![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sirona_ficsAuthor: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sirona_gs
Title: All things of dearest value hang on slender strings
Rating: R
Word count: ~7,100 this part, ~15,900 overall
Summary: Nothing sours a village’s mood faster than a heatwave, and with the anniversary of the Fourth Ninja War on the horizon, the Nanadaime Hokage knows something must be done about it. That’s where Sabaku no Gaara comes in, but Sasuke is not best pleased with his involvement.
Warnings: m/m sex, implied past torture
A/N: This was written for the (sadly) last round of the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sn_exchange, for kitarin. Enormous thanks go to aurrai for being an amazing beta, cheerleader and slavedriver in equal parts. She is truly a saint for having put up with me and put so much of herself into this story. The title comes from a quote by Edmund Waller.
Part One
Naruto wakes up slowly – he is perfectly warm and drowsy, and the sheets smell like his favourite scent in the whole world. He inhales deeply and turns his face further into his pillow. He’s clutching something unyielding to his chest, he realises; something that feels oddly familiar. He starts to look down just as an exhale hits the side of his face. He freezes, then he turns his head very slowly so as not to startle the sleeping intruder, and finds himself nose-to-nose with an unconscious Sasuke.
Sasuke hmmms and curls closer to him. Their lips are practically touching now, only a couple of inches apart. Naruto studies the beloved face from closer than he’s ever been allowed before without them pummelling the stuffing out of each other. He takes in the deep dark valleys under Sasuke’s eyes, making him look so very much like Itachi used to. How long has it been since Sasuke last slept?! And how has he not noticed those before? Has Sasuke been concealing them with a jutsu of some sort? Never mind that, why isn’t Sasuke sleeping? Is he having nightmares again? The thought worries Naruto enough to make him snap out of his daze.
He glances at the open window – dawn is only just starting to break over the sky. It’s very early – must be just after 5 a.m., but Naruto is wide awake, having been asleep for longer than he normally has time for. He makes to stretch – and realises just what it is he has been clutching to his chest all this time. He stares at Sasuke’s hand held tight in his, a puzzled expression on his face, and then suddenly the memory of his dream slams back into him and he inhales sharply in surprise. The pale, dark man from his dreams had tugged the string tight, almost to breaking point; then he had walked back slowly, letting the string wrap back up around the two broken halves of his heart, knitting them whole. He had moulded his chest closed with his hands, had taken Naruto’s wrist and tied the leftover red string over it. Naruto had grabbed at the withdrawing hand, tugged a bit of string away from his chest and tied a matching length around the pale wrist.
Naruto blinks rapidly when Sasuke exhales in a huff, breath teasing at his lips. They tingle pleasantly, and Naruto realises that Sasuke is curled up in bed next to him. A single move from either of them will brush their lips together, and to his surprise there is nothing he wants more in the world. Sasuke’s arm is warm against his chest where he clutches it, and he’s never felt anything better than holding his best friend and rival’s hand. He has no idea why this is so easy when nothing between them ever has been, but it is.
He can’t think properly, not with Sasuke’s eyelids fluttering like that, the bruised skin of his cheekbones close enough to nuzzle gently, and Sasuke smelling like that and how come he’s never realised it was Sasuke’s smell that made him so happy?
Unlike Naruto, Sasuke snaps awake immediately, urgently scanning his surroundings for possible danger. The only thing he discovers is Naruto, pressed tightly against his front, gently nipping at his parted lips. He catches his breath in surprise; Naruto takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in his mouth, twining deliciously with his. Sasuke stays very, very still, a deer in the headlights – Naruto shifts closer, slipping a muscled thigh between his legs. Lips catch and drag against his – he is still dazed from the thought that Naruto is actually kissing him – Naruto bites down. The small shock helps convince him that this is real. The late morning light shines into azure eyes dancing with warmth – Naruto is awake, then, and Sasuke’s lying next to him. Sasuke had been sleeping next to him, he realises with a rush of displeasure. He must have dropped off, lulled by the peaceful rising and falling of Naruto’s chest and dawn lightening the pitch-black sky.
Naruto pulls back after a moment, discouraged by Sasuke’s lack of response. He looks at him, takes in the dazed look in his eyes, the way he’s clutching at the sheets, as if afraid to let go.
“Did I talk in my sleep?” Naruto asks, figuring that if there wasn’t going to be any kissing, at least they could talk.
“You called my name,” Sasuke rasps, throat dry from sleep.
“And you came. And you stayed.”
“You wouldn’t let go of my hand.”
Naruto scoffs at Sasuke’s feeble protest. “As if you couldn’t break my hold! What if I never want to let go of your hand again? Will you still stay?”
Sasuke knows that despite Naruto’s teasing grin they’re not talking about handholding anymore. He hesitates, taking in the way Naruto’s eyes widen at his prolonged silence, and answers simply, “Yes.”
***
Sasuke walks the perimeter, heart lighter than it has been for almost two decades. His lips still tingle from Naruto’s snatched kisses as they had rushed to dress and jutsu to the clearing – it had been much later in the day than either of them was used to getting up at. The knowing glances from their fellow shinobi do not go unnoticed, but he’s in much too good of a mood to care about the bruise he found on the side of his neck that Naruto had claimed for his own that morning; he is perfectly capable of healing it, of course, but he opts to leave it as a declaration of intent. He smiles darkly – there’s an activity on the planner today that is going to give him the opportunity he’s been looking for to get his own back at Kakashi.
Everyone at the committee had been profoundly unsurprised that it had been Iruka-sensei to come up with what promised to be the most enjoyable event of the festival – paintballing. It’s fun for all the ages, and it’s scheduled for noon today. It’s already gone 11 am; the enclosure is being set up right now, complete with chakra-infused metal wiring to stop the audience getting paint all over them by missiles gone awry, and huge boulders scattered across the space for players to take cover behind, courtesy of the Akimichi clan’s Baika no Jutsu. The paintballs are being lined up, to be dispatched by hand (with the help of a little chakra flare). It is a great exercise to improve the kids’ aim and chakra control; with the added incentive of getting one over on their senseis, the event promises to be the most popular one in the entire festival – even the Nanadaime himself is participating.
Sasuke makes his way over there, circling milling families and groups of kids with their heads together and evil smiles on their usually cherubic faces. Iruka-sensei stands guard by the neck-high pile of paintballs, divided conveniently in compact egg-shaped pouches to be strapped to one’s belt. Naruto is there already, chatting happily with his old teacher and eyeing up the nearest pouch; he’s hat-and-coat-less now, for fear of ruining them with the paint – he’ll never hear the end of it from Ino if he does. He notices Sasuke’s approach and sends him a private smile, just a hitch of his lips, but, oh, his eyes, they promise to fulfil Sasuke’s every wish and fantasy as soon as the day is over. Sasuke returns it, lets his own eyes fall to stare intently at Naruto’s lips as he walks past him and watches him blush and squirm with a twist of warmth in his chest.
The contestants line up around the inside of the vast enclosure that takes up half of the designated beach space, all of them dressed in protective coveralls, each clutching at their first choice of projectile. Naruto is standing directly opposite Sasuke, making no secret of the fact that as soon as the whistle goes he’s heading straight for him. His shit-eating grin is stretching his face wide, and his eyes twinkle behind the protective plastic shades Iruka-sensei had insisted they all put on. Sasuke wishes there was a way to discourage him until he’s finished with a certain silver-haired pervert, but knows better than to hold out hope for reprieve.
He eyes his target carefully. Kakashi is looking as bored as always, nose stuck in his ragged copy of Icha Icha Violence, the hand not holding the book stuffed in the coverall’s only pocket. Naruto notices the direction of his gaze; his eyes widen and he lets out an involuntary snort of laughter. He looks back at Sasuke and nods surreptitiously – they’re on, then; Kakashi remains oblivious.
The whistle goes and the enclosure is filled with yelling, war cries and victorious laughter. Shinobi take their wars very seriously, even mock ones. Sasuke doesn’t need to signal at Naruto – a shared look is enough. Together they dodge missiles from Konohamaru and Tenten’s teams, only barely manage to duck under Lee’s deadly aim and let go several paintballs that blur with speed as they reach Kakashi. Their teacher sidesteps their trajectory without even looking up from his book. Unfortunately for him, Sasuke and Naruto are no longer his twelve-year-old genin students. The two paintballs collide right above where his head is now, showering him in blue and red paint from top to toe. He stands there looking astonished as his assailants celebrate, one smirking smugly and the other leaning one arm on the first’s shoulder, bent in two with laughter. That is, until a well-aimed projectile smacks him straight on his arse, propelling him forward to the ground. He looks up with an affronted expression, rubbing at the painful soon-to-be-bruise – Gaara smirks at him from the other side of the enclosure, completely spotless.
Sasuke stifles the urge to laugh at the scowl on Naruto’s face, but a snort escapes him none-the-less. This only serves to remind Naruto of his original purpose – he’s back on his feet in a flash, advancing menacingly on him. Crap, he thinks with a small burst of panic; he reaches in his pouch to arm himself. Naruto grins wolfishly just before Sasuke’s attacked from behind, jumped on by two clones and held still long enough for Naruto’s bright orange paintball to splatter him all over. Right, he thinks and hefts his own weapon, narrowing his eyes. He sees Naruto’s smile slip from his face; oh shit, he lip-reads before he pounces.
***
As soon as all the paintballs are used up and everyone but Gaara has at least one splatter on their person, the event ends. There aren’t any winners – that isn’t the point – but the losers are clearly marked by only their eyes being visible in a stripe of clean skin across their faces. They call it a day – it’s gone 6 p.m. anyway, but also, everyone needs to clean up quite desperately.
“Are you on duty tonight?” Naruto asks, expression innocently hopeful.
“No, thank god. I need a long soak in the bath after that.”
“Excellent!” Naruto gloats. “My place it is.”
Sasuke tries to swallow, throat suddenly dry from anticipation.
They remove their coveralls, along with all the other participants – they go in a huge pile that Yamato has promised to hose down before putting them away at Naruto’s request. Sasuke would not be the least bit surprised if the festival becomes a yearly occurrence – everyone has had a chance to relax more in the past two days than during the previous six months.
Naruto is having a difficult time leaving the place – almost everyone present wants a chance to thank their Hokage personally for the wonderful day. Naruto, being Naruto, can’t say no to a single person – so he chats, and smiles, and nods, all the while barely able to stop himself from glancing at Sasuke every few moments. Sasuke can’t stop looking at him either – the tall, imposing figure with the widest smile in the world, his kindness, strength and sheer love for the world and his people shining clearly through everything he does. How, Sasuke wonders, can someone like Naruto limit himself to loving just one person out of a whole village?
The answer is clear in the way Naruto smiles at him from the middle of the throng of bodies and excited faces. He can’t. He will always have to share Naruto’s love with the world. But, Sasuke knows, he will be the one to welcome Naruto home in the evenings; he will be the one to take care of him when he is tired, to hold him when he is upset, to kiss him goodnight and then kiss him awake again in the morning. To give him all that he is, to dedicate his life to making him happy. He may not be Naruto’s only love, but he will be the rock around which Naruto’s world shapes itself. Sasuke finds that it is enough for him.
Naruto finally extricates himself from the villagers and hastily makes his way over to Sasuke.
“Come on, quickly, before someone else thinks of something else I should be doing right now,” he pleads and, grabbing his hand, tugs him quickly away. Sasuke matches his pace easily, just as eager to get away. They jump up on the roofs when they get back inside the village, hopping from building to building with exhilarating speed.
Naruto looks at him over his shoulder, grins his face-splitting smile at him; it holds an edge Sasuke recognises from years ago. It happens less and less often these days, but there are still times when Naruto looks at him like this, a faint surprise in his eyes and smile, as if he didn’t expect Sasuke to still be there, by his side, chasing the wind with him. Sasuke hates that look, hates what that look implies, hates that it holds years of loneliness and pain and fighting to be better, stronger, to prove that he is worthy enough to bring his most important person back home. It causes an unpleasant tightness in his chest and stinging in his eyes and the back of his throat.
Sasuke shakes his contemplation at the sight of the Hokage tower rushing at them with dizzying speed. Naruto only slows down when they jump through the open window and into his suite of rooms on the top floor. Sasuke follows him through, suddenly dry-mouthed. He has been in this small sitting room hundreds of times before but, strangely, it’s as if this is the first time he’s seen it.
Naruto steps out of his sandals, picks them up and carries them – past the large squashy orange sofa, the small coffee table covered in mugs, magazines, scrolls, and empty instant noodle cartons, past the tidy bookshelf near the far wall and the not-so-tidy desk heaped with more scrolls and paperwork in the nearby corner, and over to the front door where he drops them by the door frame. Sasuke tentatively follows suit, bare feet treading softly onto a yellow carpet spotted with large red swirls. Naruto stands by the door, looking at him, drinking him in.
“So, uh, I guess – shower?” he says, rubbing at the back of his head uncertainly, eyes peeking from under lowered blond eyelashes, and suddenly it hits Sasuke just how nervous Naruto really is about this. They stand there looking at each other for an unknown time; shadows are starting to drift into the room from the open window – evening is falling slowly over Konoha. Naruto’s eyes trace his face, linger on his eyes, nose, mouth, jaw line, falling lower to fasten onto the bruise he had left this morning, still clearly visible. His eyes narrow, his nostrils flare; he inhales sharply and licks his dry lips unconsciously – and it’s like a dam breaking loose.
Sasuke surges forward, pinning Naruto to the door with his body, catching his wrists and holding on tight. He leans into him and brings their lips close, so close; his nose twitches at the smell of paint, and sweat, and ramen, and Naruto. He inhales slowly, burying his nose just behind Naruto’s ear, gathering in his scent, relishing the way Naruto sighs, leans his head back on the wall to give him more space, presses closer to him at the same time. The smell of paint is jarring and he resents it; he wants to smell Naruto, he wants Naruto’s scent mixing with his own.
“Sasuke,” Naruto murmurs, voice husky with want. Sasuke licks at the heated skin on offer and Naruto shudders against him.
Mine, Sasuke thinks as he scrapes his teeth down the tanned neck, and yes, and oh god, finally when Naruto turns his head and presses their lips together at last, tongues searching and finding each other. Sasuke wishes there was a Sharingan for the senses, so that he could memorise the way Naruto’s breath hitches in his chest, the way he twists his wrists to free them and turns his fingers to clutch at Sasuke’s, the way he raises his leg and hooks it behind Sasuke’s thigh, pulls him desperately further into his body with a quiet moan, the way their clothes are a hindrance not to be borne, the way Naruto’s tongue traces every part of his mouth, the way their lips rub together, too delicious to leave alone.
Naruto growls when they separate for breath, “Clothes off” in a deep seductive rumble that passes straight through Sasuke’s chest and pools heat low in his belly. Naruto bites hard onto Sasuke’s lip when Sasuke pushes into him, sliding their damp arousals together, then soothes it with his tongue in apology. Sasuke releases Naruto’s hands, which immediately lift to grab hold of his hair, tilt his head so that he can kiss him deeper.
“You said something about a shower?” Sasuke murmurs against his lips, and Naruto nods vigorously.
He turns and leads the way into his bedroom without looking back to see if Sasuke follows. Sasuke tugs his ANBU uniform off piece by piece – the protective vest, the sleeveless top, the metal-plated gloves all find their way to the bedroom floor revealing pale, scarred skin to Naruto’s heated gaze. Sasuke reaches for his training pants and Naruto looks away, cheeks rising with a different kind of heat now, suddenly shy in the face of a naked Sasuke. Sasuke wants to smirk, but just the thought of an equally naked Naruto makes his hands shake where they unwrap the bandages strapping weapons to his legs.
Naruto pulls his own shirt, training pants and boxers off quickly, and steps out of them looking uncertain. Sasuke stands there, fighting with his own nervousness to let Naruto look his fill. Naruto’s eyes are a little glazed, Sasuke notes – a surge of heat flares low in his abdomen at the sight of blow pupils drowning out the blue. He shifts, leaning slowly towards him, and Naruto comes out of his daze, his blush deepening as he stares into Sasuke’s eyes for a moment. Biting his lip, he turns at last and leads the way into the shower, muscles shifting under tanned skin. They enter the bathroom one after the other; Sasuke nearly drools at the sight of the wide bathtub taking up almost the entire wall. He wants desperately to sink into a warm bath, let it soothe his sore muscles and refresh his body. He knows his and Naruto’s hair is filthy, the only thing left unprotected by the makeshift coveralls, but for a moment it’s all he can think about.
He feels fingers trail over his shoulder, a palm caress his nape soothingly before Naruto moves around him and starts the water to fill the bathtub. Sasuke looks at him with grateful eyes and a small smile. Naruto smiles back gently, catches his hand and pushes at his side, guiding him to climb in. Sasuke does; with a sigh of delight he slips under the warm water. Naruto opens a jar and sprinkles a handful of bath salts in the bath; the scent of bergamot fills the room. He steps over the side and sits down opposite Sasuke, dunking his head in the water quickly. Sasuke frowns at him, reaches for his hand and tugs and prods and mutters at him until Naruto has shifted and is sitting between Sasuke’s legs, leaning his back against his chest and hiding his smile. He drops his head on Sasuke’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. Sasuke kisses the wet shoulder gently. Their arousal simmers under the surface, not as urgent as it had been before the slight awkwardness of undressing in front of one another intentionally for the first time.
Naruto reaches for the soap and turns in Sasuke’s arms. He kisses him softly, just a peck of the lips, before he starts soaping up his skin, sliding the bar slowly over muscles, bruises from training, scars – some healed long ago, some more recent; along elbows and knees and feet and thighs and stomach and neck. He makes him dunk his head to wet his hair, reaches for the shampoo to clean it when Sasuke takes the soap from him and starts returning his ministrations. Naruto works carefully, wary not to let suds fall into black eyes. Sasuke reaches around to wash Naruto’s back while he presses their slick fronts together. The slide makes Naruto throw his head back in pleasure and groan, deepening the contact.
“Here, Sasuke,” he directs him to wash the shampoo out. Sasuke does, shifting further between Naruto’s spread thighs, holding onto the sides for balance. Naruto quickly rubs at his scalp, rinsing it and urging him back up.
He kisses him then – just because he can. He raises his arms to lock them behind Sasuke’s neck and lowers himself to sit on Sasuke’s thighs, turns his head to deepen the kiss. Sasuke pulls him closer, soapy hands sliding over the sinewy back, tracing his spine, caressing each bump with careful fingers. One hand slips lower to fasten around a taut buttock and Naruto moans into his mouth, the needy sound echoing around the room.
They slide against each other, more and more insistently with each moment of contact. Their arousals rub deliciously together, faster and faster. Sasuke reaches between them and curls long fingers around both of them, stroking firmly. Naruto breaks the kiss, throws his head back and whimpers, gritting his teeth at the feel of it.
“Fuck,” he drawls breathlessly when Sasuke dips his thumb inside his slit, hips jerking reflexively and thighs tightening around Sasuke’s back. Sasuke’s other hand descends into the water and a finger probes between the spread ass cheeks, rubs relentlessly around the rim of the small hole, making Naruto yelp and slam himself forward into Sasuke’s hold, thrusting hard.
“Sasuke,” he groans, muffling the sound into his neck. Sasuke bites his lip at the feel of Naruto’s breath tickling his skin and speeds up his strokes, trying to thrust up himself – but the heavy body on top of him limits his movements.
“Oh, god,” he manages instead, and “Naruto”, and that voice saying his name makes Naruto lose it completely. He bites hard onto the firm shoulder as he jerks again and again, spilling himself all over Sasuke’s twitching stomach.
Sasuke strains desperately for his own release, letting Naruto’s limp member slip from his hold and tightening his hand around his painfully rigid one, mind overwhelmed with the sight of Naruto taking his pleasure from him, just needing that last sensation to tip him over. Naruto curls around him, holding him tightly.
“Let go,” he whispers into Sasuke’s ear softly. “Sasuke,” he sighs and sucks firmly onto the already bruised neck.
Sasuke’s eyes roll into the back of his head as his climax crashes over him, leaving him shaking. He rests his head on Naruto’s shoulder, clutching at him tightly enough to hurt. He sits there for a while, catching his breath, relishing being so close to the one person he has no qualms about letting get so near, burrow under the mask keeping the outside world at a distance.
“The water’s getting cold. Feel like getting out yet?” Naruto asks, pulling back slightly to look at him.
“Yeah.”
They help each other out of the tub, a trickle of chakra making sure their unsteady legs don’t slip on the drenched floor. Naruto looks down with a chuckle – they haven’t been too careful about the water actually staying in the bath. He reaches for the towels thrown over the metal bar, passes one over to Sasuke and gets distracted watching him dry himself off.
Sasuke smirks, drops his towel, grabs the dry one from Naruto’s slack fingers and rubs it briskly over his dripping frame. Naruto bats his hands away after a minute, rubbing at his multicoloured hair briskly. They never got to wash it, but he doesn’t mind too much. He could just as easily do that tomorrow morning.
The bed beckons them, crisp sheets folded down invitingly. The sight reminds Naruto of something.
“Sasuke.”
Sasuke turns, wary at that tone. Oh god, let Naruto not say this has been a mistake.
“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”
Sasuke looks at him blankly.
“You look like Itachi. How long has it been since you’ve had a decent night’s sleep?”
Sasuke winces.
“Can we maybe not talk about that?”
Naruto scowls. “Not when my boyfriend seems to be killing himself without me realising.”
The warmth in Sasuke’s chest returns.
“Dobe,” he murmurs and tugs him closer.
Naruto’s scowl remains, but the kiss gets rid of it quickly enough.
“We’re not done,” he protests weakly.
“You’re right about that,” Sasuke smirks. “It’s a lovely bed. Let’s mess it up.”
***
It takes Sasuke another two days to completely wash out the paint from his hair. The annoyance is made marginally better by the fact that Kakashi looks like he’ll be sporting a blue rinse for at least four more days. In all honesty, nothing much can piss him off at the moment, not with Naruto filling his days with little smiles, stolen kisses and heated looks. He’s still a little sore from this morning – he’d have to remember not to wind Naruto up so much with the clear indication that sex is on the cards. He hasn’t checked, but he thinks he will very likely have bruises on his hips from where Naruto gripped him to keep him still as he thrust as deep as he could go inside him.
They had spent the day before resting, walking, arguing – simply being together. There hadn’t been an event to judge, so Naruto had taken his time strolling through the throng of villagers and catching up on all the gossip and goings-on – who had given birth, who was going out with whom, who was getting married – the everyday details that his hectic life as their leader left him with little time to follow. Sasuke marvelled at the way Naruto remembered every name, every family connection, every detail of his people’s lives. Unlike Kakashi, Naruto is not just a shrewd military leader but a dedicated civic one, too. Under his governance the village and its people prosper like they haven’t for decades.
Today is sports day – there is sand shuriken evasion, running on water, swimming lengths, chakra moulding, speed eating and as many challenges Gai and Lee can come up with. Naruto is extremely busy – all the winners to be praised, losers to be consoled, speeches to be made – Sasuke leaves him to get on with it. He confers with his ANBU instead, all of them but the four on duty dressed in civilian clothing, so that none of the villagers suspect that the small group goofing around the dango stand are the most elite fighters of the village. Lee has taken a break from Gaara-baiting, and so has Neji – though his is a rather different sort of baiting. Sasuke is just grateful that the Godaime Kazekage has mellowed considerably in the past few years, and that he doesn’t have to deal with the results of his Sand Coffin jutsu on his men.
Gaara looks at Sasuke now and he knows that he and Naruto have worked it out. Sasuke seems happy in a way Gaara has never seen, and earlier Naruto had looked content with life for the first time in a very long while. Gaara wonders how the two will decide to let Konoha know that their Hokage and ANBU captain have a somewhat more than professional relationship, especially considering the fact that such fraternisation between the Hokage and the leader of Konoha’s special defence squad will not be endorsed by everyone. Gaara would go as far as to say that Sasuke may have to resign from the position of Captain over this. Gaara is certain that Sasuke has considered this.
When it comes, the revelation is handled in a typically Naruto-ish way.
“Oi, teme! Come over here! Gai wants to take some pictures!”
Sasuke wanders over unhurriedly while Gai snaps away at the winners of the day, then moves on to group shots of friends standing together making silly faces and giving each other bunny ears behind their backs. Naruto reaches for Sasuke’s hand, tugs him close and throws his arm over his shoulder, a wide, happy smile spread over his whiskered cheeks. Sasuke smiles at him for an unguarded moment that Gai captures with flawless timing. Sasuke’s immediate scowl at Gai does nothing to dampen Naruto’s joy as he immediately asks him for a framed copy to put on his desk. Gai assures him he will have one ready for him for as soon as the next day.
Then Naruto turns, pulls Sasuke nearer and kisses his frown away in plain view of everyone standing in the clearing. Sasuke gives in for a second, then pushes him away and sweeps his eyes over every corner, just in case something has gone wrong in that split second that his attention was diverted. With the way Naruto is looking at him, all affectionate exasperation, no one can mistake how he feels about him.
Ino is speechless. “You mean, you finally—Oh, thank god for that!” she sighs and immediately goes to find Sakura. Gai’s face is as unguarded as it has ever been when he shakes Naruto and Sasuke by the hand, sincerely happy for them. Kakashi says nothing, for a change – Sasuke had expected something so dirty that he would have felt obliged to punch his old sensei hard for. He just curves his visible eye in the familiar arch and claps the grinning Naruto on the shoulder. Then he nudges Sasuke and offers him a book – Sasuke glimpses “Joy of” and “gay” and decides that, to hell with it, he’s going to kill Kakashi.
He assumes that the news will leak out to every corner of the village by nightfall, and he resolves to be even more vigilant – they cannot be certain how everyone is going to react. He hopes for Naruto’s sake that the reaction will mostly be positive. Why does Naruto never listen to him anymore? He had suggested they not say anything for a while, only tell their closest friends and evaluate the results carefully before jumping all the way. But it’s Naruto; he shouldn’t have expected that plan to work in the first place. He supposes he’ll just have to keep an eye out, try to protect Naruto from the more negative reactions, even if Naruto will learn about it eventually. He’ll deal with it when it happens, he resolves, and leans against Naruto’s shoulder in silent support.
***
The circus arrives on the morning of the sixth day of the week-long holiday. The kids are absolutely unbearable in their excitement. Their parents have withdrawn into the provided shade, having given up disciplining them under such duress. Enclosures have been put up the day before, which was spent preparing for the festival – food stands line the forest path that leads over to where the circus tents are to be set up when they make it there; the air is filled with anticipation, elation and the joy of being alive on such a glorious day.
Sasuke accompanies Naruto – resplendent in full Hokage formal regalia and tugging at his high collar every few minutes – through Konoha to the Central Gate where the delegation from the Land of the Moon is expected presently. They can see the bright flags a mile away flutter in the light breeze that barely moves the air. The kids are knee-deep around them, making a horrendous racket. Sasuke can barely hear himself think, but Naruto is in his element, hoisting the littlest ones on the backs of several clones so that they can see what’s happening, and chattering away a mile a minute.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the first caravans arrive through the gates. Prince Hikaru steps down from his transport and embraces the real Naruto, who put a little girl back down to greet him properly; he has to look up to do so.
“Well, would you look at you? The last time I saw you, you barely reached my shoulders! I can’t believe how tall you’ve grown!”
Hikaru must be over 6’ 8’’ tall, but he’s not nearly as muscled as him or Naruto, Sasuke muses, disliking the way he smiles at his dobe. Sasuke can take him, easy.
“What a pleasure to meet with you again, Naruto-kun! Or, should I say, Hokage-sama?” Hikaru says in a pleasant, melodious voice. Sasuke hates him already.
“Don’t be silly! You’re my friend, there’s no need for formalities. Otherwise I shall have to call you Your Highness, Prince Hikaru every time I want to speak to you, and I haven’t the patience for it,” he jokes, smiling widely. Hikaru chuckles, nodding in agreement.
“Shall we?” Naruto turns to lead the way. Sasuke allows the impostor to move past him while he picks up the rear. He nods an acknowledgement to the Prince’s guards, who return the gesture – they understand each other. The Prince is under Konoha protection from the moment he steps foot inside to the moment he leaves, provided he doesn’t try to disturb the peace. Oh, how Sasuke hopes he would!
The Prince spares him a contemplative glance as he moves past him; Sasuke has to fight with himself not to scowl. He shifts his expression into his impassive façade – The Prince says nothing, just nods at him with a slight smile and steps up to where Naruto is waiting for him. Naruto does flick a glance his way, amused. Sasuke has no qualms about scowling at him, though, and does so with intent. Incredibly, it makes Naruto’s smile wider, and he seems to be stifling laughter behind tightly bitten lips. Sasuke blinks; he is unused to being confused, but Naruto’s odd behaviour has him feeling as if he’s been left out in the dark. What the hell’s he thinking?
Naruto presses his lips tightly together; it would really not do to laugh at Sasuke’s wrinkled forehead in front of the gathered crowd. He’s jealous! his inner troublemaker cackles gleefully – Naruto wants to shake his head. As if there’s anyone in the world who could understand him better, or give him what he really needs. Honestly, teme, he wants to chide. Maybe he should share an insight or two with him on that front; unfortunately, that’ll have to wait until tonight. Right now he has a Prince to pay attention to and catch up with. He smiles at Hikaru without a care in the world and leads the way through his village.
Sasuke follows a few steps behind them. He wonders why he dislikes the Prince so deeply when he has only just met the man. Then the Prince smiles warmly down at his blond, and Sasuke wants to shove his fist through the smug face. He can’t believe he is jealous of some stranger, but it looks like Hikaru and Naruto have a history he knows nothing about. And while he knows that Naruto is a one-man kind of guy, their relationship is still so new, so fragile, that for the first time in his life Sasuke is terrified he won’t be able to make it work, terrified that he has let something mean so much to him that its loss may well succeed where Madara failed.
He grits his teeth and, with an effort that leaves him weak, shoves the darkness back inside where it belongs. Naruto has never faltered in his belief in Sasuke; it is time he returned the favour, no matter what it cost him.
***
Naruto doesn’t come to find him until much, much later, after the animals have been marvelled at, the first evening’s performance has been played, tons of barbeque, dango, candied apples, candyfloss and juice or sake depending on one’s age has been consumed, and people have trampled all over the restored forest clearing’s mossy carpet in an effort to see everything at once.
Sasuke has been watching him all this time, of course; just because he’s wearing a formal dark-blue yukata with the Uchiha fan embroidered on the back does not mean he’s forgotten all his shinobi skills, or that he’ll ever be completely off-duty. He’s made it his ANBU self’s purpose to know where his Hokage is at all times, and he carries on doing so without conscious thought.
So, when arms close around his waist and he’s pulled against a warm chest, he relaxes against it instead of reaching for Kusanagi secreted in its sheath along his spine. Naruto inhales deeply along the open collar that shows his neck in its entirety and exhales contentedly, his ramen-scented breath tickling Sasuke’s earlobe.
“You done for tonight?” Sasuke says with unconcealed hope in his voice, stepping out of his arms so that he has freedom of movement – just in case. He’s had enough of people and crowds and not being able to keep an eye on all the potential threats to Naruto’s safety. He doesn’t move away from him, however.
“I think so, unless Ino comes up with something I haven’t thought of. You know what that means, though, don’t you?”
“What’s that?”
“A whole day off tomorrow,” Naruto says dreamily, leaning against Sasuke’s shoulder and laying his head on it in not entirely exaggerated exhaustion. “I’m going to do some R&R, hangover recovery, and getting ready to plunge back into the fray come Wednesday. The kids can do whatever they like tomorrow; I’ve had enough of competitions and prizes to last me for the rest of the year. I just want to spend the day in bed with you. And make sure you actually get some sleep! Don’t think I’ve let you off about those black circles, bastard, just because you distracted me earlier! We’ll be having a long talk about that, and we’re not going to stand nowhere near a bed this time!”
Sasuke cringes. Naruto’s going to blow his top when he tells him how long it’s actually been since he slept in a proper bed before this week. He’d do it all again, though, if it keeps the idiot safe. He smirks; it may be that the time to test out the sofa has finally come.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Naruto murmurs, distracted by the cornucopia of colourful formal dress and happy people milling around, talking, laughing, eating and drinking, honouring their dead by celebrating the life their sacrifice had made possible. Sasuke, too, takes the time to remember his own dead, and give thanks he has somehow managed to keep the most important person in his life from that same fate.
“Yes, it is,” he replies now, not even pretending to look around. Naruto doesn’t comment, but his lips twitch and he brushes his hand against Sasuke’s. Sasuke looks around – nobody is paying them the slightest attention – he twines their fingers together, rubs his thumb gently against the back of his hand. Naruto tightens his hold briefly, resisting the urge to kiss the overcautious teme then and there. There will be enough time for that later; time to set a few things straight, too.
“Let’s go home,” he says.
***
The last day of the holiday week dawns just as overwhelmingly hot as the previous six; the air is heavy and oppressive and Sasuke feels sticky and sweaty and unpleasantly clammy where he lies on top of Naruto’s chest, a leg and an arm thrown possessively over the muscled frame. He wrinkles his nose in irritation.
“That’s awfully cute, you know,” Naruto supplies into his hair, playing with the length of chakra-infused, woven red string he had tied onto the pale wrist of Sasuke’s left arm last night.
Sasuke scowls. “Call me cute again and I’ll gut you,” he threatens, glaring up into smiling blue eyes. Naruto chuckles and stretches carefully so that he doesn’t throw off the prone body plastered to his. He yawns and rubs at his eyes like a sleepy toddler, a matching piece of string tied to his own wrist; Sasuke smirks.
“I think you still hold the marked on ‘cute’, dobe,” he teases, kissing the exposed throat on offer. Naruto punches his shoulder lightly at the jibe, but hums contentedly nonetheless.
“I wish this fucking heat wave would break already. I mean, I know it’s the end of July and all, but really.”
Sasuke pauses, fine-tuning to what his body is trying to tell him; his bones seem to vibrate with barely concealed impatience, and his right hand tingles.
“There’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight; I can feel the lightning gathering somewhere to the North.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” Naruto exhales explosively. “I’ve had enough. I just hope it doesn’t come before we can set off the fireworks for the big finale tonight, the kids are going to be devastated.”
“You never know; maybe Nature’ll listen to you. God knows everyone else does,” he snarks.
Naruto grins up at him. “Jealous?”
“Not in the least. You do what I tell you to, so there’s no reason, is there?”
“I do not!”
“You do, too.”
“Oh yeah? And when was the last time I did something you told me to?” Naruto challenges.
“Kiss me,” Sasuke murmurs.
END
sirona_gsTitle: All things of dearest value hang on slender strings
Rating: R
Word count: ~7,100 this part, ~15,900 overall
Summary: Nothing sours a village’s mood faster than a heatwave, and with the anniversary of the Fourth Ninja War on the horizon, the Nanadaime Hokage knows something must be done about it. That’s where Sabaku no Gaara comes in, but Sasuke is not best pleased with his involvement.
Warnings: m/m sex, implied past torture
A/N: This was written for the (sadly) last round of the
sn_exchange, for kitarin. Enormous thanks go to aurrai for being an amazing beta, cheerleader and slavedriver in equal parts. She is truly a saint for having put up with me and put so much of herself into this story. The title comes from a quote by Edmund Waller.Part One
Naruto wakes up slowly – he is perfectly warm and drowsy, and the sheets smell like his favourite scent in the whole world. He inhales deeply and turns his face further into his pillow. He’s clutching something unyielding to his chest, he realises; something that feels oddly familiar. He starts to look down just as an exhale hits the side of his face. He freezes, then he turns his head very slowly so as not to startle the sleeping intruder, and finds himself nose-to-nose with an unconscious Sasuke.
Sasuke hmmms and curls closer to him. Their lips are practically touching now, only a couple of inches apart. Naruto studies the beloved face from closer than he’s ever been allowed before without them pummelling the stuffing out of each other. He takes in the deep dark valleys under Sasuke’s eyes, making him look so very much like Itachi used to. How long has it been since Sasuke last slept?! And how has he not noticed those before? Has Sasuke been concealing them with a jutsu of some sort? Never mind that, why isn’t Sasuke sleeping? Is he having nightmares again? The thought worries Naruto enough to make him snap out of his daze.
He glances at the open window – dawn is only just starting to break over the sky. It’s very early – must be just after 5 a.m., but Naruto is wide awake, having been asleep for longer than he normally has time for. He makes to stretch – and realises just what it is he has been clutching to his chest all this time. He stares at Sasuke’s hand held tight in his, a puzzled expression on his face, and then suddenly the memory of his dream slams back into him and he inhales sharply in surprise. The pale, dark man from his dreams had tugged the string tight, almost to breaking point; then he had walked back slowly, letting the string wrap back up around the two broken halves of his heart, knitting them whole. He had moulded his chest closed with his hands, had taken Naruto’s wrist and tied the leftover red string over it. Naruto had grabbed at the withdrawing hand, tugged a bit of string away from his chest and tied a matching length around the pale wrist.
Naruto blinks rapidly when Sasuke exhales in a huff, breath teasing at his lips. They tingle pleasantly, and Naruto realises that Sasuke is curled up in bed next to him. A single move from either of them will brush their lips together, and to his surprise there is nothing he wants more in the world. Sasuke’s arm is warm against his chest where he clutches it, and he’s never felt anything better than holding his best friend and rival’s hand. He has no idea why this is so easy when nothing between them ever has been, but it is.
He can’t think properly, not with Sasuke’s eyelids fluttering like that, the bruised skin of his cheekbones close enough to nuzzle gently, and Sasuke smelling like that and how come he’s never realised it was Sasuke’s smell that made him so happy?
Unlike Naruto, Sasuke snaps awake immediately, urgently scanning his surroundings for possible danger. The only thing he discovers is Naruto, pressed tightly against his front, gently nipping at his parted lips. He catches his breath in surprise; Naruto takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in his mouth, twining deliciously with his. Sasuke stays very, very still, a deer in the headlights – Naruto shifts closer, slipping a muscled thigh between his legs. Lips catch and drag against his – he is still dazed from the thought that Naruto is actually kissing him – Naruto bites down. The small shock helps convince him that this is real. The late morning light shines into azure eyes dancing with warmth – Naruto is awake, then, and Sasuke’s lying next to him. Sasuke had been sleeping next to him, he realises with a rush of displeasure. He must have dropped off, lulled by the peaceful rising and falling of Naruto’s chest and dawn lightening the pitch-black sky.
Naruto pulls back after a moment, discouraged by Sasuke’s lack of response. He looks at him, takes in the dazed look in his eyes, the way he’s clutching at the sheets, as if afraid to let go.
“Did I talk in my sleep?” Naruto asks, figuring that if there wasn’t going to be any kissing, at least they could talk.
“You called my name,” Sasuke rasps, throat dry from sleep.
“And you came. And you stayed.”
“You wouldn’t let go of my hand.”
Naruto scoffs at Sasuke’s feeble protest. “As if you couldn’t break my hold! What if I never want to let go of your hand again? Will you still stay?”
Sasuke knows that despite Naruto’s teasing grin they’re not talking about handholding anymore. He hesitates, taking in the way Naruto’s eyes widen at his prolonged silence, and answers simply, “Yes.”
Sasuke walks the perimeter, heart lighter than it has been for almost two decades. His lips still tingle from Naruto’s snatched kisses as they had rushed to dress and jutsu to the clearing – it had been much later in the day than either of them was used to getting up at. The knowing glances from their fellow shinobi do not go unnoticed, but he’s in much too good of a mood to care about the bruise he found on the side of his neck that Naruto had claimed for his own that morning; he is perfectly capable of healing it, of course, but he opts to leave it as a declaration of intent. He smiles darkly – there’s an activity on the planner today that is going to give him the opportunity he’s been looking for to get his own back at Kakashi.
Everyone at the committee had been profoundly unsurprised that it had been Iruka-sensei to come up with what promised to be the most enjoyable event of the festival – paintballing. It’s fun for all the ages, and it’s scheduled for noon today. It’s already gone 11 am; the enclosure is being set up right now, complete with chakra-infused metal wiring to stop the audience getting paint all over them by missiles gone awry, and huge boulders scattered across the space for players to take cover behind, courtesy of the Akimichi clan’s Baika no Jutsu. The paintballs are being lined up, to be dispatched by hand (with the help of a little chakra flare). It is a great exercise to improve the kids’ aim and chakra control; with the added incentive of getting one over on their senseis, the event promises to be the most popular one in the entire festival – even the Nanadaime himself is participating.
Sasuke makes his way over there, circling milling families and groups of kids with their heads together and evil smiles on their usually cherubic faces. Iruka-sensei stands guard by the neck-high pile of paintballs, divided conveniently in compact egg-shaped pouches to be strapped to one’s belt. Naruto is there already, chatting happily with his old teacher and eyeing up the nearest pouch; he’s hat-and-coat-less now, for fear of ruining them with the paint – he’ll never hear the end of it from Ino if he does. He notices Sasuke’s approach and sends him a private smile, just a hitch of his lips, but, oh, his eyes, they promise to fulfil Sasuke’s every wish and fantasy as soon as the day is over. Sasuke returns it, lets his own eyes fall to stare intently at Naruto’s lips as he walks past him and watches him blush and squirm with a twist of warmth in his chest.
The contestants line up around the inside of the vast enclosure that takes up half of the designated beach space, all of them dressed in protective coveralls, each clutching at their first choice of projectile. Naruto is standing directly opposite Sasuke, making no secret of the fact that as soon as the whistle goes he’s heading straight for him. His shit-eating grin is stretching his face wide, and his eyes twinkle behind the protective plastic shades Iruka-sensei had insisted they all put on. Sasuke wishes there was a way to discourage him until he’s finished with a certain silver-haired pervert, but knows better than to hold out hope for reprieve.
He eyes his target carefully. Kakashi is looking as bored as always, nose stuck in his ragged copy of Icha Icha Violence, the hand not holding the book stuffed in the coverall’s only pocket. Naruto notices the direction of his gaze; his eyes widen and he lets out an involuntary snort of laughter. He looks back at Sasuke and nods surreptitiously – they’re on, then; Kakashi remains oblivious.
The whistle goes and the enclosure is filled with yelling, war cries and victorious laughter. Shinobi take their wars very seriously, even mock ones. Sasuke doesn’t need to signal at Naruto – a shared look is enough. Together they dodge missiles from Konohamaru and Tenten’s teams, only barely manage to duck under Lee’s deadly aim and let go several paintballs that blur with speed as they reach Kakashi. Their teacher sidesteps their trajectory without even looking up from his book. Unfortunately for him, Sasuke and Naruto are no longer his twelve-year-old genin students. The two paintballs collide right above where his head is now, showering him in blue and red paint from top to toe. He stands there looking astonished as his assailants celebrate, one smirking smugly and the other leaning one arm on the first’s shoulder, bent in two with laughter. That is, until a well-aimed projectile smacks him straight on his arse, propelling him forward to the ground. He looks up with an affronted expression, rubbing at the painful soon-to-be-bruise – Gaara smirks at him from the other side of the enclosure, completely spotless.
Sasuke stifles the urge to laugh at the scowl on Naruto’s face, but a snort escapes him none-the-less. This only serves to remind Naruto of his original purpose – he’s back on his feet in a flash, advancing menacingly on him. Crap, he thinks with a small burst of panic; he reaches in his pouch to arm himself. Naruto grins wolfishly just before Sasuke’s attacked from behind, jumped on by two clones and held still long enough for Naruto’s bright orange paintball to splatter him all over. Right, he thinks and hefts his own weapon, narrowing his eyes. He sees Naruto’s smile slip from his face; oh shit, he lip-reads before he pounces.
As soon as all the paintballs are used up and everyone but Gaara has at least one splatter on their person, the event ends. There aren’t any winners – that isn’t the point – but the losers are clearly marked by only their eyes being visible in a stripe of clean skin across their faces. They call it a day – it’s gone 6 p.m. anyway, but also, everyone needs to clean up quite desperately.
“Are you on duty tonight?” Naruto asks, expression innocently hopeful.
“No, thank god. I need a long soak in the bath after that.”
“Excellent!” Naruto gloats. “My place it is.”
Sasuke tries to swallow, throat suddenly dry from anticipation.
They remove their coveralls, along with all the other participants – they go in a huge pile that Yamato has promised to hose down before putting them away at Naruto’s request. Sasuke would not be the least bit surprised if the festival becomes a yearly occurrence – everyone has had a chance to relax more in the past two days than during the previous six months.
Naruto is having a difficult time leaving the place – almost everyone present wants a chance to thank their Hokage personally for the wonderful day. Naruto, being Naruto, can’t say no to a single person – so he chats, and smiles, and nods, all the while barely able to stop himself from glancing at Sasuke every few moments. Sasuke can’t stop looking at him either – the tall, imposing figure with the widest smile in the world, his kindness, strength and sheer love for the world and his people shining clearly through everything he does. How, Sasuke wonders, can someone like Naruto limit himself to loving just one person out of a whole village?
The answer is clear in the way Naruto smiles at him from the middle of the throng of bodies and excited faces. He can’t. He will always have to share Naruto’s love with the world. But, Sasuke knows, he will be the one to welcome Naruto home in the evenings; he will be the one to take care of him when he is tired, to hold him when he is upset, to kiss him goodnight and then kiss him awake again in the morning. To give him all that he is, to dedicate his life to making him happy. He may not be Naruto’s only love, but he will be the rock around which Naruto’s world shapes itself. Sasuke finds that it is enough for him.
Naruto finally extricates himself from the villagers and hastily makes his way over to Sasuke.
“Come on, quickly, before someone else thinks of something else I should be doing right now,” he pleads and, grabbing his hand, tugs him quickly away. Sasuke matches his pace easily, just as eager to get away. They jump up on the roofs when they get back inside the village, hopping from building to building with exhilarating speed.
Naruto looks at him over his shoulder, grins his face-splitting smile at him; it holds an edge Sasuke recognises from years ago. It happens less and less often these days, but there are still times when Naruto looks at him like this, a faint surprise in his eyes and smile, as if he didn’t expect Sasuke to still be there, by his side, chasing the wind with him. Sasuke hates that look, hates what that look implies, hates that it holds years of loneliness and pain and fighting to be better, stronger, to prove that he is worthy enough to bring his most important person back home. It causes an unpleasant tightness in his chest and stinging in his eyes and the back of his throat.
Sasuke shakes his contemplation at the sight of the Hokage tower rushing at them with dizzying speed. Naruto only slows down when they jump through the open window and into his suite of rooms on the top floor. Sasuke follows him through, suddenly dry-mouthed. He has been in this small sitting room hundreds of times before but, strangely, it’s as if this is the first time he’s seen it.
Naruto steps out of his sandals, picks them up and carries them – past the large squashy orange sofa, the small coffee table covered in mugs, magazines, scrolls, and empty instant noodle cartons, past the tidy bookshelf near the far wall and the not-so-tidy desk heaped with more scrolls and paperwork in the nearby corner, and over to the front door where he drops them by the door frame. Sasuke tentatively follows suit, bare feet treading softly onto a yellow carpet spotted with large red swirls. Naruto stands by the door, looking at him, drinking him in.
“So, uh, I guess – shower?” he says, rubbing at the back of his head uncertainly, eyes peeking from under lowered blond eyelashes, and suddenly it hits Sasuke just how nervous Naruto really is about this. They stand there looking at each other for an unknown time; shadows are starting to drift into the room from the open window – evening is falling slowly over Konoha. Naruto’s eyes trace his face, linger on his eyes, nose, mouth, jaw line, falling lower to fasten onto the bruise he had left this morning, still clearly visible. His eyes narrow, his nostrils flare; he inhales sharply and licks his dry lips unconsciously – and it’s like a dam breaking loose.
Sasuke surges forward, pinning Naruto to the door with his body, catching his wrists and holding on tight. He leans into him and brings their lips close, so close; his nose twitches at the smell of paint, and sweat, and ramen, and Naruto. He inhales slowly, burying his nose just behind Naruto’s ear, gathering in his scent, relishing the way Naruto sighs, leans his head back on the wall to give him more space, presses closer to him at the same time. The smell of paint is jarring and he resents it; he wants to smell Naruto, he wants Naruto’s scent mixing with his own.
“Sasuke,” Naruto murmurs, voice husky with want. Sasuke licks at the heated skin on offer and Naruto shudders against him.
Mine, Sasuke thinks as he scrapes his teeth down the tanned neck, and yes, and oh god, finally when Naruto turns his head and presses their lips together at last, tongues searching and finding each other. Sasuke wishes there was a Sharingan for the senses, so that he could memorise the way Naruto’s breath hitches in his chest, the way he twists his wrists to free them and turns his fingers to clutch at Sasuke’s, the way he raises his leg and hooks it behind Sasuke’s thigh, pulls him desperately further into his body with a quiet moan, the way their clothes are a hindrance not to be borne, the way Naruto’s tongue traces every part of his mouth, the way their lips rub together, too delicious to leave alone.
Naruto growls when they separate for breath, “Clothes off” in a deep seductive rumble that passes straight through Sasuke’s chest and pools heat low in his belly. Naruto bites hard onto Sasuke’s lip when Sasuke pushes into him, sliding their damp arousals together, then soothes it with his tongue in apology. Sasuke releases Naruto’s hands, which immediately lift to grab hold of his hair, tilt his head so that he can kiss him deeper.
“You said something about a shower?” Sasuke murmurs against his lips, and Naruto nods vigorously.
He turns and leads the way into his bedroom without looking back to see if Sasuke follows. Sasuke tugs his ANBU uniform off piece by piece – the protective vest, the sleeveless top, the metal-plated gloves all find their way to the bedroom floor revealing pale, scarred skin to Naruto’s heated gaze. Sasuke reaches for his training pants and Naruto looks away, cheeks rising with a different kind of heat now, suddenly shy in the face of a naked Sasuke. Sasuke wants to smirk, but just the thought of an equally naked Naruto makes his hands shake where they unwrap the bandages strapping weapons to his legs.
Naruto pulls his own shirt, training pants and boxers off quickly, and steps out of them looking uncertain. Sasuke stands there, fighting with his own nervousness to let Naruto look his fill. Naruto’s eyes are a little glazed, Sasuke notes – a surge of heat flares low in his abdomen at the sight of blow pupils drowning out the blue. He shifts, leaning slowly towards him, and Naruto comes out of his daze, his blush deepening as he stares into Sasuke’s eyes for a moment. Biting his lip, he turns at last and leads the way into the shower, muscles shifting under tanned skin. They enter the bathroom one after the other; Sasuke nearly drools at the sight of the wide bathtub taking up almost the entire wall. He wants desperately to sink into a warm bath, let it soothe his sore muscles and refresh his body. He knows his and Naruto’s hair is filthy, the only thing left unprotected by the makeshift coveralls, but for a moment it’s all he can think about.
He feels fingers trail over his shoulder, a palm caress his nape soothingly before Naruto moves around him and starts the water to fill the bathtub. Sasuke looks at him with grateful eyes and a small smile. Naruto smiles back gently, catches his hand and pushes at his side, guiding him to climb in. Sasuke does; with a sigh of delight he slips under the warm water. Naruto opens a jar and sprinkles a handful of bath salts in the bath; the scent of bergamot fills the room. He steps over the side and sits down opposite Sasuke, dunking his head in the water quickly. Sasuke frowns at him, reaches for his hand and tugs and prods and mutters at him until Naruto has shifted and is sitting between Sasuke’s legs, leaning his back against his chest and hiding his smile. He drops his head on Sasuke’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. Sasuke kisses the wet shoulder gently. Their arousal simmers under the surface, not as urgent as it had been before the slight awkwardness of undressing in front of one another intentionally for the first time.
Naruto reaches for the soap and turns in Sasuke’s arms. He kisses him softly, just a peck of the lips, before he starts soaping up his skin, sliding the bar slowly over muscles, bruises from training, scars – some healed long ago, some more recent; along elbows and knees and feet and thighs and stomach and neck. He makes him dunk his head to wet his hair, reaches for the shampoo to clean it when Sasuke takes the soap from him and starts returning his ministrations. Naruto works carefully, wary not to let suds fall into black eyes. Sasuke reaches around to wash Naruto’s back while he presses their slick fronts together. The slide makes Naruto throw his head back in pleasure and groan, deepening the contact.
“Here, Sasuke,” he directs him to wash the shampoo out. Sasuke does, shifting further between Naruto’s spread thighs, holding onto the sides for balance. Naruto quickly rubs at his scalp, rinsing it and urging him back up.
He kisses him then – just because he can. He raises his arms to lock them behind Sasuke’s neck and lowers himself to sit on Sasuke’s thighs, turns his head to deepen the kiss. Sasuke pulls him closer, soapy hands sliding over the sinewy back, tracing his spine, caressing each bump with careful fingers. One hand slips lower to fasten around a taut buttock and Naruto moans into his mouth, the needy sound echoing around the room.
They slide against each other, more and more insistently with each moment of contact. Their arousals rub deliciously together, faster and faster. Sasuke reaches between them and curls long fingers around both of them, stroking firmly. Naruto breaks the kiss, throws his head back and whimpers, gritting his teeth at the feel of it.
“Fuck,” he drawls breathlessly when Sasuke dips his thumb inside his slit, hips jerking reflexively and thighs tightening around Sasuke’s back. Sasuke’s other hand descends into the water and a finger probes between the spread ass cheeks, rubs relentlessly around the rim of the small hole, making Naruto yelp and slam himself forward into Sasuke’s hold, thrusting hard.
“Sasuke,” he groans, muffling the sound into his neck. Sasuke bites his lip at the feel of Naruto’s breath tickling his skin and speeds up his strokes, trying to thrust up himself – but the heavy body on top of him limits his movements.
“Oh, god,” he manages instead, and “Naruto”, and that voice saying his name makes Naruto lose it completely. He bites hard onto the firm shoulder as he jerks again and again, spilling himself all over Sasuke’s twitching stomach.
Sasuke strains desperately for his own release, letting Naruto’s limp member slip from his hold and tightening his hand around his painfully rigid one, mind overwhelmed with the sight of Naruto taking his pleasure from him, just needing that last sensation to tip him over. Naruto curls around him, holding him tightly.
“Let go,” he whispers into Sasuke’s ear softly. “Sasuke,” he sighs and sucks firmly onto the already bruised neck.
Sasuke’s eyes roll into the back of his head as his climax crashes over him, leaving him shaking. He rests his head on Naruto’s shoulder, clutching at him tightly enough to hurt. He sits there for a while, catching his breath, relishing being so close to the one person he has no qualms about letting get so near, burrow under the mask keeping the outside world at a distance.
“The water’s getting cold. Feel like getting out yet?” Naruto asks, pulling back slightly to look at him.
“Yeah.”
They help each other out of the tub, a trickle of chakra making sure their unsteady legs don’t slip on the drenched floor. Naruto looks down with a chuckle – they haven’t been too careful about the water actually staying in the bath. He reaches for the towels thrown over the metal bar, passes one over to Sasuke and gets distracted watching him dry himself off.
Sasuke smirks, drops his towel, grabs the dry one from Naruto’s slack fingers and rubs it briskly over his dripping frame. Naruto bats his hands away after a minute, rubbing at his multicoloured hair briskly. They never got to wash it, but he doesn’t mind too much. He could just as easily do that tomorrow morning.
The bed beckons them, crisp sheets folded down invitingly. The sight reminds Naruto of something.
“Sasuke.”
Sasuke turns, wary at that tone. Oh god, let Naruto not say this has been a mistake.
“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”
Sasuke looks at him blankly.
“You look like Itachi. How long has it been since you’ve had a decent night’s sleep?”
Sasuke winces.
“Can we maybe not talk about that?”
Naruto scowls. “Not when my boyfriend seems to be killing himself without me realising.”
The warmth in Sasuke’s chest returns.
“Dobe,” he murmurs and tugs him closer.
Naruto’s scowl remains, but the kiss gets rid of it quickly enough.
“We’re not done,” he protests weakly.
“You’re right about that,” Sasuke smirks. “It’s a lovely bed. Let’s mess it up.”
It takes Sasuke another two days to completely wash out the paint from his hair. The annoyance is made marginally better by the fact that Kakashi looks like he’ll be sporting a blue rinse for at least four more days. In all honesty, nothing much can piss him off at the moment, not with Naruto filling his days with little smiles, stolen kisses and heated looks. He’s still a little sore from this morning – he’d have to remember not to wind Naruto up so much with the clear indication that sex is on the cards. He hasn’t checked, but he thinks he will very likely have bruises on his hips from where Naruto gripped him to keep him still as he thrust as deep as he could go inside him.
They had spent the day before resting, walking, arguing – simply being together. There hadn’t been an event to judge, so Naruto had taken his time strolling through the throng of villagers and catching up on all the gossip and goings-on – who had given birth, who was going out with whom, who was getting married – the everyday details that his hectic life as their leader left him with little time to follow. Sasuke marvelled at the way Naruto remembered every name, every family connection, every detail of his people’s lives. Unlike Kakashi, Naruto is not just a shrewd military leader but a dedicated civic one, too. Under his governance the village and its people prosper like they haven’t for decades.
Today is sports day – there is sand shuriken evasion, running on water, swimming lengths, chakra moulding, speed eating and as many challenges Gai and Lee can come up with. Naruto is extremely busy – all the winners to be praised, losers to be consoled, speeches to be made – Sasuke leaves him to get on with it. He confers with his ANBU instead, all of them but the four on duty dressed in civilian clothing, so that none of the villagers suspect that the small group goofing around the dango stand are the most elite fighters of the village. Lee has taken a break from Gaara-baiting, and so has Neji – though his is a rather different sort of baiting. Sasuke is just grateful that the Godaime Kazekage has mellowed considerably in the past few years, and that he doesn’t have to deal with the results of his Sand Coffin jutsu on his men.
Gaara looks at Sasuke now and he knows that he and Naruto have worked it out. Sasuke seems happy in a way Gaara has never seen, and earlier Naruto had looked content with life for the first time in a very long while. Gaara wonders how the two will decide to let Konoha know that their Hokage and ANBU captain have a somewhat more than professional relationship, especially considering the fact that such fraternisation between the Hokage and the leader of Konoha’s special defence squad will not be endorsed by everyone. Gaara would go as far as to say that Sasuke may have to resign from the position of Captain over this. Gaara is certain that Sasuke has considered this.
When it comes, the revelation is handled in a typically Naruto-ish way.
“Oi, teme! Come over here! Gai wants to take some pictures!”
Sasuke wanders over unhurriedly while Gai snaps away at the winners of the day, then moves on to group shots of friends standing together making silly faces and giving each other bunny ears behind their backs. Naruto reaches for Sasuke’s hand, tugs him close and throws his arm over his shoulder, a wide, happy smile spread over his whiskered cheeks. Sasuke smiles at him for an unguarded moment that Gai captures with flawless timing. Sasuke’s immediate scowl at Gai does nothing to dampen Naruto’s joy as he immediately asks him for a framed copy to put on his desk. Gai assures him he will have one ready for him for as soon as the next day.
Then Naruto turns, pulls Sasuke nearer and kisses his frown away in plain view of everyone standing in the clearing. Sasuke gives in for a second, then pushes him away and sweeps his eyes over every corner, just in case something has gone wrong in that split second that his attention was diverted. With the way Naruto is looking at him, all affectionate exasperation, no one can mistake how he feels about him.
Ino is speechless. “You mean, you finally—Oh, thank god for that!” she sighs and immediately goes to find Sakura. Gai’s face is as unguarded as it has ever been when he shakes Naruto and Sasuke by the hand, sincerely happy for them. Kakashi says nothing, for a change – Sasuke had expected something so dirty that he would have felt obliged to punch his old sensei hard for. He just curves his visible eye in the familiar arch and claps the grinning Naruto on the shoulder. Then he nudges Sasuke and offers him a book – Sasuke glimpses “Joy of” and “gay” and decides that, to hell with it, he’s going to kill Kakashi.
He assumes that the news will leak out to every corner of the village by nightfall, and he resolves to be even more vigilant – they cannot be certain how everyone is going to react. He hopes for Naruto’s sake that the reaction will mostly be positive. Why does Naruto never listen to him anymore? He had suggested they not say anything for a while, only tell their closest friends and evaluate the results carefully before jumping all the way. But it’s Naruto; he shouldn’t have expected that plan to work in the first place. He supposes he’ll just have to keep an eye out, try to protect Naruto from the more negative reactions, even if Naruto will learn about it eventually. He’ll deal with it when it happens, he resolves, and leans against Naruto’s shoulder in silent support.
The circus arrives on the morning of the sixth day of the week-long holiday. The kids are absolutely unbearable in their excitement. Their parents have withdrawn into the provided shade, having given up disciplining them under such duress. Enclosures have been put up the day before, which was spent preparing for the festival – food stands line the forest path that leads over to where the circus tents are to be set up when they make it there; the air is filled with anticipation, elation and the joy of being alive on such a glorious day.
Sasuke accompanies Naruto – resplendent in full Hokage formal regalia and tugging at his high collar every few minutes – through Konoha to the Central Gate where the delegation from the Land of the Moon is expected presently. They can see the bright flags a mile away flutter in the light breeze that barely moves the air. The kids are knee-deep around them, making a horrendous racket. Sasuke can barely hear himself think, but Naruto is in his element, hoisting the littlest ones on the backs of several clones so that they can see what’s happening, and chattering away a mile a minute.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the first caravans arrive through the gates. Prince Hikaru steps down from his transport and embraces the real Naruto, who put a little girl back down to greet him properly; he has to look up to do so.
“Well, would you look at you? The last time I saw you, you barely reached my shoulders! I can’t believe how tall you’ve grown!”
Hikaru must be over 6’ 8’’ tall, but he’s not nearly as muscled as him or Naruto, Sasuke muses, disliking the way he smiles at his dobe. Sasuke can take him, easy.
“What a pleasure to meet with you again, Naruto-kun! Or, should I say, Hokage-sama?” Hikaru says in a pleasant, melodious voice. Sasuke hates him already.
“Don’t be silly! You’re my friend, there’s no need for formalities. Otherwise I shall have to call you Your Highness, Prince Hikaru every time I want to speak to you, and I haven’t the patience for it,” he jokes, smiling widely. Hikaru chuckles, nodding in agreement.
“Shall we?” Naruto turns to lead the way. Sasuke allows the impostor to move past him while he picks up the rear. He nods an acknowledgement to the Prince’s guards, who return the gesture – they understand each other. The Prince is under Konoha protection from the moment he steps foot inside to the moment he leaves, provided he doesn’t try to disturb the peace. Oh, how Sasuke hopes he would!
The Prince spares him a contemplative glance as he moves past him; Sasuke has to fight with himself not to scowl. He shifts his expression into his impassive façade – The Prince says nothing, just nods at him with a slight smile and steps up to where Naruto is waiting for him. Naruto does flick a glance his way, amused. Sasuke has no qualms about scowling at him, though, and does so with intent. Incredibly, it makes Naruto’s smile wider, and he seems to be stifling laughter behind tightly bitten lips. Sasuke blinks; he is unused to being confused, but Naruto’s odd behaviour has him feeling as if he’s been left out in the dark. What the hell’s he thinking?
Naruto presses his lips tightly together; it would really not do to laugh at Sasuke’s wrinkled forehead in front of the gathered crowd. He’s jealous! his inner troublemaker cackles gleefully – Naruto wants to shake his head. As if there’s anyone in the world who could understand him better, or give him what he really needs. Honestly, teme, he wants to chide. Maybe he should share an insight or two with him on that front; unfortunately, that’ll have to wait until tonight. Right now he has a Prince to pay attention to and catch up with. He smiles at Hikaru without a care in the world and leads the way through his village.
Sasuke follows a few steps behind them. He wonders why he dislikes the Prince so deeply when he has only just met the man. Then the Prince smiles warmly down at his blond, and Sasuke wants to shove his fist through the smug face. He can’t believe he is jealous of some stranger, but it looks like Hikaru and Naruto have a history he knows nothing about. And while he knows that Naruto is a one-man kind of guy, their relationship is still so new, so fragile, that for the first time in his life Sasuke is terrified he won’t be able to make it work, terrified that he has let something mean so much to him that its loss may well succeed where Madara failed.
He grits his teeth and, with an effort that leaves him weak, shoves the darkness back inside where it belongs. Naruto has never faltered in his belief in Sasuke; it is time he returned the favour, no matter what it cost him.
Naruto doesn’t come to find him until much, much later, after the animals have been marvelled at, the first evening’s performance has been played, tons of barbeque, dango, candied apples, candyfloss and juice or sake depending on one’s age has been consumed, and people have trampled all over the restored forest clearing’s mossy carpet in an effort to see everything at once.
Sasuke has been watching him all this time, of course; just because he’s wearing a formal dark-blue yukata with the Uchiha fan embroidered on the back does not mean he’s forgotten all his shinobi skills, or that he’ll ever be completely off-duty. He’s made it his ANBU self’s purpose to know where his Hokage is at all times, and he carries on doing so without conscious thought.
So, when arms close around his waist and he’s pulled against a warm chest, he relaxes against it instead of reaching for Kusanagi secreted in its sheath along his spine. Naruto inhales deeply along the open collar that shows his neck in its entirety and exhales contentedly, his ramen-scented breath tickling Sasuke’s earlobe.
“You done for tonight?” Sasuke says with unconcealed hope in his voice, stepping out of his arms so that he has freedom of movement – just in case. He’s had enough of people and crowds and not being able to keep an eye on all the potential threats to Naruto’s safety. He doesn’t move away from him, however.
“I think so, unless Ino comes up with something I haven’t thought of. You know what that means, though, don’t you?”
“What’s that?”
“A whole day off tomorrow,” Naruto says dreamily, leaning against Sasuke’s shoulder and laying his head on it in not entirely exaggerated exhaustion. “I’m going to do some R&R, hangover recovery, and getting ready to plunge back into the fray come Wednesday. The kids can do whatever they like tomorrow; I’ve had enough of competitions and prizes to last me for the rest of the year. I just want to spend the day in bed with you. And make sure you actually get some sleep! Don’t think I’ve let you off about those black circles, bastard, just because you distracted me earlier! We’ll be having a long talk about that, and we’re not going to stand nowhere near a bed this time!”
Sasuke cringes. Naruto’s going to blow his top when he tells him how long it’s actually been since he slept in a proper bed before this week. He’d do it all again, though, if it keeps the idiot safe. He smirks; it may be that the time to test out the sofa has finally come.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Naruto murmurs, distracted by the cornucopia of colourful formal dress and happy people milling around, talking, laughing, eating and drinking, honouring their dead by celebrating the life their sacrifice had made possible. Sasuke, too, takes the time to remember his own dead, and give thanks he has somehow managed to keep the most important person in his life from that same fate.
“Yes, it is,” he replies now, not even pretending to look around. Naruto doesn’t comment, but his lips twitch and he brushes his hand against Sasuke’s. Sasuke looks around – nobody is paying them the slightest attention – he twines their fingers together, rubs his thumb gently against the back of his hand. Naruto tightens his hold briefly, resisting the urge to kiss the overcautious teme then and there. There will be enough time for that later; time to set a few things straight, too.
“Let’s go home,” he says.
The last day of the holiday week dawns just as overwhelmingly hot as the previous six; the air is heavy and oppressive and Sasuke feels sticky and sweaty and unpleasantly clammy where he lies on top of Naruto’s chest, a leg and an arm thrown possessively over the muscled frame. He wrinkles his nose in irritation.
“That’s awfully cute, you know,” Naruto supplies into his hair, playing with the length of chakra-infused, woven red string he had tied onto the pale wrist of Sasuke’s left arm last night.
Sasuke scowls. “Call me cute again and I’ll gut you,” he threatens, glaring up into smiling blue eyes. Naruto chuckles and stretches carefully so that he doesn’t throw off the prone body plastered to his. He yawns and rubs at his eyes like a sleepy toddler, a matching piece of string tied to his own wrist; Sasuke smirks.
“I think you still hold the marked on ‘cute’, dobe,” he teases, kissing the exposed throat on offer. Naruto punches his shoulder lightly at the jibe, but hums contentedly nonetheless.
“I wish this fucking heat wave would break already. I mean, I know it’s the end of July and all, but really.”
Sasuke pauses, fine-tuning to what his body is trying to tell him; his bones seem to vibrate with barely concealed impatience, and his right hand tingles.
“There’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight; I can feel the lightning gathering somewhere to the North.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” Naruto exhales explosively. “I’ve had enough. I just hope it doesn’t come before we can set off the fireworks for the big finale tonight, the kids are going to be devastated.”
“You never know; maybe Nature’ll listen to you. God knows everyone else does,” he snarks.
Naruto grins up at him. “Jealous?”
“Not in the least. You do what I tell you to, so there’s no reason, is there?”
“I do not!”
“You do, too.”
“Oh yeah? And when was the last time I did something you told me to?” Naruto challenges.
“Kiss me,” Sasuke murmurs.
END
no subject
Date: 2010-09-09 05:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-09 11:23 pm (UTC)