Disclaimer: Sasuke/Naruto – don't like, don't read. Naruto and Co. belong to Masashi Kishimoto.


I lay against his side, my eyes closed, just feeling the steady rhythm of our breaths. In. Out. In. Out. We were in sync. Time, space – all was still. And in that very moment, that very infinitesimal second, we were one. And right then, I felt like…I was home.

I could feel his fingers twirling through my hair, spiraling strands around his fingers and then letting them fall back into place. Like they were his. Like I was his. I wanted to tell him. I was prepared to plead. But my heart ached at the thought of rejection. At the infinite number of ways he could say no. It would hurt more than not knowing. Not knowing if this was sure. If it was real.

We were laying on a bed in this cheap motel a few blocks away from our school. The room had a full-sized bed, a dresser, a TV, and a small bathroom. The thinly carpeted floor was stained, as if no one ever bothered to clean the stains. Stains. All over the bed.

And now, I felt them, as I lay all over them. Over the raggedy blanket, over the mattress with the springs poking at my shoulder. And I lay all over him. His hand is soothing, as is his body. Graceful, pale, and lithe. He was majestic, powerful, and strong. His milky chest was sheen with sweat, and I watched it wonderingly as it rose and fell. I was resting my head against his shoulder, breathing into his neck. Kissing and licking it. We were satiated and full. Safe. In this dingy, shady motel – with only the button on the doorknob separating us from the world.

Gradually I felt him shift and he got up to sit, stretching all the while. I felt a lump worm its way into my throat, and a sting in my eyes. He started to put back on his white collared shirt, undoubtedly pressed this very morning, and his tie.

"Sasuke," I began, but hesitated.

"What?" He looked down at me with an eyebrow raised, a slight sparkle of curiosity shining in his eyes.

"Nevermind," I decided, quirking a smile. I quickly sat up and grabbed the silk tie he was in the middle of knotting. Taking my time, I finished tying it for him, securing it at the base of his neck and smoothed it down with my hands. He caught my hands in his, and I melted under his gaze. Those dark eyes. His lips pressed against mine, once – lingering – and when I opened my eyes the bathroom door had closed and I heard the toilet lid clang against the cistern.

I slowly lay back down on the bed. Another time. There would be another time.


A/N: A shortie. I'm thinking of making it into a multi-chaptered story, but then I would need to come up with a plot. And also, I'm not very good with continuing stories - so it would suck for readers if I dropped it.