Naruto sat by the grave, tears drenching his cheeks and slipping round his lips. His face was damp with sweat and tears, and he could taste the liquids; salty and gross. He gripped at his pants, his knuckles white from the tightness of the grasp, and it hurt but he didn't care. He just needed to hold on to something.
The touch came sudden, but his sorrow left him no room to react. Long, pale fingers pressed at the back of his neck, firm and cold against the burn of his skin. Naruto could barely make out a pair of black sandals, straddling strong bones, through his tears. Then he was pulled into Sasuke's embrace, his shaking shoulders crushed by Sasuke's strength. His body was enveloped by another, and he felt as if that was the only right thing in world. Sasuke's skin was calloused and imperfect, but it was vivid, and in all of Naruto's vulnerability and doubt, he knew it was there. So he didn't bother to look up at the Uchiha's face, didn't bother to search for more assurance: Sasuke's touch was more than enough and all Naruto would ever need to tell that this was real. That Naruto wasn't dreaming, or going mad - as so many had claimed him to be - that this was happening and it was certain.
At that moment, it didn't even matter. Naruto's palm just fit in the space of Sasuke's back, and he could recite every curve of it, every arch, even through the cloth. It was a time when Naruto had lost himself, and after so many years, Sasuke had found him.
He was bundled up and carried in muscular arms, but he didn't bother asking where he was to be taken. His sadness wouldn't have allowed him to if he'd tried.
Sasuke walked for a very long time, his pace slow and his steps never-ending, but he was taking care of Naruto. Naruto could sense it in the way he was held - carefully, protectively - and though the last time a word had been uttered between the two was almost a decade ago, their bond was still there; heavy, powerful, and ever-lasting. It was the only thing that Naruto was aware of as he sobbed into Sasuke's chest: the warmth that came along ironically with being pressed so closely and comfortingly to his companion's cold flesh.
He drifted off to sleep in that manner, his nose crushed into a six pack, indulged in a fading but familiar scent of someone dear to him, and Sasuke's presence was the only thing in the world that stopped him from submitting to the grief that shook him.
He woke up alone in his own bed. He didn't need to search, already sensing what he would find - Sasuke was gone. His whole body felt weak, and it pained him to move, but sunlight was storming into his room and he forced himself to turn and follow the rays to their origin with his eyes. Looking at the sky, his first thought teased its way to his awareness, waking his conscience fully and making him smirk.
It seemed even death couldn't do them apart.