see Sakura ready to descend the three snow-laden stone steps of the shop, her feet poised to take a step.
"Sakura!" She yelped, when he grabbed her arm and jerked her back so violently that she stumbled rather unceremoniously into his chest. Ow, Sakura thought as she rubbed her nose, twice in one day! And because of the same person too! She glared up at the aforementioned person. Said person merely looked down at her impassively.
"Just what is your pro--?" Sakura tried asking irately, but Sasuke cut her off with a defeated sigh. "Wait." he merely said, before raking a frustrated hand through his hair. His rebellious hair stuck out in odd angles and Sakura couldn't help but notice he looked younger with mussed hair.
'If you're going to apologize, then do it like a man!'
Damn, there was Naruto, of all people, giving him advice. The idiot was such a headache, even when he wasn't there!
Sakura blinked, temper temporarily abandoned in favour of scrutinizing Sasuke's curious actions. Which, if she was seeing correctly, involved Sasuke irately checking his coat pockets for an elusive object or other, and muttering something that sounded like, 'Leave me alone, dobe!' under his breath.
Just as Sakura was getting worried about his mental condition, and was about to inquire if he was alright, Sasuke pulled out something black and help it upto her face so abruptly, and so close, that Sakura went cross-eyed for a moment. Leaning back cautiously, she blinked at the... gloves in front of her. They were embedded with metal plates, made of strong silver-bronze alloy, on the forefront. The leather was of top quality, Sakura could tell from the way the black surface reflected the white light of the overhead bulb - and she wasn't sure, but it seemed as if the wrist pads were stuffed with polymer elastic, for ease of flexibility.
"...uh, Sasuke?" She asked uncertainly, and then she took hold the wrist dangling the gloves in front of her face, and lowered it. "What are these?"
"Gloves," he informed her dryly, as if a single-celled micro-organism had more intelligence than she did.
Sakura glared, in a manner startlingly similar to his. It made him wonder if living together with him - and Naruto - was having an adverse effect on her usually amiable personality. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit intimidated.
"Yes, I can see that genius," Sakura retorted, "But what're th-"
"They're for you." Sasuke mumbled, and looked away. Sakura wasn't sure if she was imagining the pink on his cheeks, and when Sasuke shrugged, the gesture was painfully awkward. Sakura felt an odd stirring in her chest at the sight - he looked rather cute, when he was awkward.
"I didn't get a chance," he was still mumbling, looking determinedly at a very interesting crack on the railing of the stone steps, "to wrap it, I mean."
There was a tense silence when Sakura, too overwhelmed by Sasuke's sudden display of awkward affection, said nothing. And then a grateful smile slowly spread across her lips, and anger diffusing into a warm, affectionate stirring in her heart, she slowly reached out and touched his hands. Sasuke tensed a little, the movement imperceptible, when her hands closed around his, the one holding the gloves, firmly. When she squeezed it fondly, Sasuke finally turned his head to look at her, and Sakura decided that no, she was not imagining his poorly hidden embarrassment.
Was it normal, Sasuke wondered, to feel so disgustingly warm, and fuzzy and soft, when someone smiled at you? Because, Sakura was looking at him with that look in her eyes - that look of absolute adoration that Sasuke (guiltily) felt should be directed at Naruto instead - and she was smiling at him so, so broadly. Just because he had given her a present. Sasuke wondered how such a small gesture could make someone so happy - and then it occurred to him that perhaps it was because the gesture was from him that made her so happy. The thought choked him with guilt, and he looked away once more, staring down at the snow beneath his feet.
"Sasuke?" He almost flinched when she called his name so tenderly. And thought rather petulantly that sometimes, she called Naruto like that too. And she didn't seem to mind all that much when Naruto decided to give in to his fox-like tendencies, and nuzzle her, like a pet lovingly nuzzled his mistress. (Granted, he didn't protest as much as he could have either when the blonde tried to spoon him - albeit unconsciously - in his sleep...) Hell, she favoured Naruto these days more than she favoured him! Times like that, Sasuke really missed the old Sakura.
"Hn."
He wasn't allowed to sulk as much as he would have liked, because in the next moment, Sakura had tackled him so hard that he almost slipped on the snow.
"Sakura!" he half-heartedly protested as she squeezed the living daylights out of him. She never really hugged him, like she hugged Naruto and the only form of physical affection between them occurred only when she was about to leave for the hospital. She'd kiss Naruto on the cheek - the gesture always left the blonde grinning like an idiot - and then him, and would wave goodbye while Sasuke avoided eye contact with her and tried to get rid of that disturbingly fuzzy feeling in his chest. That fuzzy feeling he was feeling right now as Sakura squeezed the living daylights out of him.
Something told Sasuke that he should protest more because, well, he was Sasuke and his personal space was being invaded, dammit! He was just about to punch that Naruto-like voice that had taken up permanent residence in his head - 'Stop being emo and enjoy it, bastard!'- when Sakura whispered in his ear, in that soft, tender voice that made him feel so loved, "Thank you."
Sasuke froze. And hesitantly wrapped an arm around her, sighing softly in his head. Moments like this - moments he shared with Naruto and Sakura - he secretly treasured forever, and stored into that special box in his mind.
Sakura went lax against him, slowly and so cautiously, as if this was the last time he would ever allow her to be this close to him. Sometimes, just sometimes, Sasuke wanted to tell Sakura that it was okay to touch him, that he liked it - no matter how much he pretended he didn't - whenever Naruto wrestled him to the ground, or whenever she kissed him on the cheek, however chastely, before she left for work. It made him feel as if he was worth something, it made him feel wanted.
He didn't tell her that though, only just sighed into her hair, and breathed in its scent - it was a mixture of spicy ramen and soapy tomatoes and old medical textbooks. Not feminine at all, but so very Sakura.
"You know," Sakura said after a beat had passed, and Sasuke relaxed against her too. "you really didn't have to do this."
"Aa." he then sighed, white, transient puffs of white smoke settling on pink hair, and mumbled, rather reluctantly, "But the idiot does it..."
Sakura drew back from their embrace, a little, just enough to look up at him in mild surprise, hearing his unspoken, "I wanted to, too." The stubborn boy, however, was scrutinizing a very interesting crack on the ground. Sakura sighed - a long suffering sigh that spoke volumes of what she had to endure everyday - before a fond smile lit her lips,
"Seriously, boys. Everything between you two has to be a competition, doesn't it?" Sasuke would've huffed, she was sure, if he was an ordinary teenager - he wasn't, however, and he merely grunted a "Hn," (sometimes, Sakura agreed with Naruto's theory: Sasuke wasa prehistoric caveman in human skin) and proceeded to pout at the ground. Well, it looked more like he was sulking, but... Sakura figured that was as close to a pout Sasuke would ever get.
Sighing fondly, she leaned up on tiptoes to press a small, chaste kiss on his cheek - except, at that moment, Sasuke made the impulsive decision to turn his head, and actually meet her eye in more than five minutes, and ended up on the receiving end of a pair of soft, if slightly cold, lips on his.
A moment of shocked, pervading silence followed in which they stared at each other with wide, dinner-plate eyes. A gentle, momentous breeze. A serendipitous chime of silver bells. And then Sasuke's lips parted, more out of shock than actual compliance. Sakura's breath hitched and she leaned in, just that one inch - they should've pulled away, they really should've, but the moment was too precious and neither wanted it to end quite yet.
Vaguely, Sasuke registered the thunk of shopping bags falling to the snow-laden ground, and then a shaky exhale ghosted across his lips, before a set of teeth hesitantly bit his bottom lip. Another shaky breath, hesitant fingers curling into his hair and then she was kissing him, cautiously, as if she was scared this single act might upset the delicate balance that was their relationship. It had been more than two years since they had started living together, and having Sakura kiss him felt like the most natural thing in the world. As normal as fighting with Naruto everyday, and pretending it was purely on accident that a hand had slid up his shirt.
It was different though - the feeling he was experiencing right now. Naruto ignited the repressed passion that simmered beneath his skin, made him feel alive when he initiated fights - with Sakura, the feeling was more mellow. A not-quite-but-almost contrast. Less intense, more peaceful. And yet somehow, he felt more aware of everything than he had been in a long time. He could hear silver bells humming softly in the wind, could visualize the shade of her hair under the warm illuminations of the overhead ceiling, could feel the warmth sliding up his neck. And her lips sliding over his.
It was strange to have someone kiss you - Sasuke was - outwardly - always of the opinion that the act itself was distasteful, displays of affection for the weak.
'Kiss her back,' that familiar, persistent voice inside his head said, but this time, it wasn't obnoxious - it was almost reassuring, and so Sasuke tried to move his lips against hers. It was more awkward than anything, just hesitant presses of mouth against mouth - but why it pleased him to hear that interesting sound that Sakura made was beyond him. He tried to match her pace - but that restraint he had exercised for the majority of his life wouldn't allow him to do anything more than respond when she brushed against his upper lip.
His world didn't fall away beneath his feet, time didn't freeze, like he had often read in those romance novels that Sakura forced him to read - for therapy, she had said - and neither did he experience the overwhelming desire to sweep the woman off her feet, like the cool, elegant lovers in trashy novels were so eager to. Instead, he felt caught somewhere between a state of awareness - and a state of emotion-induced indulgence. The blood rushing through his veins wasn't helping - it was similar to the rush of adrenaline he felt when he fought Naruto, yet unfamiliar - he felt panicked, paralyzed. It was a heady mix, spiked with the way Sakura moulded her lips onto his like pliable clay.
She tilted her face upwards, until a sliver of skin was exposed beneath her scarf, allowing herself this one impulsive moment with Sasuke. The fingers of frost crept in, and wafted against her exposed neck, and the shudder that materialized from her lips chilled his.
Everything between them was always nebulous. So many things were left unpoken and what little was ever spoken was measured carefully, in a syringe that marked the amount of what they wanted to say and what they were expectedto say. They were never brutally honest with each other and neither were they brilliant liars. They understood the words left unspoken, but for once, Sakura wanted to let go and tell him exactly how she felt. She hoped her feelings would diffuse in through touch.
His hands abruptly came up to manacle the wrists of her hands, that were soaring softly through dark hair, when he recognised - with barely repressed shock - the pure, raw emotion with which she kissed him. She was barely holding herself back, he realized, and he shouldn't have been surprised at all. It was as if all the years of clandestine desire had accumulated into a swirl of longing, and were being poured out into the simple contact of her mouth on his. She was trying to restrain herself from kissing him with more than seven years of longing. She was trying not to scare him. It scared him, to know that she felt this way towards him of all people - the one most unworthy of her affection.
Maybe Sakura sensed how tensed he was, or maybe she had lost the courage with which she had begun to kiss him, but her grip on his hair loosened and she pulled away, with one final press of lips to the corner of his mouth.
He opened his eyes - he didn't know exactly when they had slipped shut - and this time, instead of averting them from her face, he stared at her intently with that unreadable look. Sakura was staring back at him just as boldly - even though her face was slightly flushed - and her defiant, resolute expression clearly told him that she didn't - and would never - regret what she had done. That scared him more than anything, and the words softly slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"Don't do that." he said, but his voice lacked conviction and his stare was transfixed on her lips. When Sakura just stared at him with that look - the morbid one she gave him whenever she wanted to make him feel like a bastard by saying 'Thank you' - Sasuke briefly entertained the bizarre notion that she might do just that. Or maybe, she'd throw his words - do what? - back at him. She did neither of those, and she didn't look away with a hurt expression either. Instead, she smiled.
And that surprised Sasuke even more than her impulsive act, just a minute ago. She smiled, because she knew what Sasuke himself didn't understand - he wasn't ready, for any sort of commitment yet (hence, the romance novels she forced on him). He was not prepared to bear the brunt of as of yet foreign emotions and Sakura was fine with that because she knew Sasuke and she knew he had never been one to easily bend to change.
"Alright," She easily complied, brushing some stray bangs out of his face - a gesture that he didn't mind the gesture as he should have. "But," here she paused and looked up, "it's tradition."
Sasuke's eyes slid over to the ceiling from which a green and red, frost capped sprig of mistletoe dangled, swinging laterally like a pendulum in the wind, and glowed in the illumination of the bulb like an evening star. He hadn't realized that it had been there all along - but apparently, Sakura had, and it made him wonder why she didn't initiate a kiss earlier despite having a perfectly good excuse. And then he mentally slapped himself (and punched that goddamn irritating Naruto-like voice that gleefully shouted, 'You're whipped man! Whipped!') because there were some boundaries he had set for himself - and thinking about Sakura in an indecent manner was one of them. He felt he had just crossed it.
"You knew it was there," his voice came off sounding rather petulant, if not accusing.
"Well, yeah," Sakura admitted, shifting her eyes to the ground at being found out.
"Then why-?"
"Because," a hesitant shrug, and an equally hesitant smile later, she said, "I thought you wouldn't... like it." Sakura fidgeted a little under his gaze. "And it doesn't matter, really-- well-"
Sakura couldn't doubt it - Sasuke did like it, if the way he kissed her, no matter how careful and awkward and almost experimental, was any indication. When Sasuke pulled away, his expression was unflappable once more. It was all he could do not to smirk - not smile - at Sakura's dazed, if slightly stunned expression. He had to admit, he liked that expression better on her than on himself. Besides, she did look very appealing when snowflakes dotting her hair, parted lips swollen and eyes vacillating between dream and reality.
"Let's go." he said, when he let go of her and picked up the shopping bags, before marching gracefully down the three stone steps of the shop onto the snow carpeted road. It took a while for her to realize that Sasuke had just kissed her - and was walking away. Hastily, she skipped down the stone steps, her high-heeled boots padding softly against the powdery snow, and she yelled, "Wait! Where?"
Sasuke stopped to look back at her and his expression was the softest she had ever seen, when he said, "Home."
Home. The word echoed in her head. Coming home to hot ramen and tomato soups and sunny smiles in cold weather. The thought made her smile - and that stirring of undying affection in her chest made her think she'd burst. A smile split her lips and she jogged to Sasuke's side before they resumed walking together.
They walked on through a fairytale - full of strawberry-shortcake houses, and gnomes with candy canes and silver bells - and neither found it necessary to comment on the fact that Sasuke sneaked glances at her discreetly every so often, or that Sakura walked a little closer to him than usual, a perpetually happy grin pasted on her face.
For now, everything was alright in the world, everything was as it should've been from the beginning, and they looked forward to the prospect (although Sasuke would never admit it) of snuggling in front of the fireplace with Naruto. Concluding Notes: As you can see, lying in bed all day, feverish and wrapped in a comforter (because seriously, it's the middle of winter. Brr...), has seriously fried my brain - I kept vacillating between fantasies of a smirking!smug!Casanova!Sasuke and an awkward!teenage!emotionally stupid!Sasuke, so I wrote both. Shameless!fluff has never been my forte but I always seem to end up writing just that (even when I explicitly start out with the intention to write angst!angst!angst!) Remember the Sasuke-joining-Akatsuki business? Well, it never happened. (Oh, if only!) And who was Madara again? Tell me if there's anything I need to edit. Oh, and I'd love your thoughts about the first-second paragraph - it's been years since I've read Narnia or watched Strawberry Shortcake. :D I think I'll go back to sleep now - this fever's killing me. D:
Rating: T
Genre: Romance
Warning: Written within two hours. Unedited. Expect kisses. And shameless cliches. Can also be interpreted as Team Seven fluff (they do share an apartment here, after all). Hints of a possible!future!threesome because I'm just perverted like that.
A more serious warning: Sasuke... reading romance novels. Lothario!Sasuke. Awkward!teenage!Sasuke. Fairytale-ish metaphors. Naruto where you least expect him. And irredeemable fluff. (It's Christmas, what did you expect?)
Summary: Sasuke tries - and sort of fails - to be a Casanova. Sakura just wants to get some ramen. And Naruto? Well...
AN: Let's just pretend that Sasuke came back after killing Itachi and Team Seven lived happily ever after, okay? *rueful sigh* This was the result of a fever-induced delusion. I think you'll know that right away after reading the first paragraph - seriously, fevers tend to make me nostalgic.
The view outside the stained window of the shop was marvelous, as if everything, from the snowflakes that gracefully continued on their descent, to the angel-topped oak trees, was flecked with the touch of a magic paintbrush. The brick red duplex houses that lined the street were like something out of a fairytale. They huddled together, like cute, rotund penguins, seeking neighbourly warmth from each other. The soft, dimly flickering tangerine lights of the lampposts pervaded the atmosphere; and the sheets of snow that capped the roofs of the fairytale houses were like thick icings on top of plump strawberry shortcakes. The cheerful chimneys spouted rings of smoke, like the train to Hogwarts. The yellow lights that filtered through the shuttered, box-shaped windows twinkled like the stars in the Arabian Nights. They spilled over onto the trimmed, well-maintained shrubbery that enclosed the strawberry-shortcake houses like an army of mischievous gnomes. The green, frost-capped gnomes proudly displayed the Christmas decorations they were embellished with as if they were badges, bestowed by the White Queen; badges that consisted of red-and-white striped candy canes, and a multitude of silver bells that jingled merry Christmas tunes with alacrity, whenever a cold wind nudged them.
And it was a merry tune to Sakura's ears indeed. It reminded her of a cool, enigmatic Kakashi - cheerful one moment, and then downright scary the next, as black clouds loomed ominously in the distance. Naruto's face came to mind as well - tied-up to a log, kicking and screaming, and then instantly hopeful as soon as she volunteered to feed him. But the memory that she was most fond of, surprisingly, wasn't Sasuke's grudging demeanor as he conceded to the idea of feeding the other boy, or the disdainful expression on his face the first time he'd called her annoying. It was Sasuke's head, poking out of the ground like a garden gnome's, and the completely bored, if slightly disgruntled, expression on his face.
The memory made her giggle - and perhaps, even a bit smug when it occurred to her that she could probably do that to Sasuke the next time he tried to immobilize her with his stupid snakes during training. Ah, she'd enjoy throwing that memory in his face. She turned her attention from the large glass window, to the rack of items that was situated right beside it. The satisfied, if slightly feral, grin never left her face. Oh, Sakura thought gleefully as she tried (in vain) to reach the canned miso ramen on the top counter, what she would give to see Sasuke's expression...
"What's so funny?" Sakura yelped and turned around instinctively, only to bump her nose into Sasuke's chest with a rather startled 'oomph!'
She drew back, hands cupping her nose, and blinked up at a rather amused looking Sasuke. How he managed to look so cool and unaffected, with a bundle of tomatoes dangling from his left hand, was beyond her.
"Sasuke!" she exclaimed, her hands muffling the sound. Sasuke merely raised an elegant eyebrow at her, and Sakura realized she was supposed to answer his initial inquiry. Just the mere thought of the subject made her giggle. She tried to smother them, if only to spare Sasuke the embarrassment of that memory. She really did.
"It's nothing, really!" Sakura said between bouts of repressed mirth - Sasuke did not look convinced.
Sakura sighed. "Ok, fine. I was just thinking about our Genin days. Memories and stuff." she confessed, scratching the bridge of her nose rather sheepishly. She looked rather... cute like that, Sasuke thought, discomfited. And then he cleared his throat in an attempt to abandon that rather disconcerting train of thought.
"Really? Which one?" he pulled off the smirk well enough, he thought, feeling rather triumphant. And then he felt incredibly childish about feeling triumphant. At least he didn't smile back - the tendency to do so was so overwhelming sometimes, when he was near Sakura or Naruto for extended periods of time. Happiness, it seemed, was rather contagious.
His mind abandoned the rather problematic matter of smiling, in favour of Sakura's voice. "...ou know, the oh-so-romantic kiss you shared with Naruto back at the Academy." Sakura was saying.
Sasuke blinked. And then turned a wonderful shade of red. "I--that was!- Hn!" he stated, rather eloquently. The cold, he told himself as he ignored the blush on his cheeks. It was just the cold.
The laughter that bubbled out of Sakura's throat dissolved any lingering embarrassment, however, and suddenly, the pink abated from his slightly chilled cheeks. He found himself staring, transfixed, as Sakura continued to laugh. Her nose scrunched up a little, in that adorable, cat-like way; her eyes lit up too. The sound of her laughter wasn't melodious, unlike the wind chimes (and the strategically placed mistletoes) dangling from the ceiling of the shop. Her laughter was soft, saturated with the husky, almost seductive, quality of her voice; but it wasn't feminine. It was slightly boyish - throaty. And so, so carefree.
Her cheeks were turning a pale pink too and then her laughter came to an abrupt end. Sasuke realized he was staring. He could tell, from the blood rushing to her cheeks and the way she kept fidgeting under his gaze, that Sakura was embarrassed. Her embarrassment embarrassed him.
They stared at each other, surrounded by a lukewarm silence. Sakura was outright blushing now - Sasuke was very much certain his pale complexion had turned a rosier shade as well. The ramen aisle they were in was isolated from the rest of the shop. The shelves on either sides, embellished with various assortment of ramen, created a narrow, tiled pathway. They stood, quite alone, and stared. And stared.
Sandwiched between a shelf of cold canned steel, and a warm chest, her nerves were frayed with anticipation. And then suddenly, the embarrassed silence shifted into an expectant one.
Outside, a vicious wind blew, picking up powdery flakes of snow...
She leaned up. He leaned down...
And the shrill resonance of silver bells bounced off the walls of the shop like a stray ping pong ball, effectively ruining the moment.
Sakura jumped, startled. And then, flustered, she coughed into her gloved fist, before turning her attention back to the shelf of ramen. Ignoring the source of warmth on her back was proving to be as fruitful an effort a trying to reach that canned chicken flavoured ramen that mocked her from its perch.
She chanced a peek at him over her shoulder, and was surprised to see him looking at her still, with that unreadable expression, and as if-- as if... Sakura hastily turned back to the lacquered, whitewashed shelf. "Don't do that." she found herself muttering, as she tried to reach the chicken-flavoured ramen on the top shelf. Her fingers just brushed the surface of the can, when...
"Do what?" Sakura froze. The smooth, baritone voice had just been next to her ear. His steady, if just minutely cool, breath was a warm ghost against her cheek. It chilled her. Apparently, Sasuke knew how to articulate his words so they traipsed over each other and spilled out of his mouth like invisible, transient caresses.
Sakura gulped, discreetly, in order to wet her suddenly parched throat. She wasn't sure if it was possible to feel someone smirk.
"Don't-- don't look at me like that."
"Like... what?" Sasuke asked, voice slightly muffled by a sheet of pink hair. He almost sounded... playful. His hand trailed up her arm, which was still outstretched towards the canned ramen, and settled over hers. It began tracing a gloved finger.
Sakura's eyes widened. Oh god, was Sasuke actually flirting with her?
"Like-- like!" She stammered incoherently, when he pressed his chest to her back.
"Hm?" He was flirting with her! The thought sounded ludicrous, even in her head, but there was no mistaking that amused, if slightly teasing, tone of his voice.
His body pressed even closer to hers, until his spiky hair nuzzled her neck and his eyelashes brushed against her cheek. His warn, foggy breath fluttered against her cold cheek, and in a trance, Sakura started turning her face towards him, just a little. And suddenly, the warmth that had engulfed her was gone. Her lips met thin air.
She opened her eyes - she didn't remember closing them - and saw a decidedly smug looking Sasuke holding out that ramen can towards her. He was smirking. It took a moment for Sakura to realize what had just happened. Had he just...?
Colour rose spontaneously to her cheeks. She couldn't decide whether she should gape, or be angry. She settled for the latter. How dare he?!
"Why you-" Sakura was ready to fly into an apoplectic rage. She didn't know exactly what she was angry at him for, but that self-satisfied smirk was more than enough to infuriate her. "You-you! You!"
"Me."
That was the last straw! With a violent swipe of her hand - Sasuke was sure she meant to leave a scratch mark - she snatched the ramen can from his hand, growled like an angry feline, and stomped towards the counter. Sasuke smirked after her - Naruto was right: she always did look very beautiful when she was furious.
Sasuke wasn't smug for long. Sakura was ignoring him. He just knew she was. It wasn't unusual for Sakura to be silent around him - their relationship had progressed to the stage where they appreciated each other's quiet companionship - a stage where Sakura didn't always have to wonder what Sasuke was thinking, and Sasuke didn't have to wonder when she had changed so much.
But now Sakura was being purposefully silent. It wasn't their normal, comfortable silence though. It was the 'I'm-ignoring-you-and-I-want-you-to-know-it' silence, and it radiated in intense waves from her and choked him with guilt. Was she still mad at him about that incident half an hour ago? He only did that to see her reaction! He hadn't meant to infuriate her enough to make her ignore him! Enduring a cold shoulder from her was worse than enduring one of her rants, coupled with a fist to the face because when she put her mind to it, Sakura could ignore someone to the point that the victim of her silent fury felt like the lowest scumbag in existence. (He seemed to recall Shikamaru once griping about Ino's ability to do that as well).
Che, stupid woman sure could hold a grudge. And make him feel like a complete bastard.
When he had nonchalantly asked her if she needed any help with her shopping baskets, Sakura had looked up from the apples she was surveying to spare him a glance. And then, her face completely devoid of expression, voice vapid, she had said, "No, but..." here, she had stopped for a dramatic pause, "Thank you, Sasuke."
And then she had prettily sashayed up to the sweetmeat aisle, leaving him feeling like a completely cold, undeserving bastard.
By the time they were done shopping and had cleared up the bill (god knows how much ramen they had bought for Naruto), Sasuke felt - and he would never admit it - irrevocably guilty. And regretted his earlier impulsive actions. Even though, technically, he had done nothing wrong. Except maybe, flirt with her. And there was technically nothing wrong with that either, Sasuke thought stubbornly. But why he felt the need to apologize - and for what exactly - he didn't know. Maybe it was because Sakura had made it pretty clear that she wouldn't talk to him until he offered up an apology. Shikamaru was right - women were troublesome.
The shopkeeper offered them a pleasant smile - which Sakura returned - bidding them a safe journey through the snow, and a Merry Christmas.
It was just as Sakura turned the knob of the exit that Sasuke sighed, in blatant exasperation, and plucking up his resolve, said, "Sakura."
Sakura stilled, her firm grip on the doorknob tightening just a fraction, and then, with startling composure, she inclined her head over her shoulder to look at Sasuke, nothing but cool disinterest in her gaze. "Yes?"
At the sight of her nonchalant demeanor, the apology he had meant to mutter decided to remain lodged in his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it, and a voice inside his head, which sounded suspiciously like Naruto, urgently told him to say something, bastard!
Sakura's expectant look began to wane, and when she finally seemed to have had enough of his inability to articulate two small words, she turned her back to him with a huff and resumed winding the doorknob.
"Do you need help carrying those?" He blurted out lamely - she had already told him - and quite clearly too - that she didn't. And if the way Sakura's eyes narrowed were any indication, she probably thought he was a male chauvinist pig for assuming she needed help, when she had clearly stated that she didn't. Damn, stupid mouth! He hadn't meant it like that! If there was anything Sakura hated more than a dying patient, it was being called weak, in any sense of the word, whether implied or direct.
His suspicions were only confirmed when Sakura's eyes flashed dangerously, and she tersely bit out, "No. Superhuman strength does have its advantages, Sasuke."
And as if to demonstrate her point, she stepped outside - something that was suspiciously close to panic rose in Sasuke's chest at the sight of her walking away - and slammed the door of the shop shut... or tried to anyway. It was only Sasuke's swift reflexes that spared the shop owner the expense of replacing a lacquered, mahogany door. He caught the doorknob before it could slam shut, and stepped outside quickly to see Sakura ready to descend the three snow-laden stone steps of the shop, her feet poised to take a step.
"Sakura!" She yelped, when he grabbed her arm and jerked her back so violently that she stumbled rather unceremoniously into his chest. Ow, Sakura thought as she rubbed her nose, twice in one day! And because of the same person too! She glared up at the aforementioned person. Said person merely looked down at her impassively.
"Just what is your pro--?" Sakura tried asking irately, but Sasuke cut her off with a defeated sigh. "Wait." he merely said, before raking a frustrated hand through his hair. His rebellious hair stuck out in odd angles and Sakura couldn't help but notice he looked younger with mussed hair.
'If you're going to apologize, then do it like a man!'
Damn, there was Naruto, of all people, giving him advice. The idiot was such a headache, even when he wasn't there!
Sakura blinked, temper temporarily abandoned in favour of scrutinizing Sasuke's curious actions. Which, if she was seeing correctly, involved Sasuke irately checking his coat pockets for an elusive object or other, and muttering something that sounded like, 'Leave me alone, dobe!' under his breath.
Just as Sakura was getting worried about his mental condition, and was about to inquire if he was alright, Sasuke pulled out something black and help it upto her face so abruptly, and so close, that Sakura went cross-eyed for a moment. Leaning back cautiously, she blinked at the... gloves in front of her. They were embedded with metal plates, made of strong silver-bronze alloy, on the forefront. The leather was of top quality, Sakura could tell from the way the black surface reflected the white light of the overhead bulb - and she wasn't sure, but it seemed as if the wrist pads were stuffed with polymer elastic, for ease of flexibility.
"...uh, Sasuke?" She asked uncertainly, and then she took hold the wrist dangling the gloves in front of her face, and lowered it. "What are these?"
"Gloves," he informed her dryly, as if a single-celled micro-organism had more intelligence than she did.
Sakura glared, in a manner startlingly similar to his. It made him wonder if living together with him - and Naruto - was having an adverse effect on her usually amiable personality. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit intimidated.
"Yes, I can see that genius," Sakura retorted, "But what're th-"
"They're for you." Sasuke mumbled, and looked away. Sakura wasn't sure if she was imagining the pink on his cheeks, and when Sasuke shrugged, the gesture was painfully awkward. Sakura felt an odd stirring in her chest at the sight - he looked rather cute, when he was awkward.
"I didn't get a chance," he was still mumbling, looking determinedly at a very interesting crack on the railing of the stone steps, "to wrap it, I mean."
There was a tense silence when Sakura, too overwhelmed by Sasuke's sudden display of awkward affection, said nothing. And then a grateful smile slowly spread across her lips, and anger diffusing into a warm, affectionate stirring in her heart, she slowly reached out and touched his hands. Sasuke tensed a little, the movement imperceptible, when her hands closed around his, the one holding the gloves, firmly. When she squeezed it fondly, Sasuke finally turned his head to look at her, and Sakura decided that no, she was not imagining his poorly hidden embarrassment.
Was it normal, Sasuke wondered, to feel so disgustingly warm, and fuzzy and soft, when someone smiled at you? Because, Sakura was looking at him with that look in her eyes - that look of absolute adoration that Sasuke (guiltily) felt should be directed at Naruto instead - and she was smiling at him so, so broadly. Just because he had given her a present. Sasuke wondered how such a small gesture could make someone so happy - and then it occurred to him that perhaps it was because the gesture was from him that made her so happy. The thought choked him with guilt, and he looked away once more, staring down at the snow beneath his feet.
"Sasuke?" He almost flinched when she called his name so tenderly. And thought rather petulantly that sometimes, she called Naruto like that too. And she didn't seem to mind all that much when Naruto decided to give in to his fox-like tendencies, and nuzzle her, like a pet lovingly nuzzled his mistress. (Granted, he didn't protest as much as he could have either when the blonde tried to spoon him - albeit unconsciously - in his sleep...) Hell, she favoured Naruto these days more than she favoured him! Times like that, Sasuke really missed the old Sakura.
"Hn."
He wasn't allowed to sulk as much as he would have liked, because in the next moment, Sakura had tackled him so hard that he almost slipped on the snow.
"Sakura!" he half-heartedly protested as she squeezed the living daylights out of him. She never really hugged him, like she hugged Naruto and the only form of physical affection between them occurred only when she was about to leave for the hospital. She'd kiss Naruto on the cheek - the gesture always left the blonde grinning like an idiot - and then him, and would wave goodbye while Sasuke avoided eye contact with her and tried to get rid of that disturbingly fuzzy feeling in his chest. That fuzzy feeling he was feeling right now as Sakura squeezed the living daylights out of him.
Something told Sasuke that he should protest more because, well, he was Sasuke and his personal space was being invaded, dammit! He was just about to punch that Naruto-like voice that had taken up permanent residence in his head - 'Stop being emo and enjoy it, bastard!'- when Sakura whispered in his ear, in that soft, tender voice that made him feel so loved, "Thank you."
Sasuke froze. And hesitantly wrapped an arm around her, sighing softly in his head. Moments like this - moments he shared with Naruto and Sakura - he secretly treasured forever, and stored into that special box in his mind.
Sakura went lax against him, slowly and so cautiously, as if this was the last time he would ever allow her to be this close to him. Sometimes, just sometimes, Sasuke wanted to tell Sakura that it was okay to touch him, that he liked it - no matter how much he pretended he didn't - whenever Naruto wrestled him to the ground, or whenever she kissed him on the cheek, however chastely, before she left for work. It made him feel as if he was worth something, it made him feel wanted.
He didn't tell her that though, only just sighed into her hair, and breathed in its scent - it was a mixture of spicy ramen and soapy tomatoes and old medical textbooks. Not feminine at all, but so very Sakura.
"You know," Sakura said after a beat had passed, and Sasuke relaxed against her too. "you really didn't have to do this."
"Aa." he then sighed, white, transient puffs of white smoke settling on pink hair, and mumbled, rather reluctantly, "But the idiot does it..."
Sakura drew back from their embrace, a little, just enough to look up at him in mild surprise, hearing his unspoken, "I wanted to, too." The stubborn boy, however, was scrutinizing a very interesting crack on the ground. Sakura sighed - a long suffering sigh that spoke volumes of what she had to endure everyday - before a fond smile lit her lips,
"Seriously, boys. Everything between you two has to be a competition, doesn't it?" Sasuke would've huffed, she was sure, if he was an ordinary teenager - he wasn't, however, and he merely grunted a "Hn," (sometimes, Sakura agreed with Naruto's theory: Sasuke wasa prehistoric caveman in human skin) and proceeded to pout at the ground. Well, it looked more like he was sulking, but... Sakura figured that was as close to a pout Sasuke would ever get.
Sighing fondly, she leaned up on tiptoes to press a small, chaste kiss on his cheek - except, at that moment, Sasuke made the impulsive decision to turn his head, and actually meet her eye in more than five minutes, and ended up on the receiving end of a pair of soft, if slightly cold, lips on his.
A moment of shocked, pervading silence followed in which they stared at each other with wide, dinner-plate eyes. A gentle, momentous breeze. A serendipitous chime of silver bells. And then Sasuke's lips parted, more out of shock than actual compliance. Sakura's breath hitched and she leaned in, just that one inch - they should've pulled away, they really should've, but the moment was too precious and neither wanted it to end quite yet.
Vaguely, Sasuke registered the thunk of shopping bags falling to the snow-laden ground, and then a shaky exhale ghosted across his lips, before a set of teeth hesitantly bit his bottom lip. Another shaky breath, hesitant fingers curling into his hair and then she was kissing him, cautiously, as if she was scared this single act might upset the delicate balance that was their relationship. It had been more than two years since they had started living together, and having Sakura kiss him felt like the most natural thing in the world. As normal as fighting with Naruto everyday, and pretending it was purely on accident that a hand had slid up his shirt.
It was different though - the feeling he was experiencing right now. Naruto ignited the repressed passion that simmered beneath his skin, made him feel alive when he initiated fights - with Sakura, the feeling was more mellow. A not-quite-but-almost contrast. Less intense, more peaceful. And yet somehow, he felt more aware of everything than he had been in a long time. He could hear silver bells humming softly in the wind, could visualize the shade of her hair under the warm illuminations of the overhead ceiling, could feel the warmth sliding up his neck. And her lips sliding over his.
It was strange to have someone kiss you - Sasuke was - outwardly - always of the opinion that the act itself was distasteful, displays of affection for the weak.
'Kiss her back,' that familiar, persistent voice inside his head said, but this time, it wasn't obnoxious - it was almost reassuring, and so Sasuke tried to move his lips against hers. It was more awkward than anything, just hesitant presses of mouth against mouth - but why it pleased him to hear that interesting sound that Sakura made was beyond him. He tried to match her pace - but that restraint he had exercised for the majority of his life wouldn't allow him to do anything more than respond when she brushed against his upper lip.
His world didn't fall away beneath his feet, time didn't freeze, like he had often read in those romance novels that Sakura forced him to read - for therapy, she had said - and neither did he experience the overwhelming desire to sweep the woman off her feet, like the cool, elegant lovers in trashy novels were so eager to. Instead, he felt caught somewhere between a state of awareness - and a state of emotion-induced indulgence. The blood rushing through his veins wasn't helping - it was similar to the rush of adrenaline he felt when he fought Naruto, yet unfamiliar - he felt panicked, paralyzed. It was a heady mix, spiked with the way Sakura moulded her lips onto his like pliable clay.
She tilted her face upwards, until a sliver of skin was exposed beneath her scarf, allowing herself this one impulsive moment with Sasuke. The fingers of frost crept in, and wafted against her exposed neck, and the shudder that materialized from her lips chilled his.
Everything between them was always nebulous. So many things were left unpoken and what little was ever spoken was measured carefully, in a syringe that marked the amount of what they wanted to say and what they were expectedto say. They were never brutally honest with each other and neither were they brilliant liars. They understood the words left unspoken, but for once, Sakura wanted to let go and tell him exactly how she felt. She hoped her feelings would diffuse in through touch.
His hands abruptly came up to manacle the wrists of her hands, that were soaring softly through dark hair, when he recognised - with barely repressed shock - the pure, raw emotion with which she kissed him. She was barely holding herself back, he realized, and he shouldn't have been surprised at all. It was as if all the years of clandestine desire had accumulated into a swirl of longing, and were being poured out into the simple contact of her mouth on his. She was trying to restrain herself from kissing him with more than seven years of longing. She was trying not to scare him. It scared him, to know that she felt this way towards him of all people - the one most unworthy of her affection.
Maybe Sakura sensed how tensed he was, or maybe she had lost the courage with which she had begun to kiss him, but her grip on his hair loosened and she pulled away, with one final press of lips to the corner of his mouth.
He opened his eyes - he didn't know exactly when they had slipped shut - and this time, instead of averting them from her face, he stared at her intently with that unreadable look. Sakura was staring back at him just as boldly - even though her face was slightly flushed - and her defiant, resolute expression clearly told him that she didn't - and would never - regret what she had done. That scared him more than anything, and the words softly slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"Don't do that." he said, but his voice lacked conviction and his stare was transfixed on her lips. When Sakura just stared at him with that look - the morbid one she gave him whenever she wanted to make him feel like a bastard by saying 'Thank you' - Sasuke briefly entertained the bizarre notion that she might do just that. Or maybe, she'd throw his words - do what? - back at him. She did neither of those, and she didn't look away with a hurt expression either. Instead, she smiled.
And that surprised Sasuke even more than her impulsive act, just a minute ago. She smiled, because she knew what Sasuke himself didn't understand - he wasn't ready, for any sort of commitment yet (hence, the romance novels she forced on him). He was not prepared to bear the brunt of as of yet foreign emotions and Sakura was fine with that because she knew Sasuke and she knew he had never been one to easily bend to change.
"Alright," She easily complied, brushing some stray bangs out of his face - a gesture that he didn't mind the gesture as he should have. "But," here she paused and looked up, "it's tradition."
Sasuke's eyes slid over to the ceiling from which a green and red, frost capped sprig of mistletoe dangled, swinging laterally like a pendulum in the wind, and glowed in the illumination of the bulb like an evening star. He hadn't realized that it had been there all along - but apparently, Sakura had, and it made him wonder why she didn't initiate a kiss earlier despite having a perfectly good excuse. And then he mentally slapped himself (and punched that goddamn irritating Naruto-like voice that gleefully shouted, 'You're whipped man! Whipped!') because there were some boundaries he had set for himself - and thinking about Sakura in an indecent manner was one of them. He felt he had just crossed it.
"You knew it was there," his voice came off sounding rather petulant, if not accusing.
"Well, yeah," Sakura admitted, shifting her eyes to the ground at being found out.
"Then why-?"
"Because," a hesitant shrug, and an equally hesitant smile later, she said, "I thought you wouldn't... like it." Sakura fidgeted a little under his gaze. "And it doesn't matter, really-- well-"
Sakura couldn't doubt it - Sasuke did like it, if the way he kissed her, no matter how careful and awkward and almost experimental, was any indication. When Sasuke pulled away, his expression was unflappable once more. It was all he could do not to smirk - not smile - at Sakura's dazed, if slightly stunned expression. He had to admit, he liked that expression better on her than on himself. Besides, she did look very appealing when snowflakes dotting her hair, parted lips swollen and eyes vacillating between dream and reality.
"Let's go." he said, when he let go of her and picked up the shopping bags, before marching gracefully down the three stone steps of the shop onto the snow carpeted road. It took a while for her to realize that Sasuke had just kissed her - and was walking away. Hastily, she skipped down the stone steps, her high-heeled boots padding softly against the powdery snow, and she yelled, "Wait! Where?"
Sasuke stopped to look back at her and his expression was the softest she had ever seen, when he said, "Home."
Home. The word echoed in her head. Coming home to hot ramen and tomato soups and sunny smiles in cold weather. The thought made her smile - and that stirring of undying affection in her chest made her think she'd burst. A smile split her lips and she jogged to Sasuke's side before they resumed walking together.
They walked on through a fairytale - full of strawberry-shortcake houses, and gnomes with candy canes and silver bells - and neither found it necessary to comment on the fact that Sasuke sneaked glances at her discreetly every so often, or that Sakura walked a little closer to him than usual, a perpetually happy grin pasted on her face.
For now, everything was alright in the world, everything was as it should've been from the beginning, and they looked forward to the prospect (although Sasuke would never admit it) of snuggling in front of the fireplace with Naruto. Concluding Notes: As you can see, lying in bed all day, feverish and wrapped in a comforter (because seriously, it's the middle of winter. Brr...), has seriously fried my brain - I kept vacillating between fantasies of a smirking!smug!Casanova!Sasuke and an awkward!teenage!emotionally stupid!Sasuke, so I wrote both. Shameless!fluff has never been my forte but I always seem to end up writing just that (even when I explicitly start out with the intention to write angst!angst!angst!) Remember the Sasuke-joining-Akatsuki business? Well, it never happened. (Oh, if only!) And who was Madara again? Tell me if there's anything I need to edit. Oh, and I'd love your thoughts about the first-second paragraph - it's been years since I've read Narnia or watched Strawberry Shortcake. :D I think I'll go back to sleep now - this fever's killing me. D: