I Just Wanna Love With You (1/1)
Naruto and Sasuke: Well...we’re back...in the car on the couch again.
anza: At least you’re out of the tree bed.
/shot
I just realised WMS is just like WiB, totally CSI: Nick and Greg Redux (couch definitely included). Maybe. It seems very familiar, probably because they're both very domestic series, but I can only hope so many of these kinds of scenes are okay. Finally, taking a break from HP, though. So, so very difficult (almost thought about bustin’ out my hardbacks), but now I’m trying to get back into Naruto. For now, anyway.
And oh god, it's actually PG. Holler at your homeskillet-slice of cherry pie, yo. (Read: Please bear with me as my sanity continues its steep decline)
***
Characters: Naruto/Sasuke
Rating: PG
Words: 1227
Summary: “The only medicine I need is you."
The number seventy in the lower right hand corner marks the page where Sasuke slips a torn sheet of paper jagged along its side, holding his place in the worn anthology frayed and coming undone at the seams of the spine.
Stretched out on the couch, he sits up, folding his legs beneath and holding the book in his lap, frowning at the sight of Naruto stepping out of the hallway. “I thought you were sleeping?”
“...tired of sleeping all day.” Naruto shuffles into the middle of living room, stilled by a hacking cough that only sounds a little less cringe worthy than it did this morning. He gives a few pats to his chest, forcing out another cough that sounds as congested the first. “I don’t like being sick.”
“That’s nice.” Leaning over the edge of the couch, Sasuke reaches for the can of Perrier on the floor. He pulls back the tab, a fine mist of bubbles tickling his nose as he swallows a generous sip of water. “Now go be sick somewhere else.”
“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to offer to take care of me?” An oversized pillow clutched at his side, Naruto brings closer around him the large fleece blanket pulled over his head, covered from head to knee in a bright orange that clashes with messy tufts of blond hair sticking out from beneath the blanket framing his face.
“Coming across so pitiful because of a cold, giving me that look, what kind of self-respecting man are you?”
Naruto just sniffs. “Sasuke...”
Rolling his eyes, Sasuke places his water on the table. “Come here, you baby.” The book in his lap he sets aside, tucks it between the cushion and arm rest to make room for Naruto on the couch.
“Treating me so poorly after leaving me by myself all day...”
“My schedule doesn’t revolve around you.” Right arm raised midair, elbow bent, Sasuke watches Naruto settle against his side, patient as the upper half of the oversized pillow being fluffed spills into his lap. “Not having any classes today, be appreciative you didn’t have to go through the trouble of getting a doctor’s note.”
“You remember that the next time you’re sick, and you want me to take care of you.”
Sasuke lowers his arm. “Okay.”
“I’m serious,” Naruto says, haphazardly sprawled, tangled within the blanket, lying on his back and taking up as much space as humanly possible. Laying his head in Sasuke’s lap, he brings up his knee of the foot planted on the cushion, his other leg lifted and draped over the back of the couch.
“Mm-hm.” Hand slipping beneath a grey a-shirt, gently, Sasuke begins to massage Naruto’s chest, fingers applying a slight pressure across his sternum.
“...oh, yeah.” Eyes closing, Naruto makes a low noise almost a purr, a deep rumble that travels through warm skin and becomes a tingle at the tips of Sasuke’s fingers. “Right there. That...that feels good.”
“You want to take some more medicine?”
Naruto peers up with eyes half-lidded, drawn on his face slightly flushed a drowsy smile Sasuke can’t fully blame on the medicine he gave Naruto earlier. “The only medicine I need is you,” is a soft murmur, stuck around that same inane smile, but the smile disappears beneath a grimace when Naruto starts to cough again.
He turns on his side, knee dropped closer to his chest, leg falling from the back of the couch and shoulders hunched.
“Saying that kind of thing even with a cold...” Sasuke sighs, inhaling the faint smell of methanol as his fingers absently run through blond hair. Gradually, his hand moves lower, kneading the back of Naruto’s neck. “You’re such an impossible guy.”
Leaning into Sasuke’s touch, Naruto moans, left arm reaching to hold Sasuke’s waist. “...I don’t like being sick,” he mutters, a little hoarse. His other arm curls around the lower half of the pillow, and he extends both legs, one stretched out uneven over the right arm rest.
“Go back to sleep then.”
“Sleeping all day makes you even more tired at night. Did you know that?” Following another groan, Naruto shifts again, pulling himself closer to Sasuke. “Did I already say how much I don’t like being-wait, are these...are these my pants?”
A finger and thumb reach to tug at the soft red material of the hem revealing Sasuke’s ankle. “These are my pants, aren’t they. Why are-you know how long I’ve been looking for these?”
“I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Being sick doesn’t mean I can’t recognise my own pants,” Naruto mumbles into the pillow. He turns his head to face Sasuke. “Then what makes you doing this sort of thing even worse, you like to make me wash whatever you steal, since you’re the kind of guy too lazy to wear your clothes.”
“You must not be that sick if you still have this much energy to complain.”
Naruto sniffs, finger poking Sasuke’s hip. “I’m starting to feel better,” he says, although Sasuke keeps to himself how awful Naruto’s cough still sounds. “That citrus aloe stuff you bought helped a little. You could have warned me it had pulp in it, though.” He scrunches his nose then shudders. “There should be a ban on putting pulp in juice. I don’t know how you can drink it like that.”
Sasuke makes a soft noise, rearranging the blanket over Naruto and pulling it up to his chest.
“What’re you still doing up, anyway?”
“Reading Akutagawa.”
“Oh.” Tightening his hold around him, closing his eyes, Naruto begins to nod off. “You’re still on that? I’d think you read all that guy’s stories by now.”
“Blame Kakashi.” Sasuke grunts, reaching for the book beginning to dig into his thigh. “Giving me the book was his idea of a bribe, but I’m trying to decide if it’s worth putting up with him for another term. It’s bad enough I have to deal with him outside of class as much as I do.”
Naruto smiles, an already soft expression seemingly made softer by his eyes still closed. “...I didn’t know you liked him so much.”
Whether he’s referring to Akutagawa or Kakashi, Sasuke doesn’t ask. Reaching around Naruto, elbow laid over his side, he opens the anthology of short stories. The scrap piece of paper marking his place on page seventy, he moves it to the back of the book and picks up where he left off on Akiyama.
He listens to Naruto breathe, continues to read as the rise and fall of Naruto’s chest begins to slow. In the quiet that settles in the room, halfway through the story, he flips another page. It doesn’t take much longer, however, before the arm around his waist becomes lax and the abrupt sound of loud snoring breaks through the silence.
There’s a low rustle as Naruto’s other hand falls off the seat of the couch, fingers almost but not quite touching the floor.
Looking down, Sasuke lets out a soft snort. Cheek squished against the pillow, mouth ajar and nose tinged red, it’s the same unattractive image of Naruto he left with this morning, the same face a constant image in the back of his mind all day, and he bites at the corner of his lip, turning back to his book when his teeth fail to curb a tiny smile.
anza: At least you’re out of the tree bed.
/shot
I just realised WMS is just like WiB, totally CSI: Nick and Greg Redux (couch definitely included). Maybe. It seems very familiar, probably because they're both very domestic series, but I can only hope so many of these kinds of scenes are okay. Finally, taking a break from HP, though. So, so very difficult (almost thought about bustin’ out my hardbacks), but now I’m trying to get back into Naruto. For now, anyway.
And oh god, it's actually PG. Holler at your homeskillet-slice of cherry pie, yo. (Read: Please bear with me as my sanity continues its steep decline)
***
Characters: Naruto/Sasuke
Rating: PG
Words: 1227
Summary: “The only medicine I need is you."
The number seventy in the lower right hand corner marks the page where Sasuke slips a torn sheet of paper jagged along its side, holding his place in the worn anthology frayed and coming undone at the seams of the spine.
Stretched out on the couch, he sits up, folding his legs beneath and holding the book in his lap, frowning at the sight of Naruto stepping out of the hallway. “I thought you were sleeping?”
“...tired of sleeping all day.” Naruto shuffles into the middle of living room, stilled by a hacking cough that only sounds a little less cringe worthy than it did this morning. He gives a few pats to his chest, forcing out another cough that sounds as congested the first. “I don’t like being sick.”
“That’s nice.” Leaning over the edge of the couch, Sasuke reaches for the can of Perrier on the floor. He pulls back the tab, a fine mist of bubbles tickling his nose as he swallows a generous sip of water. “Now go be sick somewhere else.”
“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to offer to take care of me?” An oversized pillow clutched at his side, Naruto brings closer around him the large fleece blanket pulled over his head, covered from head to knee in a bright orange that clashes with messy tufts of blond hair sticking out from beneath the blanket framing his face.
“Coming across so pitiful because of a cold, giving me that look, what kind of self-respecting man are you?”
Naruto just sniffs. “Sasuke...”
Rolling his eyes, Sasuke places his water on the table. “Come here, you baby.” The book in his lap he sets aside, tucks it between the cushion and arm rest to make room for Naruto on the couch.
“Treating me so poorly after leaving me by myself all day...”
“My schedule doesn’t revolve around you.” Right arm raised midair, elbow bent, Sasuke watches Naruto settle against his side, patient as the upper half of the oversized pillow being fluffed spills into his lap. “Not having any classes today, be appreciative you didn’t have to go through the trouble of getting a doctor’s note.”
“You remember that the next time you’re sick, and you want me to take care of you.”
Sasuke lowers his arm. “Okay.”
“I’m serious,” Naruto says, haphazardly sprawled, tangled within the blanket, lying on his back and taking up as much space as humanly possible. Laying his head in Sasuke’s lap, he brings up his knee of the foot planted on the cushion, his other leg lifted and draped over the back of the couch.
“Mm-hm.” Hand slipping beneath a grey a-shirt, gently, Sasuke begins to massage Naruto’s chest, fingers applying a slight pressure across his sternum.
“...oh, yeah.” Eyes closing, Naruto makes a low noise almost a purr, a deep rumble that travels through warm skin and becomes a tingle at the tips of Sasuke’s fingers. “Right there. That...that feels good.”
“You want to take some more medicine?”
Naruto peers up with eyes half-lidded, drawn on his face slightly flushed a drowsy smile Sasuke can’t fully blame on the medicine he gave Naruto earlier. “The only medicine I need is you,” is a soft murmur, stuck around that same inane smile, but the smile disappears beneath a grimace when Naruto starts to cough again.
He turns on his side, knee dropped closer to his chest, leg falling from the back of the couch and shoulders hunched.
“Saying that kind of thing even with a cold...” Sasuke sighs, inhaling the faint smell of methanol as his fingers absently run through blond hair. Gradually, his hand moves lower, kneading the back of Naruto’s neck. “You’re such an impossible guy.”
Leaning into Sasuke’s touch, Naruto moans, left arm reaching to hold Sasuke’s waist. “...I don’t like being sick,” he mutters, a little hoarse. His other arm curls around the lower half of the pillow, and he extends both legs, one stretched out uneven over the right arm rest.
“Go back to sleep then.”
“Sleeping all day makes you even more tired at night. Did you know that?” Following another groan, Naruto shifts again, pulling himself closer to Sasuke. “Did I already say how much I don’t like being-wait, are these...are these my pants?”
A finger and thumb reach to tug at the soft red material of the hem revealing Sasuke’s ankle. “These are my pants, aren’t they. Why are-you know how long I’ve been looking for these?”
“I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Being sick doesn’t mean I can’t recognise my own pants,” Naruto mumbles into the pillow. He turns his head to face Sasuke. “Then what makes you doing this sort of thing even worse, you like to make me wash whatever you steal, since you’re the kind of guy too lazy to wear your clothes.”
“You must not be that sick if you still have this much energy to complain.”
Naruto sniffs, finger poking Sasuke’s hip. “I’m starting to feel better,” he says, although Sasuke keeps to himself how awful Naruto’s cough still sounds. “That citrus aloe stuff you bought helped a little. You could have warned me it had pulp in it, though.” He scrunches his nose then shudders. “There should be a ban on putting pulp in juice. I don’t know how you can drink it like that.”
Sasuke makes a soft noise, rearranging the blanket over Naruto and pulling it up to his chest.
“What’re you still doing up, anyway?”
“Reading Akutagawa.”
“Oh.” Tightening his hold around him, closing his eyes, Naruto begins to nod off. “You’re still on that? I’d think you read all that guy’s stories by now.”
“Blame Kakashi.” Sasuke grunts, reaching for the book beginning to dig into his thigh. “Giving me the book was his idea of a bribe, but I’m trying to decide if it’s worth putting up with him for another term. It’s bad enough I have to deal with him outside of class as much as I do.”
Naruto smiles, an already soft expression seemingly made softer by his eyes still closed. “...I didn’t know you liked him so much.”
Whether he’s referring to Akutagawa or Kakashi, Sasuke doesn’t ask. Reaching around Naruto, elbow laid over his side, he opens the anthology of short stories. The scrap piece of paper marking his place on page seventy, he moves it to the back of the book and picks up where he left off on Akiyama.
He listens to Naruto breathe, continues to read as the rise and fall of Naruto’s chest begins to slow. In the quiet that settles in the room, halfway through the story, he flips another page. It doesn’t take much longer, however, before the arm around his waist becomes lax and the abrupt sound of loud snoring breaks through the silence.
There’s a low rustle as Naruto’s other hand falls off the seat of the couch, fingers almost but not quite touching the floor.
Looking down, Sasuke lets out a soft snort. Cheek squished against the pillow, mouth ajar and nose tinged red, it’s the same unattractive image of Naruto he left with this morning, the same face a constant image in the back of his mind all day, and he bites at the corner of his lip, turning back to his book when his teeth fail to curb a tiny smile.