[Naruto] The Little Things - Chapter 13
The Little Things
By Starapple/Martinique
Rating: R
Pairings: Main: SasuNaru, NaruSasu, GaaNaru, NaruGaa, LeeSaku. One-sided HinaNaru.
Warning: Lemon scene. Also some het-talk.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
Chapter 13 - great things happen
He heard the door open, had heard the tread of feet in the hallway. He couldn’t sleep, not when he had been waiting for him to come. Naruto heard Gaara let himself into his flat, close the door behind him and advance on the bedroom. He waited for Gaara to emerge in his room.
“Naruto.” He stood in the doorway for endless seconds. Naruto could make him out by the slight change in darkness; it appeared to curve inwards on Gaara.
“Come in already.” Is all he replied with though. For some reason he doesn’t know how to deal with Gaara, again. Even though he made what they had more real by telling Sasuke - as if he didn’t know, hadn’t guessed - but really all that mattered is what they had.
He was beginning to draw a blank on what they had. They shared the same problem, but in all respects even those manifested themselves so differently that in the end they weren’t sharing anything at all but a condition.
How could that be a foundation for a relationship? One where there were clear boundaries between what he could and couldn’t know, something that burned all the more because he knew something was off.
They’d been let in too easily.
And Gaara wasn’t telling him what it was, and he wasn’t sure if he even knew. Or guessed. And if he did know - why hadn’t he said? If the roles were reversed, he would have said something. He was sure of it.
“A lot of paperwork.” Gaara said, the closest he came to an apology. His tone didn’t change, and for all purposes he may well have been a statue, slowly ground down by the passing of time. He watched him advance slowly, rolling towards him on the bed. His features were sand-drawn, hard but soft. The rings around his eyes had begun to darken again, and Naruto knew he’d be awake most of the night, listening for the hush of sand across the wooden floor.
“I know.” Gaara’s form settled on the bed, muscles visibly easing as he relaxed. Gaara looked down on him, and Naruto wasn’t sure he liked what he could see in the midnight darkness, a vague sense of softening around the eyes.
It unsettled him.
Gaara turned his back on him, undressing slowly.
It had been like this ever since they had returned two weeks ago. Walking around each other, moving side by side but not quite touching.
It didn’t stop Gaara from slipping into bed with him, didn’t stop Gaara from touching him, hungrily. And he let him, because he wanted to, because this is the way it worked between them. Touching, kissing hungrily, legs tangling, skin stretching taut under rough caresses.
It was so very different from the first time.
Naruto thought that somehow, perhaps, trust would develop - but the word home didn’t sound the same on Gaara’s lips anymore, sounded more like war and the grate of iron gates.
In the end, he lay awake, listening, listening for the slightest sound.
He should have been livid, furious, a momentum of emotion rolling downwards to crush. Instead, just calm, a peaceful acceptance of what Gaara told him. That he was leaving for earth country, with his siblings to dissolve secure investments in the name of Sand Country. If they could make contact.
He was surprised he had not been asked to accompany them, just in case there was another threat of demons. He knew he was merely fooling himself, they had finally eliminated the demon threat, and the war was over, the occupation begun. He wasn’t sure if there was anything left for him to do, in the past two weeks he hadn’t taken on a job. He was still trying to figure everything out.
And now Gaara would be leaving him for two weeks. He didn’t know what to feel, it was far more punctuated by the fact that it didn’t bother him. They were drifting apart, or at least he was moving away from him, and the entire thing stank of Sasuke and his interference.
He didn’t know how it happened.
They said goodbye that morning, Gaara at the door looking back, an indescribable look in his face, Naruto near the kitchen, barely mustering a half-hearted reply.
He left.
Sasuke perches on the couch at his new estate, unsure whether to go ahead and call Naruto or not. He doesn’t know why he should feel so unsure about it, after all, Naruto had insisted that they spar at one point - and now that they were back he felt they were settled enough to do so. He didn’t like to admit to himself that he was simply using it as an excuse to see him again, even though they had parted on bad terms. It was partially his fault for pushing and pulling at Naruto’s patience.
A sad attempt at being acknowledged, more importantly as an equal.
He was still the reason, he knew this because the house was empty of feeling. It couldn’t hold him, because there were no memories. Sasuke looked at the phone, the smooth black plastic, which could change so much in so little time.
He knew Gaara wasn’t there, and he almost felt as if he was being far too deliberate in going after Naruto. After all, Naruto knew what he wanted, that he wanted him, because he was the reason for his continued existence.
He’d be stupid not to take advantage. Mind made up, he picks up the phone and slowly begins to dial Naruto’s number.
Its ten hundred hours on the first of October.
Two figures stand opposite each other, in stark relief against the slanted sun. They are poised in their stances, ones that they haven’t really had an opportunity to admire for all of those years.
In each other they see the five years of experience, the subtle shifts that maximise offence and defence. Between them are the whispers of the ages, a silent humming underpins the slight tension of the muscles, tuning to the gentle rhythm of nature.
A signal, known only to them catapults them together, a swift dance full of intent holding short at death. The thud of arms and legs on softer parts, or blocked, ring out in the stillness of the field. The twist of bodies to avoid, spinning backwards, flipping forwards to attack once more.
In Sasuke the Sharingan spins wildly, erratic as it seeks to cope with the unbelievably fast movements of Naruto whose tactics twist and turn as he executes them, feinting, double-feinting.
Naruto’s tails flicker behind him, and in his heart he is soaring, watching in delight as they spar, moving faster, everything faster until he no longer thinks, merely moves in the void they have created. Adrift in the pace of the moment.
It comes to an end.
Naruto delivers a resounding blow to Sasuke’s stomach, even as Sasuke attempts to twist backwards, to block the blow with his arm, but he is too late, his eyes see but his body cannot react - he is thrown twenty metres, aching to catch his breath, checking limbs to feel nothing broken.
The fight is over, and Naruto goes over to Sasuke, holding out a hand, which he readily takes. His hand is warm. And it almost feels like yesterday, but they are older. And it almost feels like tomorrow, but nothing is certain.
“Well done.” Sasuke says, slowing his heart beat, controlling his breathing. He isn’t out of shape; he’s found it easier to keep up than he thought he would.
“Thanks. You did really well.” Naruto replies, it is the truth, but Sasuke knows Naruto hasn’t even started to work, he’s seen him against demons; he has seen him naked due to loss of control. Yet the compliment still stands. “Ah, damn, we should have agreed a forfeit.” Naruto laughs, it pours out of his mouth throatily.
“Oh? What would that have been?” For some reason, Sasuke finds himself holding his breath, waiting. Naruto looks at him, a deliberate sound in his eyes, guarded but Sasuke sees it. Naruto shrugs, a roll of the shoulders.
“The usual.”
“Which is?” Sasuke immediately presses. It’s clearer now, there’s a fire behind his eyes, one that burns him with its intensity. Sasuke can see Naruto’s mind works as, like his body did before, it twists away from the question.
Naruto pretends to think.
“Telling me why you came back.”
Sasuke looks at the ground, it’s a disabling question he’s unwilling to answer. Not yet.
He’d had time to think everything over, and he thought it had finally come clear to him today. Left unsure on the edge of the sparring a mere week six days ago, Naruto found himself closer to the answers that had plagued him since their arrival at Konoha.
He’d been used, at the very beginning. As soon as he had realised that to have been the case, that the necklace which was still strung around his neck may well have been nothing more than an emotional leash, he was saddened. Deeply saddened, that Tsunade had gone to such lengths to disguise her actions, to make her machinations in protecting the village appear to be the logical conclusion of the external world.
She’d found out about the demons. Between her and the then-Kazekage, they decided to send them in warning. It failed. They didn’t know what to do. So they moved the entire village.
He should have been angry to have finally figured it out, but he couldn’t blame Tsunade. She had done her best to protect the village. He was still alive. She played a dangerous game, and it had paid off. No losses of life, other than those eight markers framed by grass.
They’d been let in too easily because she knew better than to lose them. Knew better than to compromise the village’s safety. She knew they were there the moment they came on to the shore. He was an idiot for failing to recognise it.
Which lead him, inevitably, back to whether Gaara knew. If Gaara knew and hadn’t told him, then what they had was nothing more than a lie.
The click of a key in the door made him brighten his face into a welcoming smile.
His birthday was not something he had ever really celebrated until Sakura and Hinata decided to make a large fuss about it. It had pleased him at the time, but now, with all the complications surrounding his recent discovery, one he couldn’t throw in Tsunade’s face, and Gaara’s supposed betrayal and Sasuke’s unwillingness to answer questions but continued baiting, he was far too occupied to think. Never mind enjoy his birthday.
Still, like the past five years, there would be a table at a restaurant, undoubtedly the Gold Isle knowing Hinata and Sakura’s taste, and they would all eat together.
Gaara had left this morning, leaving him with a lingering green-eyed gaze. He didn’t do birthdays, but that certainly did not surprise him. Naruto was beginning to hate being surrounded by emotional cripples.
In his mind though, are images of Sasuke’s birthday, and he only wishes himself to be that lucky.
Sasuke doesn’t know what to do. He hasn’t bought someone a birthday present for years, he feels out of practise.
He received the invitation to dinner at the Gold Isle two days ago, detailing that he’d be joining Hinata, Neji, Sakura & Lee as well as Gaara at seven in celebration of Naruto’s birthday.
He browsed the stores, slowly, inspecting potential gifts for pitfalls. The streets petered out, and still he had not found anything. Memories of his own birthday, the stolen kiss flitted through his mind, distracting him from the task.
He wanted to ask someone for advice, but he didn’t think he would be happy with their suggestions. Nor did he want to hear the truth, that they knew him better than he did. He only had himself to blame for that, even if they missed the most important aspects of his nature, even if no one understood him at the deepest as well as Naruto did.
Sasuke is as close to desperate as he would ever admit himself to be, but mainly because this has everything to do with what Naruto means to him, and the reason why he is here. He won’t tell Naruto, but he’s prepared to leave him clues.
He was beginning to panic. It was already noon, and he still didn’t have anything. Three hours of browsing, and he didn’t know what to buy.
He was running out of options, he thought there might be another small street of stores he could look at. A small antique shop waited in front of him. On any other occasion, he may well have passed it by, but now he stepped up to it, hoping that there was something he could find to give Naruto the same feeling he had when he’d seen the kuchiyose.
It was dark and musty in the small room, filled to brimming with valuables worth nothing and something. A bell rang as the door swung closed. An old lady cautiously scuttled forward, and seeing him stepped behind the counter to greet him warmly.
“Good afternoon, can I help you sir?” she rattled off, and Sasuke wondered when and how he’d become a sir rather than a boy, or young man.
“I’m looking for something for a friend, it’s his birthday today.” Sasuke cast a gaze around the room, filtering out portraits, landscapes, small carved toys and glazed figurines.
“Well, perhaps you should take a look around, if you see anything you would like help with, just call for me.” He nodded in reply.
He could see a little path led behind the tall stack at the front, picking his way he came upon glass cabinets filled with ivory and semi-precious stones. Then, further along, another glass cabinet, stacked with old games.
Sasuke stopped here, eyes falling on a cherry wood box, polished to a perfect sheen, the check pattern holding painted symbols. He recognised it as an ancient game, Court, mixing the idea of opposing forces with domination of territory.
“Madam?” he called towards the counter, turning his eyes back to the game. His parents used to play it in the evening; they’d always sent him to bed when his father approached with the game in hand.
“Yes?” The lady bobbed on her feet, jade necklace swinging wildly.
“Could I have a look at this game please?”
“Of course.” She produced a key; pulling out the game once the glass door had been slid back, then handing it to him. He nodded at her once more in thanks, feeling the smooth wood under his hand, smelling the slight scent that emanated from the wood. A small filigree gold clasp opened to reveal the various tiny figurines that made up the game. He was impressed at the level of detail, the tiny brushstrokes that made up the decoration along the edges, as well as the ruby silk that covered the inside. “This is a fine specimen; you have a keen eye to have spotted it.”
He didn’t really hear her words, just said, “I’ll take it.”
“Ah, it doesn’t come cheap.” She warned.
“I know. I’ll take it.”
“I’ve sold this to many old men and women, usually they come in together to purchase something. They always fall in love with old versions of this game.” Sasuke’s eyes snapped up to the woman, though she had her back to him, heading to the counter where she wrapped the gift for him in tissue paper, then gave it to him in a gold patterned box.
The price flashed up on the till, but he didn’t pay it much attention, paying, saying his thanks and leaving, glad to have found something to produce this evening.
Evening approached, and Naruto fixed the shirt on his neck into place once more. His tails behind him twitched agitatedly, a reminder that even if he did push his anxieties to the back of his mind, someone would notice if he did not control himself.
Taking a deep breath, Naruto headed towards the door, aware that Gaara hadn’t returned from work. Unless he’d gone back to his own place, either way Naruto didn’t let it bother him, moving down the hallway steadily, out of the block of apartments towards the Gold Isle.
The air was cool, noticeably even though it was warmer than the old Konoha would have been. Strange to consider how easily the body acclimatised to change in weather, to change in life.
It’d felt as if he’d been with Gaara for ages - and on some level he didn’t doubt that they had once met in other shapes - it also felt as if Sasuke had always been back, as if it wasn’t still something he was getting used to.
Being complacent, he knew, would open him to betrayal, to deceit by green-eyed smiles. Allowing himself to be pushed around, allowing himself to be kept in the dark would only lead to disaster, to chaos, to the death of someone.
Thoughts whirling in his head like the pollen on the playful wind, Naruto stepped with some urgency towards the Gold Isle, unsure of everything, knowing that he was haphazardly balancing on the edge of something momentous.
He was ready.
They were so young, but time had taught them not to take its passing lightly.
Hinata looked in the mirror once more, brushing down eyebrows, running a careful hand through sleek black hair, fixing her evening wear into place, moving jewellery back into place. Her heart was beating at a furious pace, but on the outside she was calm.
“Hinata?” Neji appeared behind her, cleanly dressed, hair tied loosely behind him as usual.
“I’m ready.” She replied. He came towards her, she turned to face him, and he took her bejewelled hands in his, pulling her towards him until their foreheads touched - though he still wore the bandages. Though not for much longer.
“You’re beautiful.” He didn’t know what else to say. What could he say, without embarrassing her efforts? He could only reassure her. And he could only damn Naruto for being so unaware.
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, Neji could see opal, like he expected, but less like the colour of opal, more of the brittle hardness of opal stone. Precious.
He found her coat & the gift, and off they went, sliding silk doors shut.
Sakura and Lee stood at the bar of the restaurant, early because they had tired of their parents. Ever since they had become engaged, their parents had insisted on meeting all the time to become closer. While they appreciated the effort they were making to integrate, they really did want to spend some time alone. So they escaped.
Lee’s hand felt warm in the small of her back. The protective gesture made her feel warm all over, slowed the pace of her breathing until she felt adrift in a void. Everything felt softer, as if she would fall but for his steadying strength. Her stomach flushed with heat, a gentle internal sway like the nourishing sea, a thickening of the blood, of sea-broth. Tears threatened for some reason; she supposed she never imagined happiness and love could feel this good, this painful.
“Sakura, Lee!” the spell was broken as they both turned to see Hinata and Neji. “You’re early!” came Hinata’s surprised smile. Neji returned Lee’s nod.
“Just warming up to the party. A drink while we wait for everyone else?” Sakura replied, banishing the sensual thoughts drifting to the base of her spine.
Naruto was the last to arrive. He was glad; he didn’t want to watch the awkward greeting of Gaara and Sasuke at the table. At least this way he could pretend it had never happened.
Everyone looked well-dressed; perhaps the most gratifying aspect of this entire evening is that they had all made an effort to celebrate the passing of another year with him.
And yet he found it difficult to summon a genuine-looking smile, one that would fool even Gaara & Sasuke. As he was directed to the table, he took in the seating arrangement. This time the restaurant was emptier; it was a Monday after all, and for many people this was the end of a period of mourning for the older generation; the entire village was still quieter than usual.
Pretending all the time was growing old, and he knew Gaara disapproved - even if he insisted on not caring at this very moment.
A space for him had been left between Hinata and Sasuke. Lee was sitting next to Sasuke, Sakura on Lee’s right, and then came Gaara, then Neji who as usual was sat next to Hinata. Naruto relaxed, smoothed, felt better at seeing the volatiles parted, even if Gaara would be unforgiving because he wasn’t blind. Just deeply prejudiced against any species he didn’t care for.
Before he could get to the table, Sakura spotted him, rising midway to greet him, causing five pairs of eyes, all different, to swivel towards him. Stepping up to the table he gave Sakura a quick hug, then round to Hinata to repeat. He didn’t miss their spectacular beauty, and something in him shifted slightly, a growing awareness once more of the thing in his blind spot, something he kept missing, something he felt he could catch; something he instinctively knew but subconsciously suppressed.
Chatter grew around the table as he was congratulated, voices flooding him with sounds all too quickly, and all of a sudden euphoria gripped him, stress and anxieties leaving him as he truly smiled, as he began to enjoy himself.
Hinata and Sakura skilfully kept the conversation going, light and unobtrusive as they ate; Gaara related some stories from his recent travels Naruto hadn’t heard before and Neji and Sasuke argued about the pros and cons of the new foldable shuriken.
He revelled in it. This is how he had wanted it from the beginning, the laughter, the conversation, the good company that came willingly, which forced him to celebrate like any other being.
As dessert ended, and the evening drew towards midnight, he received his first gift from Neji and Hinata, an old book they had in their study he had discovered. Every time he went there and had to wait on Hinata to finish getting ready, he would read the aged tome, half-encyclopaedia half-fiction of timeless myths.
He laughed as he saw it.
“We thought as he was always reading that particular one, we may as well give it to him.” Hinata explained the significance of the book to the rest.
“But what am I supposed to read now while I wait for you two?” Naruto mock-complained. “Thanks, you two, so much.” He kissed Hinata on the cheek.
“Well, here you go Naruto. Another year over.”
“Thanks.” Naruto accepted the small, neatly-wrapped package. Opening it revealed a wooden box, and Naruto couldn’t hide the surprised smile that graced his face. “Seriously Sakura? I would’ve thought…” it was as he had thought, a box of light cigars.
“Yes, yes, I know. But if you’re going to insist on smoking something occasionally, at least make it these rather than those disgusting ones Jiraiya always pawns off on you.” Her nose crinkled in disgust as she recalled the awful smell and smoke those produced. She couldn’t imagine where Jiraiya found them, or had thought it even remotely appropriate to introduce Naruto to them. But the Sannins were by no means normal, and Sakura was only just beginning to appreciate how sly Tsunade could be.
“You know I only do it at special events. I’ve never actually bought my own!” he laughed. “Thank you, both of you, thanks.” He offered them around the table, all of the men taking one. “Ah, this is a very good day.” Naruto laughed heartily, puffing away contentedly.
“Well, Happy Birthday Naruto.” Sasuke finally said, bringing up the box. Naruto felt it, then, despite the smoke, the lingering happiness had suddenly gained a slight tension at the fringes. He accepted the box, surprised at the weight of it.
He was being watched for his reaction. Dragging on the cigar slightly, he opened the box, pulling out the glossy box in the middle. Just out of his right eye, he could see a slight pull on Sasuke’s forehead, a bracing.
“Sasuke?” He asked, unsure of what it was. It looked like a game; he was sure he had seen Shikamaru play it once a long time ago.
“It’s a game called Court. Very old.” He replied, still taut.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, opening the small gold clasp at the front. He could appreciate the beautiful art, the careful stroke of deer-brush on the wood with shellac. “Are there instructions? Or you’ll have to teach me how to play it Sasuke. It’s beau-” opening the box he saw the detailed carvings of the tiny figures, the semi-precious stones that had been used, the burgundy silk which covered it.
A small pause enveloped the table as they waited on Naruto to finish his spoken thoughts. Naruto suddenly felt ill, it had nothing to do with the cigars, just the sudden feeling of an exudation of heat from the box.
“I don’t know what to say, Sasuke. It’s amazing.” Then quieter, “It’s too much.” But he knew Sasuke could hear him. He ignored the glare from Gaara, even if it was subtly disguised. He ignored the slight hints of jealousy from Sakura and Hinata, who felt as if they had been outdone by a traitor they had yet to fully reconcile themselves with. He had yet to thank Sasuke in a way that would remotely convey his feelings on the matter, but Sasuke knew in any case, was secure in that knowledge. He could tell in the way he smirked, a light tilt of the mouth even Sakura would be able to recognize if she cared to look. “Thank You.”
The lateness of the evening was beginning to sink in, he felt overwhelmed.
“Naruto.” Gaara called for his attention. “Here.” He held out a scroll, in the style of Gaara, unwrapped. The fact that he had even brought him a gift meant something, though Naruto wasn’t sure what it truly meant.
“Thanks.” The hesitance and bewildered tone in his voice conveyed his surprise. Opening the scroll, he was met with the sight of lushly painted scenes of battle, a story scroll relating the loss of two countries at the fury of a lone demon in its prime. His heartbeat stilled for endless seconds as his eyes skated forwards, skimming the page for the core of the matter. Horror and satisfaction at the story warred to unsettle him; Gaara’s gift was a reminder above all of their dual nature. Not something he wanted to be reminded of, at this very moment. Thankfully it was not a description of either of their demons; it would have been a difficult situation to explain away. “Thanks Gaara.” Addressing the rest, “Trust Gaara’s present to reflect current events; he’s a Kazekage to the very bone.”
Gaara smiled, but Naruto had seen his smiles, it was different from unimpeded laughter on dawn-lit beaches, this was a smile that hid dark longings, an obsession.
“Oh, I think it is time we go, they are closing up!” Hinata exclaimed.
“We’ll get the bill. Have a nice night Naruto, everyone else. Come Hinata.” A chorus of thanks accompanied them to the bar where they paid. Sakura and Lee expressed their thanks and left too, leaving Naruto with Sasuke and Gaara.
He eyed them over the table. Gave a final puff on the cigar, and stubbed it out. Gathering his gifts, he rose, stepped back from the table and smiled a fine line of white teeth at them both.
“See you tomorrow, thanks for the gifts.”
Gaara watched the sunset, thoughts in complete disarray as a set, but in their individual wholes clear as mountain water filtered through the stones of the ages. He watched the sun set, the gradual drawing down of blinds on the southern side of Konoha, the emergence of stars.
Just thinking.
It was too late for him. He was too far gone down one path, the reflex thoughts had been burnt into his neurons. He couldn’t change now, even though the sleep was enough strength to keep control. He could only warn Naruto of the same, but the motive behind that was as twisted as the demon that sat behind the weakening fences. The skyline beckoned him, the horizon drifting ever forward, an endless, timeless appeal that resonated within him. He would not leave, he would not die, he would not lose what he wanted. What was his. What he had allowed to become his, once that occurred no one could take it away.
He had pushed it too far with the gift, hadn’t dared to go back. That didn’t mean that he was not aware of Naruto’s movements, he’d been to see Sasuke. They had played their game every day as Naruto was sucked ever deeper into mastering it. He was beginning to resent Sasuke’s interference, one that was dragging its ugly mark across his relationship with Naruto.
The night was cool, the humid stickiness settled into the bones of the people here very quickly. The desert dryness of his sand was beginning to be compromised.
This isn’t the way Sasuke had thought it would go. Kakashi had suddenly appeared and had insisted on talking to him over lunch. In fact, Sasuke thought the very experience, if not pushed to the very back of his mind, may very well have haunted him.
Kakashi seemed unchanged. Still characteristically lazy, a dog-eared copy of Icha Icha Paradise tucked into the top pocket of his flak vest. Mask still covering the lower half of his face, the lop-sided, battered Konoha forehead protector firmly in place. His gait was still that of an unruffled, sedated old man, which ultimately belied the true speed at which Sasuke had seen him move.
It was a time warp, not even the shock of white hair had changed.
An odd decoration in his house, Sasuke began to fix lunch, not at ease with Kakashi here because he suddenly realised that he felt he owed the man an explanation.
Kakashi flicked through his book as he waited, not willing to speak until they had eaten because that seemed the best way to establish the right atmosphere required for such a delicate subject. He wasn’t his sensei anymore, but he still owed him something, he was the only other link left to an illustrious history.
It created bonds he would otherwise never have thought to consider. He would honour them, and play the older, wiser uncle.
A draft of late-October air pushed the smell of fresh-cooked food through the house. It gave an illusionary image of homey-ness. They both knew better. They both had not experienced a feeling of home since their youngest years.
Kakashi felt he had failed the boy somehow, not that he was sure where, because he had thought he had done everything in his power to keep him there. Even if he understood why he had left.
“We can eat.” Sasuke, subdued, nearing sullen reported. Kakashi pocketed the novel, helping him serve up the table. They ate in silence, quiet and efficient.
“Thank You.” Kakashi pushed his bowl to the side. Sasuke only nodded in reply, face blank of all emotions. “So. The never-ending saga between you and Naruto.” Kakashi paused, hoping that somewhere Sasuke would decide to make his life easier and talk back.
“Pardon?” Sasuke replied. Kakashi’s lips curved under the fabric into a smirk. When all else failed, falling back onto his high-born nature was a comfort to Sasuke.
“You know what I mean. You’d be surprised at what I know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The beginning of an ill-tempered partner to this dialogue.
“It’s only been five years. My memory is not that bad. That said, it has been five years. You two should just get to the end of whatever it is you’re playing at. Don’t delay. You should know that. If anything, I would have thought any time spent with Orochimaru would have taught you that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sasuke was beginning to realize that the old man definitely saw more with that one eye than he did with his two. Was it experience?
“Yes, you do. Stop playing around.” This short conversation was beginning to take its toll on Kakashi. He didn’t particularly enjoy having to guide an obstinate youth no matter what the obligations and self-imposed duties.
“Fine. It isn’t any of your business.” Sasuke snapped.
“It is if you are going to try and kill each other again.”
“That doesn’t appear to work.” He replied, flippantly.
“Good. See you around, Sasuke. Here’s my number in case you want something.” Kakashi placed a card on the table, shifting it to the side. Standing up he made a lazy salute, and left via the door.
Sasuke sat at the table, alternately cursing the dead relative who’d given Kakashi that false sense of obligation, and inventively, expressively cursing Kakashi’s gift of sight.
He relaxed back into the chair, the game of Court falling into his line of sight. They were in the middle of a game and at the moment neither truly had the upper-hand. They were equal.
The second dawn propelled Gaara into action. Going along the streets of Konoha, he reached the edge, the perimeter of Sasuke’s estate. He made his way towards the house, knocking at the door with measured strokes.
A few moments later it was opened by Sasuke, clearly woken from sleep. He was alert though, and at the sight of Gaara on his doorstep, his mind began to calculate various options.
He wasn’t that fast yet.
Nothing was said. Sasuke decided to break the silence.
“And?” he challenged, a dangerous insolence, which set the slow burn of sands in the cradle of Gaara’s eyes alight.
“Sasuke.” Gaara acknowledged, sweeping a contemptuous eye over the figure in front of him. “Despite what you may think, Naruto is mine. You don’t understand him. You don’t know him as I do. You have lost. You will not succeed. You do not have the strength to take him from me, and I will crush you should you be as insolent to try. I believe you have failed.” The timbre of the voice fluctuated, the tones of an obsessive maniac on the edge of complete and utter loss of control. He vibrated on the spot, as if ready to attack, and Sasuke knew that everything depended on his next words. He’d be able to see it, but he wouldn’t be fast enough to avoid it.
“I know.” The flare in Gaara’s eyes subsided. Leaving him with a dark, green-eyed, piercing look, Gaara of the Sand moved towards Naruto’s home.
Sasuke watched, unsure of the outcome of tonight.
Naruto woke at the opening of his front door. Quick footsteps marched towards him, and Naruto relaxed, knowing it to be Gaara. Though he was uncertain how much longer he could continue this, tonight would be like the other nights.
Gaara emerged in the doorway, as Naruto had come to notice, the darkness bent towards him, as if in homage to the dark creature he hid behind refined, sand-smoothed features. Naruto wondered sometimes if the darkness bent towards him too.
For a timeless second, Gaara remained standing, visibly agitated. “Naruto.” He croaked, and it was the emotion, the need, the plaintive call of his name on those lips that made Naruto melt, reminded him of home and earth, instead of its iron clasp.
“Come.” Naruto sat up, beckoning him towards him, opening his arms in welcome.
“It’s too late for me.” He mumbled, though Naruto heard him.
“Come.” Naruto repeated, and Gaara came towards him, clothes making the hissing sound of silk upon silk as they ribbon-ed down to the carpet. Naked, Gaara climbed onto the bed, into Naruto’s arms, and as they closed around him, arms that closed around his back, the smooth feel of skin upon skin, and as they did this, Gaara kissed Naruto’s neck hungrily, with all his might, sucking slightly to leave a bruise which blossomed and withered in moments.
But his mark had been there. Was that enough? It was enough, so he told himself.
“I love you.” He says. Naruto nods, in understanding. Mouths near each other, kiss tentatively, then openly, a greeting of lips that had lost touch.
Naruto’s hand on his back sooths as they kiss, as they slowly lay down, heads meeting pillows as they caress each other. Slow, gentle caresses that lull them to sleep.
And on the bridge between wakefulness and sleep, Gaara says: “You’re mine, right?”
And on the bridge between wakefulness and sleep, Naruto does not reply.
But they slept and Gaara closed eyes that felt the weakness of tears for the first time in over a decade.
Naruto woke fully, totally, eyes opening onto total blackness, a smooth blackness he has seen before. It is familiar to him, too familiar, and it only takes him a moment to recognise it, for the cloud of claustrophobia to descend on his mind. Struggling to keep it at bay, he pushes at Gaara next to him, shaking him frantically, shouting now to tell him to stop. The blood in his arteries begins to pump around his body harder, preparing for the inevitable shift, and Naruto breathes harder, edging on hyperventilation as he sucks in the smell of bloodied desert sand.
The bed caught on fire immediately. Naruto directed a blast of jutsu fire at the ceiling, hoping it to be thinner there, to use a hot enough heat to turn it into molten glass that would obey the laws of gravity and pour down. Allowing him to escape.
The haze of the burning carpet creates a noxious fume, one he is desperate to escape; the fire becomes hotter, though he doesn’t feel it, just sees it in the way orange turns to red, turns to blue, turns to purple, and turns invisible.
Gaara wakes, the entire dome collapsing, sand spreading to protect the room from the fire. He bolts up, sheets of glass on his left side sliding off raw-pink skin to break on the floor. A terrified glance at Naruto, and he escapes from the room.
Naruto did not follow.
Instead, he pulled on some slacks, one of the few things in his cupboard that had survived the charring effects. Padding over the sand, he left the apartment, not aware of the siren call of the fire brigade.
He did not wander the streets. He headed, directly, to Sasuke, mind blank.
Naruto knocked at the door, pacing in the path, fists clenching, jaw grinding as he calmed himself down.
The door opened, revealing a pissed-off looking Sasuke. Naruto did not give him time to ask questions, wanting only one thing, wanting only to test the shape of their bodies against each other. He pushed him through the door, closing it behind him. Sasuke’s eyes were alert, his nose smelling smoke, the hint of which recalled memories of sitting around a campfire.
Naruto approached him, circling momentarily, eyeing him in the way that reminded him of the creature within him. Slow dance of the panther, sleek like the cats he called using the kuchiyose.
Sasuke pulled Naruto to him, trapping him in an embrace that revealed the regret of five lost years. Revealed the depths of his love, not healthy, but more balanced than what Gaara had offered, and Naruto took it, kissing him hungrily, pulling off the t-shirt Sasuke had worn to bed. The attraction between them was unbelievably strong. Naruto pinned him to the wall, trapping him against it, thanking and punishing him for every stolen, for every forced kiss.
They said, I want you.
They said, I need you, I can’t live without you, I’ve missed you -oh fuck, oh gods I love you. Be mine. You’re mine. Their kisses spoke all of this, spoke all of this and more, and somehow they made it to the bed. Sasuke clutched at the full head of blond hair, twisting it harshly in his grasp, aroused, feeling the depth of Naruto’s arousal against his stomach as he bent him back to suck hungrily at an exposed neck, the culmination of a thousand late night thoughts. Branding a thousand flowers indelibly into Naruto’s skin, who scratched unmercifully at his chest, rubbing unforgivingly at the tender flesh of his nipples, mewling and growling at the force of Sasuke’s passion.
Naruto’s eyes flashed red as he gripped at Sasuke’s hair, burying his hands achingly into his scalp, satisfied at hearing the low moan uttered at the caress of his head. Bending low, he licked slowly at his ear, breathing, glad to hear the hitched breathing, then hissed low and meaningful into Sasuke’s ear, reinforcing the words of his lips with a tug of his hair: “You’re mine, you’re mine.” Sasuke stilled under him, harsh pants breaching the air. Sharingan eyes met the red flush of Naruto’s eyes. He pulled at the light-gold strands wrapped around his hand, pulling Naruto closer so he could whisper in his ear, dark vibrations pooling in every single nook of Naruto’s spine to spit fire at his nerves as he heard: “You’re mine, mine.”
He crushed their lips together once more as he slowly began to rotate his hips into Sasuke’s lap. Feeling tight, unbelievably tight, and elated, the heavy musk of sex settled into the air, silk sheets cool to the touch of burning bodies. Naruto loosened his hold on Sasuke’s hair, kissing slowly, the rub of tongues against each other, the slow sensual rub a reminder of things to come. Naruto’s tails weaved wildly behind him, sensitive to the hum of bodies, puffed up. Sasuke took hold of Naruto’s buttocks, massaging sun-bronzed skin, moving upwards to touch the base of his tail, the place where the bundle of nerves gathered to go upwards, massaging that spot as if he had always known it to be sensitive, and Naruto fell apart in his arms, weakened, barely able to breathe, unbearably hard, left whimpering. Sasuke kissed his lips, his blushing cheeks, the corner of his eye, the middle of his forehead, wherever he could reach as he enjoyed the humid tangle of limbs. The hint of fire left on Naruto’s skin blurred his senses.
Sasuke pushed Naruto to the side, leaning over him, licking his lips with a gentle swipe of the tongue, nibbling down his jaw as red-blue eyes watched on. Sucking damply at a pulse which fluttered at contact, further down to a gleaming expanse of gold-brown chest, topped with nipples which stretched and hardened under his tongue, his nimble and deft hands.
Hands caressed his sides, moving to edge the boundary of skin with fabric, where slacks hung limply on hips. Sasuke’s hands wandered down, brushing the flickering seal on Naruto’s stomach, going further to grasp the slick length hidden in the folds of dark fabric, his own throbbing in sympathy as Naruto’s hips rose to thrust in his weak hold. His nose nuzzled the soft skin between hip and the triangular area above his hot need, a moan emanating from Naruto as he did so, a sudden tightening of hands in his hair. He pulled down the slacks, enough to reveal swollen flesh. Climbing back up, allowing Naruto to dally his kisses under his jaw, he rummaged in the bedside table, feeling for lube, shutting it as he found it while Naruto’s hands dropped to his boxer shorts, helping him rid himself of the clothing. Pressing down to feel delicious friction as they glided over each other, a raw appraisal of each other’s need.
Touching lips once more, slick fingers snaked down between virgin thighs that opened willingly, touching, pressing, entering, raising the heat between them another notch as fingers opened Naruto to more, moans continuously splintering the air, cleaving it in two.
Positioning himself, Sasuke looked into Naruto’s eyes, eyes that were wholly blue, colour of the sky, of the sea on its best day, and further in the fiery currents that had pulled him in, the reason why he was here, why he was home. Why he had built, and all these thoughts crowded into his head, with the overwhelming need to finally complete this, and so he did, pushing into slick heat, ankles crossing behind his back to pull bodies flush together as Naruto adjusted, his head thrown back in celebration of this moment. Sasuke found it unbearably difficult to hold still, to wait until he nodded before continuing, setting the slow and gentle pace of their lovemaking, the slow roll of hips into Naruto who greeted it with the widening of his thighs; a low moan which rumbled out of the very depths of his spine, upwards, humming and gathering strength as it burst forward, enveloping them both. It felt so right.
Reaching between their bodies, Sasuke gripped tightly onto Naruto, running a thumb over his hardness as they kissed open-mouthed, urging him to come. The delicious pressure and heat that surrounded Sasuke, the change of angle that brought the low-pitched rumble into a higher-pitched moan, the noise that made Sasuke thrust one last time in completion, a warm rush over his hand and tight clenching of muscles proof that this had always meant to be.
As they began to breathe again, nestled in each other’s arms, the smell of sex permeating the room, the tang of fire left on Naruto’s skin still remaining, Sasuke brought his hand up to Naruto’s face, cupping a cheek, kissing lips tenderly, reverently. They nodded off to sleep.
It was only a brief sleep, a recharging of expended energy that had left them cat-lazy. Eyes opened from beyond the haze, Naruto stretching in Sasuke’s clasp, loosening arms. Sasuke watched him, languid dark lashes and dishevelled hair leaving him with a debauched look, one that caused Naruto to harden at the very sight of it.
Mimicking Sasuke’s earlier action, he brought a hand up to Sasuke’s cheek, intending to kiss him just as gently, only to have Sasuke shift his head on the pillow slightly, sucking in the longest digit of his hand, laving it with the rough swipe of his tongue.
Finding the lube, efficiently slicking himself with it, he brought two fingers to Sasuke, whose legs fell open just as his had. Complete and utter trust, not even a betraying hitch. Dark eyes watched him, seeing colour instead of red, seeing as it occurred rather than before. A leg brought up to a shoulder, tenderly kissed, then the lining up of hips as Naruto steadily entered, giving Sasuke a moment to accommodate this new feeling. One of fullness. Of belonging. Of completion. The amazing friction as Naruto moved torturously slow, burning wide bands of fire up his spine, causing a tingle across his entire body.
Leaving Sasuke coherent enough only to say one thing: “You’re the reason.” And Naruto understood.
Naruto is lost, even though he is grounded, adrift in emotions he cannot possibly describe, the temporary eternality of this moment imprinted on his mind. Sasuke’s eyes call on him to be harder, to run rough fingertips across pale skin, to leave a bruise in the shape of his emotions, urging him to go deeper. A haze drifts across their eyes, kissing life-breath into each other as they moaned and lost consciousness, coming in the multitude of emotions that engulfed them.
Naruto woke with a smile that quickly waned as the full extent of last night came to mind. Then ignored, it now bit at the core of his consciousness. Gaara. The dawn light filtered into the room, dappled by the trees that blew their moist tang into the room on the eaves of the wind’s wings.
Shifting out of the bed, Naruto found his slacks and pulled them on, spine cracking as he bent over, the pull of muscles over his back evidence of last night. He could smell Sasuke on him, the mix of their sex, calming him.
Sasuke woke, eyes opening alert, immediately aware of the lack of a body next to him. He sat up as he saw Naruto circumvent the bed, unsure of where this left them.
“Naruto?” his voice, husky-hoarse, toyed at the shell of Naruto’s ears. “Don’t leave.”
Naruto had only one thing left to do.
“I promise I’ll be back.” He said, eyes deeply serious, pressing a lingering kiss to Sasuke’s lips. Then he disappeared. But Sasuke wasn’t worried.
He’d come back. He had a reason.
THE END
A few last words:
Thanks go out to a few people. First of all Letta (whose fics I’m sure you’ve read!) who helped me out with my plan, and whose analysis of its last section was invaluable in bringing the fic to its ending. Thank you, so much!
Thanks to all of you who reviewed, all the constructive criticism I received which I hope (hope!) has made me a better writer. Thank you!
To the staff at COLLIDE who recommended this fic with such an amazing (and perhaps overly-flattering! Hehe!) description - it was an honour, and I hope it lived up to your expectations.
I can’t actually believe it is over. I'm worried I've left some huge plot hole...ack!
Thanks for reading.
Starapple/Martinique
Note: If you want to know what happens to one character in particular, read Epilogue: At Home which is posted before this one.
By Starapple/Martinique
Rating: R
Pairings: Main: SasuNaru, NaruSasu, GaaNaru, NaruGaa, LeeSaku. One-sided HinaNaru.
Warning: Lemon scene. Also some het-talk.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
Chapter 13 - great things happen
He heard the door open, had heard the tread of feet in the hallway. He couldn’t sleep, not when he had been waiting for him to come. Naruto heard Gaara let himself into his flat, close the door behind him and advance on the bedroom. He waited for Gaara to emerge in his room.
“Naruto.” He stood in the doorway for endless seconds. Naruto could make him out by the slight change in darkness; it appeared to curve inwards on Gaara.
“Come in already.” Is all he replied with though. For some reason he doesn’t know how to deal with Gaara, again. Even though he made what they had more real by telling Sasuke - as if he didn’t know, hadn’t guessed - but really all that mattered is what they had.
He was beginning to draw a blank on what they had. They shared the same problem, but in all respects even those manifested themselves so differently that in the end they weren’t sharing anything at all but a condition.
How could that be a foundation for a relationship? One where there were clear boundaries between what he could and couldn’t know, something that burned all the more because he knew something was off.
They’d been let in too easily.
And Gaara wasn’t telling him what it was, and he wasn’t sure if he even knew. Or guessed. And if he did know - why hadn’t he said? If the roles were reversed, he would have said something. He was sure of it.
“A lot of paperwork.” Gaara said, the closest he came to an apology. His tone didn’t change, and for all purposes he may well have been a statue, slowly ground down by the passing of time. He watched him advance slowly, rolling towards him on the bed. His features were sand-drawn, hard but soft. The rings around his eyes had begun to darken again, and Naruto knew he’d be awake most of the night, listening for the hush of sand across the wooden floor.
“I know.” Gaara’s form settled on the bed, muscles visibly easing as he relaxed. Gaara looked down on him, and Naruto wasn’t sure he liked what he could see in the midnight darkness, a vague sense of softening around the eyes.
It unsettled him.
Gaara turned his back on him, undressing slowly.
It had been like this ever since they had returned two weeks ago. Walking around each other, moving side by side but not quite touching.
It didn’t stop Gaara from slipping into bed with him, didn’t stop Gaara from touching him, hungrily. And he let him, because he wanted to, because this is the way it worked between them. Touching, kissing hungrily, legs tangling, skin stretching taut under rough caresses.
It was so very different from the first time.
Naruto thought that somehow, perhaps, trust would develop - but the word home didn’t sound the same on Gaara’s lips anymore, sounded more like war and the grate of iron gates.
In the end, he lay awake, listening, listening for the slightest sound.
He should have been livid, furious, a momentum of emotion rolling downwards to crush. Instead, just calm, a peaceful acceptance of what Gaara told him. That he was leaving for earth country, with his siblings to dissolve secure investments in the name of Sand Country. If they could make contact.
He was surprised he had not been asked to accompany them, just in case there was another threat of demons. He knew he was merely fooling himself, they had finally eliminated the demon threat, and the war was over, the occupation begun. He wasn’t sure if there was anything left for him to do, in the past two weeks he hadn’t taken on a job. He was still trying to figure everything out.
And now Gaara would be leaving him for two weeks. He didn’t know what to feel, it was far more punctuated by the fact that it didn’t bother him. They were drifting apart, or at least he was moving away from him, and the entire thing stank of Sasuke and his interference.
He didn’t know how it happened.
They said goodbye that morning, Gaara at the door looking back, an indescribable look in his face, Naruto near the kitchen, barely mustering a half-hearted reply.
He left.
Sasuke perches on the couch at his new estate, unsure whether to go ahead and call Naruto or not. He doesn’t know why he should feel so unsure about it, after all, Naruto had insisted that they spar at one point - and now that they were back he felt they were settled enough to do so. He didn’t like to admit to himself that he was simply using it as an excuse to see him again, even though they had parted on bad terms. It was partially his fault for pushing and pulling at Naruto’s patience.
A sad attempt at being acknowledged, more importantly as an equal.
He was still the reason, he knew this because the house was empty of feeling. It couldn’t hold him, because there were no memories. Sasuke looked at the phone, the smooth black plastic, which could change so much in so little time.
He knew Gaara wasn’t there, and he almost felt as if he was being far too deliberate in going after Naruto. After all, Naruto knew what he wanted, that he wanted him, because he was the reason for his continued existence.
He’d be stupid not to take advantage. Mind made up, he picks up the phone and slowly begins to dial Naruto’s number.
Its ten hundred hours on the first of October.
Two figures stand opposite each other, in stark relief against the slanted sun. They are poised in their stances, ones that they haven’t really had an opportunity to admire for all of those years.
In each other they see the five years of experience, the subtle shifts that maximise offence and defence. Between them are the whispers of the ages, a silent humming underpins the slight tension of the muscles, tuning to the gentle rhythm of nature.
A signal, known only to them catapults them together, a swift dance full of intent holding short at death. The thud of arms and legs on softer parts, or blocked, ring out in the stillness of the field. The twist of bodies to avoid, spinning backwards, flipping forwards to attack once more.
In Sasuke the Sharingan spins wildly, erratic as it seeks to cope with the unbelievably fast movements of Naruto whose tactics twist and turn as he executes them, feinting, double-feinting.
Naruto’s tails flicker behind him, and in his heart he is soaring, watching in delight as they spar, moving faster, everything faster until he no longer thinks, merely moves in the void they have created. Adrift in the pace of the moment.
It comes to an end.
Naruto delivers a resounding blow to Sasuke’s stomach, even as Sasuke attempts to twist backwards, to block the blow with his arm, but he is too late, his eyes see but his body cannot react - he is thrown twenty metres, aching to catch his breath, checking limbs to feel nothing broken.
The fight is over, and Naruto goes over to Sasuke, holding out a hand, which he readily takes. His hand is warm. And it almost feels like yesterday, but they are older. And it almost feels like tomorrow, but nothing is certain.
“Well done.” Sasuke says, slowing his heart beat, controlling his breathing. He isn’t out of shape; he’s found it easier to keep up than he thought he would.
“Thanks. You did really well.” Naruto replies, it is the truth, but Sasuke knows Naruto hasn’t even started to work, he’s seen him against demons; he has seen him naked due to loss of control. Yet the compliment still stands. “Ah, damn, we should have agreed a forfeit.” Naruto laughs, it pours out of his mouth throatily.
“Oh? What would that have been?” For some reason, Sasuke finds himself holding his breath, waiting. Naruto looks at him, a deliberate sound in his eyes, guarded but Sasuke sees it. Naruto shrugs, a roll of the shoulders.
“The usual.”
“Which is?” Sasuke immediately presses. It’s clearer now, there’s a fire behind his eyes, one that burns him with its intensity. Sasuke can see Naruto’s mind works as, like his body did before, it twists away from the question.
Naruto pretends to think.
“Telling me why you came back.”
Sasuke looks at the ground, it’s a disabling question he’s unwilling to answer. Not yet.
He’d had time to think everything over, and he thought it had finally come clear to him today. Left unsure on the edge of the sparring a mere week six days ago, Naruto found himself closer to the answers that had plagued him since their arrival at Konoha.
He’d been used, at the very beginning. As soon as he had realised that to have been the case, that the necklace which was still strung around his neck may well have been nothing more than an emotional leash, he was saddened. Deeply saddened, that Tsunade had gone to such lengths to disguise her actions, to make her machinations in protecting the village appear to be the logical conclusion of the external world.
She’d found out about the demons. Between her and the then-Kazekage, they decided to send them in warning. It failed. They didn’t know what to do. So they moved the entire village.
He should have been angry to have finally figured it out, but he couldn’t blame Tsunade. She had done her best to protect the village. He was still alive. She played a dangerous game, and it had paid off. No losses of life, other than those eight markers framed by grass.
They’d been let in too easily because she knew better than to lose them. Knew better than to compromise the village’s safety. She knew they were there the moment they came on to the shore. He was an idiot for failing to recognise it.
Which lead him, inevitably, back to whether Gaara knew. If Gaara knew and hadn’t told him, then what they had was nothing more than a lie.
The click of a key in the door made him brighten his face into a welcoming smile.
His birthday was not something he had ever really celebrated until Sakura and Hinata decided to make a large fuss about it. It had pleased him at the time, but now, with all the complications surrounding his recent discovery, one he couldn’t throw in Tsunade’s face, and Gaara’s supposed betrayal and Sasuke’s unwillingness to answer questions but continued baiting, he was far too occupied to think. Never mind enjoy his birthday.
Still, like the past five years, there would be a table at a restaurant, undoubtedly the Gold Isle knowing Hinata and Sakura’s taste, and they would all eat together.
Gaara had left this morning, leaving him with a lingering green-eyed gaze. He didn’t do birthdays, but that certainly did not surprise him. Naruto was beginning to hate being surrounded by emotional cripples.
In his mind though, are images of Sasuke’s birthday, and he only wishes himself to be that lucky.
Sasuke doesn’t know what to do. He hasn’t bought someone a birthday present for years, he feels out of practise.
He received the invitation to dinner at the Gold Isle two days ago, detailing that he’d be joining Hinata, Neji, Sakura & Lee as well as Gaara at seven in celebration of Naruto’s birthday.
He browsed the stores, slowly, inspecting potential gifts for pitfalls. The streets petered out, and still he had not found anything. Memories of his own birthday, the stolen kiss flitted through his mind, distracting him from the task.
He wanted to ask someone for advice, but he didn’t think he would be happy with their suggestions. Nor did he want to hear the truth, that they knew him better than he did. He only had himself to blame for that, even if they missed the most important aspects of his nature, even if no one understood him at the deepest as well as Naruto did.
Sasuke is as close to desperate as he would ever admit himself to be, but mainly because this has everything to do with what Naruto means to him, and the reason why he is here. He won’t tell Naruto, but he’s prepared to leave him clues.
He was beginning to panic. It was already noon, and he still didn’t have anything. Three hours of browsing, and he didn’t know what to buy.
He was running out of options, he thought there might be another small street of stores he could look at. A small antique shop waited in front of him. On any other occasion, he may well have passed it by, but now he stepped up to it, hoping that there was something he could find to give Naruto the same feeling he had when he’d seen the kuchiyose.
It was dark and musty in the small room, filled to brimming with valuables worth nothing and something. A bell rang as the door swung closed. An old lady cautiously scuttled forward, and seeing him stepped behind the counter to greet him warmly.
“Good afternoon, can I help you sir?” she rattled off, and Sasuke wondered when and how he’d become a sir rather than a boy, or young man.
“I’m looking for something for a friend, it’s his birthday today.” Sasuke cast a gaze around the room, filtering out portraits, landscapes, small carved toys and glazed figurines.
“Well, perhaps you should take a look around, if you see anything you would like help with, just call for me.” He nodded in reply.
He could see a little path led behind the tall stack at the front, picking his way he came upon glass cabinets filled with ivory and semi-precious stones. Then, further along, another glass cabinet, stacked with old games.
Sasuke stopped here, eyes falling on a cherry wood box, polished to a perfect sheen, the check pattern holding painted symbols. He recognised it as an ancient game, Court, mixing the idea of opposing forces with domination of territory.
“Madam?” he called towards the counter, turning his eyes back to the game. His parents used to play it in the evening; they’d always sent him to bed when his father approached with the game in hand.
“Yes?” The lady bobbed on her feet, jade necklace swinging wildly.
“Could I have a look at this game please?”
“Of course.” She produced a key; pulling out the game once the glass door had been slid back, then handing it to him. He nodded at her once more in thanks, feeling the smooth wood under his hand, smelling the slight scent that emanated from the wood. A small filigree gold clasp opened to reveal the various tiny figurines that made up the game. He was impressed at the level of detail, the tiny brushstrokes that made up the decoration along the edges, as well as the ruby silk that covered the inside. “This is a fine specimen; you have a keen eye to have spotted it.”
He didn’t really hear her words, just said, “I’ll take it.”
“Ah, it doesn’t come cheap.” She warned.
“I know. I’ll take it.”
“I’ve sold this to many old men and women, usually they come in together to purchase something. They always fall in love with old versions of this game.” Sasuke’s eyes snapped up to the woman, though she had her back to him, heading to the counter where she wrapped the gift for him in tissue paper, then gave it to him in a gold patterned box.
The price flashed up on the till, but he didn’t pay it much attention, paying, saying his thanks and leaving, glad to have found something to produce this evening.
Evening approached, and Naruto fixed the shirt on his neck into place once more. His tails behind him twitched agitatedly, a reminder that even if he did push his anxieties to the back of his mind, someone would notice if he did not control himself.
Taking a deep breath, Naruto headed towards the door, aware that Gaara hadn’t returned from work. Unless he’d gone back to his own place, either way Naruto didn’t let it bother him, moving down the hallway steadily, out of the block of apartments towards the Gold Isle.
The air was cool, noticeably even though it was warmer than the old Konoha would have been. Strange to consider how easily the body acclimatised to change in weather, to change in life.
It’d felt as if he’d been with Gaara for ages - and on some level he didn’t doubt that they had once met in other shapes - it also felt as if Sasuke had always been back, as if it wasn’t still something he was getting used to.
Being complacent, he knew, would open him to betrayal, to deceit by green-eyed smiles. Allowing himself to be pushed around, allowing himself to be kept in the dark would only lead to disaster, to chaos, to the death of someone.
Thoughts whirling in his head like the pollen on the playful wind, Naruto stepped with some urgency towards the Gold Isle, unsure of everything, knowing that he was haphazardly balancing on the edge of something momentous.
He was ready.
They were so young, but time had taught them not to take its passing lightly.
Hinata looked in the mirror once more, brushing down eyebrows, running a careful hand through sleek black hair, fixing her evening wear into place, moving jewellery back into place. Her heart was beating at a furious pace, but on the outside she was calm.
“Hinata?” Neji appeared behind her, cleanly dressed, hair tied loosely behind him as usual.
“I’m ready.” She replied. He came towards her, she turned to face him, and he took her bejewelled hands in his, pulling her towards him until their foreheads touched - though he still wore the bandages. Though not for much longer.
“You’re beautiful.” He didn’t know what else to say. What could he say, without embarrassing her efforts? He could only reassure her. And he could only damn Naruto for being so unaware.
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, Neji could see opal, like he expected, but less like the colour of opal, more of the brittle hardness of opal stone. Precious.
He found her coat & the gift, and off they went, sliding silk doors shut.
Sakura and Lee stood at the bar of the restaurant, early because they had tired of their parents. Ever since they had become engaged, their parents had insisted on meeting all the time to become closer. While they appreciated the effort they were making to integrate, they really did want to spend some time alone. So they escaped.
Lee’s hand felt warm in the small of her back. The protective gesture made her feel warm all over, slowed the pace of her breathing until she felt adrift in a void. Everything felt softer, as if she would fall but for his steadying strength. Her stomach flushed with heat, a gentle internal sway like the nourishing sea, a thickening of the blood, of sea-broth. Tears threatened for some reason; she supposed she never imagined happiness and love could feel this good, this painful.
“Sakura, Lee!” the spell was broken as they both turned to see Hinata and Neji. “You’re early!” came Hinata’s surprised smile. Neji returned Lee’s nod.
“Just warming up to the party. A drink while we wait for everyone else?” Sakura replied, banishing the sensual thoughts drifting to the base of her spine.
Naruto was the last to arrive. He was glad; he didn’t want to watch the awkward greeting of Gaara and Sasuke at the table. At least this way he could pretend it had never happened.
Everyone looked well-dressed; perhaps the most gratifying aspect of this entire evening is that they had all made an effort to celebrate the passing of another year with him.
And yet he found it difficult to summon a genuine-looking smile, one that would fool even Gaara & Sasuke. As he was directed to the table, he took in the seating arrangement. This time the restaurant was emptier; it was a Monday after all, and for many people this was the end of a period of mourning for the older generation; the entire village was still quieter than usual.
Pretending all the time was growing old, and he knew Gaara disapproved - even if he insisted on not caring at this very moment.
A space for him had been left between Hinata and Sasuke. Lee was sitting next to Sasuke, Sakura on Lee’s right, and then came Gaara, then Neji who as usual was sat next to Hinata. Naruto relaxed, smoothed, felt better at seeing the volatiles parted, even if Gaara would be unforgiving because he wasn’t blind. Just deeply prejudiced against any species he didn’t care for.
Before he could get to the table, Sakura spotted him, rising midway to greet him, causing five pairs of eyes, all different, to swivel towards him. Stepping up to the table he gave Sakura a quick hug, then round to Hinata to repeat. He didn’t miss their spectacular beauty, and something in him shifted slightly, a growing awareness once more of the thing in his blind spot, something he kept missing, something he felt he could catch; something he instinctively knew but subconsciously suppressed.
Chatter grew around the table as he was congratulated, voices flooding him with sounds all too quickly, and all of a sudden euphoria gripped him, stress and anxieties leaving him as he truly smiled, as he began to enjoy himself.
Hinata and Sakura skilfully kept the conversation going, light and unobtrusive as they ate; Gaara related some stories from his recent travels Naruto hadn’t heard before and Neji and Sasuke argued about the pros and cons of the new foldable shuriken.
He revelled in it. This is how he had wanted it from the beginning, the laughter, the conversation, the good company that came willingly, which forced him to celebrate like any other being.
As dessert ended, and the evening drew towards midnight, he received his first gift from Neji and Hinata, an old book they had in their study he had discovered. Every time he went there and had to wait on Hinata to finish getting ready, he would read the aged tome, half-encyclopaedia half-fiction of timeless myths.
He laughed as he saw it.
“We thought as he was always reading that particular one, we may as well give it to him.” Hinata explained the significance of the book to the rest.
“But what am I supposed to read now while I wait for you two?” Naruto mock-complained. “Thanks, you two, so much.” He kissed Hinata on the cheek.
“Well, here you go Naruto. Another year over.”
“Thanks.” Naruto accepted the small, neatly-wrapped package. Opening it revealed a wooden box, and Naruto couldn’t hide the surprised smile that graced his face. “Seriously Sakura? I would’ve thought…” it was as he had thought, a box of light cigars.
“Yes, yes, I know. But if you’re going to insist on smoking something occasionally, at least make it these rather than those disgusting ones Jiraiya always pawns off on you.” Her nose crinkled in disgust as she recalled the awful smell and smoke those produced. She couldn’t imagine where Jiraiya found them, or had thought it even remotely appropriate to introduce Naruto to them. But the Sannins were by no means normal, and Sakura was only just beginning to appreciate how sly Tsunade could be.
“You know I only do it at special events. I’ve never actually bought my own!” he laughed. “Thank you, both of you, thanks.” He offered them around the table, all of the men taking one. “Ah, this is a very good day.” Naruto laughed heartily, puffing away contentedly.
“Well, Happy Birthday Naruto.” Sasuke finally said, bringing up the box. Naruto felt it, then, despite the smoke, the lingering happiness had suddenly gained a slight tension at the fringes. He accepted the box, surprised at the weight of it.
He was being watched for his reaction. Dragging on the cigar slightly, he opened the box, pulling out the glossy box in the middle. Just out of his right eye, he could see a slight pull on Sasuke’s forehead, a bracing.
“Sasuke?” He asked, unsure of what it was. It looked like a game; he was sure he had seen Shikamaru play it once a long time ago.
“It’s a game called Court. Very old.” He replied, still taut.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, opening the small gold clasp at the front. He could appreciate the beautiful art, the careful stroke of deer-brush on the wood with shellac. “Are there instructions? Or you’ll have to teach me how to play it Sasuke. It’s beau-” opening the box he saw the detailed carvings of the tiny figures, the semi-precious stones that had been used, the burgundy silk which covered it.
A small pause enveloped the table as they waited on Naruto to finish his spoken thoughts. Naruto suddenly felt ill, it had nothing to do with the cigars, just the sudden feeling of an exudation of heat from the box.
“I don’t know what to say, Sasuke. It’s amazing.” Then quieter, “It’s too much.” But he knew Sasuke could hear him. He ignored the glare from Gaara, even if it was subtly disguised. He ignored the slight hints of jealousy from Sakura and Hinata, who felt as if they had been outdone by a traitor they had yet to fully reconcile themselves with. He had yet to thank Sasuke in a way that would remotely convey his feelings on the matter, but Sasuke knew in any case, was secure in that knowledge. He could tell in the way he smirked, a light tilt of the mouth even Sakura would be able to recognize if she cared to look. “Thank You.”
The lateness of the evening was beginning to sink in, he felt overwhelmed.
“Naruto.” Gaara called for his attention. “Here.” He held out a scroll, in the style of Gaara, unwrapped. The fact that he had even brought him a gift meant something, though Naruto wasn’t sure what it truly meant.
“Thanks.” The hesitance and bewildered tone in his voice conveyed his surprise. Opening the scroll, he was met with the sight of lushly painted scenes of battle, a story scroll relating the loss of two countries at the fury of a lone demon in its prime. His heartbeat stilled for endless seconds as his eyes skated forwards, skimming the page for the core of the matter. Horror and satisfaction at the story warred to unsettle him; Gaara’s gift was a reminder above all of their dual nature. Not something he wanted to be reminded of, at this very moment. Thankfully it was not a description of either of their demons; it would have been a difficult situation to explain away. “Thanks Gaara.” Addressing the rest, “Trust Gaara’s present to reflect current events; he’s a Kazekage to the very bone.”
Gaara smiled, but Naruto had seen his smiles, it was different from unimpeded laughter on dawn-lit beaches, this was a smile that hid dark longings, an obsession.
“Oh, I think it is time we go, they are closing up!” Hinata exclaimed.
“We’ll get the bill. Have a nice night Naruto, everyone else. Come Hinata.” A chorus of thanks accompanied them to the bar where they paid. Sakura and Lee expressed their thanks and left too, leaving Naruto with Sasuke and Gaara.
He eyed them over the table. Gave a final puff on the cigar, and stubbed it out. Gathering his gifts, he rose, stepped back from the table and smiled a fine line of white teeth at them both.
“See you tomorrow, thanks for the gifts.”
Gaara watched the sunset, thoughts in complete disarray as a set, but in their individual wholes clear as mountain water filtered through the stones of the ages. He watched the sun set, the gradual drawing down of blinds on the southern side of Konoha, the emergence of stars.
Just thinking.
It was too late for him. He was too far gone down one path, the reflex thoughts had been burnt into his neurons. He couldn’t change now, even though the sleep was enough strength to keep control. He could only warn Naruto of the same, but the motive behind that was as twisted as the demon that sat behind the weakening fences. The skyline beckoned him, the horizon drifting ever forward, an endless, timeless appeal that resonated within him. He would not leave, he would not die, he would not lose what he wanted. What was his. What he had allowed to become his, once that occurred no one could take it away.
He had pushed it too far with the gift, hadn’t dared to go back. That didn’t mean that he was not aware of Naruto’s movements, he’d been to see Sasuke. They had played their game every day as Naruto was sucked ever deeper into mastering it. He was beginning to resent Sasuke’s interference, one that was dragging its ugly mark across his relationship with Naruto.
The night was cool, the humid stickiness settled into the bones of the people here very quickly. The desert dryness of his sand was beginning to be compromised.
This isn’t the way Sasuke had thought it would go. Kakashi had suddenly appeared and had insisted on talking to him over lunch. In fact, Sasuke thought the very experience, if not pushed to the very back of his mind, may very well have haunted him.
Kakashi seemed unchanged. Still characteristically lazy, a dog-eared copy of Icha Icha Paradise tucked into the top pocket of his flak vest. Mask still covering the lower half of his face, the lop-sided, battered Konoha forehead protector firmly in place. His gait was still that of an unruffled, sedated old man, which ultimately belied the true speed at which Sasuke had seen him move.
It was a time warp, not even the shock of white hair had changed.
An odd decoration in his house, Sasuke began to fix lunch, not at ease with Kakashi here because he suddenly realised that he felt he owed the man an explanation.
Kakashi flicked through his book as he waited, not willing to speak until they had eaten because that seemed the best way to establish the right atmosphere required for such a delicate subject. He wasn’t his sensei anymore, but he still owed him something, he was the only other link left to an illustrious history.
It created bonds he would otherwise never have thought to consider. He would honour them, and play the older, wiser uncle.
A draft of late-October air pushed the smell of fresh-cooked food through the house. It gave an illusionary image of homey-ness. They both knew better. They both had not experienced a feeling of home since their youngest years.
Kakashi felt he had failed the boy somehow, not that he was sure where, because he had thought he had done everything in his power to keep him there. Even if he understood why he had left.
“We can eat.” Sasuke, subdued, nearing sullen reported. Kakashi pocketed the novel, helping him serve up the table. They ate in silence, quiet and efficient.
“Thank You.” Kakashi pushed his bowl to the side. Sasuke only nodded in reply, face blank of all emotions. “So. The never-ending saga between you and Naruto.” Kakashi paused, hoping that somewhere Sasuke would decide to make his life easier and talk back.
“Pardon?” Sasuke replied. Kakashi’s lips curved under the fabric into a smirk. When all else failed, falling back onto his high-born nature was a comfort to Sasuke.
“You know what I mean. You’d be surprised at what I know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The beginning of an ill-tempered partner to this dialogue.
“It’s only been five years. My memory is not that bad. That said, it has been five years. You two should just get to the end of whatever it is you’re playing at. Don’t delay. You should know that. If anything, I would have thought any time spent with Orochimaru would have taught you that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sasuke was beginning to realize that the old man definitely saw more with that one eye than he did with his two. Was it experience?
“Yes, you do. Stop playing around.” This short conversation was beginning to take its toll on Kakashi. He didn’t particularly enjoy having to guide an obstinate youth no matter what the obligations and self-imposed duties.
“Fine. It isn’t any of your business.” Sasuke snapped.
“It is if you are going to try and kill each other again.”
“That doesn’t appear to work.” He replied, flippantly.
“Good. See you around, Sasuke. Here’s my number in case you want something.” Kakashi placed a card on the table, shifting it to the side. Standing up he made a lazy salute, and left via the door.
Sasuke sat at the table, alternately cursing the dead relative who’d given Kakashi that false sense of obligation, and inventively, expressively cursing Kakashi’s gift of sight.
He relaxed back into the chair, the game of Court falling into his line of sight. They were in the middle of a game and at the moment neither truly had the upper-hand. They were equal.
The second dawn propelled Gaara into action. Going along the streets of Konoha, he reached the edge, the perimeter of Sasuke’s estate. He made his way towards the house, knocking at the door with measured strokes.
A few moments later it was opened by Sasuke, clearly woken from sleep. He was alert though, and at the sight of Gaara on his doorstep, his mind began to calculate various options.
He wasn’t that fast yet.
Nothing was said. Sasuke decided to break the silence.
“And?” he challenged, a dangerous insolence, which set the slow burn of sands in the cradle of Gaara’s eyes alight.
“Sasuke.” Gaara acknowledged, sweeping a contemptuous eye over the figure in front of him. “Despite what you may think, Naruto is mine. You don’t understand him. You don’t know him as I do. You have lost. You will not succeed. You do not have the strength to take him from me, and I will crush you should you be as insolent to try. I believe you have failed.” The timbre of the voice fluctuated, the tones of an obsessive maniac on the edge of complete and utter loss of control. He vibrated on the spot, as if ready to attack, and Sasuke knew that everything depended on his next words. He’d be able to see it, but he wouldn’t be fast enough to avoid it.
“I know.” The flare in Gaara’s eyes subsided. Leaving him with a dark, green-eyed, piercing look, Gaara of the Sand moved towards Naruto’s home.
Sasuke watched, unsure of the outcome of tonight.
Naruto woke at the opening of his front door. Quick footsteps marched towards him, and Naruto relaxed, knowing it to be Gaara. Though he was uncertain how much longer he could continue this, tonight would be like the other nights.
Gaara emerged in the doorway, as Naruto had come to notice, the darkness bent towards him, as if in homage to the dark creature he hid behind refined, sand-smoothed features. Naruto wondered sometimes if the darkness bent towards him too.
For a timeless second, Gaara remained standing, visibly agitated. “Naruto.” He croaked, and it was the emotion, the need, the plaintive call of his name on those lips that made Naruto melt, reminded him of home and earth, instead of its iron clasp.
“Come.” Naruto sat up, beckoning him towards him, opening his arms in welcome.
“It’s too late for me.” He mumbled, though Naruto heard him.
“Come.” Naruto repeated, and Gaara came towards him, clothes making the hissing sound of silk upon silk as they ribbon-ed down to the carpet. Naked, Gaara climbed onto the bed, into Naruto’s arms, and as they closed around him, arms that closed around his back, the smooth feel of skin upon skin, and as they did this, Gaara kissed Naruto’s neck hungrily, with all his might, sucking slightly to leave a bruise which blossomed and withered in moments.
But his mark had been there. Was that enough? It was enough, so he told himself.
“I love you.” He says. Naruto nods, in understanding. Mouths near each other, kiss tentatively, then openly, a greeting of lips that had lost touch.
Naruto’s hand on his back sooths as they kiss, as they slowly lay down, heads meeting pillows as they caress each other. Slow, gentle caresses that lull them to sleep.
And on the bridge between wakefulness and sleep, Gaara says: “You’re mine, right?”
And on the bridge between wakefulness and sleep, Naruto does not reply.
But they slept and Gaara closed eyes that felt the weakness of tears for the first time in over a decade.
Naruto woke fully, totally, eyes opening onto total blackness, a smooth blackness he has seen before. It is familiar to him, too familiar, and it only takes him a moment to recognise it, for the cloud of claustrophobia to descend on his mind. Struggling to keep it at bay, he pushes at Gaara next to him, shaking him frantically, shouting now to tell him to stop. The blood in his arteries begins to pump around his body harder, preparing for the inevitable shift, and Naruto breathes harder, edging on hyperventilation as he sucks in the smell of bloodied desert sand.
The bed caught on fire immediately. Naruto directed a blast of jutsu fire at the ceiling, hoping it to be thinner there, to use a hot enough heat to turn it into molten glass that would obey the laws of gravity and pour down. Allowing him to escape.
The haze of the burning carpet creates a noxious fume, one he is desperate to escape; the fire becomes hotter, though he doesn’t feel it, just sees it in the way orange turns to red, turns to blue, turns to purple, and turns invisible.
Gaara wakes, the entire dome collapsing, sand spreading to protect the room from the fire. He bolts up, sheets of glass on his left side sliding off raw-pink skin to break on the floor. A terrified glance at Naruto, and he escapes from the room.
Naruto did not follow.
Instead, he pulled on some slacks, one of the few things in his cupboard that had survived the charring effects. Padding over the sand, he left the apartment, not aware of the siren call of the fire brigade.
He did not wander the streets. He headed, directly, to Sasuke, mind blank.
Naruto knocked at the door, pacing in the path, fists clenching, jaw grinding as he calmed himself down.
The door opened, revealing a pissed-off looking Sasuke. Naruto did not give him time to ask questions, wanting only one thing, wanting only to test the shape of their bodies against each other. He pushed him through the door, closing it behind him. Sasuke’s eyes were alert, his nose smelling smoke, the hint of which recalled memories of sitting around a campfire.
Naruto approached him, circling momentarily, eyeing him in the way that reminded him of the creature within him. Slow dance of the panther, sleek like the cats he called using the kuchiyose.
Sasuke pulled Naruto to him, trapping him in an embrace that revealed the regret of five lost years. Revealed the depths of his love, not healthy, but more balanced than what Gaara had offered, and Naruto took it, kissing him hungrily, pulling off the t-shirt Sasuke had worn to bed. The attraction between them was unbelievably strong. Naruto pinned him to the wall, trapping him against it, thanking and punishing him for every stolen, for every forced kiss.
They said, I want you.
They said, I need you, I can’t live without you, I’ve missed you -oh fuck, oh gods I love you. Be mine. You’re mine. Their kisses spoke all of this, spoke all of this and more, and somehow they made it to the bed. Sasuke clutched at the full head of blond hair, twisting it harshly in his grasp, aroused, feeling the depth of Naruto’s arousal against his stomach as he bent him back to suck hungrily at an exposed neck, the culmination of a thousand late night thoughts. Branding a thousand flowers indelibly into Naruto’s skin, who scratched unmercifully at his chest, rubbing unforgivingly at the tender flesh of his nipples, mewling and growling at the force of Sasuke’s passion.
Naruto’s eyes flashed red as he gripped at Sasuke’s hair, burying his hands achingly into his scalp, satisfied at hearing the low moan uttered at the caress of his head. Bending low, he licked slowly at his ear, breathing, glad to hear the hitched breathing, then hissed low and meaningful into Sasuke’s ear, reinforcing the words of his lips with a tug of his hair: “You’re mine, you’re mine.” Sasuke stilled under him, harsh pants breaching the air. Sharingan eyes met the red flush of Naruto’s eyes. He pulled at the light-gold strands wrapped around his hand, pulling Naruto closer so he could whisper in his ear, dark vibrations pooling in every single nook of Naruto’s spine to spit fire at his nerves as he heard: “You’re mine, mine.”
He crushed their lips together once more as he slowly began to rotate his hips into Sasuke’s lap. Feeling tight, unbelievably tight, and elated, the heavy musk of sex settled into the air, silk sheets cool to the touch of burning bodies. Naruto loosened his hold on Sasuke’s hair, kissing slowly, the rub of tongues against each other, the slow sensual rub a reminder of things to come. Naruto’s tails weaved wildly behind him, sensitive to the hum of bodies, puffed up. Sasuke took hold of Naruto’s buttocks, massaging sun-bronzed skin, moving upwards to touch the base of his tail, the place where the bundle of nerves gathered to go upwards, massaging that spot as if he had always known it to be sensitive, and Naruto fell apart in his arms, weakened, barely able to breathe, unbearably hard, left whimpering. Sasuke kissed his lips, his blushing cheeks, the corner of his eye, the middle of his forehead, wherever he could reach as he enjoyed the humid tangle of limbs. The hint of fire left on Naruto’s skin blurred his senses.
Sasuke pushed Naruto to the side, leaning over him, licking his lips with a gentle swipe of the tongue, nibbling down his jaw as red-blue eyes watched on. Sucking damply at a pulse which fluttered at contact, further down to a gleaming expanse of gold-brown chest, topped with nipples which stretched and hardened under his tongue, his nimble and deft hands.
Hands caressed his sides, moving to edge the boundary of skin with fabric, where slacks hung limply on hips. Sasuke’s hands wandered down, brushing the flickering seal on Naruto’s stomach, going further to grasp the slick length hidden in the folds of dark fabric, his own throbbing in sympathy as Naruto’s hips rose to thrust in his weak hold. His nose nuzzled the soft skin between hip and the triangular area above his hot need, a moan emanating from Naruto as he did so, a sudden tightening of hands in his hair. He pulled down the slacks, enough to reveal swollen flesh. Climbing back up, allowing Naruto to dally his kisses under his jaw, he rummaged in the bedside table, feeling for lube, shutting it as he found it while Naruto’s hands dropped to his boxer shorts, helping him rid himself of the clothing. Pressing down to feel delicious friction as they glided over each other, a raw appraisal of each other’s need.
Touching lips once more, slick fingers snaked down between virgin thighs that opened willingly, touching, pressing, entering, raising the heat between them another notch as fingers opened Naruto to more, moans continuously splintering the air, cleaving it in two.
Positioning himself, Sasuke looked into Naruto’s eyes, eyes that were wholly blue, colour of the sky, of the sea on its best day, and further in the fiery currents that had pulled him in, the reason why he was here, why he was home. Why he had built, and all these thoughts crowded into his head, with the overwhelming need to finally complete this, and so he did, pushing into slick heat, ankles crossing behind his back to pull bodies flush together as Naruto adjusted, his head thrown back in celebration of this moment. Sasuke found it unbearably difficult to hold still, to wait until he nodded before continuing, setting the slow and gentle pace of their lovemaking, the slow roll of hips into Naruto who greeted it with the widening of his thighs; a low moan which rumbled out of the very depths of his spine, upwards, humming and gathering strength as it burst forward, enveloping them both. It felt so right.
Reaching between their bodies, Sasuke gripped tightly onto Naruto, running a thumb over his hardness as they kissed open-mouthed, urging him to come. The delicious pressure and heat that surrounded Sasuke, the change of angle that brought the low-pitched rumble into a higher-pitched moan, the noise that made Sasuke thrust one last time in completion, a warm rush over his hand and tight clenching of muscles proof that this had always meant to be.
As they began to breathe again, nestled in each other’s arms, the smell of sex permeating the room, the tang of fire left on Naruto’s skin still remaining, Sasuke brought his hand up to Naruto’s face, cupping a cheek, kissing lips tenderly, reverently. They nodded off to sleep.
It was only a brief sleep, a recharging of expended energy that had left them cat-lazy. Eyes opened from beyond the haze, Naruto stretching in Sasuke’s clasp, loosening arms. Sasuke watched him, languid dark lashes and dishevelled hair leaving him with a debauched look, one that caused Naruto to harden at the very sight of it.
Mimicking Sasuke’s earlier action, he brought a hand up to Sasuke’s cheek, intending to kiss him just as gently, only to have Sasuke shift his head on the pillow slightly, sucking in the longest digit of his hand, laving it with the rough swipe of his tongue.
Finding the lube, efficiently slicking himself with it, he brought two fingers to Sasuke, whose legs fell open just as his had. Complete and utter trust, not even a betraying hitch. Dark eyes watched him, seeing colour instead of red, seeing as it occurred rather than before. A leg brought up to a shoulder, tenderly kissed, then the lining up of hips as Naruto steadily entered, giving Sasuke a moment to accommodate this new feeling. One of fullness. Of belonging. Of completion. The amazing friction as Naruto moved torturously slow, burning wide bands of fire up his spine, causing a tingle across his entire body.
Leaving Sasuke coherent enough only to say one thing: “You’re the reason.” And Naruto understood.
Naruto is lost, even though he is grounded, adrift in emotions he cannot possibly describe, the temporary eternality of this moment imprinted on his mind. Sasuke’s eyes call on him to be harder, to run rough fingertips across pale skin, to leave a bruise in the shape of his emotions, urging him to go deeper. A haze drifts across their eyes, kissing life-breath into each other as they moaned and lost consciousness, coming in the multitude of emotions that engulfed them.
Naruto woke with a smile that quickly waned as the full extent of last night came to mind. Then ignored, it now bit at the core of his consciousness. Gaara. The dawn light filtered into the room, dappled by the trees that blew their moist tang into the room on the eaves of the wind’s wings.
Shifting out of the bed, Naruto found his slacks and pulled them on, spine cracking as he bent over, the pull of muscles over his back evidence of last night. He could smell Sasuke on him, the mix of their sex, calming him.
Sasuke woke, eyes opening alert, immediately aware of the lack of a body next to him. He sat up as he saw Naruto circumvent the bed, unsure of where this left them.
“Naruto?” his voice, husky-hoarse, toyed at the shell of Naruto’s ears. “Don’t leave.”
Naruto had only one thing left to do.
“I promise I’ll be back.” He said, eyes deeply serious, pressing a lingering kiss to Sasuke’s lips. Then he disappeared. But Sasuke wasn’t worried.
He’d come back. He had a reason.
THE END
A few last words:
Thanks go out to a few people. First of all Letta (whose fics I’m sure you’ve read!) who helped me out with my plan, and whose analysis of its last section was invaluable in bringing the fic to its ending. Thank you, so much!
Thanks to all of you who reviewed, all the constructive criticism I received which I hope (hope!) has made me a better writer. Thank you!
To the staff at COLLIDE who recommended this fic with such an amazing (and perhaps overly-flattering! Hehe!) description - it was an honour, and I hope it lived up to your expectations.
I can’t actually believe it is over. I'm worried I've left some huge plot hole...ack!
Thanks for reading.
Starapple/Martinique
Note: If you want to know what happens to one character in particular, read Epilogue: At Home which is posted before this one.