A/N: Unbeta'd fluff because there's not enough of it. Alternative title "These Two Goddamn Idiots Are So In Love, Fight Me" ~TA
She loves his voice.
Late at night, early in the morning, stressed, harried, loud, joyful, it didn't matter: hearing it made her heart thud in her chest and her pulse race like a twelve year old girl in love for the first time. She hears it in the street as he greets someone he knows: boisterous, cheerful, full of delight, and she catches herself turning in his direction, the better to hear it again.
At work, it's a low, thoughtful murmur, sometimes grave, mainly calm; when she passes the door to his office, she can hear the cadence of his tone speak to the severity of the subject, and she has to hide a smile at the thought of the orange brat, who used to yell about becoming Hokage, actually living up to the title.
In battle – and it is rare for wars now, for fights and scraps that call soldiers to the front, even rarer for the Hokage to be needed – his voice is a decibel to move mountains: thunderous, tumultuous, it rallies everyone to his side, and no one can deny that he is the hero needed when he raises his shout to the army before him. She's always at his side when he needs her, is the first to feel the intensity of his cry shiver down her bones.
At home, his tone is vibrant – even his scoldings teeter on the edge of laughter, and there's nothing but light and joy in everything he says, because this is his home, his family, where he belongs, has always wanted to belong. She hears it in the way he rushes through a story, hoping to impress his children with heroic deeds that might – just might – be a little exaggerated, when he struggles to help with homework that should really have been brought to mom instead, when he reads bedtime stories and drops sloppy kisses on children's heads that squirm and squeal in pretend disgust.
With her, his tone is gentle: his voice slides like silk around her, as his mouth moves up her skin and touches her in all the places she needs him. He whispers words of adoration into the flesh of her stomach, groans his need for her in the space between her legs. Lips brush against the seal on her forehead as he smoothes his hands down her body, worships her like he has done his entire life.
She loves his voice: the power, the strength, the laughter, the love, the compassion, all of it, everything combined that makes him who he is.
And she loves his voice the most when blue eyes meet green, filled with a love she can never hope to quantify, when he breathes "Sakura-chan" against her lips, and she knows that she is home.