It was a tradition.
Now, Uzumaki Naruto was all about breaking tradition, but when you had a certain raven-haired prodigy as your best friend (he was not going to point fingers or give names-- Uchiha Sasuke) that was a tad hard to do. Curse Sasuke and his prestige. The arts, the ceremonies, curse all those, too, as they come with such a standard as held by the much-coveted boy; they were just all so boring. And really, he could do without hanami (or any tradition like it for that matter). Sakura blossom viewing was just not his cup of tea (oh no, no do not mention tea; his arm is still stinging from the burn he received from the teapot at the tea ceremony Sasuke had forced him to take part in). At least Sakura was being dragged along, too. Well, she did not actually have to be dragged along. She was more than happy to join them (if not anything else but to indulge in the eye-candy that was the young Uchiha).
This was going to be a long night.
"Naruto, are you ready yet?" Sakura's knuckles come down lightly on his closed bedroom door. She and Sasuke (who had been waiting for the blonde together, much to the latter's chagrin) are already done up nicely. The girl's rose-colored locks are held up at the back of her head with a variety of barrettes and other decorations, most of which she had made herself. Her frame is wrapped in a red kimono, its pattern being that of beautiful gold and orange koi fish, all tied together nicely at her middle with a golden obi sash. Head turning, Sakura's (self-dubbed) pretty green eyes fall upon the boy who had set this all up in the first place. She bats her lashes and one painted eyelid falls in a wink. Sasuke was wearing a traditional yukata, the fabric of which was a rich, velvety purple that was almost black, trimmed with a deep navy blue.
And it was with such a garment, the yukata, that Naruto was having trouble with at the moment. His was, to no surprise, orange, however, trimmed with a fiery crimson. His shoulders were draped with the yukata, left open with the lack of knowledge as exactly how to wear it correctly. Naruto's teeth clamp over his bottom lip to worry it softly as another knock on his door is heard, quicker and louder this time (he has been keeping them waiting for such a long time now).
"Sorry, I'm having some trouble," the blonde calls back to his pink-haired comrade, who then, with a giggle, transfers the message over to Sasuke. Padding over quietly to the door, it is Sasuke who knocks this time, Sakura returning to the couch where she had been seated sometime before while waiting for the blue-eyed boy. He needs not say anything for, almost in the blink of one obsidian eye of his; the door is unlocked and open just a crack in invitation to enter. Naruto is back in the spot he had been in just previously, as if he had never moved.
"Need help?" Sasuke's voice is an even quietness (then again, it always is; Sasuke was never all that vocal) as he accepts the invitation into Naruto's bedroom and shuts the door behind him.
"Yeah," a sheepish Naruto answers, scratching the back of his head. His arm drops, though, on command of the Uchiha as the prodigy makes his way over to help him. Blue eyes meet black for a split second as Sasuke's thin, pale fingers curl around the edges of Naruto's yukata to pull it around the blonde and tie it closed correctly. Those fingers pinch and tug here or there on the fabric to straighten it out, trail along the shoulder and down the chest (for just a moment or two long than necessary, perhaps) before Sasuke is satisfied.
"There," Sasuke utters softly, those obsidian orbs of his matching his tone as they sweep over the other boy before him once, twice, three times. Then it is gone, that softness, as his eyes tear away and Sasuke moves back. The sudden lack of warmth announces quite clearly what their proximity to each other had been just moments before (oh so close, they had been, oh so deliciously close). And the realization of this is almost immediate, given the barely-audible sound of displeasure from Naruto, though it could not be determined if the sound was being made out of displeasure from Sasuke not being that close anymore or the lack of comfort the yukata provides, and a slight, barely-noticeable tug of the lips downward on Sasuke's part.
"Come on, Sasuke, Naruto!" comes the call of Sakura, who they had almost forgotten was still waiting in the tiny living room of Naruto's small apartment. A haphazard grin plasters itself on Naruto's face (more for Sasuke's sake than for his own; he could at least pretend he was enjoying this). Moving past the prodigy, his hand just barely brushes the other boy's, leaving a warm tingle where skin just grazes skin. Naruto walks over to his bedroom door and slips out and to the living room, to be followed by Sasuke a second or two later. After an exchange of smiles (an excited one from Sakura, an almost forced one from Naruto, barely one, as expected, from Sasuke) they head on out of Naruto's apartment and into the streets of Konohagakure's more rundown section. No beauty thrives here, in these streets, in these alleys, so they aim for a destination on the other side of the shinobi village to where sakura trees grow for the simplistic pleasure of viewing and beauty is as abundant as their delicate, pink blossoms.
Beautiful those pink blossoms were, Naruto had to admit, as those cerulean eyes of his come to rest on what they had traveled across the village for. The limbs of the trees droop with the weight of the blossoms, millions upon millions of them, like jewels. The blonde can hear a whisper of obvious delight from Sakura, though he is too breath taken himself to figure out what she said. Maybe, just maybe, this would not be so bad.
And, truth be told, it was not bad at all. Night had graced them with its presence, illuminating the gorgeous blooms with pale moonlight and twinkling starlight. Fragrant was the air, thick and sweet, too, made all the sweeter with the murmurs of sweet nothings between lovers who were here together, holding hands and touching lips and sharing something that was so much more beautiful than what was around them. Something Naruto did not have, mind, so this little world he was in right now, this little world of pretty, fragrant blossoms and moonlight, was a good enough alternative.
Then it hits him. He was sharing this world with Uchiha Sasuke.
Sakura had left them some time ago to go do this or that, make small-talk and such, which Sasuke did not mind at all, for now the attempts at flirtatious chatter with him have stopped. A soft sigh escapes past pale, parted lips as the prodigy eases into a more relaxed state to enjoy what they had came here for. A head of dark hair turns so that equally dark eyes can make an attempt to catch, if even for a moment, the twin blue oceans that were Naruto's eyes. It is a success, their eyes meet, only for Sasuke to tear his away before a deeper connection can form. He throws his gaze off in another direction to drink in the sights of night time under the sakura trees, as if he had never looked at Naruto at all.
He then comes to a conclusion. Everything around him just did not compare to Uzumaki Naruto.
Then, oh then was one of those moments. You know, the kind two people have in which destiny smacks them upside the head and they each come to the realization that everything they have ever wanted, ever needed, was sitting right there across from them. Well, in this case, standing next to them underneath a sakura tree. And the first thought to cross each of their minds, right after coming across said realization, was that they each wanted to kiss the other so horribly badly that they just might die. Of course, in each their respective minds, they would not be the one to initiate such a thing, especially not here in front of all these people. A blush paints itself across the bridge of Naruto's nose, and Sasuke is quite certain that his cheeks are flaming. Some form of (utterly shocked) consolation comes to the blonde upon looking at Sasuke and seeing that he is just as red, and the same goes for Sasuke about Naruto as his eyes return to the boy.
But wait, that meant that they were each thinking the same thing. Oh lord.
Naruto felt his chest constrict painfully, butterflies coming to life in the depths of his stomach. Oh no, oh no, oh no. His blush deepens, the harshest of crimsons now staining the bridge of his nose and spreading to his lightly tanned cheeks. The farthest his eyes can go from Sasuke's are to the prodigy's lips, and he wonders if they feel as soft as they look. Sasuke is wondering the same thing about Naruto's lips and almost loses composure at glimpsing Naruto's tongue darting out quickly to moisten them. A very thin sheen of saliva adds to the appeal of those seemingly soft lips of the blonde's and Sasuke flushes as his mind wanders off and brings back the thought of what it would be like to have that tongue leaving a sheen of saliva on his own skin. The Uchiha's heart is beating a staccato melody against his ribcage to match the short, quickened breaths that he is taking to calm himself. A decision is made by the raven-haired boy when calm does not come, but butterflies of his own do.
Sasuke was undoubtedly an Uchiha, and Uchiha's never back down, always go after what they want, and, right now, Sasuke wanted Naruto.
"Sasuke?" comes Naruto's voice, surprisingly smooth. Sasuke's lips, once parted as to say something, but not getting the chance as Naruto beat him to it, close the space between themselves to rest once again, one on top of the other (like, oh dear, Sasuke wanted him and that oh-so gorgeous blonde to be) and the only hint that he was listening was a soft sound.
"Hn?" A pause, a glance to the petal covered ground by two blue orbs, then back up to reel two black pools of onyx in and that it almost enough to make Sasuke want to utter a lot more sounds than that (only, those sounds would be a lot louder, and much more needy, for sure). Sasuke can sense the hesitation and his heart skips a beat and, for a split second, he cannot breathe.
"You always include me in all these traditions; I want to show you one, too." Naruto speaks soft and slow, not giving his tongue a chance to betray him. Taking Sasuke's wrist (as he is not brave enough to go for his hand just yet), the blonde pulls the raven-haired male along and away from the scattered groups of people to where the air is not as sugary sweet and the sweet nothings that mingle with it will not interfere with his own, that is, if he can get them past his lips through his nervousness.
They do not stop until Naruto is sure that there is no one around to hear or see them, and his well-trained shinobi senses confirm that there is indeed no one but them now under a lone sakura tree away from all the rest. Tan fingers, still clenching Sasuke's seemingly-delicate, pale wrist, tighten their grip for a second before going slack and slipping down the few inches to lace with Sasuke's own fingers, much to the other boy's surprise. Sasuke would never have expected Naruto make a first move of any kind. The prided side of him screams out in indignation, while the younger, teenage boy side of him sighs in relief that he will be spared the embarrassment. So there they stand in absolute silence, holding hands and being graced with the fall of petals and whole blossoms coming to rest on the ground around them in a pastel carpet, one that matches the curtains that keep them hidden from eyes that are not there.
It is Naruto who moves first, shifting closer and leaning in an inch or two, but it is Sasuke who throws caution to the wind, pulling the blonde to his chest and crashing their lips together. This is not the first time he has broken in the presence of the blonde, but it is the first time that he does not care. Naruto's eyes, having gone wide at their lips making contact, gradually flutter shut, his best friend's already having done so. Lips melding and moving together, Naruto's arms snake around the dark-haired boy's neck. In turn, Sasuke's arms encircle the blonde's waist, pulling him as close as he could. A startled gasp on the Uchiha's part as hips collide is all the cue that Naruto needs for his tongue to be prying those two parted, delicious lips apart just a bit more. Instantly, Naruto's tongue takes to exploring the warm, moist cavern of Sasuke's mouth, enticing Sasuke's own tongue with a stroke and a swirl that heats the kiss.
Another stroke of the tongue and a shift for a better angle that rubs and grinds their hips together tantalizingly coaxes a soft moan from the back of Sasuke's throat. The sound is almost enough to send the young Uzumaki over the edge, to drive him to pushing the other male against the trunk of the sakura tree or to the petal-covered ground and letting passion guide him from there. However, he keeps himself under what control he can and aims for another moan. Not that difficult, he gets what he wants quickly and he notices that control was starting to slip away. A moan of his own erupts from deep in his chest to be swallowed by Sasuke's mouth in the heat of their kiss at a long, slow grind of the hips that feels all too good for words. It was as if Sasuke had done that deliberately, to get back at Naruto for shoving his tongue down his throat (not that that was a bad thing), and, truth be told, Naruto would not be surprised if that were true.
Starting to run out of air, Sasuke gave a breathless whimper. If he was not engaged in such a fit of passion, he would have been mortified and yelled at himself (Uchiha's do not do certain things, and whimpering was one of them). Naruto, however, is the one of the two to break the kiss. Immediately, there is the snapping open of eyes and the shudder of deep breaths and a whisper from the blonde that makes Sasuke almost gag on the saliva that Naruto had left behind in his mouth to mix with his own.
"I love you." The confession is soft, murmured into Sasuke's ear with a hot breath. A shiver courses down his spine and a mewl of delight cascades from his lips as the tip of Naruto's tongue traces the shell of his ear in accompaniment to the sentiment, plays with the lobe and pulls it into Naruto's mouth. The blonde has always been bold, from his style of dress to his speech, and at that moment Sasuke took back all the things he has ever said against it, for this boldness of Naruto's really was not turning out to be a bad thing at all. At the release of his earlobe a displeased sound rises in the back of his throat, only to spill from him in the form of a purr as that wonderful tongue belonging to the other laps at the area behind his ear and works its way down his swan-like neck. A gasp and a groan leave the dark-haired male as Naruto takes to nipping the pale, delicate skin that was at the mercy of his hungry mouth. Nips begin to turn into short, harsher bites that make Sasuke squirm in delight (the masochist he is) and Naruto lets up to sooth the redden, abused area with his tongue.
"I love you, too," falls in the beginnings of a pant from the much sought-after Uchiha, voice becoming thick with lust. With this, he is on the ground beneath the orange-clad boy in another bruising kiss that would have knocked the wind out of him if the impact of hitting the ground had not already accomplished that. His fingers entwine themselves in Naruto's golden hair as a set of hands wander down his chest to all but tear the dark yukata he was wearing open, revealing a milky-white plane that was his chest. Naruto's soft fingertips brush and tease every inch of exposed skin, causing Sasuke to tremble beneath his touch and arch into it.
And it is the expressions on Sasuke's face that drive him wild, the way his eyes screw shut with a moan (which are coming in more rapid success as his fingers dance lower and lower), the way his lips part with a soft toss of the head backward when he happens to brush a sensitive patch of skin in just the right way. Another kiss and a tug on the fabric of Sasuke's yukata at his hips bring them upward, Naruto's coming down to meet them and drive Sasuke up the wall.
Between kisses and the removal of articles of clothing come short exclamations of love, pleads for the each other to stay forever. Soon, though, those exclamations turn to ones of mind-shattering pleasure, and those pleads of devotion give in to make way for those of a more explicit nature. It was the most (literally) erotic high, bodies moving together in a horizontal intimacy.
A steady mantra of Naruto's name comes pouring from Sasuke's lips to turn into a careening scream, pulled from his chest as his frame is wracked with a surge of pleasure so great that he is cast into an oblivion. All the young Uchiha can see is stars as his heart beats loudly in his ears, mouth open in a silent cry. When a loud yell reaches his ears, at first he thinks that it is himself, but he quickly finds that it is Naruto, the blonde joining him in that paradise of their own device to enjoy the peak of their high together before easing out of it in a tangle of limbs and a soft, sluggish string of sweet kisses.
"So what was this tradition you wanted to show me...?" Sasuke manages to ask when control of his tongue returns to him and he can form words instead of just animalistic sounds. His fingers stroke Naruto's hair idly, sweeping some away from those twin pools of hopes and dreams, of want and need.
"This. I wanted to show you this. I want it to be...our tradition..." Cheek pressed to Sasuke's bare chest, listening to his slowed-down heartbeat, the corners of his lips tug upward in a tired, oh-so loving smile. Maybe, just maybe, taking part in tradition was not that bad, not if it ended like this, not if this was one.
And sleep claims them both, the last murmurs of sweet nothings passing between them to float about the two in a cloud of warmth and wishes, to settle over them in a blanket as they rest together in their sakura blossom bed.