Naruto :: I'll Carry You :: T+ :: Sasuke/Sakura
Title: I'll Carry You
Fandom: Naruto
Pairings: Sasuke/Sakura
Rating: T+ (some possible NSFW elements)
Genre: Romance, drama, a bit of angst
Word count: 1,174
Spoilers: None
Prompt: This fanart
Summary: Sometimes, she understands what he needs even better than he does. SasuSaku.
Sakura stopped the water at about halfway, abruptly dropping the bathroom into a silence that felt thick, almost heavy after the roar of the faucet. Ignoring it, she pushed her pile of clothes across the tile with her foot, clearing the floor around the tub, and then held her robe closed with a hand as she headed back into the bedroom.
Sasuke was where she’d left him. Seated on the futon by the window, he stared through the glass, seemingly indifferent to her return. Once within reach, Sakura touched his arm - damp, sticky with cooled sweat and old blood - and instantly his eyes dropped; it was another several seconds before he turned to her, his distracted gaze wandering somewhere around her middle. She just took his hands in hers, allowing the front of her robe to slip open, and held them wordlessly, patiently. When a long moment passed without response, she put a little of her weight into tugging him forward, and then a little more until he finally stood. Offering him an affectionate smile, she pulled him gently along with her, leading as he followed.
Back in the bathroom, Sakura’s movements turned methodical while remaining gentle, as though she were dealing with a rather well behaved child. She untied his shimenawa, removed his waist cover, and slowly unzipped his shirt before sliding it from his shoulders - all while Sasuke stood there and let her, appearing lost in absent thought. She carefully and neatly folded each article after removing it, knowing he would normally do so himself despite the rips and tears and dark stains, and set each one on the counter before moving to the next.
She took his arm guards off one at a time, and then paused to open her robe further and shrug it back, letting it fall to the floor. Sasuke didn’t react, but when she reached for him again, his hands suddenly moved to her sides and rested on her hips. Sakura waited; after a moment more he leaned closer, his breath hot against the top of her shoulder, and she closed the rest of the distance for him in an embrace that he slowly, partially returned, his palms light on the small of her back. There was really no want in his touch beyond what simple contact could give, so she gave him as much as she could, rubbing his back and shoulders, kissing his chest; unfazed by the smell of death that lingered on his skin and overlooking the foreign blood that clung to her in places when she eventually drew back.
Still close, still in his arms, Sakura unbuckled his pants. Her thumbs dipped beneath the band, briefly riding his evident hipbones, and then hooked over the edge and began to drag both his pants and boxers down in one motion. That finally got his attention: Sasuke caught her arms, but as she looked up, he only dislodged her hands to continue the process himself.
As relieving as that spark of independent life was, it seemed to be the last he had to show. Sakura again took the role of leader, guiding him over and into the bath, nudging his knees apart so that she could sit between them while her legs found position around his sides. She began with his chest: wetting her hands, she massaged from his stomach up to his neck and then repeated, tracing what grooves of muscle she missed the first time, and then repeated again, silent all the while. Sasuke watched her face, but it was only partly attentive and his gaze soon wandered. She moved on to his arms, where she held his hand against her chest as she rinsed between his wrist and shoulder. With tender movements she washed his face, wet his hair; the water was no longer clear by the time she moved behind him, but he was cleaned of the black and crimson blemishes, and the lesser scrapes and nicks she’d passed over before were taken care of. Now she just rubbed his back, occasionally kissing here or there, and let the silence continue except for the soft drizzle and lapping of water when she moved.
After a while, Sakura reached around his sides in another tight embrace, holding him to her and sealing their wet skins. A little more patience and then she slowly leaned backwards, biting her lip when her back met cool porcelain, and reclined along the slope of the tub’s end with Sasuke following, coming to rest against her. She kissed his hair and then propped her cheek against it; her knees broke the surface as she wrapped her legs around his to get comfortable, positioning herself in as much of a protective stance as she could manage in the small space. In light, affectionate touches, she traced her hands over his front, his arms, at times with both palms in inviting caresses and at others with only her fingertips. Now she finally spoke, low murmurings that brushed her lips against his ear and for a time received no visible reaction.
As she ran a hand again over his wrist to link their fingers, she was surprised to feel Sasuke squeeze back. The pressure was gentle, but firm enough that she understood and left her hand on his. A minute later he lifted it and pressed her knuckles against his mouth, not really in a kiss as much as it was more of that simple contact; then he lowered them to his collarbone, smoothly moving his thumb over hers as he continued to stare at the ceiling. Sakura smiled a small smile, kissing his temple.
This ritual appeared to accomplish what it was meant to do. When they climbed out some time later, there was a self-awareness in Sasuke’s movements, a consciousness in his expression, that had been missing prior.
As if it were all normal, all in a day’s work, Sakura began to tie her damp hair back after swiftly patting herself dry. When Sasuke came up behind her, she smiled at his reflection, and then hesitated and watched as he reached up to softly grasp her wrists. He eased her hands down and away, causing her hair to tumble down around her neck again, where he half-buried his face in it as he pressed lightly up against her. Still wet. Still warm. Still unwilling to lose her company just yet.
Turning, she touched his shoulders and made her way up to his face, which she held in her hands as she read the look in his tired eyes. He held her gaze and she was the first to look away, but it was in a downward glance before she leaned up and kissed him, slow and deep and tempting - and urging a response this time, because he was quickly kissing her back with a hidden fervor that made her smile grow.
Sasuke stared when she suddenly broke away - but Sakura caught the top of the towel around his waist and pulled him after her, leading one more time.
Fandom: Naruto
Pairings: Sasuke/Sakura
Rating: T+ (some possible NSFW elements)
Genre: Romance, drama, a bit of angst
Word count: 1,174
Spoilers: None
Prompt: This fanart
Summary: Sometimes, she understands what he needs even better than he does. SasuSaku.
Sakura stopped the water at about halfway, abruptly dropping the bathroom into a silence that felt thick, almost heavy after the roar of the faucet. Ignoring it, she pushed her pile of clothes across the tile with her foot, clearing the floor around the tub, and then held her robe closed with a hand as she headed back into the bedroom.
Sasuke was where she’d left him. Seated on the futon by the window, he stared through the glass, seemingly indifferent to her return. Once within reach, Sakura touched his arm - damp, sticky with cooled sweat and old blood - and instantly his eyes dropped; it was another several seconds before he turned to her, his distracted gaze wandering somewhere around her middle. She just took his hands in hers, allowing the front of her robe to slip open, and held them wordlessly, patiently. When a long moment passed without response, she put a little of her weight into tugging him forward, and then a little more until he finally stood. Offering him an affectionate smile, she pulled him gently along with her, leading as he followed.
Back in the bathroom, Sakura’s movements turned methodical while remaining gentle, as though she were dealing with a rather well behaved child. She untied his shimenawa, removed his waist cover, and slowly unzipped his shirt before sliding it from his shoulders - all while Sasuke stood there and let her, appearing lost in absent thought. She carefully and neatly folded each article after removing it, knowing he would normally do so himself despite the rips and tears and dark stains, and set each one on the counter before moving to the next.
She took his arm guards off one at a time, and then paused to open her robe further and shrug it back, letting it fall to the floor. Sasuke didn’t react, but when she reached for him again, his hands suddenly moved to her sides and rested on her hips. Sakura waited; after a moment more he leaned closer, his breath hot against the top of her shoulder, and she closed the rest of the distance for him in an embrace that he slowly, partially returned, his palms light on the small of her back. There was really no want in his touch beyond what simple contact could give, so she gave him as much as she could, rubbing his back and shoulders, kissing his chest; unfazed by the smell of death that lingered on his skin and overlooking the foreign blood that clung to her in places when she eventually drew back.
Still close, still in his arms, Sakura unbuckled his pants. Her thumbs dipped beneath the band, briefly riding his evident hipbones, and then hooked over the edge and began to drag both his pants and boxers down in one motion. That finally got his attention: Sasuke caught her arms, but as she looked up, he only dislodged her hands to continue the process himself.
As relieving as that spark of independent life was, it seemed to be the last he had to show. Sakura again took the role of leader, guiding him over and into the bath, nudging his knees apart so that she could sit between them while her legs found position around his sides. She began with his chest: wetting her hands, she massaged from his stomach up to his neck and then repeated, tracing what grooves of muscle she missed the first time, and then repeated again, silent all the while. Sasuke watched her face, but it was only partly attentive and his gaze soon wandered. She moved on to his arms, where she held his hand against her chest as she rinsed between his wrist and shoulder. With tender movements she washed his face, wet his hair; the water was no longer clear by the time she moved behind him, but he was cleaned of the black and crimson blemishes, and the lesser scrapes and nicks she’d passed over before were taken care of. Now she just rubbed his back, occasionally kissing here or there, and let the silence continue except for the soft drizzle and lapping of water when she moved.
After a while, Sakura reached around his sides in another tight embrace, holding him to her and sealing their wet skins. A little more patience and then she slowly leaned backwards, biting her lip when her back met cool porcelain, and reclined along the slope of the tub’s end with Sasuke following, coming to rest against her. She kissed his hair and then propped her cheek against it; her knees broke the surface as she wrapped her legs around his to get comfortable, positioning herself in as much of a protective stance as she could manage in the small space. In light, affectionate touches, she traced her hands over his front, his arms, at times with both palms in inviting caresses and at others with only her fingertips. Now she finally spoke, low murmurings that brushed her lips against his ear and for a time received no visible reaction.
As she ran a hand again over his wrist to link their fingers, she was surprised to feel Sasuke squeeze back. The pressure was gentle, but firm enough that she understood and left her hand on his. A minute later he lifted it and pressed her knuckles against his mouth, not really in a kiss as much as it was more of that simple contact; then he lowered them to his collarbone, smoothly moving his thumb over hers as he continued to stare at the ceiling. Sakura smiled a small smile, kissing his temple.
This ritual appeared to accomplish what it was meant to do. When they climbed out some time later, there was a self-awareness in Sasuke’s movements, a consciousness in his expression, that had been missing prior.
As if it were all normal, all in a day’s work, Sakura began to tie her damp hair back after swiftly patting herself dry. When Sasuke came up behind her, she smiled at his reflection, and then hesitated and watched as he reached up to softly grasp her wrists. He eased her hands down and away, causing her hair to tumble down around her neck again, where he half-buried his face in it as he pressed lightly up against her. Still wet. Still warm. Still unwilling to lose her company just yet.
Turning, she touched his shoulders and made her way up to his face, which she held in her hands as she read the look in his tired eyes. He held her gaze and she was the first to look away, but it was in a downward glance before she leaned up and kissed him, slow and deep and tempting - and urging a response this time, because he was quickly kissing her back with a hidden fervor that made her smile grow.
Sasuke stared when she suddenly broke away - but Sakura caught the top of the towel around his waist and pulled him after her, leading one more time.