Title: Being Needed

Rated: Mature

Warnings: Language and sexual contentedness. Yes, contentedness.

Synopsis: An angsty, dark one-shot. Kakashi and Sakura live in a world where all their loved ones are gone despite how hard they tried to hold on to them. Now they have no choice left but to hold on to one another.

Beta: HeartKakashi

A/N: I'm use to writing comedy and am most comfortable with it, and I usually like crazy ideas, but this story is simple. A little dark, touching upon how death makes us feel and what we can do to ease the mourning. And today was an off day. So instead of finishing up on chapters of HCBD, I wrote this instead. Hope I did it right..

Shorter than what I usually do. Not much dialogue. Not even names.. But you guys know who I'm writing about.

Might I suggest going to r-a-i-n-y-m-o-o-d-.-c-o-m and then reading this? Take out the dashes. It's what I did to write today. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Being Needed

By: meelomango

The felt tip touched his lips and he inhaled the cool, searing sensation, filling his lungs to the brim denying all urges to release his breath till he couldn't take the pleasurable, addictive burn any longer. And he exhaled, a thin cloud of smoke obscured his vision as he continued to focus his dark, pit-less eye on the obsidian memorial before him.

There were no thoughts in his mind this time, just like yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.. and so on. He simply blankly stared on without a prayer in his heart he could say to the dead his visited daily.

There was a time when he spoke to them. Shared his thoughts like he had never done before to a living soul. And as each one were cruelly ripped from his hands that fought so hard for them to live, slowly his ability to share left along with them. A numb emptiness from endless failure crept inside and before he knew it, there were no more prayers.

He took another long drag of the cigarette in his hand before flicking the flamed butt far off. With a final glance, a simple regard of his head, and still without anything left to say, he disappeared.

The place between sleep and wake, where your mind plays and your thoughts drift, was what made him most uneasy. And the only thing worse was actually sleep. Where the nightmares plagued and taunted unrelentingly. Screams and cries were harder to ignore in the subconscious than awake.

So there he laid in bed, bearing the painful sting of insomnia as he stared holes into the white ceiling. His mouth bitter from the liquor he forced down to make the night easier but he knew that was wishful thinking. The liquid only dumbed his senses to an almost insignificant degree so he was only slightly less aware of how pathetic his life had become. But whatever relief he could get he took it.

Everyone was gone. Despite all his effort, the many scars that decorated his pale skin told the stories of how he couldn't save them. Though being declared genius with the sacrificed gift he received, his kekkei genkai, it still wasn't enough. He wasn't enough.

Death was a funny thing, he often thought to himself. The irony of what it was, the verb of what it did. It gave the dead supposed peace but it gave the living something that ached more than pain. Passed the point where agony and emptiness met, intertwined and surfaced as a new emotion he could not name. And he couldn't ignore it even if he tried. Everyone was gone.

His bed dipped at the end as he felt a body hesitantly crawl up to his. Almost everyone was gone.

"Sensei?" the timid, small voice called out to him, "... are you awake?"

He blinked once at the ceiling and sighed. She was here again. He swiftly grabbed the fragile body next to him, flipping her onto her back before blanketing his large, naked frame over hers with only the thinnest bed sheet separating them. His bloodshot eyes pierced searchingly into her large emerald ones. He stilled, his breathing even as he looked into her. They use to be so vibrant and fiery. Now the irises were dulled, almost lifeless, but as she laid trapped underneath his weight he saw the tiniest glimpse of what they use to be and that was enough vindication that he wasn't committing a sin.

It may have been wrong, what they were doing to make the night bearable, but it was the only release they had from the numbness.

Without an ounce of apprehension, he dipped his head and caught her lips with his. His body trembling with the only emotion he could muster besides the prevailing hollowness- a hunger that shook his very core.

She returned his kiss with fervor, a passion she was unfamiliar with but made no effort to deny. How could she turn away the only thing that made her feel like this. The taste of alcohol intermixed with cigarettes lingered and instead of cringing she deepened the kiss, allowing him access into her, taking all of him, all of his pain into her. His velvet tongue explored her mouth, stroking and invoking desire pooling in the pits of her belly. Her hands tangled into his his silvery hair pulling him even closer to her if it were possible.

He pulled the sheet separating them away before reaching for the thin nightgown she wore, pulling it up to her waist. Unrestrained, he pushed the bit of fabric of her panties to the side before plunging his pulsating, strained thickness into her all the way to the hilt. They both sighed in relief as their bodies connected.

Her back arched in sheer pleasure, feeling him fill and stretch her, and the slight dull ache of him forcing himself into her without preparation. But she needed this. She needed him inside her. And he needed this..

Slowly, very slowly he inched himself out and she could hear her wetness as he moved. With only his tip still buried inside her, he pushed himself back into her, taking a slow, lazy pace while relishing in the tight, convulsing heat of her muscles surrounding him.

He hissed as he inhaled, watching her writhe underneath him. His hands palmed her modest breasts and tweaked her nipples through her nightgown. She moaned and the sound made him even harder, wanting to fill the room with her pleasured cries. His pace was more insistent, the sounds of their bodies slapping against one another resonated. He grew frustrated with her gown and tore it completely off her body, exposing her flesh to his starved eyes. With a snap, he ripped away her panties. Now reveling in the softness of her skin upon his, he smoothly rode his shaft into her.

He growled in the back of his throat before dipping his head low and captured her nipple into his hot searing mouth. Grabbing her wrists with one hand, he held them down over head as his thrusts deepened, pounding into her core so hard, forcing her body to jolt upward.

Vulnerable and powerless against the pleasure he brought her, she mewed, writhed and moaned. She lost control over her body as he sucked and nipped the parts of her neck that he was well familiar with. The special areas that gave her bliss that only a comfortable lover would know.

Her hands fought his grasp and he instantly gave her the freedom she sought. She quickly brought them to caress down his back, enjoying the way his taut muscles twitched and rippled under her touch. She gripped the plump flesh of his ass, so she could feel him as he pummeled himself into her. Her fingertips urged him on as she squeezed, her own hips bucking up to meet his rhythmically.

"Say it." he grunted between heavy breaths.

She turned her head and looked deeply into his mismatched eyes and it did not take her by surprise the hellfire behind them that was only apparent in the nights they shared. But there was a glint of desperation as she looked deeper. She reached a hand to caress over his strong brow before tangling into his hair, pulling him closer she declared for him alone, "… I need you, Sensei."

He drove into her harder. The simple phrase filling his ears, he crashed his lips onto hers, swallowing her moans into him as he quickened his pace, hitting a certain spot over and over and over again. A tightening was building up inside her and she could feel her release begging. It was not long before he felt himself also come undone as well, his pace becoming frenzied and rushed without meaning to. She screamed his name and he could feel her climax tighten and convulse around his cock. His balls clenched painfully and finally he thrust hard into her with a grunt, allowing his seed to fill her as she came down from her release.

Willing his breath to calm, and his member still buried deep in her depths, he took her into his arms before he moved to lay on his side, cradling her to him as if she may disappear from his world like the rest of them. Her arms wrapped around his middle and she tightened her hold onto him in silent reply. And together they found the type of sleep they craved. No dreams. No nightmares. Just blackness.

He awoke to find her riding him. With groggy eyes, his hands found leverage on her thighs as he pounded up into her, knowing exactly where to hit to help her achieve the climax she sought.

She must've woken up from a nightmare, he thought. There were many times where he was pulled from his slumber to find her burying herself in his body, seeking comfort, desiring to forget even if it were only for a moment. And he allowed her to use him. To use his body, his cock, everything he could give her that would ease the torment inside. Anything that she needed, he willingly gave.

She threw her body forward and captured his lips open mouth as she moved with urgency over him. They're lips touching, but too focused on the pleasure to really move. He thrust into her harder, knowing that's how she liked it. His hands now cupped the curve of her ass as he aided her as she rode his thickness.

Faster and faster she moved, her climax building, tethering and coiling. With a desperate cry, she clutched onto him harder and she cried out her orgasm. Tingling and tightening running up and down her body like electricity, the pleasure would not relent. He slowed his strokes into her as she basked in the waves of her come down. She laid over him, relishing in the feel of his length moving in and out of her, her breathing now evening as she relaxed slack against him.

She allowed him to move her on her side, his thickened bicep pillowing her head, keeping her close so he could see her eyes. He lifted her leg with his other arm and languidly he continued his strokes unhurried, simply savoring in the tight feel of her wetness as he rolled his hips into her.

Her hands gently held his unmasked chin as she pulled him in for a featherlight, chaste kiss.

"I need you.." she spoke the words again against his chapped, abused lips, giving him the reassurance he didn't understand he needed, but still sought from her each night..

It was no surprise that she was gone. Every morning he woke alone but that was fine because mornings weren't as bad as the evenings. At least he could fill his day on missions and a plethora of other menial tasks.

But well into the night, he was never alone. She always appeared at the right moment where the images and the screams that tortured him would push him to his break. And through her those images and screams were replaced by her soft body and cries of pleasure.

Aside from the fleeting moments bliss she brought him, she gave him something he craved. As he looked into her desolate emerald orbs, seeing life flicker because of him gave him a sense of satisfaction and he couldn't explain. But he didn't care to know why. What mattered most was the contentedness they brought one another.

He willed himself out of bed feeling vacant as the shadow of emptiness returned. It was time for his endless routine to start again but his body was already reacting, awaiting, craving the night where he could drown himself, to forget and to feel again.

A/N: Please review.