A/N: Man, I suck at crossposting... Anyway! I wrote this for Femslash February. It was way later in the month than I'd have expected before I got to this ship, which I knew I wanted to do for the month and which was on my personal to-do bingo card. I had ideas, but none of them were clicking with me. Then this little slice of life scene popped into my head and the words ran like water. Enjoy!
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Hinata collapses on the couch, exhaustion dragging her down into the cushions. She catches sight of Sakura poking her head in from the kitchen in the moment before her eyes flutter shut and she explains, "Tired."
Sakura is a hum from the doorway and footsteps across the room, breath in Hinata's ear and a kiss on her cheek. Hinata cracks her eyes open just enough to slant her a look and smiles, weary but warm, before closing them again.
Without a word, Sakura lifts Hinata's head and shoulders and slips under her, careful not to catch her hair under her thighs. Hinata taps the dregs of her energy reserves to move with the motions so that she isn't a dead weight in Sakura's hands and so that she can drag herself onto her side and curl into Sakura's warmth, settle a hand on Sakura's hip.
"You push yourself too hard sometimes," Sakura says above her; the hypocrisy startles a laugh out of Hinata, there and gone before she even has time to bury it against Sakura's belly. Sakura huffs, but Hinata can hear it pass the curve of a smile. Sakura presses, "I'm not wrong, though."
Rather than argue or agree, Hinata hums and snuggles into Sakura's lap. Sakura's fingers brush over her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear and then following its curve beneath the curtain of her hair. They dance over the nape of her neck then across her shoulders and back, alternating pressure, petting and probing at the same time. There's a moment that the touch disappears entirely and Hinata hears the clap of a hand sign formed over her head, then it's back. Hinata moans outright as Sakura rubs healing chakra into her muscles in small circles, untangling knots and soothing aches.
Skimming back up Hinata's neck, Sakura splays her fingers to cup the back of her skull; she squeezes and chakra flows like water in a brook, washing away the beginning of a headache and making Hinata shiver a bit from relief. She finds it in herself to open her eyes again, only just, to turn a loving look up at Sakura, who returns it. Nails still scritching lightly over Hinata's scalp, Sakura leans down, rubs her nose against Hinata's on the way to whisper a kiss over her lips; her hand on Hinata's head supports her, but doesn't press. Hinata sighs her happiness into the kiss, brushes her lips over Sakura's in return. It's brief and chaste, but still warms Hinata from the inside out.
"Sakura," she whispers in the space between them when Sakura pulls back, pausing again to nuzzle before she sits up. Sakura meets her gaze again, affection shining in her eyes, and Hinata hates to ask, "What's burning?"
There's a second where the whole world seems to pause, save the smell of smoke drifting in from the kitchen. Then the second hand ticks forward and Sakura jolts up with a shouted swear, only her years-refined reflexes saving Hinata from hitting the floor.
More shouting and a lot more swearing stains the air along with the smoke from their neglected dinner. Laying on the couch, feeling just a little more energized than when she came in, Hinata looks toward the kitchen and smiles.