Hope
Um, yeah, this is kinda pointless, but I like it. Haven't got much else to say about it, other than it started out with a fixed intention and then ended up completely different. I have no control over my brain...
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Naruto. Then again, I don't have anything like the imagination for it, so maybe that's a good thing.
He runs across the rooftops. His pace is almost sedate, at least for him; he draws no attention to himself, and pays no mind to any of the other nin awake and on guard so late at night.
He reaches his destination. He's never actually been to Naruto's poky little flat before, but he's aware of its location for some reason he can't remember. Funny how that happens. He considers using the front door, but dismisses it in favour of the bedroom window - conveniently half open, letting the night air into the small, surprisingly empty room beyond. He slides the window wider cautiously, counting on silence, and then slips inside, sandaled feet tapping almost inaudibly on the floorboards. The bed is just there, and he looks at the sleeping boy's face - calm and bathed in moonlight, sadder than he had expected - apparently the happy mask he wears falls away at night.
He doesn't speak. There's no need. That wasn't what he came for. He smiles a small smile, lips curving gently - barely visible, really. It isn't like his usual smirks and sneers; quiet and maybe longing, with a hint of regret. There are so many unnameable things in this room, so many things that he wished for. If only he had been a different person, perhaps he could have had some of them. But Uchihas don't get wishes.
As an Uchiha, when he wishes to take that last step closer and maybe touch the sleeper's face, he knows that he must not. Getting what you want incites one to keep wanting, and the more you want, the more you loose sight of your goals.
So many things try to take his attention from that goal. Sometimes, it's a struggle not to forget everything and give in...
The window shuts with a soft thud, and he whirls, instantly on guard. But it's only Naruto. He realises that the one in the bed is a bunshin, at the same moment as he hears it vanishing with a muted pop. Sasuke wonders curiously when he got so stealthy. The real thing watches him curiously, crouched catlike on the sill. The expression on the tanned face - marked cheeks, again reminding him of an animal's whiskers - is undemanding, simply wondering what it is he's doing here. But no words break the silence, because both of them, on some level, recognise the fragility of the situation. There are no accusations as yet, but if one of them speaks, there soon will be. And neither of them are really in the mood.
After a while, obviously sensing that he will get no verbal answer to the unasked question, Naruto hops down and sits on the end of his bed. He cocks his head on one side, once again questioning, but this time the meaning is clear: sit beside me?
Sasuke wavers indecisively for the smallest moment, and then obeys. The mattress sinks a little as he shifts and then settles comfortably. Neither moves for a few minutes, watching each other as they grow accustomed to one another's company. The hush feels natural. There is a faint feeling of expectancy, as though they are waiting for something, but neither can pinpoint exactly what.
It's hard to tell who moves first; they lean closer awkwardly, uncertain and wary, yet nervously eager. It happens a little hesitantly, neither of them quite sure what they're doing; two pairs of soft lips, one warm, one cooler from the night air, brushing together. They half know what they want, although neither has really done it before. Accidents don't count. After a moment, simple touching is no longer enough, and they shuffle closer, searching for more. Breaths mesh in soft sighs of mixed surprise and pleasure, and mouths open to share one another; a little shy, without much talent, but that doesn't matter. Fingers brush across bare arms, sending goose bumps running frenziedly across their skin. A tanned hand reaches up slowly and strokes against Sasuke's jaw tenderly.
And then they're sitting back, watching one another warily again, only now a little out of breath. Eyes glitter in the dark.
'Sasuke...' The way the word slithers out is husky and engrossing. It sends shivers up and down Sasuke's spine. He's never heard anyone speak like that, least of all to him. And it sounds... good.
'Naruto.' he breathes back, noticing the roughness of his own voice, a little hoarse for some reason.
And then they leave words behind again, because they were never really necessary right here, right now, in the dark and slightly stuffy warmth of Naruto's flat. Kisses take up their attention, and then escalate into something more. Once that is over, they stagger towards the shower, still locked together, lips and fingers and other limbs entwined, and do it again. Eventually they manage to get clean and dry, and return wordlessly to the bed.
They lie next to one another all night, legs tangled under the sheets. Sasuke notices how Naruto's warmth fills him up like summer distilled, poured into those languid, idle kisses that are placed on his cheek, his brow, the corner of his mouth, his eyelids, the tip of his nose... And he finds his breath catching in his throat, eyes stinging treacherously, because he never realised that it was possible to feel so good as a result of someone else. He remembers those old, lost days when he was small, when his mother's smile could make him feel just a tiny fraction of this emotion- But this is different, as well. Deeper and more adult, maybe, without the feeling of protected safety that a mother's arms can give. Instead, a feeling of lazy equality and comfortable acceptance. He knows that he and Naruto are strong, maybe the strongest, and only they can match up to one another. They don't need protection, because they can protect themselves, but if they ever did need it... They will always be there beside one another to make sure they're both still breathing at the end.
He listens to their heartbeats. He can hear them both, feel them both, his own inside his chest, and Naruto's resting against it. Naruto is almost asleep now, he realises. He's stopped his kisses, but still his head lies beside Sasuke's, a small, genuine smile on his slightly bruised lips. Sasuke watches as he breathes, each light gust of air fluttering the dark lock of Sasuke's hair beside his nose.
Sasuke's eyes close too, and they both drift into slumber. Somewhere in the far distance, the sun is just beginning to ascend, reaching out to brush the skyline with golden fingertips. But two boys are fast asleep, lost in each other for the moment, and the sun does her best not to disturb them. After all, once they wake, things will change. Even she cannot predict what may happen. One can only hope.
End