Post by thia on Oct 1, 2011 23:12:14 GMT -1
The past is pain, a saccharine recollection drizzled with regret. Taste it on your tongue, and it can be a delectable trip into nostalgia, the bitter flavor of memory--all mingled into a torture of delight. Like ying and yang, my memories were inseparable bliss and agony, two entities that co-existed within reminiscence. Human and demon--myself and the nine-tailed demon dormant within me shared the same duality as my memories, though if it was at all correlated eluded me.
Even now, amidst the most intoxicating experience, my mind taints it with the past. Those adept and precise hands know the exact touches to elicit a sigh of pleasure, even channeling bits of chakra to enhance the sensations further. Each caress of his lips blended against my own with such a perfect rhythm, feeling as if he gave back everything he took from me… and oh gods, his kisses were like the waters of heaven. It was so effortless and beautifully thoughtless, the welcome surrender of just feeling everything and taking it all in--I could savor the sweet taste of him, delicious and ambrosial unlike anything I could have dreamed of. The mutual craving that burned in his blood, in some aspects, was even more desperate than my own. It was oddly comforting to know he desired me--the inconsequential failure who blundered in everything--as heartily as I did him. He was perfection, as talented as he was handsome… I was absolutely inferior to him, for I was neither a prodigy nor blessed with the exquisite beauty he was. But from the way a low sigh would purr in his throat every now and then, this was one thing I could do well.
He held onto me so tightly, even as his fingertips curiously explored my skin in a way that caused a white-hot flame to lace through my veins--foreign, unadulterated lust that was almost frightening in its intensity. Somehow the feeling of his hands running down my skin felt even more intimate than the closeness of our bodies or the ardency of our kisses, which deepened with each moment. The first time I had felt my tongue meet warm muscle, an unexpected but pleasurable zing had shot through my entire body. It had been enough of a surprise that we broke apart from just a moment, staring at one another in bewildered--albeit pleased--shock. A mischievous giggle later, we experimented with the same touch again, tongues dancing together in a battle for dominance. I swore I heard him murmur my name between his hushed breaths, though it could have also been the wind twisting around the sound of it. The night was utter tranquility and silence, the sounds of our kisses and heavy breathing seeming to thunder in our quiet room.
Heavy breathing… why did this awaken bittersweet despair, causing rebellious tears to burn the corners of my eyes even as my body responded with arousal?
He sounded just the same the last time we fought, my mind whispered.
Crumpled to the stone beneath me, Sasuke stared at me with a peculiar hatred and pain in his eyes that, as furious as I was, still caused my heart to ache. His porcelain face was now littered with blooming bruises and cuts, but even then he maintained his dignity unwaveringly.
“Wake up, Sasuke!” I pleaded, despising every punch I gave him, loathing how stoic his expression remained despite his pain… I knew polite reasoning couldn’t reach him anymore, but still, I hated that I had to resort to such cruel methods. His lust for power had twisted his perceptions, making even comrades appear to be foes. He was practically intoxicated with his own cravings like a drunk and his liquid vice, no longer satisfied with “mere” friendship. Friendship was the sweetness of chocolate, a brief indulgence that only a child can truly savor. Vengeance, however, was the rich complexity of wine, the subtle pleasure of its flavors on your tongue an unforgettable thing. Sasuke craved this more “adult “ indulgence, believing he could be better satisfied when hatred drove his steps. Orochimaru’s honeyed lies were the perfect lure for Sasuke, the seductive vows he spoke making ideas like “friends” or “comrade” seem like the wishes of a fool.
At first, I’d wanted desperately to believe he was kidding, that all of this was just a sick joke on his part. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d threatened me before. But… as I met the pure hatred in his scarlet eyes, I knew this was different. He had scowled at me in the past with an irritation I knew I deserved, but there had always been just a tinge of amusement beneath his frown. It was the ever so slight flash of laughter that only a careful look at his eyes could have revealed--he was always skilled at hiding his emotions everywhere else, save for in those eyes that were such a significant part of him. This assured me that he wasn’t truly angry with me, no matter what words he said in contradiction.
His eyes now… they were foreign, almost inhuman. It was like staring a cobra right in the eye before it struck you--cold, hateful, and bloodlust seeming to burn right below the surface. Cobra… one of the deadliest snakes…at once, I realized with horror that already Orochimaru was manifesting himself in Sasuke.
No, no, I didn’t want to remember this… please, don’t make me think about this…
“Naruto?”
Blinking several times, I realized I was still in the deep shadows of Sasuke’s room, with the said owner gazing down on me with apprehension etched into his features. I couldn’t dredge up any words to say, for my mind wondered which Sasuke I was with now--the one I had fallen in love with so long ago, or the one who had tried to kill me with such ease?
His eyes… look at his eyes, Naruto…
Ebony. Not scarlet, but a deep black hue. No hatred in those eyes, but instead only concern and a appealing sort of disorientation as he tried to focus even as lust clouded his senses. He grew more anxious as I merely laid there beneath him, struggling to figure out where reality and memory disentangled themselves--and to avoid mentioning what I had been thinking about. Under the influence of Orochimaru’s mark when he‘d done most of it, I knew Sasuke wouldn’t remember everything he’d done back then. I reminded myself of this, but even so, I felt the corners of my eyes burning rebelliously.
To my surprise, Sasuke ran a hand affectionately along the curve of my jaw, the calming effect immediate as my body settled once again into a warm sort of bliss, the muscles that had tensed with the sudden dive into my memories beginning to relax. His eyes softened just a bit as he noticed this reaction, the smallest of smiles curving his lips as the worry evaporated from his expression.
That’s all done and over with--don’t dwell on it, and just take things as they happen. You and he have both changed--you’ve wanted this for so long, so don’t ruin it!
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I replied at last, forcing as much nonchalance into my tone as I could, but the way it shook seemed to correlate with the … well, the annoying water in my eyes, I lied to myself. Judging from how Sasuke’s eyes narrowed skeptically in response, he wasn’t fooled for a moment by my words. Sighing in an unintentionally alluring way and pulling away from me, he ran a hand lazily through his raven-hued hair in what I’d come to identify as embarrassment--though Sasuke tried to hide it, once again his eyes betrayed his attempt to hide his emotions.
He sat down crossed-legged near my feet, so I had to crane my head around my thighs and knees to be able to see him. An unbidden whine of protest escaped from my throat before I could catch it, and I tried to get up several times. Being the perpetual clumsy shinobi that I was, this quickly proved fruitless--finally, I just let myself fall onto my back like before, staring at the ceiling as I waited for him to explain.
Meeting my eyes briefly before staring determinedly at his balled fists in front of him, he said with an increasing blush in his cheeks, “I know I kinda… started all of this and… you know, it’s not like I really asked if you even wanted to. So I can understand if you’re weirded out or something, with it being me, being a guy…”
He had a startling amount of difficulty saying all of this, as if word slowly ripped apart something inside him. The way he seemed to hate saying it made several things click in my head once, all of them comforting, but none of them seeming right.
He wanted this as desperately as I did.
He was willing to stop if I didn’t want to do anything (…and of course, I don’t want to not do anything, the playful voice in my head responded gleefully).
And… well, the fact that he cared about me, of all people, enough to deny himself something if it made me feel uncomfortable. The bumbling failure who lacked the grace and calm elegance that he seemed to possess in every step, the blonde firecracker whom everyone merely shook their heads at with disappointment… what could he possibly want with me? He was a prodigy with an elite bloodline, the classic ideal of beauty in a Japanese male with porcelain skin and dark eyes that were at once piercing and enigmatic--exquisite and perfect in every way that I was brash and flawed.
“Sasuke,” I began unsurely, not knowing how to express my feelings in a manner that, while honest, wouldn’t make him wrinkle his nose in disgust--I knew they would sound like something out of one of Master Kakashi’s bizarre novels, no matter how much I changed the vernacular to my own. But as he continued to gaze at me with those eyes, the ones that could have suborned me to do anything he wanted, I felt my words would be better if I just said what I thought, not what I believed he wanted to hear.
“If I’d been weirded out by doing all of this with you, or even a guy, I wouldn’t have wanted you to do as much as I practically… well, begged you to.” At this, I felt my cheeks turn red as I remembered how I’d mumbled lust-warped jargon that made no sense, sighing Sasuke’s name and words of love like mantras, spilling from my lips as easily as his insatiable kisses had claimed them as his. However, Sasuke only responded by a curving of the lips that was almost condescending, his eyes alight with rare mischief that was more comforting than it was disconcerting--it was like his way of saying wordlessly, Oh, do I remember it, Naruto--and thoroughly enjoyed it , too. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, alright?
Feeling emboldened by his support, I continued, “To be honest, I’ve never enjoyed myself so much. But…”--I had to drop my gaze from his at this point, not wanting to see the reaction my next words would elicit--“Sasuke… I don’t understand what you want from me. I’m not especially talented in anything save for a few stupid Doppelgangers. Nine times outta ten, any ability that I do possess is because I‘m dependent on a demon to help me when he feels like it. I’m not the brilliant and beautiful prodigy everyone considers you to be, and when I was put in your cell, I could hear everyone’s unspoken words: ‘What’s a failure like Naruto doing with someone as gifted as Sasuke?’ I’m nowhere near the shinobi you are. You’ve even said so yourself”--I tried to block out the inevitable tide of memories as Sasuke’s words at the Final Valley rattled painfully within my skull--“so… why, Sasuke? I’m nothing special, I’m not…”
My next words were cut off as Sasuke’s lips stole my words. The speed of his movements were unbelievable--within seconds, he’d managed to cross the length of bed and was once again just above me, his legs straddling my hips and his hands lacing within my fingers far before I’d realized it. He’d caught my mouth in the middle of the “not”, the word dying my lips the moment the warmth of his skin mingled with mine. My eyes fluttered closed with delirium as he moved against me, his lips caught up in their caresses at the same moment his hips pressed gently into me as he leaned closer. Though it hadn’t been intentional, the combined sensations were still enough to make me a bit dizzy, a soft moan of rapture escaping before I could stop it.
Breaking from my lips gently, but not pulling away from me, he smiled at me in a way that was both loving and smoldering. It was the one I’d grown to love, where half his mouth curved into the smile. He didn’t immediately speak, but ran his lips with an agonizing, almost reverent slowness along my cheek, down the line of my jaw, and the curve of my neck, burning a trail of fire in their wake. As sighs of delight trickled from my mouth like rain, his lips would linger longer on my skin, would part a bit further until, with a zing of pleasure that shot through me like lightning, I felt the warmth of his tongue against my skin, the touch tentative but undeniably curious and craving more.
His mouth lifted ever so slightly from my flesh, his lips still resting lightly on the skin and his moist, warm breath seeming to tantalize me as it moved along the flesh like a caress. He pressed a few light kisses on the skin, the touch airy and light like a butterfly’s wings.
“Naruto,” I heard him say quietly, the velvet tone making my name sound like music with his voice. “If I wanted such things, I would have sought after them. I could have easily found the so-called ‘ideal’ shinobi: careful and thinking before they act, humble of their abilities, polite, thinking before they speak… if I wanted someone like that, it wouldn’t have been hard. But instead, unbelievably, my heart decided to fall in love with a blonde firecracker who was loud and unwavering in his self-confidence, rushing to save a friend instead of relying on the decorum spoon-fed to us. It… well, I didn’t want so-called ‘perfection‘. I wanted my Naruto, the bumbling ninja consisting of a beautiful discordance of flaws. I embraced those flaws until they, to me, were the strongest aspects of who you are.”
With this, he paused thoughtfully, resting his lips gently to my neck in the lightest of kisses, in the same confirmatory manner one might have when nodding their head in agreement to something. I could feel his smile as he continued, “Don’t assume you know my standards, Naruto--it’s apparent you don’t consider them very high.”
Whatever you may believe, you’re not inferior to me--never think for a moment that you are. If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have fallen for you. You’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for.
While he never said these things aloud, I could hear it subtly woven amongst the fabric of his other words, as clearly as though he’d whispered it softly into my ear. As I’d come to learn about Sasuke, you had to not only listen to what he directly stated, but also the words that were woven within them--in his case, one truly had to read between the immediate meaning of what he told you. Once it dawned on me, the only reaction I could muster that wouldn’t weird him out was a smile, that rare grin of mine that didn’t involve flashing both rows of pearly whites and eyes squinting shut. I felt that familiar burn in my throat and the corners of my eyes again, but this time it was welcome as an almost foreign, undiluted joy flooded me. Sasuke had… he’d actually admitted that he did care for me, that I wasn’t just a trivial conquest or an inconsequential shadow beside him. He’d even used “love”, that indelible vow that, once given me, he couldn’t take back.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I drew him closer to me, capturing his lips with my own both as an unspoken “thank you“, craving his kisses as his promise. He made a surprised noise in his throat, but he quickly responded with a vigor that seemed, if anything, stronger than before. I felt his tongue press gently between my lips, and with a happy sigh of consent, I parted them to give him what the both of us craved.
It was as though this action unlocked something deep within him, unlocking a secret door that had served as a barrier, maintaining some of his self-control. His lips pressed harder against me, his kisses deepening and growing a bit fiercer, a bit more passionate and all the more exhilarating. Until this point, Sasuke’s hands had merely rested on me lightly, one on my upper arm and the other at the nape of my neck--it’d seemed as though he’d hardly known what else to do with them at the time. Now I was never more aware of them, for his hand gripped my arm tightly, trembling ever so slightly, while the one at my nape had slid into my hair. He noticed the way my body froze when he did it, for I felt Sasuke smirk mischievously as he started running his fingers leisurely through my hair. He seemed to enjoy experimenting with his touches, learning which strokes correlating with certain tongue motions would elicit a moan out of me. Admittedly, it wasn’t too difficult for him to achieve that--he was far better at this than he could possibly imagine.
As our kisses grew longer and lingered longer than necessary, I felt the smoothness of his palm sliding from its resting place on my arm, traveling to my shoulder with an unhurried manner--almost reverent in how delicate his motions were. To my surprise, he didn’t move them further down as I would have anticipated, but instead he took the collar of my shirt in his free hand as the fingers knotted in my hair momentarily halted their progress. His lips broke from mine softly, and just for a moment, his eyes met mine. There was a peculiar wildness in their usually tranquil depths, something deliciously feral but tinged with an exquisite tenderness that, if anything, made him appear even more breathtaking. His obsidian eyes smoldered beneath his lashes, but there was something buried within it that was more powerful that lust, more intoxicating than wine. Part of me wanted to break from his intense gaze, but I couldn’t turn away.
“Naruto…” he breathed quietly, unthinkingly, before he drew me closer to him, his lips pressing against my cheek. His lips, still slightly parted, began to slowly travel along the curve of my jaw and just behind my ear like before. However, he seemed more sure of himself, knowing how thoroughly I enjoyed and could respond to such touches. Sasuke seemed to be in no rush, seeming to savor the taste of my skin on his tongue or how easily a particular caress would draw out sighs, mere exhales of pleasure that steadily grew to moans as his lips continued their kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck. His hands traveled down the length of my torso almost hungrily, the sensation of his inquisitive fingers exploring every dip and curve along my body giving me the delicious contradiction of vulnerability and of power. While his hands could do anything they wanted to, I loved how my body seemed to hold such fascination for him--it was a weapon I’d never even known I possessed. His possessive kisses brought his body and mine were pressed ever closer, his hips grinding into mine in a way that, while unintentional, would cause the both of us to gasp with a surprised pleasure. It wasn’t the first time our bodies had been so close to one another, but never in the same way as now--I was painfully aware now of how only thin layers of cloth separated his skin from mine… and as desire burned in my veins, I craved nothing more to run my hands along the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders, to inhale the warm musk of his tanned skin.
Seeming to crave more than “mere” kisses, Sasuke’s caresses grew more amorous as he traveled further down my neck, his lips sucking on the skin before his tongue would tease the area with a few decisive strokes. I heard him make a low noise in his throat amidst my own breathy moans, a contented sound like the “mmm” one makes while indulging in some delectable repast. Though a far cry from the carnal groans I wanted to hear from him, there was a peculiar satisfaction in knowing I could entice him far more than I‘d believed I could.
Changing his technique, I felt his teeth graze my neck momentarily. I couldn’t think of why it would make me nervous, but Sasuke must have sensed my apprehension at feeling his teeth on my skin--but in all reality, was biting my neck his idea of a joke? I tried to wriggled from his embrace, but he held onto me and wouldn’t let go. He seemed to find my hesitation more amusing than he did as a sign to stop.
“Calm down, Naruto. I’m pretty sure that you‘ll like this. It may not seem that way--” so he could tell I was skeptical of this statement “--but it’s… well, it’s a ‘torture of delight’, as I’ve heard someone put it,” he murmured soothingly, meeting my eyes with a small smile.
I sighed before I tilted my head ever so slightly to the side, feeling strangely like an unwilling maiden in a vampire tale. I could still feel Sasuke’s cocky smirk as he added, “It’ll actually hurt if you tense up, though. The fact that we’re doing all this means that you’re open-minded as it is--at least let me see if this is something you enjoy, okay?”
He wanted to see if this was something I would enjoy--the simple gravity of his selfless words was enough to silence any further protests on my part. I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaving myself vulnerable to his whims but, at the same time, knowing fully that he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me if he could help it.
Sasuke started nibbling on the skin gently, just as I had anticipated, but soothed it with his lips and tongue before any pain had a chance to sneak in. His bites-and-kisses routine had the peculiar, but infinitely pleasurable, effect of causing the nerves there to be aroused, but his kisses the only aspect to be felt. He was “torturing” me with his soft nibbles, leaving me only able to sigh in defeat, “You were right, Sasuke…“ and to be reward with a husky snicker between kisses.
Beyond this I couldn’t say much more, for already my senses were being overwhelmed by the haze of lust that had settled in. I could see just as fine as before, but my body seemed unable to focus on anything but the ecstasy of so many sensations, becoming a welcome slave to them: his love bites on my neck and collarbone, his hand sliding up and under my thin cotton shirt to explore what laid hidden under it.
I couldn’t take it any longer, the feeling of his hands rummaging under my shirt and having no gratification--I could tell that if I didn’t give him any indication that I was more than willing to do what he wanted, that he would just satisfy himself but be too polite to take more initiative. I unlaced my arms from around his neck, and helped him get rid of this burden in one quick motion. I slid my t-shirt from me, tossing it to the floor beside the bed carelessly, and there was a sharp but pleased intake of breath on Sasuke’s part as he noticed that I was helping--not preventing--him in doing this. For a moment there was an almost unbearable, lingering moment where his gaze was transfixed, enthralled in a way I’d never seen before. His eyes seemed to take in what they saw as though it were an advent repast, as though he couldn’t get enough of what he saw. It was both a look of indescribable hunger, but also…well, it was mingled with a peculiar sadness that made my heart drop like a stone.
“So beautiful…” he whispered with a shades of sorrow layered within it, his fingertips running lightly along my chest, his lips turning just barely curving into a smile. “But… there’s so many memories of pain here.” His fingers would tap at random areas on my stomach, pectorals, near my shoulders as he said it, as though seeing something painful in each area. I looked down to see where his fingers indicated, but I only saw unmarked flesh.
As if reading my thoughts, Sasuke continued, “These eyes of mine… they can see much more than yours. They can see the scar tissue beneath your skin that your own eyes cannot, the remnants of injuries that your skin did a miraculous job of healing on a superficial level. Like these”--he continued pressing his fingers into seemingly random points on my skin--“are where Haku’s needles pierced you. Your skin’s so smooth and soft--you would never imagine the things that have happened to it along the way.”
I felt shards of ice run through my veins as his eyes shifted to the area just below my right shoulder, the nameless expanse between my chest and collarbone. What he saw there must have horrified him, for his eyes grew wide and for a moment, his fingers trembled before he re-gained control of himself again. This was the one placed I’d been worried about him seeing--not even the fox’s chakra had been able to fully heal it, and even to an eye without the aid of the Sharingan, the scar tissue there told a tale I preferred not to remember. With every fiber of my being, I longed for him to look away or to simply ignore it, but fate was a cruel jester.
“Naruto, who did this to you…?” he asked with shock, his voice actually trembling with both dismay and suppressed rage. He looked at the scar intently, and I noticed for the first time that his eyes had turn to the deep carmine of the Sharingan as he examined the area. The effect of him inspecting the injury he’d caused me, and the blood-red eyes that had condescendingly gazed into mine as he did it… once again I was a powerless slave to my memories…
“That was a nice move with your hand there,” Sasuke sneered, his eyes bright with amusement. “It’s too bad I missed your heart. Either way, you’re out a shoulder and a lung. Forget about sign-weaving--that’s all over now. You can’t even breathe properly, can you?”
He was right, of course--only a split-second shift of my hand had prevented his own from reaching my heart, which had been his original target. But the agony he‘d managed to inflict… oh gods, the pain was beyond comprehension. With each inhale, my lung pressed into his chakra-laced fist, the friction causing a white-hot pain to shoot from my chest to my feet. I could feel my blood seeping from the wound far quicker than my body could replace it, making my head feel horribly light and any attempt to figure out a solution hindered by my deteriorating state. I could hear the demon inside me cackling raucously at my weakness, taunting me to rely on its power once again, like I always did when I was slipping closer to death…
“It’s… it’s nothing, Sasuke.”
I could only think to reply to his loaded question with a simple dismissal of his concern. I didn’t want to remember the Sasuke in the past, nor make any connection between the two. The loving Sasuke who drowned me in kisses and caresses, the murderous Sasuke who had tried to kill me with such bitterness … in my mind, they were two sides of the same coin, two images in the mirror of the same young man. I could no more separate the two than I could separate myself from my nine-tailed demon, but the childish part of me had managed to carry on the self-deception that they were in no way connected, and that I could convince myself that the two eras were neatly compartmentalized. The truth was, “then” and “now” were mere illusions, and the connections made amongst them were ever-winded threads that no amount of love nor time could ever be able to detach. My beloved Sasuke was the Sasuke from the past--only softened by time.
“It happened so long ago, it’s not really a big deal--” I began, but Sasuke cut me off angrily before I could finish placating him. He grabbed my shoulders with his hands, bringing us face-to-face and forcing me to meet his eyes. The burgundy of his eyes seemed to burn into my own, suborning me to return his furious gaze. His hands were much rougher than before, and I was afraid for a moment that he would actually hurt me out of fury. I tried to wriggle out of his bruising grip, but it was like struggling against stone. He was almost frightening with such a towering temper setting his eyes ablaze, so much so I was afraid he would lose control--it wouldn’t have been the first time he had lost himself in his anger.
“Sasuke, let me go!” I begged him, but he only responded coldly, “Not until you stop hiding things from me. You’re outright lying to me, though I don’t what on earth could be so important that you won’t even tell me who on earth did this. Can‘t you see I‘m worried about you? Someone was trying to kill you when they did it--they almost hit your heart! And here you are defending them?!”
He started to bring his hand to the scar, and instinctively I flinched as my body tensed up, expecting his hand to pierce through it again. When the pain didn’t come, I opened my eyes ever so slightly and saw that Sasuke’s eyes had softened. Indeed, his expression had immediately melted into something more tender and apologetic. He lowered his hand to my leg, the touch bearing no passion behind it but instead having the intention of comfort. I tried to smile, as was my pathetic custom when I didn’t know how else to respond to situations such as these. I opened my mouth to try and say whatever words I knew to placate him, but Sasuke’s other hand covered it gently, the simple motion saying all at once I’m sorry for my reaction and let me do the talking.
“Did… did I do this, Naruto? During that one fight?” he asked simply, his down-turned head shadowing his eyes so that I couldn’t see them. I was surprised how quickly he figured it out, but I wouldn’t be the one to mention anything if I could help it.
“You were under the control of the curse mark, you didn’t know what you were doing…” I tried to explain, but he held up a hand to silence me.
“But I did this to you. I… I tried to kill you. What kind of friend would do that?”
Sasuke fell silent as he lifted his head once more, his eyes narrowed in pain and dangerously glassy as he refused to meet my eyes this time. I leaned over to give his cheek a gentle stroke, to assure him with my actions that all was forgiven. But he swiftly moved his head out of my reach, still refusing any actions on my part to show forgiveness, or even love. He swung his legs from my hips, sitting once again on the bed across from me, this time really seeming as thought he was too ashamed of himself to even touch me. His features were as composed and perfect as a contemplative Buddha, arms crossed in front of his chest in a way that seemed as thought it were a crutch verses the stoic arm-folding he always assumed. From the way he was sitting, it were as though he was prepared to sit there for hours if he felt it were necessary, willing to torment himself with self-deprecating thoughts that would ultimately do nothing to heal the past.
But as he continued to sit there, restraining himself and putting a strain on me as well, I knew he didn’t want to hurt me by doing so. But… well, nevertheless, the fact that he was so heavily emphasizing the past was far more painful than his attempts to move on as I‘d hoped he would. His kisses had proved more medicinal than his apologies; his sighs of pleasure had proven more curative than this fruitless effort of denying himself the one thing a man craved above all else. The intimacy involved in making love would prove more therapeutic than this torturous self-denial ever could. But knowing Sasuke, his will of iron could not be bent.
It was such a painful feeling, at once frustration and a vague sense of rejection--how I’d yearned for it, and for so much more than a carnal satisfaction. I craved him, pure and simple. I knew no better way to show him how deeply my feelings ran than to give him more than I’d given anyone else, to share myself with him in a way that was a complete but welcome surrender. More than anything, I wanted to give himself myself, in the hopes that the gift was something worthwhile in his eyes. But he denied me the choice to even give him pleasure, if nothing else.
“Sasuke, please, look at me,” I pleaded softly, hoping with my whole heart that he would at least lift his eyes and look at me. I felt a glimmer of satisfaction when his eyes lifted slightly to meet mine, his gaze a bit sullen but strangely attractive with such a moody tint. I smiled as best as I could with such rampant emotions battering against one another, praying what I said would come out the way I meant it to.
“I… I want this, you know,” I began unsurely, and Sasuke lifted his eyebrows the same moment his gaze turned deadpan. He asked me with wordless rhetoric, And what guy doesn’t want sex? That fact means nothing.
“It’s not trivial to me, whether you think so or not. Yeah, it feels good--really good--but that’s not the only reason. It’s… well, it’s more healing than you think it is. It’s like everything you did to me back then is being erased little by little, every we‘re doing now replacing what you did back then. To me, you’re apologizing and repenting without saying a word, or even realizing you’re doing it. That’s all I really need, Sasuke. Your apologies won’t solve a thing if it’ll only serve as a way to further torture yourself--in all honesty, it makes me feel a lot worse than if you didn’t say anything at all. I want to give you everything that I can offer, and receive all that you’re willing to give. Trust me, you don’t know how badly I crave that. That would heal the past far better than your self-hatred will. So please… just… Sasuke, I can plead with you if you really want me to.”
Hating how pitiful my words sounded, hating how vulnerable I was in front of him, I could only hang my head down and shield my face from his piercing eyes, trying with all my might to not lose control of my emotions. I stared determinedly at my hands, noticing even then with disgust how scarred they were, the skin rough in several places with calluses--looking at Sasuke’s own hands, I saw that his were as smooth and graceful as a pianist’s. Even down to our hands, I was as flawed and coarse as he was immaculate and elegant. But wasn’t that was how things worked in our case? I was perpetually confined to linger in his shadow, always hoping I was good enough for him. But in the end, I knew I never would be. I mean, what kind of person had to practically beg someone to make love to them, and had to explain themselves for it? Was the idea that repulsive to him?
“You… you really want this, don’t you?”
Sasuke’s words took me by surprise, mystified but with an edge of relief that was more encouraging than it should have been. Glancing up reluctantly, I saw that his eyes were just as confused as his words implied, but the slight smile on his lips told me that my pathetic monologue had reached him in some way. If even if I didn’t deserve it, I could at least take comfort in the fact that I had soothed a few of his unnecessary concerns.
“More than I probably should, but yeah, I do,” I answered, unable to keep a grin from creeping onto my own lips. “What’s done is done, Sasuke. If you want to mend things, an apology’s only going to make the both of us feel worse about it. I’ve done my best to leave it behind me--maybe it’s time you forgave yourself. I never loved you any less, but…”
My thoughts trailed off into darker territory as I was faced at last with the unnamed fear that had eaten at me this entire time like a cancer: what if my feelings were no longer requited? Or… what if this were an act of kindness? He didn’t usually have the cruelty to shove someone away, and he was a teenager with hormones… but what if I cared more for him than he did for me? What if he merely did this to pacify me and to satisfy his own lust--nothing more?
“But Sasuke, if you don’t feel the same as before, or if they’ve have diminished, then--”
His lips stole the words from mine once more, silencing me instantly. Though the kiss didn’t linger like the others, the warmth of his mouth stayed with me even after Sasuke pulled away ever so slightly. I could feel his moist breath on my lips as the moments stretched, his ebony eyes burning into mine with more intensity than I’d ever seen before. I had watched him countless times as he plotted strategies in his head, but even then, I’d never seen him so focused and thoughtful.
“Never,” he replied with a shade of a smile. “In some things, at least, I’m just as stubborn as you are--don’t start implying that I’ve changed that much. It’s been a while, but my tastes haven’t really changed, you know. I still love the same people I did before, I still crave”--his fingertips ran lightly tenderly along my cheek--“the same things. And we were in the middle of something, weren’t we?”
His faint smile grew into that arrogant half-smile that I’ve always loved and loathed, condescension and seduction tidily bundled into a smirk that always left me foolishly stunned by how breathtaking he was. As his eyes traveled down, and they smoldered with desire, I realized that I was still shirtless and a bit unkempt from our earlier kisses. I felt myself blush from his gaze, but there was something so gratifying about the fascination my body seemed to hold for him.
It was almost too much, his ravenous eyes and my body positively humming with an unfulfilled yearning for him. I didn’t just want this intimacy anymore--my body needed it as desperately as oxygen, and oh, how lust burned in my veins. Meeting his gaze with as much audacity as I knew to muster, I said in a rather rushed whisper, “Looking at me is great and all, but you know that’s not enough. C’mon, Sasuke--if you’re gonna take me, do it now. ”
“Gladly,” he retorted with a laugh before he pressed me back down onto the bed with the urgent roughness of a lover, but gentle enough to make sure I knew his intentions were driven by more than lust. My back hitting the mattress was a blessed familiarity as my blood sang with pleasure, my body almost trembling now with anticipation. Before I could even gather my thoughts, the soft pressure of his lips met mine once again, and it felt so perfect, as if we really were made for one another. The ambrosial taste of him taking over every one of my senses, the heat of his body like drowning in warmth, the nervous exhilaration of being able to savor a once forbidden act between lovers… my body was actually trembling with anticipation. I remembered with a bit of a smile what I’d said what seemed like an eternity ago: “I’m not laughing because it’s funny--I’m just psyched, that’s all.” Though the circumstances had been infinitely different back then, the same physical manifestation of such excitement made my body quiver beneath his, made my heart thunder in my chest like a drum and my blood turn to fire as it sent a white-hot flame through my body.
The warm pressure of his hand on my thigh snapped my thoughts sharply from brief memory. It had been resting there for a few moments, but the slow shift of it inward and towards a far more erogenous place had immediately been awarded my attention. He must have taken my gasp of surprise as something negative, for Sasuke hesitated for just a moment, his hand lifting momentarily in the same slight apprehension. I put my hand over his, guiding it to the illicit region he’d been subtly inching towards. Pressing his hand there much rougher than he probably would have done himself, I felt the inferno burning my blood flare where his hand touched, and an animalistic moan erupted from me as pleasure throbbed there with a force that was almost dizzying.
“You like that, do you?” he purred in my ear, his voice wonderfully husky and rough from his own desire. I felt his teeth gently graze the lobe there, biting gently and eliciting yet another pleasurably surprised “ahhh” from me. The warm breath from his chuckle played against the skin there--even his taunts were a temptation of the senses. He removed my hand from his and experimented with these vigorous caresses himself, and… oh gods, it was infinitely more satisfying when he was the one to be touching me in such a way. The rhythm of his tongue and his hand were synchronized in a way that was almost maddening, for I couldn’t do much else but groan into his mouth--and even then, he managed to turn such things to his own advantage, sliding his tongue deeper when my lips parted further in a sigh the same moment his precise touches tantalized the hardening arousal between my legs.
“Sa… Sasuke…” I whispered thoughtlessly, running my fingers down the length of his back, feeling finely defined muscle beneath the cloth of his shirt. Wanting to feel his satin skin beneath my fingertips, I laced the bottom of his shirt in my fist so I could slide it from him, to have the press of his bare skin against my own. With as much care as I could managed, I slipped it up his torso with a leisurely pace before casting it to the floor with my own shirt, relishing the slow unveiling of his body, as beautiful and perfect as I would have expected. The subtle definition of his abdominal muscles, his slender stomach, the honey-toned skin of his pectorals, the elegant curve of his collar bones beneath the arch of his neck--everything about him was beauty and power, the softness of his skin paired with the solid muscles just beneath it. Sasuke’s body was so graceful, as though it’d been sculpted by a loving virtuoso--like one of Rome’s marble gods given a soul, flawless but wonderfully warm and alive.
I could only gaze at him with a strange mingling of wonder and desire as moments stretched on, running my inquisitive fingers along the smooth skin of his back and the carefully developed muscle there. Sasuke’s eyes fluttered closed with bliss as my hands slid along his skin, and I could feel goose bumps rise ever so slightly as a small shudder of pleasure made his body tremble. But I had no desire to rush this--after years of yearning, I wanted to savor the feel of his skin against me and the mingling of our body heat. It was heaven being so close to him--without clothing in the way, it seemed almost deviant for our bodies to be almost intertwined with one another. There was something so refreshingly new about it all--certainly we’d never been quite this intimate with one another, save for a stolen kiss away from Kakashi’s eyes. To be entangled in our bodies and kisses after years of yearning was the sweetest sort of delayed gratification.
His kisses melted against my lips like a fluid, ethereal dream; a tangible reverie that tasted of vanilla, cinnamon, exotic spices that dissolved on my tongue. The fiery caresses of Sasuke’s hand between my thighs was like a ribbon of scarlet, tying my whole body in taut muscles and quivering moans as his artful strokes spread liquid fire through my blood. His carnal touches caused my hips to unintentionally buck and press even harder into his hand in time with his caresses, and a symphony of low groans and lust-tinged snickers to emerge from the curtain of silence that hung in our room.
I felt Sasuke’s fingers play with the zipper on my sweatpants, the last barrier from a far more forbidden sin beneath. He hesitated, breath held in his chest and the realization clear in his onyx eyes as we both met one another’s eyes: once we did this, there was no turning back. Sure, we’d filched precious moments from watchful eyes, where hands had explored the most intimate of regions and experimentation had been merely that. But it had never progressed beyond curious fingers feeling unfamiliar curves and arousing foreign sensations; always we’d kept in the mind the fact that we could be caught at any moment, so the exotic pleasures of lovers had been all but impossible for us to savor.
But now… there was no question in any of our minds what to do next. Smiling with a bit of mischief, I allowed Sasuke to part my legs a bit further and let him know with these action that I craved everything as heartily as he did. I watched with held breath as he slowly slid the zipper down, his exquisite restraint borne of our mutual inexperience and the novelty of the inevitable act sure to follow. With a whisper-soft release of his breath, he slipped my sweatpants, then boxers, from my legs and let them flutter to the floor silently.
There was a stretch of stillness where we both gazed at one another, his eyes consumed by awe and an undeniable hunger as they traveled slowly down my body--I could follow the trail of his gaze as it moved down my chest, the line of my stomach, my hips, and… with a furious flush rushing to my face, I realized that he was also looking at the most clandestine part of me that I’d never let another person see. I would have felt utterly ashamed and snatched my clothes right back had I not glimpsed the smile that started to curve on his lips. He reached over a hand and gently ran it down the arc of my cheek, letting it traveling airily down my chest and to the pelvic bones that just barely peeked out against the skin. The touch felt at once so intimate and tender that, while a gasp of pleasure willed itself to escape, my throat had trapped them.
Even now, amidst the most intoxicating experience, my mind taints it with the past. Those adept and precise hands know the exact touches to elicit a sigh of pleasure, even channeling bits of chakra to enhance the sensations further. Each caress of his lips blended against my own with such a perfect rhythm, feeling as if he gave back everything he took from me… and oh gods, his kisses were like the waters of heaven. It was so effortless and beautifully thoughtless, the welcome surrender of just feeling everything and taking it all in--I could savor the sweet taste of him, delicious and ambrosial unlike anything I could have dreamed of. The mutual craving that burned in his blood, in some aspects, was even more desperate than my own. It was oddly comforting to know he desired me--the inconsequential failure who blundered in everything--as heartily as I did him. He was perfection, as talented as he was handsome… I was absolutely inferior to him, for I was neither a prodigy nor blessed with the exquisite beauty he was. But from the way a low sigh would purr in his throat every now and then, this was one thing I could do well.
He held onto me so tightly, even as his fingertips curiously explored my skin in a way that caused a white-hot flame to lace through my veins--foreign, unadulterated lust that was almost frightening in its intensity. Somehow the feeling of his hands running down my skin felt even more intimate than the closeness of our bodies or the ardency of our kisses, which deepened with each moment. The first time I had felt my tongue meet warm muscle, an unexpected but pleasurable zing had shot through my entire body. It had been enough of a surprise that we broke apart from just a moment, staring at one another in bewildered--albeit pleased--shock. A mischievous giggle later, we experimented with the same touch again, tongues dancing together in a battle for dominance. I swore I heard him murmur my name between his hushed breaths, though it could have also been the wind twisting around the sound of it. The night was utter tranquility and silence, the sounds of our kisses and heavy breathing seeming to thunder in our quiet room.
Heavy breathing… why did this awaken bittersweet despair, causing rebellious tears to burn the corners of my eyes even as my body responded with arousal?
He sounded just the same the last time we fought, my mind whispered.
Crumpled to the stone beneath me, Sasuke stared at me with a peculiar hatred and pain in his eyes that, as furious as I was, still caused my heart to ache. His porcelain face was now littered with blooming bruises and cuts, but even then he maintained his dignity unwaveringly.
“Wake up, Sasuke!” I pleaded, despising every punch I gave him, loathing how stoic his expression remained despite his pain… I knew polite reasoning couldn’t reach him anymore, but still, I hated that I had to resort to such cruel methods. His lust for power had twisted his perceptions, making even comrades appear to be foes. He was practically intoxicated with his own cravings like a drunk and his liquid vice, no longer satisfied with “mere” friendship. Friendship was the sweetness of chocolate, a brief indulgence that only a child can truly savor. Vengeance, however, was the rich complexity of wine, the subtle pleasure of its flavors on your tongue an unforgettable thing. Sasuke craved this more “adult “ indulgence, believing he could be better satisfied when hatred drove his steps. Orochimaru’s honeyed lies were the perfect lure for Sasuke, the seductive vows he spoke making ideas like “friends” or “comrade” seem like the wishes of a fool.
At first, I’d wanted desperately to believe he was kidding, that all of this was just a sick joke on his part. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d threatened me before. But… as I met the pure hatred in his scarlet eyes, I knew this was different. He had scowled at me in the past with an irritation I knew I deserved, but there had always been just a tinge of amusement beneath his frown. It was the ever so slight flash of laughter that only a careful look at his eyes could have revealed--he was always skilled at hiding his emotions everywhere else, save for in those eyes that were such a significant part of him. This assured me that he wasn’t truly angry with me, no matter what words he said in contradiction.
His eyes now… they were foreign, almost inhuman. It was like staring a cobra right in the eye before it struck you--cold, hateful, and bloodlust seeming to burn right below the surface. Cobra… one of the deadliest snakes…at once, I realized with horror that already Orochimaru was manifesting himself in Sasuke.
No, no, I didn’t want to remember this… please, don’t make me think about this…
“Naruto?”
Blinking several times, I realized I was still in the deep shadows of Sasuke’s room, with the said owner gazing down on me with apprehension etched into his features. I couldn’t dredge up any words to say, for my mind wondered which Sasuke I was with now--the one I had fallen in love with so long ago, or the one who had tried to kill me with such ease?
His eyes… look at his eyes, Naruto…
Ebony. Not scarlet, but a deep black hue. No hatred in those eyes, but instead only concern and a appealing sort of disorientation as he tried to focus even as lust clouded his senses. He grew more anxious as I merely laid there beneath him, struggling to figure out where reality and memory disentangled themselves--and to avoid mentioning what I had been thinking about. Under the influence of Orochimaru’s mark when he‘d done most of it, I knew Sasuke wouldn’t remember everything he’d done back then. I reminded myself of this, but even so, I felt the corners of my eyes burning rebelliously.
To my surprise, Sasuke ran a hand affectionately along the curve of my jaw, the calming effect immediate as my body settled once again into a warm sort of bliss, the muscles that had tensed with the sudden dive into my memories beginning to relax. His eyes softened just a bit as he noticed this reaction, the smallest of smiles curving his lips as the worry evaporated from his expression.
That’s all done and over with--don’t dwell on it, and just take things as they happen. You and he have both changed--you’ve wanted this for so long, so don’t ruin it!
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I replied at last, forcing as much nonchalance into my tone as I could, but the way it shook seemed to correlate with the … well, the annoying water in my eyes, I lied to myself. Judging from how Sasuke’s eyes narrowed skeptically in response, he wasn’t fooled for a moment by my words. Sighing in an unintentionally alluring way and pulling away from me, he ran a hand lazily through his raven-hued hair in what I’d come to identify as embarrassment--though Sasuke tried to hide it, once again his eyes betrayed his attempt to hide his emotions.
He sat down crossed-legged near my feet, so I had to crane my head around my thighs and knees to be able to see him. An unbidden whine of protest escaped from my throat before I could catch it, and I tried to get up several times. Being the perpetual clumsy shinobi that I was, this quickly proved fruitless--finally, I just let myself fall onto my back like before, staring at the ceiling as I waited for him to explain.
Meeting my eyes briefly before staring determinedly at his balled fists in front of him, he said with an increasing blush in his cheeks, “I know I kinda… started all of this and… you know, it’s not like I really asked if you even wanted to. So I can understand if you’re weirded out or something, with it being me, being a guy…”
He had a startling amount of difficulty saying all of this, as if word slowly ripped apart something inside him. The way he seemed to hate saying it made several things click in my head once, all of them comforting, but none of them seeming right.
He wanted this as desperately as I did.
He was willing to stop if I didn’t want to do anything (…and of course, I don’t want to not do anything, the playful voice in my head responded gleefully).
And… well, the fact that he cared about me, of all people, enough to deny himself something if it made me feel uncomfortable. The bumbling failure who lacked the grace and calm elegance that he seemed to possess in every step, the blonde firecracker whom everyone merely shook their heads at with disappointment… what could he possibly want with me? He was a prodigy with an elite bloodline, the classic ideal of beauty in a Japanese male with porcelain skin and dark eyes that were at once piercing and enigmatic--exquisite and perfect in every way that I was brash and flawed.
“Sasuke,” I began unsurely, not knowing how to express my feelings in a manner that, while honest, wouldn’t make him wrinkle his nose in disgust--I knew they would sound like something out of one of Master Kakashi’s bizarre novels, no matter how much I changed the vernacular to my own. But as he continued to gaze at me with those eyes, the ones that could have suborned me to do anything he wanted, I felt my words would be better if I just said what I thought, not what I believed he wanted to hear.
“If I’d been weirded out by doing all of this with you, or even a guy, I wouldn’t have wanted you to do as much as I practically… well, begged you to.” At this, I felt my cheeks turn red as I remembered how I’d mumbled lust-warped jargon that made no sense, sighing Sasuke’s name and words of love like mantras, spilling from my lips as easily as his insatiable kisses had claimed them as his. However, Sasuke only responded by a curving of the lips that was almost condescending, his eyes alight with rare mischief that was more comforting than it was disconcerting--it was like his way of saying wordlessly, Oh, do I remember it, Naruto--and thoroughly enjoyed it , too. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, alright?
Feeling emboldened by his support, I continued, “To be honest, I’ve never enjoyed myself so much. But…”--I had to drop my gaze from his at this point, not wanting to see the reaction my next words would elicit--“Sasuke… I don’t understand what you want from me. I’m not especially talented in anything save for a few stupid Doppelgangers. Nine times outta ten, any ability that I do possess is because I‘m dependent on a demon to help me when he feels like it. I’m not the brilliant and beautiful prodigy everyone considers you to be, and when I was put in your cell, I could hear everyone’s unspoken words: ‘What’s a failure like Naruto doing with someone as gifted as Sasuke?’ I’m nowhere near the shinobi you are. You’ve even said so yourself”--I tried to block out the inevitable tide of memories as Sasuke’s words at the Final Valley rattled painfully within my skull--“so… why, Sasuke? I’m nothing special, I’m not…”
My next words were cut off as Sasuke’s lips stole my words. The speed of his movements were unbelievable--within seconds, he’d managed to cross the length of bed and was once again just above me, his legs straddling my hips and his hands lacing within my fingers far before I’d realized it. He’d caught my mouth in the middle of the “not”, the word dying my lips the moment the warmth of his skin mingled with mine. My eyes fluttered closed with delirium as he moved against me, his lips caught up in their caresses at the same moment his hips pressed gently into me as he leaned closer. Though it hadn’t been intentional, the combined sensations were still enough to make me a bit dizzy, a soft moan of rapture escaping before I could stop it.
Breaking from my lips gently, but not pulling away from me, he smiled at me in a way that was both loving and smoldering. It was the one I’d grown to love, where half his mouth curved into the smile. He didn’t immediately speak, but ran his lips with an agonizing, almost reverent slowness along my cheek, down the line of my jaw, and the curve of my neck, burning a trail of fire in their wake. As sighs of delight trickled from my mouth like rain, his lips would linger longer on my skin, would part a bit further until, with a zing of pleasure that shot through me like lightning, I felt the warmth of his tongue against my skin, the touch tentative but undeniably curious and craving more.
His mouth lifted ever so slightly from my flesh, his lips still resting lightly on the skin and his moist, warm breath seeming to tantalize me as it moved along the flesh like a caress. He pressed a few light kisses on the skin, the touch airy and light like a butterfly’s wings.
“Naruto,” I heard him say quietly, the velvet tone making my name sound like music with his voice. “If I wanted such things, I would have sought after them. I could have easily found the so-called ‘ideal’ shinobi: careful and thinking before they act, humble of their abilities, polite, thinking before they speak… if I wanted someone like that, it wouldn’t have been hard. But instead, unbelievably, my heart decided to fall in love with a blonde firecracker who was loud and unwavering in his self-confidence, rushing to save a friend instead of relying on the decorum spoon-fed to us. It… well, I didn’t want so-called ‘perfection‘. I wanted my Naruto, the bumbling ninja consisting of a beautiful discordance of flaws. I embraced those flaws until they, to me, were the strongest aspects of who you are.”
With this, he paused thoughtfully, resting his lips gently to my neck in the lightest of kisses, in the same confirmatory manner one might have when nodding their head in agreement to something. I could feel his smile as he continued, “Don’t assume you know my standards, Naruto--it’s apparent you don’t consider them very high.”
Whatever you may believe, you’re not inferior to me--never think for a moment that you are. If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have fallen for you. You’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for.
While he never said these things aloud, I could hear it subtly woven amongst the fabric of his other words, as clearly as though he’d whispered it softly into my ear. As I’d come to learn about Sasuke, you had to not only listen to what he directly stated, but also the words that were woven within them--in his case, one truly had to read between the immediate meaning of what he told you. Once it dawned on me, the only reaction I could muster that wouldn’t weird him out was a smile, that rare grin of mine that didn’t involve flashing both rows of pearly whites and eyes squinting shut. I felt that familiar burn in my throat and the corners of my eyes again, but this time it was welcome as an almost foreign, undiluted joy flooded me. Sasuke had… he’d actually admitted that he did care for me, that I wasn’t just a trivial conquest or an inconsequential shadow beside him. He’d even used “love”, that indelible vow that, once given me, he couldn’t take back.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I drew him closer to me, capturing his lips with my own both as an unspoken “thank you“, craving his kisses as his promise. He made a surprised noise in his throat, but he quickly responded with a vigor that seemed, if anything, stronger than before. I felt his tongue press gently between my lips, and with a happy sigh of consent, I parted them to give him what the both of us craved.
It was as though this action unlocked something deep within him, unlocking a secret door that had served as a barrier, maintaining some of his self-control. His lips pressed harder against me, his kisses deepening and growing a bit fiercer, a bit more passionate and all the more exhilarating. Until this point, Sasuke’s hands had merely rested on me lightly, one on my upper arm and the other at the nape of my neck--it’d seemed as though he’d hardly known what else to do with them at the time. Now I was never more aware of them, for his hand gripped my arm tightly, trembling ever so slightly, while the one at my nape had slid into my hair. He noticed the way my body froze when he did it, for I felt Sasuke smirk mischievously as he started running his fingers leisurely through my hair. He seemed to enjoy experimenting with his touches, learning which strokes correlating with certain tongue motions would elicit a moan out of me. Admittedly, it wasn’t too difficult for him to achieve that--he was far better at this than he could possibly imagine.
As our kisses grew longer and lingered longer than necessary, I felt the smoothness of his palm sliding from its resting place on my arm, traveling to my shoulder with an unhurried manner--almost reverent in how delicate his motions were. To my surprise, he didn’t move them further down as I would have anticipated, but instead he took the collar of my shirt in his free hand as the fingers knotted in my hair momentarily halted their progress. His lips broke from mine softly, and just for a moment, his eyes met mine. There was a peculiar wildness in their usually tranquil depths, something deliciously feral but tinged with an exquisite tenderness that, if anything, made him appear even more breathtaking. His obsidian eyes smoldered beneath his lashes, but there was something buried within it that was more powerful that lust, more intoxicating than wine. Part of me wanted to break from his intense gaze, but I couldn’t turn away.
“Naruto…” he breathed quietly, unthinkingly, before he drew me closer to him, his lips pressing against my cheek. His lips, still slightly parted, began to slowly travel along the curve of my jaw and just behind my ear like before. However, he seemed more sure of himself, knowing how thoroughly I enjoyed and could respond to such touches. Sasuke seemed to be in no rush, seeming to savor the taste of my skin on his tongue or how easily a particular caress would draw out sighs, mere exhales of pleasure that steadily grew to moans as his lips continued their kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck. His hands traveled down the length of my torso almost hungrily, the sensation of his inquisitive fingers exploring every dip and curve along my body giving me the delicious contradiction of vulnerability and of power. While his hands could do anything they wanted to, I loved how my body seemed to hold such fascination for him--it was a weapon I’d never even known I possessed. His possessive kisses brought his body and mine were pressed ever closer, his hips grinding into mine in a way that, while unintentional, would cause the both of us to gasp with a surprised pleasure. It wasn’t the first time our bodies had been so close to one another, but never in the same way as now--I was painfully aware now of how only thin layers of cloth separated his skin from mine… and as desire burned in my veins, I craved nothing more to run my hands along the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders, to inhale the warm musk of his tanned skin.
Seeming to crave more than “mere” kisses, Sasuke’s caresses grew more amorous as he traveled further down my neck, his lips sucking on the skin before his tongue would tease the area with a few decisive strokes. I heard him make a low noise in his throat amidst my own breathy moans, a contented sound like the “mmm” one makes while indulging in some delectable repast. Though a far cry from the carnal groans I wanted to hear from him, there was a peculiar satisfaction in knowing I could entice him far more than I‘d believed I could.
Changing his technique, I felt his teeth graze my neck momentarily. I couldn’t think of why it would make me nervous, but Sasuke must have sensed my apprehension at feeling his teeth on my skin--but in all reality, was biting my neck his idea of a joke? I tried to wriggled from his embrace, but he held onto me and wouldn’t let go. He seemed to find my hesitation more amusing than he did as a sign to stop.
“Calm down, Naruto. I’m pretty sure that you‘ll like this. It may not seem that way--” so he could tell I was skeptical of this statement “--but it’s… well, it’s a ‘torture of delight’, as I’ve heard someone put it,” he murmured soothingly, meeting my eyes with a small smile.
I sighed before I tilted my head ever so slightly to the side, feeling strangely like an unwilling maiden in a vampire tale. I could still feel Sasuke’s cocky smirk as he added, “It’ll actually hurt if you tense up, though. The fact that we’re doing all this means that you’re open-minded as it is--at least let me see if this is something you enjoy, okay?”
He wanted to see if this was something I would enjoy--the simple gravity of his selfless words was enough to silence any further protests on my part. I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaving myself vulnerable to his whims but, at the same time, knowing fully that he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me if he could help it.
Sasuke started nibbling on the skin gently, just as I had anticipated, but soothed it with his lips and tongue before any pain had a chance to sneak in. His bites-and-kisses routine had the peculiar, but infinitely pleasurable, effect of causing the nerves there to be aroused, but his kisses the only aspect to be felt. He was “torturing” me with his soft nibbles, leaving me only able to sigh in defeat, “You were right, Sasuke…“ and to be reward with a husky snicker between kisses.
Beyond this I couldn’t say much more, for already my senses were being overwhelmed by the haze of lust that had settled in. I could see just as fine as before, but my body seemed unable to focus on anything but the ecstasy of so many sensations, becoming a welcome slave to them: his love bites on my neck and collarbone, his hand sliding up and under my thin cotton shirt to explore what laid hidden under it.
I couldn’t take it any longer, the feeling of his hands rummaging under my shirt and having no gratification--I could tell that if I didn’t give him any indication that I was more than willing to do what he wanted, that he would just satisfy himself but be too polite to take more initiative. I unlaced my arms from around his neck, and helped him get rid of this burden in one quick motion. I slid my t-shirt from me, tossing it to the floor beside the bed carelessly, and there was a sharp but pleased intake of breath on Sasuke’s part as he noticed that I was helping--not preventing--him in doing this. For a moment there was an almost unbearable, lingering moment where his gaze was transfixed, enthralled in a way I’d never seen before. His eyes seemed to take in what they saw as though it were an advent repast, as though he couldn’t get enough of what he saw. It was both a look of indescribable hunger, but also…well, it was mingled with a peculiar sadness that made my heart drop like a stone.
“So beautiful…” he whispered with a shades of sorrow layered within it, his fingertips running lightly along my chest, his lips turning just barely curving into a smile. “But… there’s so many memories of pain here.” His fingers would tap at random areas on my stomach, pectorals, near my shoulders as he said it, as though seeing something painful in each area. I looked down to see where his fingers indicated, but I only saw unmarked flesh.
As if reading my thoughts, Sasuke continued, “These eyes of mine… they can see much more than yours. They can see the scar tissue beneath your skin that your own eyes cannot, the remnants of injuries that your skin did a miraculous job of healing on a superficial level. Like these”--he continued pressing his fingers into seemingly random points on my skin--“are where Haku’s needles pierced you. Your skin’s so smooth and soft--you would never imagine the things that have happened to it along the way.”
I felt shards of ice run through my veins as his eyes shifted to the area just below my right shoulder, the nameless expanse between my chest and collarbone. What he saw there must have horrified him, for his eyes grew wide and for a moment, his fingers trembled before he re-gained control of himself again. This was the one placed I’d been worried about him seeing--not even the fox’s chakra had been able to fully heal it, and even to an eye without the aid of the Sharingan, the scar tissue there told a tale I preferred not to remember. With every fiber of my being, I longed for him to look away or to simply ignore it, but fate was a cruel jester.
“Naruto, who did this to you…?” he asked with shock, his voice actually trembling with both dismay and suppressed rage. He looked at the scar intently, and I noticed for the first time that his eyes had turn to the deep carmine of the Sharingan as he examined the area. The effect of him inspecting the injury he’d caused me, and the blood-red eyes that had condescendingly gazed into mine as he did it… once again I was a powerless slave to my memories…
“That was a nice move with your hand there,” Sasuke sneered, his eyes bright with amusement. “It’s too bad I missed your heart. Either way, you’re out a shoulder and a lung. Forget about sign-weaving--that’s all over now. You can’t even breathe properly, can you?”
He was right, of course--only a split-second shift of my hand had prevented his own from reaching my heart, which had been his original target. But the agony he‘d managed to inflict… oh gods, the pain was beyond comprehension. With each inhale, my lung pressed into his chakra-laced fist, the friction causing a white-hot pain to shoot from my chest to my feet. I could feel my blood seeping from the wound far quicker than my body could replace it, making my head feel horribly light and any attempt to figure out a solution hindered by my deteriorating state. I could hear the demon inside me cackling raucously at my weakness, taunting me to rely on its power once again, like I always did when I was slipping closer to death…
“It’s… it’s nothing, Sasuke.”
I could only think to reply to his loaded question with a simple dismissal of his concern. I didn’t want to remember the Sasuke in the past, nor make any connection between the two. The loving Sasuke who drowned me in kisses and caresses, the murderous Sasuke who had tried to kill me with such bitterness … in my mind, they were two sides of the same coin, two images in the mirror of the same young man. I could no more separate the two than I could separate myself from my nine-tailed demon, but the childish part of me had managed to carry on the self-deception that they were in no way connected, and that I could convince myself that the two eras were neatly compartmentalized. The truth was, “then” and “now” were mere illusions, and the connections made amongst them were ever-winded threads that no amount of love nor time could ever be able to detach. My beloved Sasuke was the Sasuke from the past--only softened by time.
“It happened so long ago, it’s not really a big deal--” I began, but Sasuke cut me off angrily before I could finish placating him. He grabbed my shoulders with his hands, bringing us face-to-face and forcing me to meet his eyes. The burgundy of his eyes seemed to burn into my own, suborning me to return his furious gaze. His hands were much rougher than before, and I was afraid for a moment that he would actually hurt me out of fury. I tried to wriggle out of his bruising grip, but it was like struggling against stone. He was almost frightening with such a towering temper setting his eyes ablaze, so much so I was afraid he would lose control--it wouldn’t have been the first time he had lost himself in his anger.
“Sasuke, let me go!” I begged him, but he only responded coldly, “Not until you stop hiding things from me. You’re outright lying to me, though I don’t what on earth could be so important that you won’t even tell me who on earth did this. Can‘t you see I‘m worried about you? Someone was trying to kill you when they did it--they almost hit your heart! And here you are defending them?!”
He started to bring his hand to the scar, and instinctively I flinched as my body tensed up, expecting his hand to pierce through it again. When the pain didn’t come, I opened my eyes ever so slightly and saw that Sasuke’s eyes had softened. Indeed, his expression had immediately melted into something more tender and apologetic. He lowered his hand to my leg, the touch bearing no passion behind it but instead having the intention of comfort. I tried to smile, as was my pathetic custom when I didn’t know how else to respond to situations such as these. I opened my mouth to try and say whatever words I knew to placate him, but Sasuke’s other hand covered it gently, the simple motion saying all at once I’m sorry for my reaction and let me do the talking.
“Did… did I do this, Naruto? During that one fight?” he asked simply, his down-turned head shadowing his eyes so that I couldn’t see them. I was surprised how quickly he figured it out, but I wouldn’t be the one to mention anything if I could help it.
“You were under the control of the curse mark, you didn’t know what you were doing…” I tried to explain, but he held up a hand to silence me.
“But I did this to you. I… I tried to kill you. What kind of friend would do that?”
Sasuke fell silent as he lifted his head once more, his eyes narrowed in pain and dangerously glassy as he refused to meet my eyes this time. I leaned over to give his cheek a gentle stroke, to assure him with my actions that all was forgiven. But he swiftly moved his head out of my reach, still refusing any actions on my part to show forgiveness, or even love. He swung his legs from my hips, sitting once again on the bed across from me, this time really seeming as thought he was too ashamed of himself to even touch me. His features were as composed and perfect as a contemplative Buddha, arms crossed in front of his chest in a way that seemed as thought it were a crutch verses the stoic arm-folding he always assumed. From the way he was sitting, it were as though he was prepared to sit there for hours if he felt it were necessary, willing to torment himself with self-deprecating thoughts that would ultimately do nothing to heal the past.
But as he continued to sit there, restraining himself and putting a strain on me as well, I knew he didn’t want to hurt me by doing so. But… well, nevertheless, the fact that he was so heavily emphasizing the past was far more painful than his attempts to move on as I‘d hoped he would. His kisses had proved more medicinal than his apologies; his sighs of pleasure had proven more curative than this fruitless effort of denying himself the one thing a man craved above all else. The intimacy involved in making love would prove more therapeutic than this torturous self-denial ever could. But knowing Sasuke, his will of iron could not be bent.
It was such a painful feeling, at once frustration and a vague sense of rejection--how I’d yearned for it, and for so much more than a carnal satisfaction. I craved him, pure and simple. I knew no better way to show him how deeply my feelings ran than to give him more than I’d given anyone else, to share myself with him in a way that was a complete but welcome surrender. More than anything, I wanted to give himself myself, in the hopes that the gift was something worthwhile in his eyes. But he denied me the choice to even give him pleasure, if nothing else.
“Sasuke, please, look at me,” I pleaded softly, hoping with my whole heart that he would at least lift his eyes and look at me. I felt a glimmer of satisfaction when his eyes lifted slightly to meet mine, his gaze a bit sullen but strangely attractive with such a moody tint. I smiled as best as I could with such rampant emotions battering against one another, praying what I said would come out the way I meant it to.
“I… I want this, you know,” I began unsurely, and Sasuke lifted his eyebrows the same moment his gaze turned deadpan. He asked me with wordless rhetoric, And what guy doesn’t want sex? That fact means nothing.
“It’s not trivial to me, whether you think so or not. Yeah, it feels good--really good--but that’s not the only reason. It’s… well, it’s more healing than you think it is. It’s like everything you did to me back then is being erased little by little, every we‘re doing now replacing what you did back then. To me, you’re apologizing and repenting without saying a word, or even realizing you’re doing it. That’s all I really need, Sasuke. Your apologies won’t solve a thing if it’ll only serve as a way to further torture yourself--in all honesty, it makes me feel a lot worse than if you didn’t say anything at all. I want to give you everything that I can offer, and receive all that you’re willing to give. Trust me, you don’t know how badly I crave that. That would heal the past far better than your self-hatred will. So please… just… Sasuke, I can plead with you if you really want me to.”
Hating how pitiful my words sounded, hating how vulnerable I was in front of him, I could only hang my head down and shield my face from his piercing eyes, trying with all my might to not lose control of my emotions. I stared determinedly at my hands, noticing even then with disgust how scarred they were, the skin rough in several places with calluses--looking at Sasuke’s own hands, I saw that his were as smooth and graceful as a pianist’s. Even down to our hands, I was as flawed and coarse as he was immaculate and elegant. But wasn’t that was how things worked in our case? I was perpetually confined to linger in his shadow, always hoping I was good enough for him. But in the end, I knew I never would be. I mean, what kind of person had to practically beg someone to make love to them, and had to explain themselves for it? Was the idea that repulsive to him?
“You… you really want this, don’t you?”
Sasuke’s words took me by surprise, mystified but with an edge of relief that was more encouraging than it should have been. Glancing up reluctantly, I saw that his eyes were just as confused as his words implied, but the slight smile on his lips told me that my pathetic monologue had reached him in some way. If even if I didn’t deserve it, I could at least take comfort in the fact that I had soothed a few of his unnecessary concerns.
“More than I probably should, but yeah, I do,” I answered, unable to keep a grin from creeping onto my own lips. “What’s done is done, Sasuke. If you want to mend things, an apology’s only going to make the both of us feel worse about it. I’ve done my best to leave it behind me--maybe it’s time you forgave yourself. I never loved you any less, but…”
My thoughts trailed off into darker territory as I was faced at last with the unnamed fear that had eaten at me this entire time like a cancer: what if my feelings were no longer requited? Or… what if this were an act of kindness? He didn’t usually have the cruelty to shove someone away, and he was a teenager with hormones… but what if I cared more for him than he did for me? What if he merely did this to pacify me and to satisfy his own lust--nothing more?
“But Sasuke, if you don’t feel the same as before, or if they’ve have diminished, then--”
His lips stole the words from mine once more, silencing me instantly. Though the kiss didn’t linger like the others, the warmth of his mouth stayed with me even after Sasuke pulled away ever so slightly. I could feel his moist breath on my lips as the moments stretched, his ebony eyes burning into mine with more intensity than I’d ever seen before. I had watched him countless times as he plotted strategies in his head, but even then, I’d never seen him so focused and thoughtful.
“Never,” he replied with a shade of a smile. “In some things, at least, I’m just as stubborn as you are--don’t start implying that I’ve changed that much. It’s been a while, but my tastes haven’t really changed, you know. I still love the same people I did before, I still crave”--his fingertips ran lightly tenderly along my cheek--“the same things. And we were in the middle of something, weren’t we?”
His faint smile grew into that arrogant half-smile that I’ve always loved and loathed, condescension and seduction tidily bundled into a smirk that always left me foolishly stunned by how breathtaking he was. As his eyes traveled down, and they smoldered with desire, I realized that I was still shirtless and a bit unkempt from our earlier kisses. I felt myself blush from his gaze, but there was something so gratifying about the fascination my body seemed to hold for him.
It was almost too much, his ravenous eyes and my body positively humming with an unfulfilled yearning for him. I didn’t just want this intimacy anymore--my body needed it as desperately as oxygen, and oh, how lust burned in my veins. Meeting his gaze with as much audacity as I knew to muster, I said in a rather rushed whisper, “Looking at me is great and all, but you know that’s not enough. C’mon, Sasuke--if you’re gonna take me, do it now. ”
“Gladly,” he retorted with a laugh before he pressed me back down onto the bed with the urgent roughness of a lover, but gentle enough to make sure I knew his intentions were driven by more than lust. My back hitting the mattress was a blessed familiarity as my blood sang with pleasure, my body almost trembling now with anticipation. Before I could even gather my thoughts, the soft pressure of his lips met mine once again, and it felt so perfect, as if we really were made for one another. The ambrosial taste of him taking over every one of my senses, the heat of his body like drowning in warmth, the nervous exhilaration of being able to savor a once forbidden act between lovers… my body was actually trembling with anticipation. I remembered with a bit of a smile what I’d said what seemed like an eternity ago: “I’m not laughing because it’s funny--I’m just psyched, that’s all.” Though the circumstances had been infinitely different back then, the same physical manifestation of such excitement made my body quiver beneath his, made my heart thunder in my chest like a drum and my blood turn to fire as it sent a white-hot flame through my body.
The warm pressure of his hand on my thigh snapped my thoughts sharply from brief memory. It had been resting there for a few moments, but the slow shift of it inward and towards a far more erogenous place had immediately been awarded my attention. He must have taken my gasp of surprise as something negative, for Sasuke hesitated for just a moment, his hand lifting momentarily in the same slight apprehension. I put my hand over his, guiding it to the illicit region he’d been subtly inching towards. Pressing his hand there much rougher than he probably would have done himself, I felt the inferno burning my blood flare where his hand touched, and an animalistic moan erupted from me as pleasure throbbed there with a force that was almost dizzying.
“You like that, do you?” he purred in my ear, his voice wonderfully husky and rough from his own desire. I felt his teeth gently graze the lobe there, biting gently and eliciting yet another pleasurably surprised “ahhh” from me. The warm breath from his chuckle played against the skin there--even his taunts were a temptation of the senses. He removed my hand from his and experimented with these vigorous caresses himself, and… oh gods, it was infinitely more satisfying when he was the one to be touching me in such a way. The rhythm of his tongue and his hand were synchronized in a way that was almost maddening, for I couldn’t do much else but groan into his mouth--and even then, he managed to turn such things to his own advantage, sliding his tongue deeper when my lips parted further in a sigh the same moment his precise touches tantalized the hardening arousal between my legs.
“Sa… Sasuke…” I whispered thoughtlessly, running my fingers down the length of his back, feeling finely defined muscle beneath the cloth of his shirt. Wanting to feel his satin skin beneath my fingertips, I laced the bottom of his shirt in my fist so I could slide it from him, to have the press of his bare skin against my own. With as much care as I could managed, I slipped it up his torso with a leisurely pace before casting it to the floor with my own shirt, relishing the slow unveiling of his body, as beautiful and perfect as I would have expected. The subtle definition of his abdominal muscles, his slender stomach, the honey-toned skin of his pectorals, the elegant curve of his collar bones beneath the arch of his neck--everything about him was beauty and power, the softness of his skin paired with the solid muscles just beneath it. Sasuke’s body was so graceful, as though it’d been sculpted by a loving virtuoso--like one of Rome’s marble gods given a soul, flawless but wonderfully warm and alive.
I could only gaze at him with a strange mingling of wonder and desire as moments stretched on, running my inquisitive fingers along the smooth skin of his back and the carefully developed muscle there. Sasuke’s eyes fluttered closed with bliss as my hands slid along his skin, and I could feel goose bumps rise ever so slightly as a small shudder of pleasure made his body tremble. But I had no desire to rush this--after years of yearning, I wanted to savor the feel of his skin against me and the mingling of our body heat. It was heaven being so close to him--without clothing in the way, it seemed almost deviant for our bodies to be almost intertwined with one another. There was something so refreshingly new about it all--certainly we’d never been quite this intimate with one another, save for a stolen kiss away from Kakashi’s eyes. To be entangled in our bodies and kisses after years of yearning was the sweetest sort of delayed gratification.
His kisses melted against my lips like a fluid, ethereal dream; a tangible reverie that tasted of vanilla, cinnamon, exotic spices that dissolved on my tongue. The fiery caresses of Sasuke’s hand between my thighs was like a ribbon of scarlet, tying my whole body in taut muscles and quivering moans as his artful strokes spread liquid fire through my blood. His carnal touches caused my hips to unintentionally buck and press even harder into his hand in time with his caresses, and a symphony of low groans and lust-tinged snickers to emerge from the curtain of silence that hung in our room.
I felt Sasuke’s fingers play with the zipper on my sweatpants, the last barrier from a far more forbidden sin beneath. He hesitated, breath held in his chest and the realization clear in his onyx eyes as we both met one another’s eyes: once we did this, there was no turning back. Sure, we’d filched precious moments from watchful eyes, where hands had explored the most intimate of regions and experimentation had been merely that. But it had never progressed beyond curious fingers feeling unfamiliar curves and arousing foreign sensations; always we’d kept in the mind the fact that we could be caught at any moment, so the exotic pleasures of lovers had been all but impossible for us to savor.
But now… there was no question in any of our minds what to do next. Smiling with a bit of mischief, I allowed Sasuke to part my legs a bit further and let him know with these action that I craved everything as heartily as he did. I watched with held breath as he slowly slid the zipper down, his exquisite restraint borne of our mutual inexperience and the novelty of the inevitable act sure to follow. With a whisper-soft release of his breath, he slipped my sweatpants, then boxers, from my legs and let them flutter to the floor silently.
There was a stretch of stillness where we both gazed at one another, his eyes consumed by awe and an undeniable hunger as they traveled slowly down my body--I could follow the trail of his gaze as it moved down my chest, the line of my stomach, my hips, and… with a furious flush rushing to my face, I realized that he was also looking at the most clandestine part of me that I’d never let another person see. I would have felt utterly ashamed and snatched my clothes right back had I not glimpsed the smile that started to curve on his lips. He reached over a hand and gently ran it down the arc of my cheek, letting it traveling airily down my chest and to the pelvic bones that just barely peeked out against the skin. The touch felt at once so intimate and tender that, while a gasp of pleasure willed itself to escape, my throat had trapped them.