A/N: this idea has been killing me for ages and I've been dying to write it. Yes I'm a sasuhina shipper BUT I adore naruhina too so here's me having my cake and eating it so to speak. This is a remix of another story of mine, Safe Travels.

"N-Naruto? Can we talk?"

It was the subtle stutter as she said his name that let him know something was wrong. All throughout their childhood, Naruto's interactions with the girl who would grow into the woman he loves more than life itself were liberally colored by her infamous timidity around him. Nearly every instance of them seeing or speaking to each other was characterized by her soft voice jittery with nerves, her blushing face, and her downward cast eyes shyly chancing glances at his own, painfully oblivious, face. He had pegged her as weird but dear and left it at that. What an idiot he'd been.

To see her now was to see a woman come into her own, a woman who not only was worthy of his love, but who had surpassed him in a way that was as effortless as it was enchanting. That she counted him deserving of her smiles, of her heart, was the greater mystery in his estimation.

"Of course, hime. What's up?" Naruto replied easily, settling his weight in the chair he sat in so that he could angle his body more fully towards her, giving her the fullness of his attention.

Currently, the two of them were in his tiny apartment, the same apartment he'd had for as long as he could remember. In the corner was his ratty bed, and across from that his modest kitchen, and the first time Hinata set foot in his home he had nearly died of embarrassment, but she had simply smiled and thanked him for inviting her, treating his things as though they had value, and his love for her had deepened and intensified. She was perfect and more than he could ever deserve.

She fidgeted in her seat, her fingers clenched and her gorgeous eyes downcast. Her teeth subtly worried at her plush bottom lip, her cheeks flushed, her full chest beginning to heave with her nerves, and Natuto found himself sitting there with a worrying amount of curiosity, anxiety, and lust at the alluring vision.

"Hinata?"

"I'm pregnant."

For one blissful moment, complete comprehension of his hime's words utterly escaped him. It was impossible for Hinata to be pregnant; even the notion of it was laughable. Everyone knew she was with him, that she had waited patiently for him for years. Who would dare try to pierce the thick boundaries she had surrounded herself, that her very clan had surrounded her, with? Who besides him had begun to peel those layers back to catch a glimpse at the truth of her beauty, her softness, her strength? He couldn't comprehend it, couldn't conceptualize, didn't even want to. Down that path lay jealousy and rage of a size and scope he was afraid to get near, and so, for the first time in his life, Naruto allowed himself the luxury of giving in to shock, of shying away from the reality of her words and instead he found himself operating on autopilot, standing and pulling her trembling form into the warm shelter of his arms, kissing her repeatedly on her forehead and murmuring softly, babbling really, that he didn't care who's it was, if she wanted him with her he would be; eventually pulling away just far enough to tilt her head back, see her lavender eyes shining with unshed tears, cheeks damp with the ones that had escaped, and kiss her.

He meant for it to be soft, chaste, reassuring, but the way she clung to him, her fingers threading through his close cropped hair, her body molding to his, pressing her mouth against his with near uncharacteristic insistence, undid him, and he found himself deepening the kiss, parting her lips and stroking her tongue with his, a needy whine in his throat when she responded eagerly.

His hands were everywhere, touching the sides of her face and her hair, stroking down her sides and back, bunching the fabric of her cute dress in an iron grip and using it to pull her impossibly closer. He needed to be closer, needed to feel her skin against his, needed desperately to know that she was with him and only him, and never mind who she was with before and what he had left behind to grow within her. She belonged to him, and Naruto, well he had always been hers, even when he hadn't known it.

So caught up was he in her taste, her scent, the silkiness of her skin beneath his ravenous fingers, her curves pressed so intimately against the hard planes of his body, that he would have bore her down on the couch and made love to her right then and there were it not for her breaking the kiss and reluctantly pushing him away.

"Wait, I h-have to tell you who the father is," she said breathlessly, lovely face flushed from the intensity of their kisses.

Naruto allowed her the distance, quickly regaining his composure by shoving his hands through his close cropped hair. He gave her a nervous but encouraging grin.

"It doesn't matter to me who he is, but if you think it's important I know then I'm all ears, Hina-chan." He said, and he truly meant it. His love for her knew bounds that he couldn't comprehend, and though it did bother him more than he'd admit that she'd been with another man, he would not leave her side because of the child that was the result.

Hinata fidgeted and bit her lip anxiously, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Naruto found himself charmed by the action.

"Sasuke."

He blinked, uncomprehending.

"Uh...what?" Surely she hadn't said what he thought she had. There was no way. It was impossible.

Hinata met his eyes, two liquid pools of sorrow that threatened to drown him.

"The father...it's Sasuke Uchiha."