Rated for safety, and because it's yaoi. I don't own shit. Hope you like it.

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Naruto's p.o.v.

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We withdraw into seperate corners of the kitchen. I lean against the refrigerator, you against the stove. Screams from the past half hour echo through the room. Broken plates and glasses, liquids strewn across the floor, leave evidence of the small battle that has passed between us. It is quiet except for our mixed heavy breathing, and we don't meet the other's eyes. My body is tense as I wonder if it's over or if there are going to be more blows, more angry words thrown.

I look up when I hear you move towards me. You are moving slowly, looking around the kitchen at the damage we've done in the fight. It is not the first fight, but it is a bad one.

You stop a few feet away from me and you sigh. I look up and we finally look at each other. I feel a tear slip from my eye and you run a hand through your dark, midnight hair.

And I know that it is indeed over.

You move towards me again and I meet you in the middle, falling into your arms. You kiss the top of my head.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Me too," I reply.

Your arms tighten around me and I wrap mine tighter around you in return.

"I'll remember next time, I promise I will. With work and all, I just get so stressed and forgetful. I'll quit tomorrow, if you want me to," you tell me.

"No, Sasuke. You don't have to do that. I've overreacted. I don't want you to make sacrifices just for my benefit," I argue. It's just a tiny anniversary that you've forgotten, anyway. Not a big deal now that I am calm. You shake your head.

"I hate my job anyway. And you should know by now that I would sacrifice everything and anything for you, Naruto."

I sigh, because I know that you won't listen. I also know that what you say is true.

"Okay," I say. I feel you nod your head and I pull away.

I lean up to kiss you and we share one of our gentle kisses that leads to a more passionate one. My arms fly up to your neck and yours lower to pick me up. I wrap my legs against your waist as we kiss our way into the bedroom.

You lay me down on the bed and pull your shirt off before leaning down and reconnecting our longing lips.

Soon the rest of our clothes are torn off and are left scattered in the floor. This is irrelevant and unimportant but something I notice, nonetheless.

You kiss my body all over and I return the favor. We make love. I writhe underneath you as you barrel swiftly but gracefully into my body. The sounds and smells that fill the room are of sex and passion. Moans reach our ears, sweat reaches our noses. And our eyes drink the other in like they always do, because we can never get our fix of the other.

We come almost simultaneously, synchronized after so much practice. And yet we never tire of the other; it is never the same experience when we fuck.

When we are totally spent, we collapse against each other hot, slippery, and tired.

We share a sloppy kiss. You pull out of me slowly and I sigh. I bury my face into your chest once more. We don't get under the covers; we have body heat for warmth.

"I love you," you whisper.

"I love you, too," I reply. I think absently of what I'll say tomorrow when we discuss you quitting your job. I think of the fact that you were already talking about quitting and that maybe this fight wasn't all bad because it would make you do something you wanted to, anyway. But I digress.

You kiss the top of my head once more and we fall asleep. Our limbs are helplessly entangled; we are melded together as if we could stay that way forever. As if we would never fight again.

But if we were never to fight again, we would never have mind blowing make-up sex again.

So sometimes, you have to pick a fight.

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The End.

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I don't know where that came from. But it's interesting, I guess. Review, please, and tell me what you thought.