Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Naruto and it's affiliates, nor am I making any money off of this work!
A/N: Okay so this is more than a little angsty, and also more than a little explicit. Actually, this might be the porniest damn mess I've ever penned. Holy moly. Can be read as canon-compliant, if you can imagine the canon boys roasting each other's wives (just a little) and a lot more secretly troubled. But you have to understand, I love Hinata and Sakura too, check out my page, I have pro-Hinata and pro-Sakura works! They just tend to feature them as working women in satisfying careers with satisfying love interests... (Sakura as the head of hospital, her girlfriend, Ino, as the head of clinical psychology and trauma outreach, and Hinata as an advocate for increased equality and transparency within clans and government bureaucracies.)
I've actually been bouncing this idea around in my head for a long time, I'm really happy to be able to finally share it with you.
Also, this is very Bottom!Naruto story for all your bottom!Naruto needs (although I am a huge fan of top!Naruto too. If you'd like, check out my other piece 'Who's On Top?' for a funny, sweet take on the top/bottom wars, I'd appreciate it!)
But for now, please Enjoy this! Love ~K.M.
(What) Should Have Been (Mine)
It wasn't until he was standing directly behind Naruto; close enough to feel the ends of his blond hair tickle his nose and cheeks, that he was acknowledged. Raising an eyebrow in an uncharacteristically skeptic expression, the Seventh Hokage of Konoha spread his arms wide open, turning around to take in the sight of his 'dear old friend;' stalking him like some kind of predator ever since he had exited Gaara's office.
(The Kages had had a meeting about changing bird migration patterns affecting trade growth in lumber. Or something.
Naturally, Naruto had already forgotten.)
Being Hokage sure wasn't anything like what they sold it to be.
"Right! Let's get this over with," Naruto said, still-boyish voice a sad parody of the lively tone he had once used to greet the man before him with.
His stalker merely grunted under his breathe; immediately backing Naruto up against the door of his room, hand clutched in the stiff white fabric of his Hokage coat. It crumpled and creased under the pressure of his force (and Naruto could already imagine the face Hinata would make when she saw) as he pressed Naruto into the ornate oak door of the presidential suite Gaara had made for him to use during his visits.
The wood splintered and Naruto felt rough pieces prick up against his back; but he didn't flinch, he merely glanced down at the hand holding him with a blank look.
Was there any real need to crush him like this? Did the man before him think that he would escape at the slightest sign of his letting up?
Naruto sighed and encircled his hand around the arm holding him captive, squeezing tightly in warning because the hinges of the damn door were starting to bend out of shape and that would definitely alert the rest of his ANBU entourage, but letting go immediately. Because no matter how fleeting, Naruto would always feel a pang in his chest - seeing that pale hand covered by his own; and he couldn't afford that, so he ignored it and let go.
But there had been a time when he had held that hand tight in his own; kissed his way down each knuckle, every purple vein. After so many years chasing and dreaming about him, he had so desperately wanted to never let him go; to hold his hand forever, keep it warm and close to his chest.
And he had believed that he could, in that single-minded way that defined his youth.
His hand had been through so much and it showed. Naruto was so jealous because it wore the memories of his life; deep scars from poisoned knives that he had couldn't dodge, a patch of skin that had never grown back right after it was burned clean off from an improperly performed last-resort fireball technique during their fight against Haku...
Naruto's own skin was always smooth and even, completely at ends with his life. Through their teen years, Sakura had scowled at him because he had never even had a pimple; let alone a physical reminder on his body of a time that he had survived, fought... or loved...
Even now, he had one perfectly unblemished arm, and one prosthetic. (His skin would forever be unblemished, like this man had never even touched him, let alone ripped his heart to shreds.)
Naruto silently sighed and stared up at the ceiling; painted with some modern art work. He couldn't tell what the heck any of it was, and tried to imagine what Sai would say about it.
Until abruptly, he was shoved even harder, and then there was an audible creak; the sound of one of the hinges snapping clean out of place. Luckily, it wasn't that loud; the mechanism was well-oiled and maintained, and Naruto could also sense the other's familiar chakra permeating the air around them in a genjutsu; no doubt muffling the sounds inside the room from any prying external observers.
He suddenly felt a little like laughing, looking at that hand cruelly contorted into a violent fist; because some ridiculous fucking part of him still loved the heat from that hand, and the asshole of a man attached to it.
His touch, his very presence; it made Naruto experience some unnameable pressure behind him eyes; sadness? bemusement? existential dread? Whatever it was, he closed his eyes against it and imagined that he was somewhere else and away from it.
Imagined happier times spent rolling around in their bed. (Secretly, after the war, when everyone was too busy to follow them too carefully.)
When Naruto had loved sucking on the fingers of that pale, scarred hand; first taking care to dip his tongue into all its grooves, with special attention given to the sensitive burn scar, then hollowing his cheeks and sucking till he felt them press against the back of his throat. He would rub his tongue against the salty pads of his fingertips, moaning low and long until he was finally given what he wanted; thrusting fingers in and out of his mouth - but always so gentle, like Naruto would suddenly break now after all that they had been through.
But it had felt like his way of trying to cherish Naruto, and so it made his heart race. The deep look in his dark eyes, the feeling of his fingers speeding up just a little as he lost control, getting just a little rougher like he couldn't help himself when he saw him; it made Naruto so horny that he could do nothing but ache in anticipation for how those long fingers would pleasure him next, touch him next.
Naruto startled out of his thoughts, yet again, when he heard an abrupt, condescending scoff and cruel laughter. He sighed and wondered why he could never just do what he wanted and leave; at least that way he could zone out and think of something else, be no worse for the wear than a back ache... But he was the kind that always had to cause a damn, dramatic scene. Wordlessly, Naruto looked up to see his dark eyes examining the door behind him.
Its surface was engraved with intricate designs and painstakingly preserved in freshly varnished shiny glaze; beautiful and elegant, certainly nothing to scoff and laugh at.
Naruto didn't understand the interest, and rolled his eyes.
However, the man who kept glaring and glaring and glaring at the door began to feel bile rise in the back of his throat; because he couldn't help but think about how if that fool, Gaara, had had his way - this door would have been especially re-varnished in eager anticipation of his beloved 'friend,' the 'Hokage's' esteemed visit.
Like Naruto was the sort of person who'd notice something like that.
That; or the fucking modern art on the ceilings.
Naruto didn't even know how to care about shit like that. What a damn joke.
He met Naruto's confused gaze, blue eyes as piercing and sparkling as they ever were, and felt his mouth sting with an acidic twinge; heavy and hot on his tongue like the burning gaze of every person who had eyes for - more like mooned over - the charming man before him; him and his damned blue eyes.
They didn't know anything about Naruto; didn't have the right to his love; though this moron would give it away freely all the same.
He released the white Hokage coat to grab hold of Naruto's jaw instead, yanking it down and open. Naruto hissed in pain at the rough treatment, but was soon silenced by the invasion of a tongue into his mouth, lips kissing and moving with bruising, punishing force. But eventually, Naruto kissed back; the familiarity of the way he moved against him was enough for him to focus on; fantasize about in a different context, even.
But suddenly, he tasted acrid bile; hot, and disgusting, and flooding into his mouth from his too-insistent tongue.
Naruto started to gag from the taste; wrenching his head to the side. He tried to vomit; but nothing came out of his mouth.
He watched Naruto impassively until he straightened back up. Only to reach out and grab him by his left shoulder; shoving his body face first into the mattress. Naruto, rolled over and breathed heavily, mouth still slick from the kisses, and his futile efforts in trying to get rid of his acidic taste.
He let the 'Hokage' lie there quietly for the next few minutes, not needing him to do anything. He ripped off the gaudy white coat - proclaiming leadership but covering deception - and was only slightly more gentle with his vest, pants and shirt. It took him some time with only one hand, and his mind soon began to flood with a faraway memory of Naruto eagerly undressing himself for him the first time that they had done this.
His hands had trembled just a little when he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his orange trousers, fly already undone, revealing a sliver of his (awful, not fucking charming at all, fish cake-printed) boxers. Naruto boxers on Naruto; it had been so ridiculously stupid, but he was so in love with him that it made him smile despite himself.
And he had sounded so sinful; moaning as he pushed the fabric down over his slim hips, breath hitching when his movements caused friction against the sensitive curve of his erection, already dampening his underwear with precum, biting down on the tempting flesh of his lower lip until he finally got them down around his knees.
He hadn't been able to just watch the show any longer; had dug his fingers into those stupidly patterned boxers and pulled them down to join his pants, salivating at the sight of Naruto's exposed cock, already flushed and hard, pressed against his belly with desire. It began twitching and leaking even more heavily as Naruto squirmed and panted under his gaze. His hand curled his hand around his length and stroked him, reverently.
Because he had never thought he would get to see Naruto like this; warm and wanting - wanting him. It had seemed ridiculous, because why would someone as good as Naruto want someone like him? He was loyal, kind, and forgiving; too forgiving and self-sacrificing to comprehend. Perhaps better suited to someone as perfect as Itachi rather than him.
He had believed that he didn't deserve Naruto - never would, no matter what he did - but he had eagerly touched him anyways, pressing kisses and sucking dark marks into the outstretched skin of his neck; his head thrown back in pleasure as he worked his hand over him, drinking in the sweet sounds of his ecstasy as Naruto came.
The taste of his skin lingering on his lips; with the audacity of tasting like home.
A/N: Wow! Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read this first chapter of my new story. Please stay tuned for more updates; I should be updating every Monday night (to alleviate those Monday blues) but I don't expect the story to go all that long. I have an idea of where I would like it to lead, and how I want to get there.
I appreciate your support so much, in views, favourites, and follows; though I would be especially honored to receive your thoughts about the material. Much love! ~ K.M.
