[fic] Of Headaches and Annoying Bastards
Of Headaches and Annoying Bastards
Rating: T for language and suggested sexual activity
Summary: Naruto’s in a hurry, but Sasuke is not that willing to let him go yet.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Kishimoto, however, does.
Word Count: 3554
Feedback: All criticism accepted.
Notes: Thanks to
an_icey_flame for bet'ing.
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Shit. My head hurts - positively throbbing with pain. It goes like this: thump, thump, thump and a-thump- thump. It’s not like a heartbeat, though, but more fretful, more disturbing. A heartbeat, as long as it is slow and in motion, is something tranquil.
Actually, it’s as if someone where hammering against my skull continuously, creating these excruciating sensations. Feels like a hangover, only that I haven’t been drinking recently. Actually, to be more precise, I’ve only gotten drunk once and that was memorable enough to make me pledge abstinence for a lifetime, thank you very much. Well, I’ve also made a vow to never spend an evening in the company of drunken men, either - they have that tendency to be unpredictable and dangerously unpleasant. I’ll definitely not be that naïve again.
Not since that embarrassing incident with Kiba under the table; even thinking about it makes me want to retch. Kiba, a make-out session and alcohol definitely do not fit into the same sentence, nor should they be compared to each other - they are an oxymoron in every sense of the word... Ok, as much as I’d like to not relive that moment again, let’s say that that idiot and I were involved in actions that fall under the category of intimate groping and wet kisses. Not the good kind, but the sloppy sort that one normally experiences at the age of twelve. Additionally, that kiss had some pretty unpleasant consequences for me, which I’d rather forget. Really, I don’t want to remember the hell I had to go through just because some people are so goddamn possessive. Especially if said people - let’s reduce it to a person -- starts holding lectures, scolds me ruthlessly, and lets me sleep on the couch for a whole week. I hate that couch. It’s itchy and uncomfortable. My back still hasn’t fully recovered, if I’m utterly honest.
So again, my vow: I’ll definitely never drink nor kiss Kiba ever again, even if I would be granted the position of the Hokage for that. Some things just aren’t worth doing.
Yuck, the idiot’s lips and tongue…the memory still makes me shudder. As if losing my first kiss (and more than that) to Sasuke, the bastard, wasn’t bad enough. No, now, I’ve been kissed by a guy with dog breath. I swear, I’m cursed. Or the Gods seriously hate me. I’ll go for the latter. If the Gods only had an ounce of respect for me, I’d be popular with the girls, rich and no one would beat me on the head constantly.
Ugh. I don’t want to stand up, even though the sun’s up and the birds are twittering and all that crap. I’m tired. The world can be as gay and bright, but I don’t want to stand up. It’s so warm and comfortable here. The birds are twittering again - goddamn annoying. I’m not against birds, but I don’t like to be reminded of my duties either.
Oh come on, get up. Lazybones, no wonder no one takes you seriously. Yes, I’m telling myself off like that, gets me triggered up and all ready to rise. Well, it doesn’t really, but pretending has never hurt anyone. Somehow, fumbling between sleepiness and the nagging feeling of duty, I ever so slowly rise from the bed, wincing when my feet come to contact with the cold, hard floor.
This is my apartment. At least, this messy destruction of disorder resembles it. As far as I know apartments cannot morph into other shapes and dimensions - so this has to be my apartment, after all. Yet, if I think about it, the idea about morphing apartments sounds pretty cool. It would be nice to not have to stare at the same threadbare furniture and sullen atmosphere of this place. However, it’s absolutely disgusting to notice that Sakura’s place is so prim and proper, while mine is such a chaos.
Only I swear that it didn’t look that messy yesterday. It didn’t look like a battleground yesterday. I’m not adamant on cleanliness, but everything has its bounds - its limits, sort of. My clothes are practically all over the place, and I can’t find my pants. Stupid Sasuke for tossing them away just like that; he doesn’t understand that I haven’t got an unending supply of clothes. God, he just tears my clothes like that, sending buttons a-tumbling on the floor as if they were marbles. He’s a spoiled bastard who doesn’t know the value of money.
The place looks look awful and Sasuke’s fast asleep on my bed with the blanket only covering half of his body. His chest is heaving a bit, rising and falling while he breathes in and out. Strangely, he looks relaxed, almost innocently childlike. It must be his face; deprived of its usual scowl and look of disdain, it looks at peace and somewhat happy. Fleetingly, I allow my eyes to wander over his body, appreciating the sight of the pale skin. He’s lean without being slender and- even asleep- his body exudes a certain cat-like agility and strength. However, it is his face that attracts my attention again. He looks so peaceful and halfway happy. I don’t think he ever looks like that when awake. At least, he does his best to hide it, even though I know him too well to not notice.
Idiot, can’t he even cover himself properly, tempting me in so outrageous a manner?
Sasuke’s snoring - not very loud, yet still clearly audible - gets on my nerves; it’s irritating and makes me want to crack someone’s bones. It reminds that he’s free to sleep as wishes to today, even though I’m forced to teach a pack of brats the basics of being a ninja. Yes, I am a teacher. Don’t ask me why; I still haven’t figured it out myself. I doubt that I ever will. Back to Sasuke’s snoring, I wonder if he is doing it on purpose, trying to anger me. He knows how much I hate waking up; maybe he’s not even asleep. This might be another attempt of his to irritate me.
Everything about him is irritating, from the way he smirks to the way he mocks me daily. Sasuke is about as perceptive and emphatic as a block of stone. He just doesn’t seem to understand that a little kindness wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’m not trying to say that he’s cold - not to me, at least - but he still lacks social skills. He might be a genius when it comes to the arts of being a ninja, but he’s utterly dim-witted when it comes to being considerate. One of these days, I’ll end up being a hermit because Sasuke will have scared all my potential friends off.
Now, if I recall correctly, he’s the reason why my head hurts - forcing me to sleep nearly face to face with the wall because the space wasn’t big enough for him. As if it isn’t bad enough that he has probably left some bite marks all over my neck, he’s now making me feel groggy and unfocused.
Now I know why my head hurts. Unfortunately, being the incredibly lively guy he is, Sasuke kept kicking me off the bed the whole night like a ping-bong ball. Only that I landed on the floor. Repeatedly.
“What are you doing there, standing around piteously?” he says, causing me turn around in fright. It’s not as if he is that intimidating or scary, but his dissatisfied and whiny voice just has a shocking effect on me; preparing for another session of arguments and nonsensical debates. Is it because I allowed him to molest me last night?
“Nothing, you bast-when did you wake up?”
It’s a stupid question, but I don’t know what else to ask. He looks disgruntled, angry that I - the total moron - have the guts to wake him up. Yesterday he came back from a mission and that’s why he is in no mood to be woken up easily, unless I have a good reason.
“Right now. Your loud mumbling would have been loud enough to wake up a mummy,” he says in that cuttingly sarcastic and righteous tone of his. Gorgeous darling he is, being friendly with me from the beginning of the day. Not. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with him, reminding myself that a girl like Hinata is holding a torch for me.
It’s amazing that he can remain so indifferent and calm, in spite of having experienced such pleasures the night before. Sasuke can be a pain in the ass at times and his ungratefulness is downright annoying.
He’s about to say something insulting again, but I don’t allow him to say anything, interrupting him with a rough kiss. Momentarily, he remains stiff - he didn’t expect this -- and I feel a teeny bit worried, afraid that my actions were a bit rash, but Sasuke decides to return the kiss. Kisses with him are always a devouringly, wonderfully passionate deal.
Sasuke, contrary to popular belief, is really emotional: he just can’t voice his feelings properly. Must be the trauma that his brother inflicted on him; he still has not fully healed. In all probability, he never will. He’s not the sort of guy who’ll confess directly, but show his sentiments with little gestures and grudging smiles. In fact, if he weren’t such an arrogant prig, I’d say that he’s just a little bit shy.
Yet, the ever so noticeable shudder and the way he holds me tightly against him, says more than a thousand words. Besides, when he’s angry - infuriated, perhaps - he knows no limits and can be rude, brash and can behave downright childishly.
Eyes closed and his face scrunched up in delight, he looks beautiful and I can’t resist licking his earlobe. He whimpers and tightens his hold on my body, allowing me to position myself over his shuddering body. He’s like a drug and I can’t get enough of him. Everything about him is stimulating and makes me crazy with need. His hips are thrashing against mine and his hushed moans are a motivation for me to continue. He might not speak, nor even give me any indication, but I know that Sasuke wants this just as badly.
“Naruto,” he moans in the way only he can - sounding dominant yet submissive at the same time. It is a strange combination: a combination that is as unnerving as it is arousing. Damn, he is addictive and if it weren’t for my blasted job, I’d take him right here and now.
He’s hurting me with that suffocating and strong embrace. I wonder if he’s afraid of letting go. I feel oddly warm and my heart beats just a tad bit faster - he’s got such an effect on me. Sure, it’s only a hug: an insignificant little thing.
Of course, I won’t ever leave his side, even though it’s tempting. As already said, I could be with a girl like Hinata who’d try her best to make me happy. Then I wouldn’t have to put up with all this shit anymore, this uncertainty that assaults me at inopportune moments. When those feelings grasp me, I feel like suffocating, as if a tight noose were about to strangle me. No, I am not morbid because it’s stupid to me. It’s stupid because depression only leads to one thing - utter passivity or uselessness. I can’t be either of these things because people’s lives depend on me. I need to be strong, determined and optimistic, not weak.
Yet, I am scared, to be utterly honest. I’m paranoid, scared that he’ll run off again. With Sasuke everything is uncertain, explosive and jumbled up, chaotic. He’s like the moon, changing his colours every other minute.
“I’d love to continue this, but I really have to go,” I say a bit impatiently. He’s already had enough sex in the past few days, even twice last night. Of course, he wasn’t totally happy about that either because I didn’t allow him to take control at least once. Still, there’s no way I’m going to risk making a fool of myself again -- I am a teacher, after all. Besides, my students shouldn’t necessarily see me limping; it would be a bad influence. At least that’s what Sakura tells me and I know better than to defy her. She’s a great girl, but her temper can be scary at times.
“Stay,” he says, actually it is more like whimpering, but I digress. Sasuke Uchiha would never whimper, after all. He would fry me alive if I ever said that. Yeah, that boy needs his pride like he needs air to breathe.
Sasuke is a stubborn person, only content if he gets his way. It is endearing most of time; one of the quirks one would not expect him to possess. All this time that I’ve been living with him, I have discovered other aspects of his personality. For example, Sasuke is pretty good doing the laundry, but seriously sucks at cooking. That why, despite his various complaints, I am pretty in charge of preparing our meals. Also, I know that he likes my food.
He’s got a penchant for books, too. Not the weird stuff that Kakashi reads, but intricate novels that bore me to death. Really, I don’t understand the appeal of reading a book which consists of words I’ve never heard before. Still, I guess that he understands them and takes real pleasure from reading them, even though he never tells me why.
Unlike me, he likes the rain and often spends hours staring out the window, watching water droplets fall somberly down onto the earth. I leave him alone then, for these moments seem special to him and I could never disrupt that. There just seems to an unspoken agreement between us that keeps me from interfering.
He’s smiling that little smile of his -- he doesn’t do it often, but when he does it’s irresistible -- and I am starting to feel a little uneasy. Damn him, he must have taken manipulation lessons from Kakashi. I swear that Sasuke knows what kind of effect his smile has on me: that’s the reason why he is doing that right now. Idiot, he should be grateful that I’m still too sleepy. Otherwise I’d wipe that stupid smile off his face.
“I’m not giving in this time, bastard,” I say, taking my eyes off him, “I don’t want to be late.”
“Kakashi was always late,” Sasuke simply retorts. He doesn’t realise that I am serious about this. Then again, as I said, he is a selfish idiot. In the absence of missions, Sasuke is always like this: moody and insistent on spending as much time with me as possible. Actually, what I mean is that he’s incredibly ‘jumpy’ and willing to have sex at least twice a day. He wants to do it everywhere and in all sorts of positions with either me or him on top. Well, I guess that is Sasuke’s way of relieving stress and tension. I’d only wish that he wouldn’t be that obsessed with it. Yet, I believe that’s a part of his character that will never fade away. Sasuke needs, breathes, obsession. He’ll always be obsessed on something, whether it be pleasing his father or killing Itachi. Seeing that both are now dead, I’m the only one left to obsess about. A substitute for his perverse enjoyment.
Sometimes I’m curious about what he plans to do with me - I don’t know if it’s beating me in a fight or driving me crazy in bed. Perhaps, it’s both - sex with him doesn’t really differ too much from a battle.
“I’m not Kakashi,” I say, mentally rejoicing that I’m not like my teacher. After all, it’s bad enough that one such individual exists. The world would be a sad, sad place if another insane guy like that existed. Not that Kakashi is that bad, really. He’s a great teacher, but it’s his ways and attitude that just strike me as being somehow disturbing. Anyone who can teach and read porn at the same time has, to say the least, lost his marbles. Iruka is, thankfully, not that… bizarre. Enough of that. I can see that my reflections have made me careless. I feel cold hands touching my temple, rubbing me in places that ache badly.
“What are you doing?” I ask tiredly. He’s so horrendously annoying.
He merely raises an eyebrow. “Giving you a massage…your head hurts, right?”
Damn. Just when I thought that Sasuke couldn’t be any worse, he does that, touches me in a manner that is both sweet and intimate. It’s typical of him to show gentleness when it’s not really required. I want to smack him - I really do. Yet, this feels surprisingly nice and his caress is gentle; his hands feel pleasantly cool and make the ache disappear. He’s got nice hands- especially his fingers are long and tender.
I’m in a hurry, but still I can’t help myself from doing the following. Slowly I reach over to Sasuke and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. So what if the Gods hate me? I’m still glad, because nothing could be better - or worse -, in fact, than being with Sasuke. Yeah, it’s uncertain and frustrating, but it is also exciting and satisfying.
Fuck it. His tongue is entering my mouth and that gentle kiss is getting out of control, growing more passionate with every increasing second. Roughly, he grabs hold of my hair, pulling me closer to him. It’s futile and I don’t resist Sasuke’s advances anymore, allowing him to invade my mouth as much as he pleases to. Without further ado, I fall back into bed and feel his hands tugging at my shirt, trying to tear it apart. Again.
Sighing, I stop Sasuke - earning an irritating look from him - and pull the shirt over my head. Before I even have the chance to say something, he’s kissing me again. This time with even more force than before, making me wonder what the hell’s happened to him. He’s not that desperate usually, unless we’re expecting visitors or he’s in a bad mood. I guess that the mission was tougher than I’d thought, or Sasuke wouldn’t behave like this. I don’t have much time to reflect though, for he’s pushing his tongue demandingly against mine and his hands are all over my body. Teasing, grabbing and touching; sending chills crawling down my spine like little blocks of ice. He’s good at this - good at making me lose my breath and question my power. It’s not long and I’m moaning slightly, allowing him to take control.
“Idiot, don’t always be that troublesome,”
For a second, I wonder if I’m caught in some crazy alternate universe because Sasuke voice sounds too much like Nara’s. Maybe he’s been spending too much time around him; I don’t know and don’t really care. It's not that important, really.
He’s aggressive, reminding me that I’ve got a horny Uchiha on top of me.
“It’s… not… me who is… troublesome … but you,” I manage to say, as he straddles me, licking mercilessly down my neck, reaching my nipples. He continues and I know that I can’t stop him anymore. Not now, not when his hands are playing with the buttons on my pants; not when he’s looking like that me, with his eyes wickedly slanted, promising mischief. Stupid manipulating bastard; he knows exactly what he is doing and won’t back down, not until I have given in.
Ok, it seems as if he’s won. It looks like the brats will have to wait. Damn it all, I want him, too. Although, Sasuke saying that I’m troublesome is a bit unflattering, considering that he’s the one who makes things complicated. I mean, he could have just waited until I came back home.
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We’re sweat-soaked and he’s holding me tightly, still breathing heavily. Then it hits me, he’s fallen asleep. Just like that. As if he’d have the right to do it, leaving me in such a compromising situation. Trying to struggle free from his embrace, I find myself trapped between his long arms and legs, making me feel like some kind of prized trophy. I swear that if I had known that he’d be like this when we were children, I would never have tried to attract his attention.
Once more, I swear and find myself staring at the ceiling in agony. There’s no way I can leave the apartment now, not with him clinging to me like that. Yet I remember my students and struggle a bit more. Finally, after some time, he let’s go and rolls onto his back, allowing me to break free. I look at his face again and notice that he’s smiling, grinning this time. He’s satisfied, as shown by that smug grin on his sleeping face. Idiot. As a means of revenge, I should really kick him in the ass, but I can’t, even though he’s made me late for my lesson. ‘Sides, he looks so damn happy that making him angry again would be a crying shame.
Oh well, it can’t be helped. Sighing, I rise from the bed and pick up my scattered clothes; I’ll have to make the best of it. I’ll just say that I came across a black cat on my way. Maybe I am a bit like Kakashi, after all.
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Rating: T for language and suggested sexual activity
Summary: Naruto’s in a hurry, but Sasuke is not that willing to let him go yet.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Kishimoto, however, does.
Word Count: 3554
Feedback: All criticism accepted.
Notes: Thanks to
an_icey_flame for bet'ing.
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Shit. My head hurts - positively throbbing with pain. It goes like this: thump, thump, thump and a-thump- thump. It’s not like a heartbeat, though, but more fretful, more disturbing. A heartbeat, as long as it is slow and in motion, is something tranquil.
Actually, it’s as if someone where hammering against my skull continuously, creating these excruciating sensations. Feels like a hangover, only that I haven’t been drinking recently. Actually, to be more precise, I’ve only gotten drunk once and that was memorable enough to make me pledge abstinence for a lifetime, thank you very much. Well, I’ve also made a vow to never spend an evening in the company of drunken men, either - they have that tendency to be unpredictable and dangerously unpleasant. I’ll definitely not be that naïve again.
Not since that embarrassing incident with Kiba under the table; even thinking about it makes me want to retch. Kiba, a make-out session and alcohol definitely do not fit into the same sentence, nor should they be compared to each other - they are an oxymoron in every sense of the word... Ok, as much as I’d like to not relive that moment again, let’s say that that idiot and I were involved in actions that fall under the category of intimate groping and wet kisses. Not the good kind, but the sloppy sort that one normally experiences at the age of twelve. Additionally, that kiss had some pretty unpleasant consequences for me, which I’d rather forget. Really, I don’t want to remember the hell I had to go through just because some people are so goddamn possessive. Especially if said people - let’s reduce it to a person -- starts holding lectures, scolds me ruthlessly, and lets me sleep on the couch for a whole week. I hate that couch. It’s itchy and uncomfortable. My back still hasn’t fully recovered, if I’m utterly honest.
So again, my vow: I’ll definitely never drink nor kiss Kiba ever again, even if I would be granted the position of the Hokage for that. Some things just aren’t worth doing.
Yuck, the idiot’s lips and tongue…the memory still makes me shudder. As if losing my first kiss (and more than that) to Sasuke, the bastard, wasn’t bad enough. No, now, I’ve been kissed by a guy with dog breath. I swear, I’m cursed. Or the Gods seriously hate me. I’ll go for the latter. If the Gods only had an ounce of respect for me, I’d be popular with the girls, rich and no one would beat me on the head constantly.
Ugh. I don’t want to stand up, even though the sun’s up and the birds are twittering and all that crap. I’m tired. The world can be as gay and bright, but I don’t want to stand up. It’s so warm and comfortable here. The birds are twittering again - goddamn annoying. I’m not against birds, but I don’t like to be reminded of my duties either.
Oh come on, get up. Lazybones, no wonder no one takes you seriously. Yes, I’m telling myself off like that, gets me triggered up and all ready to rise. Well, it doesn’t really, but pretending has never hurt anyone. Somehow, fumbling between sleepiness and the nagging feeling of duty, I ever so slowly rise from the bed, wincing when my feet come to contact with the cold, hard floor.
This is my apartment. At least, this messy destruction of disorder resembles it. As far as I know apartments cannot morph into other shapes and dimensions - so this has to be my apartment, after all. Yet, if I think about it, the idea about morphing apartments sounds pretty cool. It would be nice to not have to stare at the same threadbare furniture and sullen atmosphere of this place. However, it’s absolutely disgusting to notice that Sakura’s place is so prim and proper, while mine is such a chaos.
Only I swear that it didn’t look that messy yesterday. It didn’t look like a battleground yesterday. I’m not adamant on cleanliness, but everything has its bounds - its limits, sort of. My clothes are practically all over the place, and I can’t find my pants. Stupid Sasuke for tossing them away just like that; he doesn’t understand that I haven’t got an unending supply of clothes. God, he just tears my clothes like that, sending buttons a-tumbling on the floor as if they were marbles. He’s a spoiled bastard who doesn’t know the value of money.
The place looks look awful and Sasuke’s fast asleep on my bed with the blanket only covering half of his body. His chest is heaving a bit, rising and falling while he breathes in and out. Strangely, he looks relaxed, almost innocently childlike. It must be his face; deprived of its usual scowl and look of disdain, it looks at peace and somewhat happy. Fleetingly, I allow my eyes to wander over his body, appreciating the sight of the pale skin. He’s lean without being slender and- even asleep- his body exudes a certain cat-like agility and strength. However, it is his face that attracts my attention again. He looks so peaceful and halfway happy. I don’t think he ever looks like that when awake. At least, he does his best to hide it, even though I know him too well to not notice.
Idiot, can’t he even cover himself properly, tempting me in so outrageous a manner?
Sasuke’s snoring - not very loud, yet still clearly audible - gets on my nerves; it’s irritating and makes me want to crack someone’s bones. It reminds that he’s free to sleep as wishes to today, even though I’m forced to teach a pack of brats the basics of being a ninja. Yes, I am a teacher. Don’t ask me why; I still haven’t figured it out myself. I doubt that I ever will. Back to Sasuke’s snoring, I wonder if he is doing it on purpose, trying to anger me. He knows how much I hate waking up; maybe he’s not even asleep. This might be another attempt of his to irritate me.
Everything about him is irritating, from the way he smirks to the way he mocks me daily. Sasuke is about as perceptive and emphatic as a block of stone. He just doesn’t seem to understand that a little kindness wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’m not trying to say that he’s cold - not to me, at least - but he still lacks social skills. He might be a genius when it comes to the arts of being a ninja, but he’s utterly dim-witted when it comes to being considerate. One of these days, I’ll end up being a hermit because Sasuke will have scared all my potential friends off.
Now, if I recall correctly, he’s the reason why my head hurts - forcing me to sleep nearly face to face with the wall because the space wasn’t big enough for him. As if it isn’t bad enough that he has probably left some bite marks all over my neck, he’s now making me feel groggy and unfocused.
Now I know why my head hurts. Unfortunately, being the incredibly lively guy he is, Sasuke kept kicking me off the bed the whole night like a ping-bong ball. Only that I landed on the floor. Repeatedly.
“What are you doing there, standing around piteously?” he says, causing me turn around in fright. It’s not as if he is that intimidating or scary, but his dissatisfied and whiny voice just has a shocking effect on me; preparing for another session of arguments and nonsensical debates. Is it because I allowed him to molest me last night?
“Nothing, you bast-when did you wake up?”
It’s a stupid question, but I don’t know what else to ask. He looks disgruntled, angry that I - the total moron - have the guts to wake him up. Yesterday he came back from a mission and that’s why he is in no mood to be woken up easily, unless I have a good reason.
“Right now. Your loud mumbling would have been loud enough to wake up a mummy,” he says in that cuttingly sarcastic and righteous tone of his. Gorgeous darling he is, being friendly with me from the beginning of the day. Not. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with him, reminding myself that a girl like Hinata is holding a torch for me.
It’s amazing that he can remain so indifferent and calm, in spite of having experienced such pleasures the night before. Sasuke can be a pain in the ass at times and his ungratefulness is downright annoying.
He’s about to say something insulting again, but I don’t allow him to say anything, interrupting him with a rough kiss. Momentarily, he remains stiff - he didn’t expect this -- and I feel a teeny bit worried, afraid that my actions were a bit rash, but Sasuke decides to return the kiss. Kisses with him are always a devouringly, wonderfully passionate deal.
Sasuke, contrary to popular belief, is really emotional: he just can’t voice his feelings properly. Must be the trauma that his brother inflicted on him; he still has not fully healed. In all probability, he never will. He’s not the sort of guy who’ll confess directly, but show his sentiments with little gestures and grudging smiles. In fact, if he weren’t such an arrogant prig, I’d say that he’s just a little bit shy.
Yet, the ever so noticeable shudder and the way he holds me tightly against him, says more than a thousand words. Besides, when he’s angry - infuriated, perhaps - he knows no limits and can be rude, brash and can behave downright childishly.
Eyes closed and his face scrunched up in delight, he looks beautiful and I can’t resist licking his earlobe. He whimpers and tightens his hold on my body, allowing me to position myself over his shuddering body. He’s like a drug and I can’t get enough of him. Everything about him is stimulating and makes me crazy with need. His hips are thrashing against mine and his hushed moans are a motivation for me to continue. He might not speak, nor even give me any indication, but I know that Sasuke wants this just as badly.
“Naruto,” he moans in the way only he can - sounding dominant yet submissive at the same time. It is a strange combination: a combination that is as unnerving as it is arousing. Damn, he is addictive and if it weren’t for my blasted job, I’d take him right here and now.
He’s hurting me with that suffocating and strong embrace. I wonder if he’s afraid of letting go. I feel oddly warm and my heart beats just a tad bit faster - he’s got such an effect on me. Sure, it’s only a hug: an insignificant little thing.
Of course, I won’t ever leave his side, even though it’s tempting. As already said, I could be with a girl like Hinata who’d try her best to make me happy. Then I wouldn’t have to put up with all this shit anymore, this uncertainty that assaults me at inopportune moments. When those feelings grasp me, I feel like suffocating, as if a tight noose were about to strangle me. No, I am not morbid because it’s stupid to me. It’s stupid because depression only leads to one thing - utter passivity or uselessness. I can’t be either of these things because people’s lives depend on me. I need to be strong, determined and optimistic, not weak.
Yet, I am scared, to be utterly honest. I’m paranoid, scared that he’ll run off again. With Sasuke everything is uncertain, explosive and jumbled up, chaotic. He’s like the moon, changing his colours every other minute.
“I’d love to continue this, but I really have to go,” I say a bit impatiently. He’s already had enough sex in the past few days, even twice last night. Of course, he wasn’t totally happy about that either because I didn’t allow him to take control at least once. Still, there’s no way I’m going to risk making a fool of myself again -- I am a teacher, after all. Besides, my students shouldn’t necessarily see me limping; it would be a bad influence. At least that’s what Sakura tells me and I know better than to defy her. She’s a great girl, but her temper can be scary at times.
“Stay,” he says, actually it is more like whimpering, but I digress. Sasuke Uchiha would never whimper, after all. He would fry me alive if I ever said that. Yeah, that boy needs his pride like he needs air to breathe.
Sasuke is a stubborn person, only content if he gets his way. It is endearing most of time; one of the quirks one would not expect him to possess. All this time that I’ve been living with him, I have discovered other aspects of his personality. For example, Sasuke is pretty good doing the laundry, but seriously sucks at cooking. That why, despite his various complaints, I am pretty in charge of preparing our meals. Also, I know that he likes my food.
He’s got a penchant for books, too. Not the weird stuff that Kakashi reads, but intricate novels that bore me to death. Really, I don’t understand the appeal of reading a book which consists of words I’ve never heard before. Still, I guess that he understands them and takes real pleasure from reading them, even though he never tells me why.
Unlike me, he likes the rain and often spends hours staring out the window, watching water droplets fall somberly down onto the earth. I leave him alone then, for these moments seem special to him and I could never disrupt that. There just seems to an unspoken agreement between us that keeps me from interfering.
He’s smiling that little smile of his -- he doesn’t do it often, but when he does it’s irresistible -- and I am starting to feel a little uneasy. Damn him, he must have taken manipulation lessons from Kakashi. I swear that Sasuke knows what kind of effect his smile has on me: that’s the reason why he is doing that right now. Idiot, he should be grateful that I’m still too sleepy. Otherwise I’d wipe that stupid smile off his face.
“I’m not giving in this time, bastard,” I say, taking my eyes off him, “I don’t want to be late.”
“Kakashi was always late,” Sasuke simply retorts. He doesn’t realise that I am serious about this. Then again, as I said, he is a selfish idiot. In the absence of missions, Sasuke is always like this: moody and insistent on spending as much time with me as possible. Actually, what I mean is that he’s incredibly ‘jumpy’ and willing to have sex at least twice a day. He wants to do it everywhere and in all sorts of positions with either me or him on top. Well, I guess that is Sasuke’s way of relieving stress and tension. I’d only wish that he wouldn’t be that obsessed with it. Yet, I believe that’s a part of his character that will never fade away. Sasuke needs, breathes, obsession. He’ll always be obsessed on something, whether it be pleasing his father or killing Itachi. Seeing that both are now dead, I’m the only one left to obsess about. A substitute for his perverse enjoyment.
Sometimes I’m curious about what he plans to do with me - I don’t know if it’s beating me in a fight or driving me crazy in bed. Perhaps, it’s both - sex with him doesn’t really differ too much from a battle.
“I’m not Kakashi,” I say, mentally rejoicing that I’m not like my teacher. After all, it’s bad enough that one such individual exists. The world would be a sad, sad place if another insane guy like that existed. Not that Kakashi is that bad, really. He’s a great teacher, but it’s his ways and attitude that just strike me as being somehow disturbing. Anyone who can teach and read porn at the same time has, to say the least, lost his marbles. Iruka is, thankfully, not that… bizarre. Enough of that. I can see that my reflections have made me careless. I feel cold hands touching my temple, rubbing me in places that ache badly.
“What are you doing?” I ask tiredly. He’s so horrendously annoying.
He merely raises an eyebrow. “Giving you a massage…your head hurts, right?”
Damn. Just when I thought that Sasuke couldn’t be any worse, he does that, touches me in a manner that is both sweet and intimate. It’s typical of him to show gentleness when it’s not really required. I want to smack him - I really do. Yet, this feels surprisingly nice and his caress is gentle; his hands feel pleasantly cool and make the ache disappear. He’s got nice hands- especially his fingers are long and tender.
I’m in a hurry, but still I can’t help myself from doing the following. Slowly I reach over to Sasuke and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. So what if the Gods hate me? I’m still glad, because nothing could be better - or worse -, in fact, than being with Sasuke. Yeah, it’s uncertain and frustrating, but it is also exciting and satisfying.
Fuck it. His tongue is entering my mouth and that gentle kiss is getting out of control, growing more passionate with every increasing second. Roughly, he grabs hold of my hair, pulling me closer to him. It’s futile and I don’t resist Sasuke’s advances anymore, allowing him to invade my mouth as much as he pleases to. Without further ado, I fall back into bed and feel his hands tugging at my shirt, trying to tear it apart. Again.
Sighing, I stop Sasuke - earning an irritating look from him - and pull the shirt over my head. Before I even have the chance to say something, he’s kissing me again. This time with even more force than before, making me wonder what the hell’s happened to him. He’s not that desperate usually, unless we’re expecting visitors or he’s in a bad mood. I guess that the mission was tougher than I’d thought, or Sasuke wouldn’t behave like this. I don’t have much time to reflect though, for he’s pushing his tongue demandingly against mine and his hands are all over my body. Teasing, grabbing and touching; sending chills crawling down my spine like little blocks of ice. He’s good at this - good at making me lose my breath and question my power. It’s not long and I’m moaning slightly, allowing him to take control.
“Idiot, don’t always be that troublesome,”
For a second, I wonder if I’m caught in some crazy alternate universe because Sasuke voice sounds too much like Nara’s. Maybe he’s been spending too much time around him; I don’t know and don’t really care. It's not that important, really.
He’s aggressive, reminding me that I’ve got a horny Uchiha on top of me.
“It’s… not… me who is… troublesome … but you,” I manage to say, as he straddles me, licking mercilessly down my neck, reaching my nipples. He continues and I know that I can’t stop him anymore. Not now, not when his hands are playing with the buttons on my pants; not when he’s looking like that me, with his eyes wickedly slanted, promising mischief. Stupid manipulating bastard; he knows exactly what he is doing and won’t back down, not until I have given in.
Ok, it seems as if he’s won. It looks like the brats will have to wait. Damn it all, I want him, too. Although, Sasuke saying that I’m troublesome is a bit unflattering, considering that he’s the one who makes things complicated. I mean, he could have just waited until I came back home.
---------------
We’re sweat-soaked and he’s holding me tightly, still breathing heavily. Then it hits me, he’s fallen asleep. Just like that. As if he’d have the right to do it, leaving me in such a compromising situation. Trying to struggle free from his embrace, I find myself trapped between his long arms and legs, making me feel like some kind of prized trophy. I swear that if I had known that he’d be like this when we were children, I would never have tried to attract his attention.
Once more, I swear and find myself staring at the ceiling in agony. There’s no way I can leave the apartment now, not with him clinging to me like that. Yet I remember my students and struggle a bit more. Finally, after some time, he let’s go and rolls onto his back, allowing me to break free. I look at his face again and notice that he’s smiling, grinning this time. He’s satisfied, as shown by that smug grin on his sleeping face. Idiot. As a means of revenge, I should really kick him in the ass, but I can’t, even though he’s made me late for my lesson. ‘Sides, he looks so damn happy that making him angry again would be a crying shame.
Oh well, it can’t be helped. Sighing, I rise from the bed and pick up my scattered clothes; I’ll have to make the best of it. I’ll just say that I came across a black cat on my way. Maybe I am a bit like Kakashi, after all.
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