Title: Hospitals

Pairing: SasuSaku

Rating: T (might be only K plus, I think)

Genre: Romance, drabble

Notes: Okay, my third Naruto fanfic and my first SasuSaku fic. I'm sorry if they're OOC, and if it's too rushed, but it was just a drabble I wrote after drawing a pic I felt needed a story to accomplish it. You can see the pic by going to by DevArt account through the link on my profile.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I'd rather not have any vicious flames for this. English isn't my first language, so there will be grammar mistakes and typos. Also, I'm still new to this fandom, concerning the writing (I've read enough to know this piece won't exactly be a hit though).

There might be a sequel of some kind, but I'm not sure. I've got one too many stories to update as it is.

Thank you for taking your time to read this rubbish!

Now on with the story :)


Hospitals

o-oOo-o

He stared at the woman sitting calmly by her desk, teacup lazily embraced by her small hand, and wondered what he'd done to have his freedom dropped by her feet (which were neatly tucked in a pair of high, sharp heels). Surely, life couldn't be this cruel?

"Discharge you?" she repeated, the surprised tone mocking. He gritted his teeth in frustration; the strain of making his way out of bed, through the hospital and into her office catching up on him faster than expected. Adrenaline could only take you that far when you're low on blood with broken ribs and sore, previously dislocated joints. But as the man was, he kept quiet and settled with a glare.

Of course, it wasn't due to not having anything sensible to say in a situation as idiotic as this. It's not like running across half the hospital only to demand the Head Nurse to discharge you the day after you had a near-death experience is a bad idea. It's only logical, when you're facing a week's long imprisonment in a white, disinfected, plain hospital's room. Well, that was what he was telling himself anyway. His body was starting to have second thoughts though, and the warm fumes coming up from the teacup the pink haired nurse caressed so softly looked very inviting (it made him think of a hot spring, a warm bed and clothes, and the soft breeze of summer coming in through the window).

"Uchiha Sasuke," the nurse called, her voice too calm in a situation like this. By now, he was sure she would be making him deaf by her lectures, or at least punching him through a wall or two.

"Just let me out of here, I am fine; I don't need to be here," he insisted, probably tempting fate but being too annoyed, tired and sore to care.

"Sasuke!" she exclaimed, finally showing her anger by standing and slamming her fists into the table (no more tea for you, miss) while raising her voice. He wondered for a second how the table was still in one piece, but the look on her face distracted him and silently told him to listen, or else there would be hell.

"You almost DIED last night! OF COURSE you fricking need to be here! You haven't been treated properly yet! Your condition may be stable, but the wounds you had took a tool on your body and you need to get proper rest and treatment!" she shouted, walking around her desk to come up to him and poke his chest painfully to get her point across. Wincing, Sasuke couldn't quite understand what the fuss was about. It's not like he hadn't been close to death before, or badly wounded for that matter. And each time, it was the same. He was starting to get a little tired of the constant routine, but from personal experience, he knew the worst was over soon and he would be rewarded. Give it a day or two, and he'll be in heaven.

"But Sakura," he said, voice calm as he grabbed her hands and leaned down to her ear, "you can give me proper treatment at home. Hospitals don't provide the rest I need, and you know it."

Sighing, she tried to ignore the sensations making her shiver as his lips brushed her skin lightly. She knew from past experience that he did heal awfully well if in a familiar environment, and that the hospital made him be on edge and do the very opposite of relax (not to mention the countless attempts at escaping). And she had discharged him and treated him at home before, but it had all ended the same (to which she blushed as she recalled his determination to prove he was perfectly 

healthy). The state in which he had been in yesterday was unlike anything she had seen him in for a while, and she had been so scared that she hadn't left his side even when her chakra was long gone (which wasn't really that uncommon). She had made a promise then, by his unconscious body, to care for his every wound and protect him from whatever she could; even if it meant defying his needs and wishes (and her own, of course; she was only human after all).

The tongue chasing her pulse begged to differ; with warm hands and an intruding knee to back it up (why did she have to wear a dress today?). Her legs had already given out underneath her, but he held her up with ease (apart from the pain shooting through his body at the effort, that is). As his mouth travelled downwards, skillfully unzipping her dress on his way, she realized he probably wouldn't give a damn about her promise no matter how pig-headed she was going to be about it (as if that was so hard to figure out from the beginning). She guessed taking him home, and full-filling the promise there, would be the fastest (if not the best) solution to make him get into bed and have the rest his body needed (which she knew all too well wasn't the rest he had been referring to).

Well, letting him hold her weight up while multitasking in order to get her clothes off the quickest way possible wasn't exactly holding her promise, she realized as her head cleared.

"Fine," she snapped, "just sit down and do not move. I'll discharge you, but you're going straight to bed once I've taken you home, got it?"

Already sinking into the chair reserved for visitors (not half-dead patients with too many suppressed hormones), he grinned.

"Of course," he mumbled in response, reaching out and pulling at the hem of her skirt; almost making her fall into his lap if it weren't for the door (which, thankfully, was in reach and provided as a good support).

"Not like that you jerk!" she hissed, blushing as she realized her chest was fully visible (thank god for bras) and her door had a see-through glass.

Poor Lee.

She made a mental note to visit his hospital room later to ask what it was he wanted, but right now, she had more pressing matters to deal with than a passed-out ninja whose eyebrows were a tad bit too big.

o-oOo-o


End Notes: Aaah, yes, randomness. I know full well the 'THIS SO WOULDN'T HAPPEN' reaction most of you probably got. Sorry if this was yet another badly written fic that wasted your time (there're quite a few out there, aren't there?), but I'd rather you kept the "pure insult" reviews to yourself. Criticism is welcome though, to further improve my writing. I appreciate the help :)

Thank you! :D