33SO.
This was meant to be a short, Sakura-centric oneshot.
Yeah, that didn't happen, did it?
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or anything associated with it. All rights to Naruto belong to Masashi Kishimoto and the other proper entities.
Summary: He wants her to say it first; he wants her to take the burden from him and put voice to what's growing between them. It's the only way, he knows, that he won't feel like he's being selfish and pressuring her into anything.
Rating: M
Genre: Romance
Pairings: SasuSaku
WARNING: This fanfiction contains themes of a sexual nature.
(we bloom during)
Hanami
The tiny little village that they don't know the name of takes Sakura's breath away when they step within its walls. Springtime has transformed the quaint little village into a rainbow of gardens, the trees overhead laden with peach blossoms. Soon, the cherry trees will bloom, adding another shade of pink to the otherworldly canopy above.
"It must be nearing hanami." Sakura breathes into the honey-scented air. Three months on the road with Sasuke has blurred the passage of time in her mind; she hasn't paid attention to the date in months, finding it easier to keep track of the change of seasons rather than the calendar. It's Sasuke that watches the dates, reminding her to send letters home at the end of every week.
"It's about a week away." He agrees in a low voice, mismatched eyes scanning the area for threats. When he finds none, he relaxes and wrinkles his nose at the scent in the air. "That smell is sickly."
Sakura laughs. "I think it's nice." She pokes his side. "Come on, there should be an inn around here somewhere. I need a shower!"
He sighs and follows her. It's not that he's not enthusiastic about bathing and sleeping in a real bed for the first time in weeks. He is, despite his outwardly apathetic demeanour. He's used to roughing it, but he can feel the sweat and grit of the road on his skin and in his hair, and he probably smells pretty bad. Sakura hasn't complained, but he's noticed her hair is getting greasier by the day, and there's a faint scent of body odour about her that she's been trying to mask with body sprays for the past week or so. It will be nice to clean off properly and wash their clothes in a real washing machine.
They find the inn easily enough. To Sakura's delight, it's an onsen, with free, unrestricted access to the hot springs when renting a room.
"Oh, Sasuke-kun, I haven't been to one of these in ages!" She beams as she takes the room key from the old lady minding the front counter. With a bow—deep and respectful on her part, and barely a lowering of the head on his—they trip down the hall and slide the door to their room open with relief. "The first thing I'm going to do," she announces decisively, "is take a long shower. Then I'm going to enjoy the springs for a while."
He nods. "I'll do the laundry." He offers, then catches a whiff of his underarm as he lowers his pack and grimaces. "After a shower." He decides, to Sakura's giggle. He doesn't mind giving up the opportunity to soak: He's not exactly a fan of hot springs—not like Sakura. They leave him feeling vulnerable and exposed.
They spend a few minutes sorting their clothing for washing. Leaving the pile by the door for Sasuke to retrieve later, they collect their last set of clean clothing and slide the door open again, padding toward the showers that open to the springs. They look at each other before opening the doors.
"I'll be back in the room by dinner." She promises. He nods, and she disappears inside the women's showers.
He shoulders the door to the men's open, expecting a face full of steam. Inns in villages like this are always packed in the lead-up to hanami, but to his surprise the air is clear and dry. Breathing a sigh of relief, he chooses a shower stall and sets about scrubbing the grime of the road from his body. The hot water is scalding on his skin, turning him as pink as Sakura's hair, but all he can think about is how good it feels to finally get clean again. Even though he's spent a large chunk of his life on the road, he reflects that there really is nothing like a hot shower to make one feel human.
Once he's dressed in clean clothes and feeling like he's presentable to the general public, Sasuke meanders to the laundry to pick up a basket to carry their washing. When he returns, he throws them in the machine and chooses the detergent with the weakest scent, leaning his head back against the wall as the machine runs.
"Oh, hello, young man."
He blinks his eyes open to the old lady from the front desk. He inclines his head in acknowledgement at her greeting.
"It's not often you see a man doing laundry in these parts." She says conversationally, leaning over to clean the lint filter in one of the dryers. "You wife is enjoying the springs, I take it?"
He nods, not bothering to correct her assumption. It's not the first time they've been mistaken for a married couple while on the road. They both made the conscious choice to avoid wearing any family crests while travelling; this far from the Land of Fire, people aren't likely to connect the names Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura to them based on their looks alone. Using their hair to hide their identifying traits—his rinnegan and her yin seal—they look like just another pair of travellers.
"You're not much of a talker, are you?" She gives him a gap-toothed grin as she straightens and moves to the next machine. He blinks at her. "Never mind me. I'm just a little old busybody. We don't get many travellers in these parts. Do you plan to stay long?"
"Today and tomorrow." He says.
"Well," she sticks her head in the final dryer to clean the filter, "let me know if you need anything. I'm happy to help."
He nods, then feels foolish because she can't see him. "Aa."
She shuffles off when she's finished with her chore, leaving him to close his eyes and lean his head against the wall. The world fades out of focus as he drowses a little to the hum of the machine. He moves the load to the dryer when the cycle finishes, and returns to his spot by the wall.
When his chore is done, he hefts the basket of clean clothing back to the room, dropping it on the floor and casting his eyes about. He knows he needs to do some maintenance on his weapons—his chokutō needs sharpening, and his kunai are getting dull as well—but he feels a profound weariness that convinces him that he can leave it overnight. A glance at the clock tells him that it's past five; he decides then to wander back out into the lobby of the inn to enquire about food. The old biddy gives him a paper menu and shoos him back to his room like a doting grandmother, telling him to come back when they decide what they want. They're her only guests at the moment, so she doesn't mind.
Sakura is back in the room when he returns, near glowing with contentment as she sits by the window and folds their washing. "Oh, Sasuke-kun!" She grins up at him. "There you are!"
He hands her the menu. "Choose what you want. The old lady will make it for us."
"What about you?" She blinks up at him.
He shrugs. "You know what I like." He points out, settling down on one of the futon. Once he gets comfortable, he says "She thinks we're married."
He's not oblivious to the faint blush that paints her cheeks. But she doesn't stutter when she grins at him and says "Not the first time, right?"
"Aa."
In truth, he doesn't know what they are. She loves him. He knows this. She doesn't try to hide it, these days. And he loves her, though he doubts she's aware of it. They've never really talked about it.
He wants to. He's just not sure how. He just keeps waiting for her to bring it up, hiding behind his mask of indifference like a coward.
She peruses the menu with a hum before getting to her feet and telling him she'll be back. He assumes that she's gone to place their order and lies down with the intention of resting his eyes. He'd slept poorly last night; he feels his eyes burn with exhaustion as they slip closed.
The next thing he's aware of, Sakura is shaking him awake. "Sasuke-kun." She calls softly. "Sasuke-kun, dinner's here."
"I'm up." He groans, pushing himself into a sitting position. The sun has slipped low in the sky, sending golden light slanting through the window and across the floor. He rubs at his eye with his hand and gives a jaw-cracking yawn, unashamed of showing vulnerability in Sakura's presence. "What'd you get?"
"Oyakodon for me, gyudon for you." She slips away and takes her place at the small chabudaiat the foot of the futon. "I got some korokke and miso soup to share, too."
He hums in approval, taking his seat. Sakura hands him a pair of disposable chopsticks she separated for him and chimes "Itadakimasu" softly.
They eat slowly. Sakura steals pieces of beef from his bowl, despite his glowering at her, and she giggles. He steals slices of chicken from hers in retaliation, even though he doesn't really like oyakodon all that much. They have a playful fight over the korokke and he lets her have the miso.
"This is really good." She hums as she finishes the last of the soup, going back to her oyakodon. "Don't tell her, but I think this might be better than Hinata's."
He hums in agreement. The old lady is a good cook. They cook as best as they can on the road, but they're usually restricted to boiled rice and grilling whatever small animal or fish one of them manages to hunt down before supper. They often run out of spices and herbs between villages, leaving them choking down bland meat and rice.
Sakura has never once complained about their living conditions. When he'd first asked her to accompany him, back during his last visit to Konoha, he hadn't been sure what to expect. In fact, he'd eyed her small travel pack warily as they set out, wondering exactly how light she thought she needed to pack. He'd been pleasantly surprised when, on their first night, she'd withdrawn a scroll and revealed that she'd picked up camping supplies and sealed them within for easy transport.
"I hadn't thought of that." He'd said, caught off guard. Of course, with it being just him, he'd never really needed camping gear. He was happy to sleep outdoors.
She'd winked at him. "They don't call me a genius for nothing, you know." She'd teased, tossing him a sleeping bag. Caught by surprise, he'd fumbled to catch it, glaring at her as she laughed at him.
"Earth to Sasuke-kun." Sakura calls to him. He blinks at her, realising that he's been staring into space. "You okay?"
He runs his hand down his face. "Just tired. Didn't sleep well."
She hums in concern. "Nightmares again?"
He shakes his head. Sakura has come to learn quickly that he is prone to nightmares. Within the first few days on the road, he'd woken her up with his trembling and groaning in his sleep. Thankfully, he isn't a trasher like she is—her first nightmare on the road had taken him by surprise. A flailing fist to the abdomen isn't a pleasant way to wake up. "I just couldn't sleep last night."
He's not going to tell her that the reason he couldn't sleep was because he'd been watching her as she slept. Shielded from the world within their small tent, he'd had a powerful urge to touch her that he'd barely managed to rein in by putting his hand under his head. Still, his hungry eyes had traced every feature of her pretty face, his heart careening at breakneck speed as a little voice whispered in his head touch her. You know she wants you to.
He shakes himself and yawns again, and she frowns. "You should turn in after dinner." She says softly. "I'm just going to be writing some letters, then I'll probably go to bed, too."
"Alright." He agrees easily.
He gasps awake in the dead of night, sweat beading at his temples and his body thrumming with energy. Taking a few deep breaths, he covers his eyes with his lone hand and groans into the dark.
He doesn't have these dreams often. They're far less common than his nightmares.
Despite himself, his mind keeps replaying the images behind his closed eyes. Sakura, naked and panting, groaning his name into his skin as he presses her beneath him. Sakura, looking up at him with big green eyes as he touches her everywhere his hand can reach, making her gasp as it slips between her thighs. Sakura, whimpering and biting her lip as he—
He groans again in frustration.
"Sasuke-kun?" She says sleepily, turning on her side to blink at him in the dark. Curse her light sleeping. He feels his face heat unbearably in the night, thankful that she can't see the tent his erection is pitching under his blanket. Still, he moves to sit, hiding his shame as he feels his flush creep down his neck and across his shoulders. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He says tightly. "I'm just—going to the bathroom. Go back to sleep." He hopes she can't hear how strangled he feels.
"Okay." She rolls over, giving him her back as she shifts to get comfortable again. "Good night, Sasuke-kun."
He waits a few moments for her breathing to even out again before climbing to his feet and slipping out of the room. Every step is near-agony, sending him brushing against the fabric of his clothing. By the time he reaches the restroom and locks himself in a stall, falling heavily down on the seat and kicking his pants off, he feels coiled like a spring about to release.
He takes himself in hand, feeling a stab of shame even as he works himself. It's not the first time he's dealt with this particular problem. Being in close proximity to Sakura while on the road means that he's accidentally seen her in a few compromising positions. He focuses on a favourite of his, even as he feels like a pervert for allowing himself to think of it again.
Sakura had been bathing in a river while he kept watch, at some point about two months ago. He'd been standing behind a boulder to give her privacy, even as he kept himself close enough to help should danger strike. They were in an area full of bandits at the time, and had both agreed to extra precautions while bathing. After all, as deadly as they were with their bare hands, they were still vulnerable without clothing and weapons at their immediate disposal.
She had shrieked and splashed about, sending him scurrying around the boulder, ready to confront the threat—
—only to see her tossing a large fish across the water with disgust before noticing him.
He'd had a full five seconds where his brain had shut down, eyes roving across her exposed body before she shrieked again, covering her breasts with her arms and dropping down into the water. He'd stammered that he'd heard her scream, even as he took his place back behind the boulder, face burning in mortification. Later, when he'd apologised, he couldn't even look at her. Luckily, she'd accepted his apology, and the incident was never spoken of again.
Never spoken of, but definitely thought about.
He groans and spills himself over his hand, panting heavily and feeling guilt coil in his gut as he cleans himself up. He rights his trousers and berates himself all the way back to bed. Disgusting. Pervert. Sneaking around in the dark to touch yourself like a creep. What would Sakura think?
The logical part of him knows that Sakura is a medic. She's not unaware of the biological functions of the body. Hell, she probably knows more about how his body functions than he does. He'd once overheard her lecturing a bunch of teenaged boys and girls about how masturbation was natural and nothing to be ashamed of when she'd given an impromptu sexual health seminar in a village they'd passed through. In all likelihood, if she'd discovered that he'd woken up with a need to… relieve himself, she'd blush and stammer something about how he didn't need to be embarrassed before giving him his privacy.
But he never wants to find out. He doesn't think he'd survive the mortification.
They have tamagoyaki and miso soup with green tea for breakfast. If Sakura notes how he can't seem to meet her eyes, she doesn't comment on it.
Instead, she chatters about her plans for the day. The old innkeeper had mentioned a healer on the edge of the village that she wants to pay a visit to. He nods and mumbles something about checking his weapons, offering to do hers as well. She smiles brightly and accepts his offer before bounding out of the room.
He spends the day sliding blades over a whetstone at the chabudai, stopping only when the innkeeper brings him lunch.
"That sweet wife of yours asked me to bring you these before she left this morning." She grins at him, placing a small tray of onigiri and matcha tea on the table.
Again, he doesn't correct the assumption. They've both found it easier to simply allow others to assume what they will, rather than stammer through corrections as to the nature of their relationship. Over time, Sasuke has even come to appreciate the misconception. People ask fewer questions about a man and a woman travelling together if they are assumed to be married.
And fewer men gawk at her.
"Thank you." He nods, and she leaves.
The onigiri are okaka; his favourite. He still doesn't know how Sakura knows what his favourite filling is. He's certainly never told her. But the first time he'd planned to join her and Naruto at the training grounds after his release from prison, she'd presented him with a bento full of them. He remembers being touched as she smiled and said, "These are your favourite, right? You probably haven't had them in a while."
He sighs into the quiet of the room as he finishes his lunch and returns to his chore.
He's a coward. He wants her, but he's too afraid to say so. He's not even sure what it is that's holding him back, other than lingering guilt and insecurity. He's long given up on holding on to the idea that he doesn't deserve her, even if he knows it's true; he'd expressed that idea to Naruto the last time he saw his idiot best friend. The blonde only shook his head and said "You're being stupid. It's not about deserving. It's about what Sakura-chan wants. And what she wants is you."
Naruto still sends him letters pestering him to get a move on, already. Sakura-chan isn't going to wait forever, you know!
Except he's not so sure about that. It's not arrogance on his part; she's already waited for so long, with so much less to give her hope than he gives her now. The depth of her devotion to him is staggering. Frightening, at times, because he's seen what devotion like hers can turn into given the wrong circumstances. It's what turned him away from them in the first place, onto the path of vengeance and blood.
"That must be the most interesting kunai in the world."
He blinks over his shoulder at her, becoming aware that he's been staring at the weapon in his hand for some time. She grins at him, sliding the door closed behind her. "Deep in thought?"
"Aa."
"I already put an order in for dinner. I hope you don't mind." She stretches her arms above her head, exposing a sliver of skin on her abdomen that he can't seem to look away from until her shirt lowers and hides it from his view again.
"That's fine." He wrenches his eyes up to her face before she looks back at him. She sits opposite him and opens the small container of dango she brought with her. She offers it to him and laughs when his nose wrinkles. "You know I don't like sweets."
"Still, it's polite to offer." She says sagely as she pops a piece in her mouth. "So. Ryo for your thoughts?" He shakes his head. She frowns at him. "It's not like you to be so lost in thought that you space out." She points out with concern.
"It's nothing important." He insists, returning to sharpening the blade in his hand.
"It clearly is if it's distracting you this much."
He huffs. "I don't want to talk about it." He nearly snaps, trying to keep the sharpness out of his tone. Judging by the hurt that flashes across her features, he doesn't quite succeed.
Before he can formulate something resembling an apology, she stands again. "Sorry." She mumbles, looking away from him. "I'll get out of your hair until dinner gets here."
"Sakura—wait—"
But she's already gone, slipped out the door and out of view, leaving him scowling down at the kunai in his hand. He has the childish urge to throw it, but the thought of repair costs for whatever it strikes curbs the impulse. It's been a long time since he's snapped at her like that.
Coward.
He near slams his forehead into the table.
Her food is almost cold when she returns. His eyes rake over her face, stomach clenching unpleasantly at the red of her eyes. Wherever she was, she's been crying.
She sits down without looking at him and eats without saying anything. He stares at her, waiting for her to speak. When it becomes evident that she has no intention of addressing him, he sighs.
"I'm sorry."
Slowly, her eyes rise to meet his. "For what?" She asks meekly. It's rare that he apologises for anything. Only the most serious of offences get such a response from him.
His mouth twists. He hates it when she reverts to the wounded little child that he left behind in Konoha over six years ago. "I snapped at you. I shouldn't have."
She shrugs, her eyes lowering to her lukewarm meal once again. "I shouldn't have pried."
"Sakura—"
"No, really," she injects her voice with false cheer. "I know you're a private person. I pushed too hard. It's okay."
Say something.
He tries to force words to his lips.
Look what you've done. Say something!
He opens his mouth. He must make some kind of sound, because Sakura looks up at him curiously.
She's waiting. Spit it out!
She frowns at his hesitance and sighs. "You don't have to force yourself to talk about it, Sasuke-kun. It's okay."
Fucking coward.
"I was…" he manages to force.
"I said it's okay." She shakes her head.
Just say it.
"I was thinking about you." He manages to mumble into his high collar, hoping that she can hear him.
He feels his face begin to burn in the silence that follows. Chancing a peek at her, he finds her staring at him with a matching blush across her pretty cheeks.
"Oh." She finally says, a little breathless. "Were they…" she clears her throat. "I hope they were good thoughts."
He grunts. The sound is neither an affirmation nor refutation.
"Do you… think about me often?"
Unbidden, his nocturnal bathroom trip comes to mind. He forces the thought away. "We travel together." He points out. "Kind of hard… not to."
"Oh." There's naked disappointment in her tone. He glances up again to see her picking at her food.
He clears his throat. "But… yes. I do." He manages to say.
Somehow, he manages to hold her gaze when she looks up again. There's a moment of tension, before she breaks out into the most breathtaking smile he's ever seen. Shyly, she looks at him through her lashes. "I think about you, too."
"I know."
Her eyes lower back to her food, but he doesn't feel bad about it this time. She finishes her meal with a shy smile, sneaking looks up at him every so often. It's almost reminiscent of when they were genin, the way her eyes flicker to him and away again; only this time, he's watching her in return.
They stock up on provisions and set off again on the third day, continuing their wandering. The innkeeper tells them of another, larger village about three days away that generally has a festival for hanami. Sakura's eyes sparkle so much that Sasuke suggests they stop there for a few days as soon as they're outside the village borders.
"Are you sure, Sasuke-kun?" She asks breathlessly, even as she smiles as brightly as he's ever seen. "You hate crowds."
He shrugs easily. "It won't kill me."
She's so excited that she grabs his hand between both of hers. "Thank you, Sasuke-kun. I love hanami!"
"I know. I remember." With a burst of courage, he lifts the hand intertwined with his and kisses the back of it.
As soon as his lips touch the skin of the back of her hand, they both freeze. Sakura's eyes are wider than he's ever thought possible, her cheeks flushing so dark that it creeps down her neck. He's no better, feeling heat from the tips of his ears down to his clavicle. But still, he doesn't let go of her hand.
Three days of shy glances and fleeting touches have Sasuke thrumming with nervous energy by the time they reach the village. It isn't as pretty as the last one, even to Sasuke's unappreciative eye, but there are more cherry trees lining the streets than the last. The air isn't so heavy with the sickly sweet scent of peach blossoms, allowing him to breathe a little easier.
He keeps glancing down at Sakura out of the corner of his eye, catching her sneaking peeks up at him in return. Her cheeks are an appealing pink in the evening sun as she mumbles something about finding an inn.
They're turned away from two before finding one that has a spare room. Like the last village, they separate to bathe, this time finishing up quickly afterward to avoid the crowds. Sakura takes their laundry to be cleaned while Sasuke searches for a restaurant to buy their dinner, since the inn doesn't have a food service. The streets are crowded with tourists from the surrounding settlements, jostling him to and fro as he frowns.
He returns about two hours later, finding Sakura bent over a piece of paper at the small chabudai in their room. She looks up and smiles at him. "I'm just finishing a letter to Ino." She explains, setting it aside. "What's for dinner?"
"Tonkatsu." He hands her one of the takeout containers.
"Smells good." She hums appreciatively.
"It better be good." He grouses. "I waited nearly an hour and a half for it."
She giggles and they start eating. Much like it's been since the last night in the previous inn, they sneak glances at each other over their meal; she smiles shyly and he holds her gaze for a few seconds before they avert their eyes. They still haven't talked about their relationship, but Sasuke can feel the time rapidly approaching. He just hopes he isn't the one that has to instigate it this time. Even with the way Sakura has practically been glowing for the past few days, he still can't do it.
She hums pleasantly at the taste of the sakura mochi that he'd bought for her on a whim, plainly content. "This is really good." She says around a mouthful. He makes a face at her lack of manners and she swallows before she laughs. "Sorry, Sasuke-kun. I know you hate it when people do that."
He rolls his eyes, but doesn't refute her. His mother had always stressed that he was never to talk with his mouth full. It's one of the few lessons she'd taught him that's managed to stick into his adulthood. "At least you're not as bad as Naruto." He says instead. Sakura snorts, but says nothing.
When she finishes her dessert, she wipes her sticky fingers on a napkin. "Thank you for that, Sasuke-kun. I was in the mood for something sweet."
He doesn't reply. Instead, his eye is drawn to a small piece of pink mochi on the corner of her mouth. Without thinking, he reaches across the table, noticing the way her eyes widen and her breathing stops. Gently, he swipes his thumb along the corner of her lips, picking the sticky paste up. Without thinking about it, he puts his thumb in his mouth to clean it.
He doesn't think he's ever seen her face so red. Even when he'd kissed her hand the other day.
His cheeks burn.
"I don't know how you can eat that stuff." He says to cover his embarrassment at the impulsive action, making a face at the sweetness.
She breaks out into breathless laughter, and the moment passes. They've been happening more and more often the past few days, and they're easier to recover from every time.
"Can I borrow one of your hawks tomorrow?" She asks to change the topic. "I have a few letters I want to send home."
"Sure." He rests his elbow on the table, chin in hand as his eyes slip closed. "I'll summon one in the morning."
"Tired already?" She teases. "It's barely eight."
He cracks an eye open. She's grinning at him. "A bit." He allows.
"Trouble sleeping again?"
"A little."
She frowns in concern. "If you're not feeling well or something—"
"It's not that." He reassures her. "Sometimes my mind just doesn't turn off. That's all."
"Oh." She nods. "I have that problem sometimes. Is it something you… feel comfortable talking about?"
He regards her for a moment, weighing her question. Then, slowly, he shakes his head. "I wouldn't know how to." He says honestly.
She cocks her head, regarding him with kind eyes. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" She hedges softly.
"I know." He straightens. "I just…" he shrugs. "Like I said, I wouldn't know how."
If she's discouraged, she doesn't show it. Instead, she smiles. "Well, if you manage to figure it out, I'm always willing to listen."
His lips twitch. "I know."
She surprises him with breakfast the next day. He sits up groggily, wondering how long she's been up to have a chance to go out and find food.
"I was hoping we could explore today." She says excitedly. "I don't really know much about this area of Water Country."
He agrees sleepily, shovelling rice into his mouth. It's a little bland, but he doesn't mind. He's had worse.
"One of the locals told me there's a really pretty lake that's hard to get to around here." She continues shyly. When he looks up at her to gauge the reason for her sudden bashfulness, she glances at him through her lashes. "I was thinking maybe we could… take some food and have a picnic there, for lunch."
He nods slowly, heart thumping hard in his throat. "Sure."
She smiles softly. "Okay."
Sakura makes her appreciation of the area's beauty known with small sounds of awe, as if any kind of true verbal expression would sully its purity.
The lake is peaceful and deserted. He doesn't wonder why; they had to use chakra to walk up a very steep incline to reach it. Most civilians wouldn't be able to make the trek. The waters are glassy, disturbed only by tiny ripples caused by a duck and her ducklings frolicking on the far bank. Koi flitter at the bottom of the lake, stirring up clouds of silt that settle quickly. The surface reflects the ring of cherry trees that line the clearing, petals dancing on the light breeze to meet the ground. Puffy white clouds drift lazily in the blue of the sky overhead. It's all so… peaceful.
Sakura spreads their blanket close to the water's edge, taking a seat and wrapping her arms around her knees. "It's so pretty." She whispers when he joins her.
"Probably because no one can get here to litter it." Sasuke muses. They'd passed a few other lakes on their trek to this place, lined with benches and picnic tables, litter strewn across the top of the fallen flowers.
"I'm glad I found out about this place." She sighs, resting her chin on her arms. "The walk was worth it, right?"
He hums in agreement. It's very pretty. But, more importantly, it's isolated. Sasuke isn't one for crowds on the best of days; festivals always set his teeth on edge.
Sakura organises their lunch. He's slightly amused to see a spread of street food, as if she'd visited every vendor available on their walk up. The food is just on the edge of being warm enough to eat after their hour-long walk; they probably could have made it in a quarter of the time, but neither had been in enough of a hurry to take to the trees.
He's slightly concerned that they've been spending so much money this week; their funds aren't unlimited. But he bites his tongue. Let Sakura enjoy the festival now and they can figure it out later. It wouldn't be the first time he's overspent and spent a few weeks roughing it on the edge of villages trying to find odd jobs. If they're desperate, Sasuke can send a hawk to Kakashi asking for a mission. It wouldn't be the first time, but he likes to avoid it if he can.
Sakura lies down after packing away the remains of their lunch, tugging on the back of Sasuke's cloak until he joins her with a roll of his eyes. Shoulders brushing, she points out shapes in the fluffy clouds drifting lazily overhead.
"I don't see it." He says for the fifth time when she points out a bunny.
"That's because you have no imagination." She sniffs.
"I don't know about that." He mutters. His imagination isn't exactly innocent, these days; it has been torturing him lately.
She giggles, but doesn't press. He's grateful. She lapses into silence for a while, and when he turns his head to face her, her eyes are closed and her chin is tilted up to enjoy the sunlight. Spring is beginning to warm up, leaving behind the harsh chill of winter. Sasuke looks forward to a few weeks of not having to worry about hypothermia before summer sets in and hyperthermia becomes a threat.
He returns his eyes to the sky, slipping them closed and enjoying the warmth on his face. He thinks he drowses a little; he's not sure how long it is before he feels Sakura shift next to him and cracks an eye to see her sitting up again. "Ready to head back?" He asks, and she looks down at him with a smile.
"Not quite." She hums.
He likes how quiet it is here, so he doesn't argue. "It'll be dark by the time we get back if we don't leave soon." He says absently, closing his eye again.
"Wouldn't be the first time we've travelled in the dark." She shrugs. "We can always run in the trees if you're that worried."
He snorts. "Out of the two of us, I'm the one that can see in the dark." He points out. She smacks him lightly on the arm, but says nothing.
He pushes himself into a sitting position when the air starts to chill. With his long-sleeved shirt and trousers, he's better dressed for the cold than Sakura is, and he doesn't want her getting sick. She notices his shifting and gives him a shy look that has his heartbeat fluttering.
"Thanks for coming up here with me, Sasuke-kun." She says quietly. He just nods.
Something happens, then. The way she looks up at him in that moment is different; her eyes shine beneath her lashes and a light pink blush brightens her pale cheeks. He's enraptured by the picture she makes in front of him; his hand twitches at his side, like it wants to reach out to her.
And then her face seems to get closer.
She's going to kiss me, he realises as her eyes flutter closed. He's barely aware of himself as his own follow suit, bending down to meet her as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
He supposes it is. He's been waiting for this, if he's honest. He's been waiting all year, ever since he'd asked her to come with him on his travels. He's been held back by doubts and guilt and nagging insecurity, but he's wanted it so much that, now that it's finally happening, it feels almost like a dream.
It's chaste; barely a slanting of her lips over his for a moment or two before she draws back, peeking at him from half-open eyes to gauge his reaction. Of its own accord, his hand finds its way into her hair and draws her back in for a second time.
Her lips are soft under his, hesitantly trying out different pressures as they figure out what they're doing. Their noses bump a few times, and she giggles against his lips. It's soft, and sweet, and so utterly fitting for a girl like Sakura that Sasuke feels his heart lighten even as his face warms when they draw apart, sifting his fingers through the pale pink of her hair.
She looks so pretty, he thinks, looking up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth and a blush stretching across her face. Her eyes shine in the late afternoon sunlight, and he's forced to clear his throat before he can speak.
"We should probably leave." He says, voice pitched low. "It'll be dark soon."
"Okay." She whispers, breathless.
It's as if their afternoon by the lake has opened the floodgates. That evening, Sakura finds opportunities to kiss him again, leaving him flustered and overwhelmed.
She doesn't do it in public, thankfully. She respects his desire for personal space when in the company of others. But when she returns from finding their dinner, she smiles sweetly and bends to kiss him as he reaches up for the bag. He splutters at her in surprise, and sees a brief flash of hurt in her eyes before she notes how flushed he is and grins.
She sits next to him at dinner rather than across the chabudai, shoulders brushing as they lean forward to reach for things. He notices something still in the bag and points at it with his chopsticks. "What's that?"
"Hm?" She follows the trajectory of his gesture. "Oh. It's saké. The restaurant was giving bottles out for free if you spent a certain amount."
"You're not legal yet." He points out with a frown.
She shrugs. "The guy wasn't checking ages."
He hums. "You're not going to drink it?" He asks.
She shakes her head. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow." She peeks up at him. "Why? Do you want some?"
He shakes his head. He's not one for alcohol. He's gone drinking with Naruto a few times when he was in Konoha, but he doesn't like how it dulls his senses and loosens his tongue. He's said a few things while under the influence that he's sure his best friend is going to hold over him until the day they die. Thankfully, Sakura was never around during those times. He's heard rumours about her tolerance for alcohol; apparently, she's even worse than Naruto is, and he can't hold his alcohol for shit.
She ambushes him again after he comes back from preparing for bed. This time she's a little bolder, reaching up to fist her hand in his shirt as she pulls him down to meet her lips. He makes a sound of surprise before his eyes slip closed and his hand fists itself in the back of her shirt. He can smell the mint of her toothpaste on her breath when they draw apart.
"Sakura?" He asks softly.
She flushes darkly. "I'm sorry. Am I being too forward?" She bites her lip.
He hesitates before shaking his head, leaning down to press his lips to the yin seal on her forehead. "No. It's okay." He murmurs into her skin before he pulls back and releases his hold on her shirt.
Her smile is radiant as she shyly tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's good. I don't… want to force you, or anything."
He snorts. "When have I ever let anyone force me to do anything?"
And the spell is broken. She laughs heartily and shakes her head, moving over to her futon. "True." She hums. "That makes me feel better." She flashes him a cheeky grin that he narrows his eyes at, and she laughs again before slipping under the covers. "Good night, Sasuke-kun."
He only huffs and flicks off the light, padding to his bedding in the dark. He can hear her giggling at him from under her blanket. "Stop laughing at me, woman." He commands, feeling embarrassed. She only giggles harder. He makes a sound of frustration and presents his back to her, forcing himself to close his eyes and ignore her snickering. When her laughter dies down, he relaxes.
"I'm sorry for laughing at you, Sasuke-kun." Her voice carries across the room.
He rolls onto his back and tilts his head to look at her. A faint sliver of moonlight illuminates her face, and he can see she's still grinning, biting her lip. "I'd believe that if you didn't look like you were about to laugh again." He says testily, rolling back over.
She snickers. He sighs, and then allows his lips to twitch into a smile while she can't see it.
They spend the next day exploring the local woodland. The trees here are heavy with the green of spring, sunlight filtering through the canopy to leave shadows dancing across their skin.
Sakura is nibbling at a skewer of yakitori she'd brought with her when Sasuke caves to his impulse to kiss her. She squeaks when he briefly presses his lips to hers; it's the first time in their handful of kisses that he's taken the initiative, and her eyes are wide when he pulls back. He simply turns on his heel and continues walking, feeling a flutter of amusement when she scurries to keep up with him. He sneaks a glance at her to see her nibbling at her snack distractedly, cheeks pink and eyes distant. He allows himself to smirk.
"You surprised me." She murmurs into the silence.
He hums softly. "Am I not allowed to?"
"Eh?!" Her head whips up, eyes impossibly wide and mouth hanging open. "O-of course you are! I just—I wasn't expecting it!"
He tilts his head down and raises an eyebrow at her, allowing his smirk to grow. "If I remember correctly, that is the definition of a surprise."
She grumbles something, and he fights the unusual urge to snicker. "Mean." She finally pouts, and he shrugs, affecting nonchalance.
They walk a few more minutes in silence, admiring the forest. He almost thinks she won't speak again until she stops and begins hesitantly. "Um… Sasuke-kun?"
He pauses, turning to regard her with his full attention. Her free hand is fiddling with the ends of her hair; it's grown longer now, brushing against the back of her shoulder blades. He finds he likes it long. "What is it?"
She flushes, her eyes flickering up to his face for a moment before skittering away. "What… what is this? Between us?" She near whispers, the question nearly lost in the faint breeze and rustling of leaves overhead. "Yesterday was… and then today…" she trails off.
He steps closer, his lone hand taking her chin between his fingers and raising it to meet his eye. "What do you want it to be?" He asks, voice quiet and inviting. Because he wants her to say it first; he wants her to take the burden from him and put voice to what's growing between them. It's the only way, he knows, that he won't feel like he's being selfish and pressuring her into anything. Despite the fact that he already knows how she feels about him, despite the fact that he knows they both want this, there's an irrational part of his brain that whispers that she should want anyone else that forces him to make her say it.
"I—I want us…" she takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. "I want there to be an 'us'." She says firmly, surprising him. "I want to be together. With you." The blush on her face belies the confidence with which she speaks, and he can't help but find it charming.
He takes the lock of hair she's been fiddling with and tucks it behind her ear. "Then that's what we are." He says quietly. "Together."
He watches in alarm as her eyes fill with tears. He opens his mouth to ask her why she's crying—shouldn't she be happy about this? She just said she wanted this—when she drops her yakitori to the ground and fists both hands in his shirt, dragging him down forcefully to kiss him.
This kiss is different. He grunts into her mouth as their teeth clack together before her hands slide up into his hair, angling his face to a comfortable position. His arm wraps around her waist, hand splayed out across her lower back as he instinctively pulls her body against his. This kiss is like the kisses of his dreams, all tongue and teeth and blood roaring in his ears so loudly that the outside world fades away. She clutches at him almost desperately, nails digging into his scalp as his hand clenches around the fabric of her shirt; she makes a small sound in the back of her throat when he presses harder against her lips. He can taste the spice of the yakitori and the earthy flavour of the tea she'd had that morning.
She's panting when they break apart. So is he. He feels like he's run a mile. He presses his forehead against hers and keeps his eyes closed, willing the roaring sound in his ears to subside.
Suddenly bashful again, Sakura buries her face in the hollow of his throat, her hands slipping down to fist in his shirt once again. He rests his chin on the crown of her head and sighs in contentment.
"I thought, maybe…" she murmurs against his skin, breath fanning along his collar, "I hoped, but I thought maybe I was imagining… and then yesterday happened, and I…"
"You weren't imagining anything." He says gently but firmly, wanting to dispel any reservations right away. The last thing he wants is for her to doubt anything.
She exhales shakily against his throat. "I'm glad." She says softly, slipping her arms around his back to hug him.
Their day is spent in a small grove, far from prying eyes. They murmur words to each other in the quiet, but mostly they spend their time kissing. The words making out cross Sasuke's mind and he shoves them away, scowling inwardly and feeling like a child using silly terminology.
He cradles her form against his chest as she sits across his crossed knees. His back is to a tree; one of her hands is clutched to her chest, the other playing with the fine hairs at the base of his neck as she sighs up at him.
"I love you." She whispers sweetly into the scant inches between them.
He allows his mouth to twitch into a small smile as his eyes soften. "I know."
And even though he doesn't say it back, even though he's not ready yet, she beams up at him like he's hung the moon.
She goes to the same restaurant that evening. At least, Sasuke suspects it's the same place, since she comes back with another bottle of saké.
"You're going to drink both of those?" He asks sceptically when they finish eating and she places them on the table.
She grins mischievously. "No. You're going to help me." She announces, pouring two glasses and pushing one toward him.
"I don't like drinking." He says, pushing the glass back.
She actually smirks up at him, the expression so foreign to her face that he stares. "Hm. I guess Naruto was right." She says blithely, but with an undercurrent of challenge.
He scowls. "What did that idiot day about me now?" He demands.
She shrugs, sipping at her drink. "Oh, only that you like to embarrass yourself when you get drunk." She says airily. "I didn't think he was telling the truth, but I guess he was."
"I do not get drunk." He says sourly. Which is true; he stops himself at tipsy. He has absolutely no desire to get as shitfaced as Naruto does when he drinks.
"Uh huh."
Despite himself, he snatches the glass back and throws it down in a single gulp, glaring at her as it burns down his throat and he fights the urge to cough. "Happy?"
"Very!" She chirps, pouring him another glass.
"Don't complain to me when you have a hangover tomorrow." He mutters darkly as he accepts his second drink. He can already feel his stomach warming from the first.
"I," she holds a hand to her chest, her tone superior, "am a medic-nin. I can heal a hangover like that." She snaps her fingers and he rolls his eyes.
It isn't until they've finished the first bottle and gotten a good start on the second that he realises she's somehow found a way to manipulate him into getting drunk with her. He's had more than his usual, but he's still coherent enough to maintain his bearings. She's had far more than he has; it's almost funny how she seems to finish each glass faster than the last.
At some point, she climbs back into his lap. Sense clouded by the alcohol, he allows it. By now they've forgone glasses, instead taking turns swigging from the bottle. She's giggling into his chest and he's smiling into her hair.
"You know," she purrs, "my birthday is coming up soon."
"I know." His fingers are tracing random patterns on her hip, where he's wrapped his arm around her to keep her in place.
"You know what would make a pretty good early birthday present?" She whispers into his ear, sending a wave of goosebumps skittering down his skin.
Were he sober, this would be the moment that alarm bells started to ring in his ears. He's been approached by enough random women—and, he shudders in revulsion, Karin—in his travels that he recognises her tone. He's never accepted anyone's advances before, but this is Sakura. He wants her. But, were he sober, he would have pushed her away and reclaimed his personal space, out of respect for the both of them. He would put a stop to this dangerous behaviour.
Were he sober.
But he's not.
"What?" He murmurs into her hair, grin tugging lazily at his lips.
She shuffles a bit then, putting the bottle down at his side and moving so that she's straddling him. Cupping his face, she bends down and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss against his mouth, biting down gently on his bottom lip. He groans against her, hand slipping carefully under the hem of her shirt to slide against warm skin. She shudders as she draws back for breath and leans forward again, pressing their lips together and tasting the inside of his mouth with her tongue.
There's a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that they shouldn't be doing this, but he can't for the life of him figure out why not when she shifts to press her chest against his. They're both fully clothed, but he can feel the softness of her body pressing against him, the heat of her searing his skin. His blood heats and he can feel himself stir in his trousers, too far gone to care about being embarrassed about his want for her.
Her breath hitches when his hand slides down to her backside, pulling her hips flush against him. He can see from the look in her hooded eyes that she can feel the beginnings of his arousal; the sight makes him groan into her mouth when he pulls her back.
She shifts her body atop his again, and he hears a dull thud next to them. Tearing his mouth away from hers, he looks for the source of the sound and finds the half-empty bottle of saké.
It's like a bucket of ice water is dumped over his head.
"Sakura, wait—" he tries to say as she turns his face toward her and presses her mouth back to his. He pulls away. "Sakura, stop."
"Why?" She whines, drawing back just enough to pout.
"We're drunk." He points out, forcing himself to ignore the way his entire body is throbbing with need. "We shouldn't be doing this."
"Why not?" She demands, eyes hazy and cheeks flushed with alcohol. He thinks she might be a little indignant.
"We're drunk." He repeats.
"So?"
"So it isn't right." He insists.
"Maybe we should be drunk for this," she presses her face against his neck, peppering the column of his throat with hot kisses between her words. "We're never going to get here otherwise. You're too reserved and I'm too shy."
He swallows thickly. "Yes we will." He weaves his hand into her hair and tugs lightly to pull her away. "But not like this. We can wait a little longer."
"I don't want to wait longer." She insists, scowling at him. "I've waited seven years for you to want me back, Sasuke-kun."
"Then a little while longer won't make much of a difference." He says as firmly as he can.
She deliberately presses herself against his need. "But—"
"I don't want to be drunk for this." He groans against her shoulder. "Sakura, please." Because he knows that if she presses this, if she forges onward, his control will slip away. He desperately wants to forget about what's right and lose himself in her completely. But he knows he'll be ashamed of himself in the morning if he allows this to continue.
He knows he's won when she sighs against his hair, carding her fingers through it gently. "Okay, Sasuke-kun." She murmurs. "We'll wait, as long as you promise we'll be ready soon."
He nods against her throat. "I promise."
She slips off his lap and he exhales in relief, even as his body mourns the loss of her. Sitting at his side, she looks up at him with big green eyes. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" She asks in a small voice.
He's still drunk, so he rakes his hand through his hair and nods.
"Do you, uh," she goes red and gestures vaguely down, "need to deal with that before we go to sleep?"
His face burns and he looks away. "Probably." He grunts.
"Okay." She wobbles to her feet. "I'm going to go to the bathroom and change for bed." She announces, stumbling over to where her sleepwear is folded up next to her futon. She's surprisingly steady on her feet for someone who's drunk out of her mind. "I'll see you in a bit." She promises with a small voice, slipping out of the room.
He gives himself a minute before he follows suit. The world spins a little when he stands, but he regains his balance after a few seconds. He collects his sleepwear and steals into the men's room, ready for a repeat of his night in the previous inn. Somehow, Sakura knowing exactly what he's doing, while making him burn with embarrassment, makes it feel even better.
He returns to the room to find Sakura has moved her futon over, waiting for him. She gives him a small smile and pats the space next to her. "They're kinda small, so I pushed them together instead." She says softly.
He sighs as he turns the light off and slips beneath the covers. Sakura turns to him in the dark and presses her face into his chest. "I'm sorry." She whispers into the fabric of his shirt.
"Why?" He asks, just as softly. Now that his arousal has been dealt with, the alcohol in his system makes him feel like he's floating, leaving the world a bit fuzzy around the edges.
"I pushed too far again."
He wraps his arm around her, running his fingers up and down her spine through her shirt. "It's okay." He promises. She hums sleepily against his chest. She's warm in his arms, and he finds his eyes slipping closed, body boneless.
She starts shifting within a few moments. He ignores it for a few minutes, thinking she's just trying to get comfortable. But as she continues to fidget, he claws back to alertness and asks, "What's wrong, Sakura?"
She squeaks. He gets the feeling that, if he could see, he'd probably find her blushing. "I'm sorry, I'm just… I'm still…"
His eyes widen and his brain short-circuits as he catches her meaning. "You didn't, uh, deal with it?" He chokes.
"No." She buries her face in her hands. "There were too many people there. I couldn't…"
He swallows thickly. "Do you need to go try again?" His voice is barely there.
She nods. He lets go of her and she scrambles out of bed. As she disappears, he rolls onto his back and throws his arm over his eyes, desperately trying not to think about what she's doing right now. He tries not to think about how she looks, hand buried between her thighs as she touches herself, trying to find the same relief he'd managed to steal not long ago. He wonders if she's biting her lip, or panting against her free hand, or making sounds into an empty bathroom.
Despite himself, he feels his arousal stir again. As he groans and slips out of bed to steal back into his bathroom stall, he blames the alcohol.
The groan he wakes with in the morning is one of pain. Pulling the blankets over his head to block out the light, he wills the world to go away and leave him alone.
"Here." He hears Sakura's voice and chances a peek. She's sitting next to him and holding out a glass of water. "We really should have had some water before we went to bed. I know better than that."
He forces himself into a sitting position, accepting the glass and sipping at it to keep the sudden wave of nausea at bay. "Why aren't you hungover?" He demands, wincing at the volume of his own voice.
She smiles. It takes him a moment to notice the blush across her cheeks, and the events of the night before come rushing back. If he had a second hand, it would be covering his face. It feels like it's on fire, and he knows he's as red as Sakura's clothes.
"I was." She admits, lifting her hand to hover over his temple. He flinches away, head pounding. "I just want to relieve the pain a bit." She says soothingly, her palm beginning to glow green. He allows her to heal his raging headache as he sips at the water, slowly feeling himself return to normal. His gut still feels like it might revolt at any moment, but the pain in his head lessens and he stops squinting into the light. When she drops her hand, she bites her lip and says, "Listen, about last night…"
"It's fine." He says gruffly, setting the empty glass down. "We were both very drunk."
Her lips quirk. "Yeah," she agrees, "but I wanted to apologise anyway."
"You already did." He points out, looking down at his blankets.
"Listen," she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, voice serious. "Just… I don't intend to hold you to anything you said, you know? We were drunk. People say stuff they don't mean when there's alcohol involved."
He looks up at her. She's biting her lip and looking down at her lap. He wracks his brain, trying to figure out what he said that he didn't mean. Nothing comes to mind. "What?"
"Huh?"
"What did I say?" He frowns into the empty space next to her head.
"I, uh… I made you make a promise…" she says uneasily.
Oh. That.
"I remember." He says tiredly, running his hand down his face. At some point, he muses, the blush will need to fade. It can't be healthy, having so much blood in his cheeks.
"I just don't want you to feel like I'm trying to pressure you." She says swiftly, words jumbling together in a rush. He wonders how long she's been rehearsing this speech. "I'm happy to take things at your pace, you know? Just… knowing you feel that for me… it makes me so happy, and it's more than enough for now. You don't need to feel like you have to, or—"
"Sakura." He interrupts, voice firm.
"Yes?" She breathes.
He searches for the words to reassure her. I want you comes to mind, but it's too brazen. I love you is another contender, but he's not ready to say that yet. So he settles.
"I don't make empty promises." He says instead. "Drunk or not."
"But—"
"I meant it, Sakura." He says, holding her gaze. "Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday soon."
"O-okay." She can't look at him, eyes flitting to him and skittering away again. She fidgets lightly and takes a deep breath. "You should eat something." She says softly.
He shakes his head. "I'm not hungry."
"It'll settle your stomach." She insists, pushing herself up and padding to the table, picking up a steaming bowl and returning to his side. Despite his protests, she forces the bowl of tamago gohan into his hand. "Eat."
"I'll just throw it back up." He refuses.
"Sasuke-kun, which of us is the trained medic, here?" Her tone changes. He recognises it as one she uses on particularly stubborn children whose parents bring them to her for medical treatment. He glowers at her. "Just a little. Please?"
He grumbles, but complies. The food is bland enough that it doesn't upset the delicate balance of his stomach. He manages half of the bowl before he puts it aside. "Happy?"
She just smiles.
They spend one more day in the village to resupply and recover from their impromptu drinking. Sakura disposes of the second half of the bottle, much to Sasuke's relief.
They can't look at each other without blushing and looking away. It's distracting. Every touch, every kiss between them seems to crackle with promise; and with the way that Sakura stares at him, he knows he's not the only one who feels it. He catches her brazenly watching his body as he moves, making him feel hot in the cool spring air. Of course, he watches her too. Is it him, or does she exaggerate the sway of her hips when she walks now? It's probably just him.
They pick up a few odd jobs at random villages to refill their coin purse. Sakura makes house calls and Sasuke chops wood for elderly people in one village. In another, Sakura minds children for a few hours while Sasuke leads the townsfolk in hunting down a bandit hiding in the woods. He could easily have done it alone, but the people are so insistent that he only be allowed to assist rather than taking care of the problem by himself that Sakura convinces him to let them to tag along.
By the day before Sakura's birthday, they have a decent amount of money again. At the last village he'd asked around, haltingly, if any of the nearby destinations were any good; he'd been tipped off that there's a decent onsen out by the coast that not many people know about.
"Where are we going?" She asks for the third time that afternoon.
"You'll see." He repeats himself, fond exasperation in his tone.
She snatches his hand with her own. He doesn't react to the electric current that travels up his arm at her touch. "I'm starting to think you don't know, either." She teases.
He huffs. "Be quiet. It's around here somewhere."
Half an hour later, they round a large boulder, and Sakura gasps. "Oh, Sasuke-kun, look!"
The inn is large, with a view of the ocean to the west. The smell of the ocean wafts around them as they approach. "Are you sure it's okay for us to stay here?" She asks with wide eyes as she takes in the perfectly manicured gardens. "Places like this are expensive."
"We can afford two or three nights." Sasuke shrugs. He wonders if she even knows that tomorrow is her birthday. She knows it's coming up, since her birthday is around the end of hanami, but she hasn't been watching the calendar like he has. Their friends and her family have already sent letters with their birthday wishes, stowed secretly in the bottom of Sasuke's pack for the past few days. He'll give them to her in the morning.
There's a flash of recognition in the eyes of the middle-aged woman tending the desk, and Sasuke suspects that she's one of the few people that recognises them this far into the Land of Water. Judging by the scars on her arms as she hands Sakura the room key, she may have fought in the war personally.
She calls out to him when they move to head to their room, and he knows he's right. "Just a moment, Uchiha-san." He and Sakura freeze. It's rare that people have anything nice to say to him when they single him out.
He gives her a light push on the small of her back. The woman knows who he is and still rented them the room, so he's not too concerned. In all likelihood, it'll just be a warning to keep his nose to himself. Some places are like that. "I'll be in in a minute." He promises softly, and she glances at him with concern. Then she nods and disappears into the corridor. Slowly, he turns back to the hostess. "Yes?"
She smiles at him. "Don't worry, I'm not one of those people who curse your name or anything." She says brightly. "I just wanted to thank you."
"For what?" He asks, brow drawn together in confusion. He's almost positive he's never seen her before.
"My husband and I used to be shinobi, until the end of the war." She says, one arm rubbing the other, as if in deference to her scars. "We're retired now. But we wouldn't be alive today if you and Haruno-san and Uzumaki-san hadn't been there." She gives a humourless laugh. "None of us would."
He nods curtly.
"We hear a lot of things, out here." She says with a shrug. "I don't know how much of it is true or how much is exaggeration, but I do know what I saw when you were on the battlefield. And I know you were part of breaking the Infinite Tsukuyomi. So, thank you."
"It's nothing worthy of thanks." He says uncomfortably. "We all did what had to be done." He leaves out the part where he'd tried to kill his best friend between those two events.
She laughs, genuinely this time. "Isn't that the truth?" She hums. "Well, that's all I wanted to say. Oh, and expect a visit from my husband at some point." She grins cheekily. "I have a feeling he'll want to repeat a lot of the things I just said. I hope you and Haruno-san enjoy your stay." Here, she pauses, and a sly smile spreads across her lips. "Or, is it Uchiha-san now, too?"
His face flushes. "It's Haruno." He chokes.
She clucks her tongue. "Ah well, you're still young." She says knowingly. "Off you go. Let me know if there's anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable."
He hurries to the door, eager to be away from this strange woman who is behaving far too familiarly for his liking. Pausing with his hand ready to slide it open, he looks over his shoulder. "Tomorrow is her birthday." He says quietly. "If there's any way to get it… I'd be willing to pay extra for anmitsu and anko dumplings for dessert. And sweet umeboshi." He adds as an afterthought.
Her eyes shine. "Oh, is it? No need to pay extra; I'll see what I can do."
He nods and slides the door open. "Thank you."
She's given them the largest room available; he suspects she's undercharged them when he enters, noting the small kitchen area and sitting room, and the two doors that he suspects lead to a bedroom and bathroom. Sakura is sitting at the chabudai, tapping her fingers nervously against the polished wood when he enters.
"Is everything okay?" She asks anxiously.
"Everything's fine." He says, lowering his travel pack and removing his cloak. "She wanted to thank me for breaking the Infinite Tsukuyomi." He says bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, he shrugs. "She fought in the war."
"Oh." Sakura exhales, and he can see her deflate with relief. "I was worried…" Then, she brightens. "But seriously, two onsen in the same month!" She sighs dreamily. "And this one sounds so much more peaceful with the ocean so close by. How did you even know about this place?"
"I have my ways." He says enigmatically. He's discovered a fondness for teasing her over the past few weeks.
She puffs out her cheeks. "Fine, keep your secrets." She tosses her hair. "I'm going to have a shower and check out the springs. There's a washing machine in the bathroom, so we can do the laundry tonight. Why don't you decide what we're going to cook for dinner?" She hands him the small flyer that contains the list of raw ingredients and cooked meals that the inn provides. It's cheaper to buy the ingredients and cook for themselves. And, if he's honest, he looks forward Sakura's actual cooking when she has a chance to do it. She was terrible at it when they were children, but he'd discovered that she's improved dramatically the first time she invited he and Naruto over for dinner after the war, back before he'd begun his journey.
"Fine." He accepts it, deliberately sounding put-upon. She sticks her tongue out at him and pecks him on the lips before dragging her pack into the bathroom.
He's gotten good at ignoring the way his lips tingle after she kisses him. When he decides on what to make, he wanders out to leave the pamphlet on the front counter, as the woman instructed when she handed it over. She isn't there, so he returns to his room straight away, grateful not to have to endure another awkward conversation.
He finds that the bedroom is small and cozy when he inspects it while waiting for Sakura to finish her shower. Like the main room, there's a shoji screen that opens out to a private section of the engawa, overlooking a neat and tidy garden. It kind of reminds him of the old Uchiha manor in some ways, but the sound and smell of the ocean nearby prevents him from truly associating the peaceful inn with his ancestral home.
"I'm done!" He hears Sakura call. "Are you here, Sasuke-kun?"
"I'm here." He returns inside. "Are you going out now?"
She nods. "I'll be back in an hour or two." She promises. He's just about to lean in and kiss her when there's a knock at the door.
She opens it to a middle-aged man carrying a tray. "Good afternoon Haruno-san. Uchiha-san." He bows awkwardly over the tray. "I'm here to deliver your order."
Sasuke can tell from the gleam in the man's eyes that he wants to speak with them. So, he pokes Sakura's forehead with two fingers, as he's taken to doing in lieu of showing her affection in public. "Go enjoy the springs. I'll be fine."
She pouts at him, but obeys, slipping past the man with a murmured greeting and disappearing down the corridor.
Sasuke steps aside and allows the man in. Without his cloak on, it's obvious that he can't carry the tray without risking dropping it—there's a lot of things on it. More than he ordered.
The man waves it off when Sasuke points it out, putting things in the refrigerator. "Oh, don't worry. Consider it a gift from my wife and I."
Sasuke's never been comfortable receiving preferential treatment, but he bites his tongue and doesn't say anything in deference to not insulting his hosts. The man rambles on for a few minutes, saying many of the same things as his wife had. When he's finished, he claps Sasuke on the shoulder and ambles from the room, leaving him in peace once again.
He's deliberately awake before Sakura in the morning, using the leftover ingredients to prepare a simple breakfast. She trips out of the bedroom when he's dishing everything out, rubbing at her eyes. "Morning. You're up early."
He hums, then nods at the chabudai. "Sit."
She drops onto one of the pillows, watching him curiously as he balances a tray on his single arm. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" She asks.
He shakes his head. "I've got it."
When he's moved the last of the food and carries over the tea that he's had steeping for a few minutes, she frowns at him. "You're acting weird." She accuses.
"Am I?" He asks, settling opposite her.
She pours herself a cup of tea and begins serving herself. "Yes."
"Ah." He shrugs. "Maybe I'm in a good mood."
Sakura narrows her eyes at him. "I've seen you in good moods, Sasuke-kun. You just frown a little less." She teases. "Seriously, what is it?"
He lets his lips twitch into a small smile. She seriously doesn't know that it's her birthday, and it's kind of funny. He remembers when they were kids, she'd raved about her upcoming birthday for weeks, painfully excited to finally join the rest of her classmates in teen-hood.
He leans over and drags his pack closer, shoving his hand right to the bottom. Feeling around, he grasps the wad of envelopes and withdraws them, enjoying the way her mouth drops open in shock. "Happy birthday." He says quietly as he slides the letters across to her.
"It's my birthday?" She whispers, taking the letters gingerly. She looks up at him. "Is that why we came here?"
He busies himself with pouring a cup of tea. "Maybe."
She squeals and it's all the warning he has to set the hot liquids down before she throws herself at him. "Thank you, Sasuke-kun!" She hugs him tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He expects that to be it, but then she presses one to his temple, then to his forehead, and his nose, and his other cheek, and finally his lips. "You're the best." She whispers against them before drawing back and plopping herself back down in her seat across from him.
"Eat your breakfast and read your letters." He says gruffly, trying to hide how flustered and pleased he is by her attention. If her look is anything to go by, he doesn't succeed.
"I'm twenty today." She whispers to herself reverently, sorting through the small pile of letters.
He hums. "Now you can legally get that saké that you drank a few weeks ago."
She sniffs. "That we drank." She corrects. "And it's not my fault that the guy working there didn't check me for I.D. He just gave me the bottle and I took it."
"Some people call that dishonesty." Sasuke says lightly, leaning forward to serve himself.
She rolls her eyes. "I don't want to hear about that from you." She says with a hint of snark, and he smirks at her.
"Read your letters."
The day is spent exploring the coastline. Sakura picks up a few shells that she finds and coos over how pretty they are before stowing them in her pockets. He tells her that her clothes are going to smell later, and she smacks him on the arm.
"That's what the washing machine is for." She says with a laugh, bumping him with her shoulder. "It's my birthday, Sasuke-kun. Stop picking on me."
They find themselves sitting on the beach outside the inn when the sun sets. Sakura settles between his knees, back to his chest, and he wraps his arm around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. She sighs and melts into his embrace.
"Thank you for bringing me here." She whispers, tilting her face up to look at him. She's painted in the rosy hues of the sunset, eyes glittering with happiness. He only hums in response, low in his chest, and presses his lips to her temple.
Their dinner ingredients have already been delivered by the time they return, as well as the sweets Sasuke asked for yesterday. He forbids her from going anywhere near the fridge so as not to spoil the surprise, even as she complains that it's hard to cook without doing so.
"Just tell me what you need and I'll get it." He huffs.
Dinner is quiet. She sits next to him again, periodically leaning her head against his shoulder as she chews. When they're finished he clears away the plates and returns with a tray laden down with her desserts.
Her eyes glow as he sets it down in front of her. "You didn't have to." She says happily as she pours syrup over her anmitsu.
"I know." He rolls his eyes. "I keep telling you; I do things because I want to, not because I have to."
"You're spoiling me." She reaches up to kiss the corner of his lips. "You'd better be careful. A girl could get used to this."
He narrows his eyes at her. "Don't even think about it." He warns.
"Just because it's my birthday?" She asks, slipping a spoonful of anmitsu into her mouth and humming happily.
"Aa."
"Okay." She murmurs with a smile.
That night is the night everything changes.
Since the night they got drunk, they've taken to sleeping in the same bed. It's something that Sasuke has become accustomed to frighteningly easily, feeling the warmth of her so close to his body in the night. It's comforting in a way he didn't really expect.
She kisses him when he slips under the covers. He's surprised, but doesn't complain. This is new territory; so far, beds have been purely for sleeping. His mind is buzzing pleasantly as her fingers trace patterns on his chest through his shirt, shifting his callused fingers though her slightly damp hair.
"Sasuke-kun?" She murmurs. There's barely any space between their faces; he can feel her breath across his cheeks.
"Hm?" He looks at her through half-closed eyes. There's just enough light filtering through the shoji screen and open window overhead that he can see her in the dark.
"We're not drunk tonight." She breathes.
"No we're not." He agrees.
She chews on a thumbnail, looking at up him through her lashes. "If… if you want to, I'd like to…"
He expects hesitation, but finds none. Slowly, his hand grasps her wrist, pulling it away from her face so he can rest his forehead against hers. "Okay." He breathes.
There's some shuffling as they sit up and she arranges herself on his lap, straddling him over crossed knees. Their new position places her in a beam of moonlight coming from the window above the bed. "Are you sure?" She asks, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. "It's not just because it's my birthday?"
"I told you," he tangles his hand in her hair and draws her downward, "I don't do things I don't want."
He lowers her lips to his, feeling her hands on his shoulders to brace herself against him. She makes a sound when his tongue enters her mouth, fingers clenching around the fabric.
He allows himself to be bold, dragging his lips along her jaw to suck on the skin just below her ear. She makes a breathy sound that he likes, and her hands slip under the collar of his shirt to scrape her nails along his clavicle. Deciding to see what other sounds he can pull from her, he pushes her hair back off her shoulder and presses hot kisses along her throat, stopping to press his tongue against her pulse.
"Sasuke-kun," she breathes, tugging at his shirt. He pulls back for a second and shrugs it off before tugging her toward him, hand ghosting around her body and slipping under her nightshirt. His fingers meet smooth skin where her bindings should be. "Here, let me—" she pulls her shirt off over her head.
It's not the first time he's seen her bare like this, but it's the first time he's given the opportunity to really drink her in. There are a few old scars across her skin that appear silvery in the moonlight, likely from when they were young and she hadn't learned to heal yet. Her breasts are full and firm, nipples rosy pink in the moonlight. She looks even better than in his dreams.
She makes a small noise of embarrassment as he stares. Rather than give her the opportunity to second guess her boldness and cover herself again, he bends to press a kiss to her sternum, palming a breast with his hand. Her nipple is stiff under his palm, and he rolls it experimentally as he kisses up the opposite side of her neck.
"Oh!" She cries when he nips at her throat lightly with his teeth. "That—that feels good."
"This?" He rolls his palm over her breast again.
"Yes." She breathes.
Sasuke has no idea what he's doing, but that hardly seems to matter. He's running off basic instinct and half-recalled drunken advice from his best friend and perverted ex-teacher. For a moment, he wishes he still had his left hand. That way he wouldn't have to choose where to touch at any given time.
It occurs to him that, while he doesn't have a second hand, he has a mouth that can now be used in new and creative ways.
"Lay down." He murmurs against her neck.
"Huh?" She blinks at him, eyes hazy.
"On your back."
She obeys, face flushed but looking up at him curiously. Using the stump of his left arm to hold himself up, he settles himself between her thighs and his hand returns to her breast. His mouth closes around the peak of the other, and she gasps. "Oh!"
Her hands fly to his hair as he swirls around her nipple with his tongue. He sucks lightly before releasing her, looking up at her face. "Is this okay?"
She nods vigorously, and he returns to tasting her skin. He's painfully hard against the material of his trousers now, and he knows she can feel it against her thigh. She whimpers as his teeth graze the sensitive skin of her areola, hips stuttering up to press against him.
He groans at the heat of her, pressing himself against her hips. The sound she makes is so indescribably erotic that he does it again.
"Please," she gasps, fingers scrabbling at the waistband of her shorts. "Please, I need you to—" He backs up onto his knees to help her remove them. He swallows at the sight of her completely naked before him.
"I—I don't," he stammers, staring. "I don't know what to do. Show me."
Her cheeks are dark, but she obeys, parting her legs a little wider and slipping her fingers downward. His brain ceases functioning completely when she spreads herself under his gaze.
"T-touch me here," she mumbles, swirling a dainty finger around a stiff nub of flesh and gasping. "That's my clitoris." She trails her fingers lower, his mismatched eyes following her every move hungrily. "This is my urethra, you don't need to worry about that," she says, passing a small hole, tapping on the side, "and this is my vaginal opening." She presses her fingers into it a little. When she pulls them away, he can see a faint wetness shining on them in the moonlight. "You can put your fingers there if… but it's better here at first." She swirls them around the little nub again before removing her hand completely and wiping it on the mattress.
He nods dumbly. A particularly filthy conversation with Naruto comes to mind, and as much as he really doesn't want to be thinking about that idiot right now, he can't help but ask "Do you want me to—with my mouth—?"
Her eyes are so wide he's surprised they don't pop out of her head before she shakes it vigorously. "Not—not this time." She squeaks.
He releases a shaky breath and nods, leaning forward over her. Resting his weight on the remnants of his arm again, he lets his hand trail down over her skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake until he reaches the thatch of coarse curls. His eyes rake over her face for a moment before she nods, and he slips his fingers lower.
The first word that he thinks of is slick, followed by hot. He groans into her chest as he touches her experimentally, fingers light and unsure against her heated skin. She mewls when he twitches them a certain way, and he repeats the action, trying to draw the sound from her again. She cards her fingers through his hair as he dips his face into the curve of her throat, tasting the sweat over her pulse.
He draws back to watch her face as he strokes her slick, heated skin. Her brows are furrowed, like she's concentrating. "Don't strain," he rasps, dipping a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Just tell me."
"A—a little harder." She whispers. He gets the shock of his life when he feels her hand join his, guiding him to touch her how she likes it. She's panting by the time he gets hang of it, withdrawing her hand and running it up along his arm. He can feel the slick wetness on her fingers cool and dry in trails along his fevered skin.
"Fuck, Sakura." He's so hard it hurts. His head is spinning with the smell of her; the floral shampoo she used just before coming to bed, the citrusy scent of the soap that they share, the indescribable smell of her sex wafting around them. It's intoxicating. He feels her twitch and moves his fingers to her opening. "Can I…?" She nods desperately. "It won't hurt?" He knows it's her first time. He doesn't want to make things too uncomfortable for her.
She shakes her head. "That's a myth," she pants, "perpetuated by idiots who don't know what they're doing. It doesn't hurt if you do it right."
Reassured, he presses two fingers into her opening. His thumb strains to keep teasing her clitoris as his fingers explore the inside of her, feeling the walls of her sex clamp down on them. It's so hot that it almost burns.
She cries out when he brushes his fingertips against a slightly rougher patch of skin inside of her. He stills, fearing that he's hurt her, but she whimpers and moves against his hand. "Do that again!" She gasps, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, panting against his chin. Cautiously, he presses his digits against the bumpy patch and is rewarded with a hitch of her breath.
"Is this good?" He asks, voice gravelly.
"Yes," she gasps as he grinds the heel of his hand across her clitoris and strokes the strange spot inside her at the same time. She bites her lip and whines. "Don't stop,"
He touches her like this for a few minutes; she begins to twitch and claw at his skin, giving off tortured gasps and whines that, if he didn't know better, he would mistake for pain. She flutters around his digits as he feels her body tense beneath him, before she grips him like a silken vice and keens, pulsing around his fingers.
"Stop, stop!" She pants when the waves subside, snatching his hand away. "Too much!"
He hovers over her with a devastating smirk, pride swelling in his chest for unravelling her after so short a lesson. As her glazed eyes focus, her hands fly to her face and she squeaks "Don't look at me like that!"
"Like what?" He purrs against the shell of her ear, pulling one of her hands away.
"Shut up!" She whines.
"And if I don't?"
She shoves him back to the mattress with a whump!, forcing him on his back and straddling his legs. He raises his eyebrows at her as she scowls prettily down at him, lips tugged into a pout. "It's my birthday." She reminds him. "You're not allowed to make fun of me." He feels too hot like this, the pad of the futon cool against his skin. Sakura hovers over him, dipping down to kiss him sloppily; he grunts as she trails her fingertips lightly down his chest, coming to rest at the waistband of his trousers. "Off." She demands softly, rising just enough to let him kick them away.
He hisses as he's freed from his pants, swallowing thickly as Sakura stares at his erection. Cautiously, she reaches out to touch him, glancing up at his face briefly before wrapping her small hand around him and squeezing.
"Fuck," he can't help but throw his head back as he twitches in her grasp, sending a dark blush smearing across his cheeks when he peeks at her to see her biting her lip. She swipes her thumb along the tip of him, spreading the wetness beading there across the head before giving him an experimental pump. He screws his eyes shut and fights back the urge to buck his hips as she starts working him.
He pushes himself up onto his stump, snatching forward to pull her down into a hot, wet kiss. She makes a muffled sound and releases him, helping him sit up properly. Sliding up along his legs, she presses her heat against his need, searing him. "I want you now." She murmurs into his mouth, prompting him to groan.
He breaks the kiss and nods, pressing his forehead against hers. She steadies him with a hand and rises. His hand clenches on her hip as she slowly lowers herself; he hisses through his teeth and buries his face in her neck as he feels her heat envelop him, his brain completely whiting out.
She pauses when she's fully seated, running her fingers through his hair softly. "Sasuke-kun? Are you okay?"
He nods mutely against her throat. He doesn't think he's capable of speech right this moment; a strangled sound rips itself from his chest when she raises herself and lowers again, beginning a slow rhythm that quickly has him spiralling out of his body and into bliss. He jerks in her hold as her arms slip around his shoulders, anchoring him to her in the moment.
She draws him up into a sweet kiss as she rolls her hips into him, whispering his name into his mouth. His hand moves from her hip to her hair to hold her to him almost desperately. He doesn't want to let her go. Never, ever again.
She breaks the kiss with a hiss that is unmistakably one of pain. Sasuke's body stills instantly. "What is it?"
"It's nothing." She grimaces in apology. "Just… my legs hurt." She says bashfully. "Can—can we swap?"
He nods and she separates from him. He hisses as the air rushes in to cool his heated flesh, eagerly joining her as she lies back down. Her thighs part instantly for him, and he sinks back inside with a sigh of relief. Big, green eyes stare up at him with complete devotion from a halo of soft pink, making him pause to kiss her forehead before he moves again.
He hikes her leg up over his hip as he rolls them forward, sweat beading all over his body. She locks her ankles together behind his back, holding him close and giving him better access to her; he props himself up on the remains of his left arm and snatches his hand back between her thighs, wanting to know what it feels like to have her squeezing him like she had his fingers. He's not going to last long; he can already feel the tightening behind his navel that heralds the end.
"Sakura," he rasps against her cheek, peppering kisses along the profile of her face.
Something in his tone must tell her what he's trying to articulate, because she whimpers and says "It's okay Sasuke-kun. I already had—ah!—mine."
It's all he needs to tip him over the edge. He moans hotly against her collarbone as he spills his wetness inside her, his hand clenching at her hip desperately. He trembles in her arms as he pants against flushed skin, slowly coming down from a high he'd never quite touched before. Gradually, he becomes aware of gentle fingertips smoothing along his back. Blearily, he lifts his face and kisses her languidly, slipping out but keeping his body pressed against hers.
She giggles into his mouth. "You good?"
"Mhmm." He hums, fingers toying with the edges of her hair, fanned out along the pillow. "You?"
"I feel like I need a shower," she sighs dreamily, "but I feel so good right now."
"It can wait until tomorrow." He murmurs against her ear, feeling his eyes drift closed. He muses that it would be easy to fall asleep right now, cradled by her warmth.
"Yeah," she says wryly, "but I also need to pee. That can't wait."
He barks a laugh and rolls off of her, sending her giggling. "Go on, then."
They can't stop touching each other the next day.
She sits on his lap at breakfast. They shower together. He presses her against the wall of the bathroom before tugging her back toward the bedroom, hair still wet and towels forgotten. It's all so light-hearted and full of love that Sasuke almost can't fathom it. And as they lay together in the aftermath, his fingers lazily trailing up and down the curve of her spine, he presses his lips to her temple and sighs in complete and utter contentment.
("Hey, Sakura?"
"Hm?"
"I love you too.")
THE END
May I politely remind you that this was meant to be a short piece? I was just like "man, I wanna write some smut for once" and then this MONSTROSITY came into being.
I'm going to go die now. Please leave your farewells in the review box below.
