dedicated to: rhyrhy, romeaynce, &&veroxion. (I DONT DESERVE YOUR GUYS' LOVE DDDx)
prompt: fmylife(dot)com.
rating: M
story: drabble thirty-seven. sakura's pov.
FML o37: Today, I was in bed sick from pneumonia. I asked my boyfriend to nuke a can of soup for me. He said "in a sec, let me finish this game" and continued to play his XBOX360 for an hour. Starving, I crawled out to make soup. When I sat down to eat, he paused the game and asked "you didn't make me any?" FML

note: i decided to do one chapter: sakura's POV. 2nd chapter: sasuke's POV. 3rd chapter: third person. and so on and so forth. REPEAT until we REACH THE ENDDD.

summary: Today, I was bedridden from the flu. I asked my boyfriend to make me some soup. He said, "One sec, let me finish beating Naruto's ass in CoD," and continued to play. Starving, I decided to make it myself. When I ate, he paused and said, "You didn't make me any?" FML.

.o37.
by
SasuSaku Forever and Ever
(aka; ohh, &&xena/-x- XENAPHOBiiA -x-/Xenaphant)

Boyfriend Material

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So, I don't know what exactly happened, but it just happened. You know, nature runs its course and stuff. And so does life. They're on the little relay run at the track, in their short shorts and sports bra (well, at least Mother Nature is).

Yeah. I got the flu. (But not my period—that was a little while ago). I mean, it's not just a flu like, "Blah, I feel like crap, better go take a day off and lie down." It's more like, "Holy shit, are you okay? You're running a fever, and your face is red, and you're sweating, and throwing up all over my brand new carpet…" kind of flu. I'm that sick.

My boyfriend is supposed to be taking care of me right now, but obviously his girlfriend isn't the first priority on his mind. I mean, I know I'm up there somewhere, but apparently I'm not the number one thing, according to his actions. He's sitting there with his furry hood up, even though it's literally 80 degrees outside, and his dog Akamaru is sitting by him. Aka keeps barking because he's hungry, but my sweet darling Kiba won't get up to feed him, nor me. I'm starving right now, by the way.

May I ask why men are so obsessed with Call of Duty? I mean, seriously. It's just shooting games nonstop. Halo, CoD, everything else…blood and guts and gore. Seriously. Do guys like that stuff? Is it pleasing to watch someone's head blow up? It's making me even sicker than I should be, and I can't stand to look at it.

I'm not very brave, in fact. I hate watching horror movies and I freak out at the littlest sight of blood. Which is a problem, because when I have my period, I have to stick a tampon up there as soon as possible before I go into shock and faint.

Anyway, back to me.

My ears are ringing from Akamaru's nonstop barking, Kiba's "shut up! shut up!", and my groaning. I'm freakin' hungry (it's around noon and I haven't eaten breakfast. Well, I have, but I threw it all back up in my little vomit-bucket), and I swear, anything solid that I eat will just go up like…upchuck.

I need soup. Water won't do me any good. I don't want orange juice and I don't like tea. Yes, I'm stubborn, but I'm also feeling like I'm going to die. I'm under four down blankets, sweating and shivering at the same time, and my head hurts. I feel dizzy and I puked my Tylenol back up, too.

"Kiba," I moaned. I could tell he was turned on, because, well…I'm just that sexy. Anyway. "I want some soup."

He didn't listen to me. He bit his tongue and kept playing his game, muttering halfway, "One sec, sweetheart, I need to—damn it!—let me just finish…fuck! wait, I have to beat Naruto's ass in CoD—" he muttered more profanities and blocked the whole world off. I groaned. I was really, really hungry, and I couldn't get up to get some soup for myself.

What else was there to do?

So, I waited for a little while. Obviously, that was the wrong choice because he didn't get off his lazy ass ever. Seriously. I think my carpet has a Kiba butt-print on it, and forever will have one.

I reached for my phone on the dresser (WILLPOWER!) and pressed 2, my speed dial. I heard the phone ring twice before Sasuke's suave voice (smooth as melting chocolate, flowing like river water…) say, "Sakura?" Tch, he already knew it was me. We were like, best buddies. Of course, I was always the one to call him.

"Ughhh." I groaned into the phone (making sure that Kiba heard, but I know that he didn't) and rolled over onto my stomach. "I'm sick."

His voice became filled with worry. Oh, how I love my dear Sasuke-kun. He's so sweet. Sweeter than Kiba is right now! "Sakura? What's wrong? Are you not feeling well? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He kept badgering me with questions and honestly, I felt kind of flattered. At least somebody paid attention to me, even if we weren't dating. (But hey, friends rock, right?) It was also kind of scary. I mean, he did this all the time. It was almost near stalker-level. Nah, but I still loved my dear Saucycakes. In fact, I had a crush on him for a little while when I was younger. I dated Kiba to (try and) get over it. But Sasuke's still really, really hot.

"Flu," I mumbled. Inwardly, I was confused at myself. I could talk to myself perfectly like I normally do and act as if nothing's wrong, but when I actually do need to talk, it comes out all garbled, like "Fwoug."

"I'll be there in an hour," Sasuke said, ready to hang up the phone. I moaned. "No, no. Don't waste your time. Kiba," I stressed the word, glaring at the back of his coat, which he could have given to me (even though it smells like dog) "Is taking good care of me." Could he hear it? Maybe I wasn't loud enough. He was still in his box. Or more like cage.

"Shut up and stay still. Drink lots of fluids. Make sure he makes you something to eat."

"Yup."

At least Sasuke remembered.

I hung up the phone and sighed. "Kiba, darling, some soup now, please?"

"Yeah, babe, just give me a second—"

Screw this. I was hungry beyond belief and I was not going to wait any longer. Does he want me to die of starvation or something? What a jerk.

So I climbed out of bed (well, I really fell down, but let's just say that I rolled, did a James Bond flip, and stuck the landing), crawled towards the kitchen (with the gun in my hand in front of me…), and found a can of soup, opening it with the desired can opener (and I shoot my enemy—bang bang!). Mission accomplished.

To be honest, my accomplishment was so great that I can hear the Final Fantasy victory song in the background. Sakura, one. Flu, one. Tiebreak me now, bitch.

.

.

.

With a lot of effort, I finally got the soup into a bowl, heated. I was pretty surprised that it didn't fall on my arm and burn me, but hey, I'm a freakin' ninja. We ninjas have mad skills that all you MUGGLES are jealous of.

Ninja, wizard, what's the difference—they're both hot.

Anyway, I get the spoon, get my gun off the floor, and crawl back towards the hideout, making sure Osama Bin Laden doesn't catch me. (Because I know he's there. He's hiding and he's searching for me. He's not actually dead, because we have to beat each other in a tennis match first before I kill him. HE'S CLIMBIN' IN MY WINDOWS JUST LIKE PETER PAN).

When I get back, Kiba's looking at me weird. Akamaru finally stopped barking (he wore himself out to sleep), and Kiba just stares at my sick face, then at my boobs, and then my soup, and back to my boobs. (Which are also amazing. You hear the rumors that I'm flat? Well I'm not! I bind them back so they don't get in the way. Ino has got nothing on these).

"You didn't make me any soup?" was all he said. Heck, he even paused the game to say that. THE GAME. Which, by the way, both you and I lost, because thinking about the game or even saying it means that you automatically lose the game.

But still.

"Fuck you."

Sakura, one. Flu, two.

.

.

.

I was really, really, really pissed. You would be too. You beg your boyfriend to make you soup and then you decide to make it for yourself. Okay, yeah, sure. But then you come back, and he utters the forbidden words (I can't say it or else I'll lose), and then says, "You didn't make me any soup?" as if he were the most important person on the planet. Which he's not. According to statistics, it's probably now William and Kate, celebrating their after marriage in the sweet presence of British people with bad teeth, drinking Earl Grey tea.

With their pinky up, of course.

Kiba looks at me weird, as if nothing's wrong and he didn't know what the fuck he was doing. But he knows. The guilt will eat him up someday, and he'll regret being a jerk to me because I'm going to grow up and live in a big mansion, sipping apple wine and having somebody do my nails while fanning me with a palm leaf branch. And him? He's going to be living in a cardboard box next to me and, when he gets sick from the rain and catches the flu, I'm going to be the one playing games and watching him share a soup with Aka.

Then again, maybe I should get him a doghouse. After all, he's a bitch and so is Aka. Well, they're actually SOBs, but that's close enough. They're dogs. And…yeah, that's about it.

But his sister's a bitch.

Back to reality.

"I was going to make you some," he said. "After I was done." Pshh, I knew that he was lying. I'm a freakin' lie detector. I can tell when somebody is lying or not, because honestly, I'm that awesome.

No, I actually took a course in psychology, but let's just stick to the "Sakura is awesome and you know it" theory.

I gave him another look and slurped down my soup. Apparently, Akamaru smelled chicken noodle and woke up, attacking me (he was pretty big now. Back then, he was only a little tiny puppy, still peeing on my new clothes) and making the soup drip down my shirt, into my new bra (and I was wearing white that day…) and all over the carpet. He kept licking me (no, it's not sexy—it's just gross). It was terrible. I was covered in soup and dog saliva and I was still sick.

"Agh!" I yelled, trying to push Akamaru off. But boy, he sure was heavy.

Then, someone knocked the door. I was pretty sure it was Sasuke (although it had only been 57 minutes, not 60), but I couldn't tell. Maybe it was child services coming to save me? Or ghostbusters? After all, who you gonna call?

Yeah, it was Sasuke. He let himself in (because he knows where I hide my spare: under the rug. He he, I'm too short to reach the top of the door frame) and stared at the giant dog licking my boob area and Kiba who was licking his lips.

Sasuke furrowed his eyebrows. Then, he got mad.

"Get out," he said, pointing at Kiba. "Get out!"

Kiba rolled his eyes and pulled me up by the arm. He gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Whatever. See you later, sweetie. Get well." He re-leashed Akamaru and dragged him out the door, giving Sasuke a pat on the shoulder. "You better not fool around with her," he joked.

And you know what else I realized?

"Hey, Kiba?"

He turned around. "Hm?"

"We're over."

It should've hurt me and him, but it didn't. He shrugged, said, "Okay," and left. I didn't really care either, to be honest. But apparently, Sasuke did. In fact, I think he was getting the swiss army knife out of his pocket…

"Sasuke—put that away! No, don't do anything rash…"

"That son of a bitch."

I sighed and felt my head become dizzy again. I was hungry, and my head hurt.

I don't know if I've ever noticed this before, but when I'm woozy and my vision is like I took shrooms or something, Sasuke looks really, really, really hot. I mean, it's like—if he took off his shirt and his pants and was with me in my bed, sharing body heat, I would literally explode.

Sasuke helped me up onto the bed. My clothes were wet and he was blushing, looking away from me. I realized that my bra was showing through my white shirt. Oh me oh my.

"I'll make you some more soup."

Would it be a bad time to say that his boner was up against my knee? Or maybe that was just a cucumber. I don't know.

.

.

.

I was being spooned. No, seriously, I mean, Sasuke was feeding me soup with a spoon. What did you think I meant?

Oh you dirty little bastard.

"Say 'ah,'" he muttered, like a professional doctor would do. Hm, would he grow up to go in the medical career? I was still thinking porn star, but doctors are hot, too.

"Ahh!"

I gave him a big smile as he sighed, wiping soup off the corners of my mouth. "You're so messy," he muttered, looking at my piles of clothes and how dirty everything was.

I stuck my tongue out at him and opened my mouth again.

He continued to feed me my soup, and helped me take my medicine. Then, he held me by the wrist and said, "Can you change out of those clothes? You'll get sick."

He was blushing again. And the cucumber came back. Or did he steal a banana from my kitchen? I don't know. I mean, if he wanted some fruit he could've just taken it. He didn't have to be so awkward about it.

"I, uh…need your help." It wasn't that awkward, actually. I mean, we've been best friends forever since diapers and have seen each other half-naked a lot. Well, I've seen him half-naked a lot. Him to me? Not so much, but still a couple of times.

Sasuke turned bright red and muttered under his breath. Then, he carried me to the bathroom and I made myself comfortable on top of the sink.

.

.

.

"Lift up your arms," he said, refusing to look at me. Was it that embarrassing for him? If it was, I just wanted to have him continue just because his expression was hilarious. He then grabbed the ends of my shirt and rolled them up, watching my bra uncover. He was so embarrassed that he cursed and turned away. I frowned, and used my willpower (WILLPOWER TIMES TWO!) again to lift it up. Obviously, he was looking pretty sick, since he was on the edge of the bathtub with his head in his hands, shaking them. The banana was back.

"Slacker," I muttered. I took of my shorts so that I was in my bra and panties. He looked up, gulped, turned even redder, and looked back down into his hands again. I frowned.

"Sasuke-kunnn. I need your help."

"I—I can't." It was so funny seeing him like it. I know, I was being a bitch, but I'd give anything to see it every day. Cool, calm, and collected Sasuke ain't so awesome anymore.

Then, he comes up to me and puts his hands on either side of me, staring straight into my eyes. They're cloudy and kind of grayish and full of…desire, something that I've never seen before. His blush is back but it's not as bright. Just a small tint of pink, the shade of my hair.

"Sakura…"

He has that deep, husky voice again. Aa, I can feel my panties becoming wet. Yeah, that's gross, but it's just that erotic.

"Would you believe me if I said that I wanted you?" Wow, so much for being a lie detector. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not.

Oh, I should probably mention that today was April Fool's day. So now, I was really confused. Plus, the flu thing didn't help, either.

Sakura, one. Flu, three.

.

.

.

"Uhm, Sasuke-kun…what are you doing?" I asked as I turned my head away from him. Now I was the one blushing (which wasn't supposed to be that way, because I was supposed to be in charge of the make-fun-of-Sasuke club).

I groaned out in half pain, half pleasure as his lips met the really sensitive part of my neck that Kiba used to nip at. Only now, it was much more pleasing and not as dog-drooly.

"Mm." His tongue was licking the soft part of my skin and for some reason, I was grabbing his hair. Like, my hands were little entangled in his gorgeous, raven locks.

It's mean to take advantage of a woman when she's drunk or sick as crap, but whatever. I mean, I actually really like Sasuke. And I still had some sense in me. I wanted this. I wanted him.

Fuck, I would actually die without him.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked as he pulled apart. Apparently, my moans sound like groaning pain, so he got the wrong idea. But it's not. I like it so, so much.

"Kiss me," I begged. I brought his forehead to mine and, while I was half-naked on the sink, my legs around his waist while he held my hips with his large, strong hands, we kissed. It was so much better than Kiba's kisses, all wet and smelling like dog-food.

"Aa—" I gasped as he pushed away my cup and felt my nipple in between his fingers. Such a simple touch could send so much pleasure all over my body…

"You like it?" he smirked, kissing my collarbone. Man, he was a naughty, naughty boy. Mwah-mwah. His lips, however, were heaven.

"I…do," I said, grabbing onto him tighter. "I want more of it." I helped lead his hands to the back of my bra and unclasp it, letting my breasts spill out for his entertainment.

He stood there, awestruck for a second. Was I too quick? I don't know. Things are funny when you're really hazy. So I grabbed his hands and put them over my breasts. "Touch me."

I don't know if it was sweat or chicken soup that was covering my body with stickiness, but he used his tongue and licked me from the torso up anyway. He was nothing like Kiba—just ten times better. He was sweet, slow, and sexy…I realized how much I actually loved him, despite me being with Kiba.

"I need you," I begged as I felt tears nearly pouring out of my eyes. "Please…"

He heard the desperateness in my voice and held me tight, cupping my face and staring into my eyes. "I'm not going any further right now. It's been a tough day and you've been through so much. We'll stop here, alright?"

I could tell that he was holding himself back, because my bananas were bulging in his pants again. I frowned, but buried my face in his hair, inhaling his sweet cologne scent.

"Fine," I muttered, pressing my bare chest onto his shirt. "But later, you promise?"

"I promise."

Then, I pulled back, only to have him tuck my hair behind my ear and kiss me again. "Sit there—let me get a towel to wipe you dry."

He wrapped it around me and had his arms around my body, whispering sweet, dirty things in my ear as he cleaned me.

"Get dressed. You need your sleep." He led me out of the bathroom, and I could see the stains where the chicken soup was and where Kiba's forever butt-print laid. The towel was still around me. He took it off and helped me put on my shorts and my T-shirt.

"Hey, Sasuke?"

"Hn?"

I yawned and fell back onto the bed. "Could you lie with me here for a little bit?"

I saw that he was reluctant because his banana was aching to be eaten, but he said, "Sure." Then, he got into bed with me and held me tight, making sure the blankets were over the both of us neatly. I snuggled into his chest and tried to make sure I wouldn't get him sick.

"Could you imagine what it would be like for you to be my boyfriend?"

"I'm sure I'd like it very much."

My senses were still impaired, but I could get the vibe that he wanted to be with me, too. Sakura the lie detector was back on track—and warm. I told you, body heat is WINNING.

Quote on quote: Charlie Sheen. WINNING!

"I loveeeeee you," I said, my speech garbled. "Forever and ever and everrrrrrrr."

He stroked my hair. "Love you, too."

Sakura, 1,000,000,000. Flu, 3.

He definitely is the right kind of boyfriend material.

i know i havent updated in forever. im sorry, im sorry, im sorry. i've had a lto on my plate adn something really terrible happened to me while i was in a school trip at washington dc. soem pakistani guy came up to me and asked to take a picture with me, asked form y email and address and name and said "oh, pakistan adn china are god friends. let's visit each other" and everything...i was freaked out. he was CREEPY.

and i've been busy studying for finals and stuff. but i PROMISE i will udpate sooner. or else you can punch me in the face. okay?

love you all.