Summary: Sasuke's been having some very... well, dirty dreams about a certain pinkette. Of course, fate must tempt him with the very same girl but a few hours later... really, how can life be so cruel? So taunting? Even worse - why does life make it so hard to stop?

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: The plot belongs solely to Airwolf1414, some ideas came from the song Can't Stop by Maroon Five. Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. I gain nothing by writing this story, only the pure happiness of writing what I love.

Warning: I kinda went crazy with some of the sex - oh, and there's sex.

Note: Thanks OnyxDreamer for betaing! :D Love you!

Sakura's body flows towards me soft and airy like a moth to light. She's crawling on her hands and knees like an animal, nothing covering her body except the skin she was born in, her limbs accurate and sharp with their destination. Her hands press against my bare ankles, a pressure that should be there, a pressure to tell me she's real, that this all isn't just another one of those damn dreams, the pressure that lets me know what's about to happen will really happen... but it isn't there, God, it never is.

I guess that sums up this dream too quickly, I know how it will end, Sakura will try to kiss me, I'll wake up in a frozen sheen of sweat and Suigetsu, my roommate, will be asleep while I meditate the throb in my pants away. I should wake up; spare me the trouble of forcing back supposedly-dead emotions, but why do that when I can see her face just a bit longer?

She climbs from my ankles, flashing into place on my waist, a heat that should be there that isn't, never is. The only heat on my body separating into two blobs; one migrating south to my crotch, the other to my head, hot and slow moving like a lava lamp.

Her face is calm and cruel, 18 years old, strict, sexy and mature, devastated and disappointed by almost every male in her life. She lets it change, her face flashing back to her 12 year old self, young and happy, loving and full of expression, a book of a face that breaks into halves, a grin that grows too large, almost painful looking. Her eyes change with her face, slower, but changing all the same from narrow and distrusting to wide and innocent with a personality disorder.

Her face and eyes urge me to look down to her hips pressed open against my stomach, a ball of heat forming in my stomach at the sight that quickly flushes itself to my length. I feel my hips buck forward, hitting something soft and cool, not perfect, Hell, not even close to right, but it'll do for now, until I can see her for real, touch her for real, take her for real. The heat from my body stains the edges of my dream to a quick orange then back to normal as my hips buck again, harder now, gaining a small amount of raw friction.

Her chest changes from her 18 year old perfectness to her 12 year old flatness then back to the newer version, my dream unable to decide which one turns me on more. I guess if it's her it works.

A part of me wonders if that's pedophilic, liking her chest as flat as it was back when she was 12, quickly coming to some conclusion or another, but Hell if I remember it now.

Her 12 year old eyes close, her 18 year old lips snapping into a ramen-blowing position.

Hm, blowing, what if Sakura gave me a blow job?

Suddenly her body is back in a crawling position, her lips right above my member, long and hard and dying for her lips to touch, but tendrils of black ink smudge her out, wrapping around her body like one of Suigetsu's Hentais, all of her rapidly disappearing.

My hips thrust, orange heat-stain flooding the black, pulling it back.
This dream isn't allowed to end yet.

But the black overcomes, only for a second, a transition from that position to another, her face, her body under me, looking at me with that 12 year old surprise. Her chest heaves as if she were in a fight, her chest small and flat, yet at the same time so fucking perfect, how the hell can she do this to me so easily?

I feel myself thrusting into something soft and cold, damp with sweat. Not right, I know that much, she'd feel so much better - I know it. But this will do, will have to do.

Our bodies twist, a memory of a wrestling match all those years ago when Naruto and Kakashi were late and we practiced alone, our clothes hazily appearing as every single feature on her body turns into a 12 year old, my body doing the same.

Our arms reach out, her groans and grunts a high-pitched melody to my tenor mutterings. Her smell whips into my mind's nose, nothing but my actual sweat, a trickling hint of her old sweat smell, only a slight memory that's not entirely accurate. We stop. Her body is suddenly on top, and suddenly this is a perfect recollection of an old, old, old memory where Sakura won and started laughing in an almost evil way, only this version she leaned in with her eyes closed and her lips intent on mine.

The dream starts to fade again, but I won't let it, my hips thrusting again into that soft feeling, soaked with my sweat, my dream entirely orange and fading as I begin to wake up, my breathing too fast, too needing, but I don't want this to end. My hands lay on her hips, invisible ghost-like pressure on my fingertips as I wake up shuddering, her name an unconscious moan that escapes my lips before I can stop it.

A sudden flash of heat flushes through my body, and I notice my hips bucking against a pillow, only just now slowing down as I... "Aah!" I moan, the flash turning into a flood that stops all thoughts, white heat flashing in my eyes, "Sa-Sakura...!" I groan biting the pillow under my head, my body shaking at the feeling of... oh God... did I just ejaculate? My eyes open slowly, letting this... this—feeling? Emotion? Heat?—pass.

Only to see a wide-eyed Suigetsu staring right back at me.

Shit.

"I didn't know you liked anyone that much Sasuke." He sits up with a smirk, mildly disturbed, but most certainly amused. "Not to mention a chick named Sakura of all the things, such a dainty name - I thought you'd go for someone more... I don't know, powerful."

I bite my tongue from snapping out at him and shrug, "Just an old friend. Nothing much."

"Didn't sound like that. You said you loved her during that... escapade."

"I didn't mean it." I say, shrugging. "I just... I needed a stress release I suppose."

"I don't even want to know how you release your hormones then. What, would you like dominatrix or something?"

I wince and shudder, "No, not with -" I stop myself from saying her name. I can't show too much familiarity. "No."

He gives me this 'Oh hush child, I know all' look and sighs, saying, "Well I just figured since you mumbled something about bondage during the end..."

I feel my still-flushed cheeks trying to heat but I keep down the excess emotion and stand. "Whatever, why were you even listening to me? Gay pervert." I exit the room with very little left of my dignity, but enough to be able to scrounge up the rest of the lost pieces in a few hours.

My feet blindly lead me to an old thin-sheeted waterfall near our campsite - freezing cold water. Perfect.

I strip my clothes off looking intently at the pool under a newly rising sun, the barely rippled water radiating the orange-purple-red of the new dawn, flashes of pure white appearing on the rising crests. I'd enjoy it, but it's oddly dim compared to the image Sakura's face so firmly implanted in my mind.

God... I could NOT have had a dream like that... I've erased those emotions from my mind. They are just too... unneeded and distracting. I lower my feet into the freezing water; my mind barely paying attention to the feeling of the pulls and tugs at my nerves.

I step under the thin plate of water that falls on my head. My arms absently scratch at small wounds that begin to burn at the touch of something cleansing and patches of dried-on dirt.

Hm, I wonder why I've been having those dreams lately? They're usually all the same with her body pressing to mine then her leaning in to kiss, her body obviously initiating sex, but I wake up right then - never able to get past what I don't know. Does it mean something? Will I see her soon, maybe fight her? What if I end up having to hurt her, or kill her - will I take the chance? Some say that seeing someone in your dreams means they were thinking about you, is it possible that she's been thinking about me that much? Should I feel flattered or like I'm being stalked?

"Ugh..." I grunt softly, a hand running through my wet hair, shaking out a twig or two. "Maybe I'm just in love?"

My breath hitches, did I just say that? No, someone else did... I can't be in love, it's not possible. Especially not in... in... that with a damn teammate! Hell, an ex-teammate! No, it was just a slip of the tongue, the cold water, something...

-but I certainly do NOT have... emotions for that girl.

snitch-snap!

What the?

I turn to the noise somewhere off to my left, my eyes quickly pinpointing the snap, and the movement of leaves as someone flits through the trees.

Invaders.

I run to my clothes and slip them on, knowing full well that by the time I'm done he'll be long gone, but I walk to the area under the infiltrated tree tops and look around for life, quickly back-tracking his trail and finding the original tree and area from which he came, only to find... Oh no...

An orange and black clad ninja with an oddly serious look on his whiskered face, his blue gaze lingering deeply on the tree I stand under and his comrade, the pink-haired female of my best wet dream, Sakura Haruno.

Living.

Hell.

Seems my dream was just a prediction.

I don't dare approach; I know that if I do, Naruto will confront me about leaving and Sakura will probably be at least a little shocked, besides, they look so... exhausted. They must've fought that other guy, the one that I saw.

"Hn." I grunt softly, if it was a prediction, I'm not going to bother fulfilling it today. I'm sure I'll see them again soon. If I don't... well, I'll make sure we will.