So... I natively speak Spanish and I translated this work to give it a shot. If you find mistakes do let me know, that would help me improve my English. If you know the language, you can find the original in my stories. Enjoy.
They crossed the door threshold. Doubts absent since long ago.
No space was allowed between them, unable to stop.
Not even by chance this would be the last time.
The first had been impossible to predict, it just happened, their minds passing over all the questions, choosing to focus on the electricity tingling in the skin.
The second time was hesitant, almost interrupted by the rejection of their actions. It was tense, full of doubts, of fears… that didn't mean they enjoyed it less.
The third they had returned desperately, feeling like teenagers for a brief moment.
It had been easy to decide, because it was harder to deny it, it was way more difficult to pretend they had the will to stop.
What happened after… There's no need to explain.
They moved fast, impatient as they always were, because the forbidden was an unstoppable fuel. Because while the white coat fell to the ground, and the mask ceased to cover his face, there was no place left but for the implacable desire they felt.
Both of them knew that, should anyone found out, there would be no way to be helped.
The status they had was heavy on their shoulders, but not for the reasons they had worked so hard for.
They understood each other more than anyone, because they carried the weight of one single name. A name that drowned all the personal value they had as shinobis, as individuals.
The severe mention of the clan had stained them forever, a black ink worse than a tattoo.
It reduced them to a shinobi that used to possess a "stolen" kekkei genkai, to a kunoichi whose only merit was to be married to one.
And that very same thing made them give in, surrender. They adapted to each other as easy as breathing.
Not that they were justifying themselves, nor did they try. They accepted, reluctant at first, finding strength in each other's hands, in the understanding they felt when they tore off their clothes.
They had witnessed the best and the worst, had endured together critical moments of their lives.
So they compensated what was missing in the other; in him the company that his isolation repelled, moved by the fear of loss. In her to forget the indefinite abandonment, the constant doubt of the departure, of the homecoming.
The feeling of being strangers in their own lives attracted them like magnets.
Never were they able to stop, and how they tried, just to come back more anxious, eager to find haven.
Because in each other's arms they found the shelter they needed.
They wondered at what moment they had crossed the line of respect between a sensei and his student.
Was in the first hug that lasted longer than usual?
Was in the caress on her hair when he comforted her after watching him leave?
Was in the violent kiss they shared after an unusually intense sparring?
They never discussed it, there was no need.
There was no need because the only thing they longed was to find release in each other's arms.
So, between gasps, between sweat and saliva, between silver and pink, they let themselves go.
And, without fail even once, they smiled.
Because for a moment they ceased to be the copy ninja and the Uchiha wife.
They smiled for the authenticity of the meeting, for the sincerity of what happened between them.
She kissed the scar on his face, and he kissed the seal in her forehead. A gesture that reminded them their individuality.
None felt despair at departure.
Why would they when they shared that bubble, that personal paradise?
They'd come back inevitably.
And nothing would stop them.
There's something in this ship that makes way too much sense.