stripped/pared (right down to the bone)

rating: m+
genre: romance
pairings: kakasaku
POV: Sakura
other notes: prompt fill for "I've been buying the wrong underwear.", same age AU, smut
word count: 3,225

Sakura adjusts her mask once and then forces her hands back down to her sides.

She isn't nervous; she's a professional.

It's just discomforting to be joining a team outside of her usual roster. Teams weave rhythms, and there's no guarantee that Sakura will slot smoothly into what they've already built.

Plus, there's always the fact that some people don't think much of her due to a plethora of reasons that include everything from the colour of her hair to her specialization.

Admittedly, she usually disabuses them of any disregard pretty quickly, but Sakura is still getting really tired of having to prove her worth again and again.

You would think that there'd be a general level of respect going in—she had to pass the same tests as anyone else to wear an ANBU mask, after all—but even now, despite all of Tsunade-shishō's work and Itachi-senpai's reputation, there's a snide dismissal that mednins have yet to shake.

Sakura inhales and smoothes out her chakra.

Looking or feeling nervous is the worst mistake she could make.

ANBU can smell fear. They feed on it.

(Which Sakura knows especially; nothing is more fun than tormenting new interns at the hospital. Genin are so easy.)

Then she slips in through an upper window of the building that she's been instructed to meet her new team in, a sharp grin stretched across porcelain and green eyes shining out from shadows.

"Oh," she says when she walks into the room.

Or, well, when she flashsteps through the door with her fastest shunshin, narrowly missing the flock of senbon coming for her middle mass and neatly sidestepping the simple but vicious genjutsu laid out at her feet.

"It's you assholes."

Tenzō waves at her sheepishly in apology for his teammates.

Sakura rolls her eyes but waves back.

She's going to kill Naruto's dad.

Kushina-san will probably forgive her.

##

The Hokage sighs when they troop into his office.

It's only a little pitiful.

Behind her mask, Sakura smirks. Of the four of them, she's the only one not currently completely caked in mud.

He stares them all down in turn, ending with their esteemed taichō who is more concerned with bemoaning his ruined book than the disaster that is his team.

The Hokage sighs again, and then turns to face Sakura.

"Was it relevant to the events of the mission?" Namikaze Minato asks.

Sakura shrugs.

Not exactly.

"Then I don't want to know. You're all dismissed. Please go shower. Kakashi, I want the mission report by tomorrow, and it better both be in your own handwriting and longer than three sentences. Tenzō, don't let him convince you to forge anything for him."

In unison, the bow and file out quietly, but Sakura can practically taste poor Tenzō's blush behind his mask.

They're all too tired to push and shove as they make their way back to headquarters. They could all go home, of course, but the water pressure in the ANBU headquarters is some of the best in the village.

Also, Sakura doesn't want to pass by an opportunity to tease Tenzō.

She and Genma mock him gently about his ability to stare down a full platoon of Iwa nin without blinking, but gods forbid he refuse Kakashi something if he asks, as they all undress. Sakura heals bruises and cuts as they are bared, superficial things that could be safely left alone for the sake of conserving chakra for the journey home, but minor annoyances that are a matter of moments to heal now that they're safely ensconced in Konoha.

"Shit, Haruno, I thought you were a healer?"

Sakura looks down at the scar across her stomach that Genma is gesturing to.

"I took a poisoned sword to the stomach when I was fifteen. A tactical move but, in retrospect, not my best decision ever. Shishō refused to fix it for me, and since I didn't have the control, it stayed. It makes for a good reminder these days."

"A good reminder of what?"

She shrugs and doesn't answer despite the pestering that follows her as she waves to the boys and leaves them for the women's showers.

Later, hair heavy and dark with water dripping over her shoulder as she pulls on a shirt, Kakashi appears behind her, two fingers pressed to the matching scar on her back. "That you survived."

His breath is warm on the back of her neck and his fingers burn.

"What?" Sakura breathes, more a gasp than a question.

"The scars, they're a reminder that you survived."

Sakura blinks over her shoulder at him, up and up and up.

His eye is dark and inscrutable and she feels pinned, like a butterfly to a wall or a kunai to a post.

"Um, yeah."

Kakakshi nods, and then he's gone.

As she walks home, Sakura's lower back aches with the phantom weight of a hand pressed there.

##

If her twelve year old self had known quite how much nudity being a skilled shinobi would result in, Sakura's not certain she would have ever agreed to take the chūnin exams.

It's sparring under the hot sun and peeling themselves out of drenched uniforms after too many days camped in the rain observing a target and shirts torn with blades and being up to her arms in blood as she tries to keep her teammate alive and pranks and seduction missions and falling asleep with your sandals still on but waking up in your pyjamas and so much time spent with these boys she once only knew in passing who are now her dear friends.

Sakura is a shinobi and her body is a tool. And yet, she lights up where Kakashi touches her, even if she doesn't know what he sees when he looks at her, the slash of his grin hidden under porcelain and his eye spinning as he watches her tear through enemies and obstacles like it's all a dance created just for her.

Once, she ends up with torn knuckles and too many injuries to heal amongst the four of them for her hands to make the cut.

Kakashi wraps them carefully with bandages and presses a brief, fierce kiss to each one.

And then when they're back in Konoha, the two of them get in a screaming match over being responsible in the field and they don't speak directly to each other for three weeks.

All is forgiven when Genma drags the whole team out to a spa for "team bonding", but Sakura still doesn't quite know where to put her feet where the ground won't crumble abruptly out from under her.

##

"And how is my favourite little student?"

Shisui rubs his cheek against hers in greeting and Sakura reluctantly pulls her kunai away from where it's pressed against his jugular.

"Oh," she says, "it's you."

He gasps dramatically and collapses into the seat next to her.

Across the table, Naruto and Sasuke roll their eyes in unison.

"And you two, I guess," Shisui adds dismissively. "But I saw you yesterday at dinner, so I don't really care."

Naruto and Sasuke exchange a meaningful glance and Sakura is halfway across the table trying to temporarily disable Naruto's vocal chords, but he manages to get most of the way through "Sakura has a crush!" before her chakra scalpels do their job.

"Sakura has a crush on her ANBU captain," Sasuke finishes, as Naruto's mouth opens and closes in outrage.

"Sasuke!" Sakura shouts, betrayed.

Sasuke shrugs, and dodges Naruto's increasingly dramatic arm gestures.

"Aw," Shisui coos, "my little student is all grown up."

He tries to smoosh her cheeks together.

Sakura tries to stab his hand with a chopstick.

Shisui desists, and instead half-collapses on the table, chin in his hands.

"We're very proud of our ickle Sakura-chan!" Sasuke deadpans. And then, even more impossibly dry, "Sakura and Kakashi, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S—"

Something black and dark passes over Shisui's face.

Sakura sighs dejectedly and buries her face in her hands, trying to decide if running now will save her.

"You're in love with Hatake Kakashi?!" Shisui shouts.

"Kill me now," Sakura demands.

"Yes," Sasuke answers.

Naruto pelts them all with napkins and gestures demandingly at his throat.

It's going to be a long lunch.

##

"Hey, Sakura-chan," a half-familiar voice drawls out.

An arm swings around her shoulders.

Sakura looks up from the medical charts in her hands to Uchiha Obito.

"No," she says, and walks away.

She only manages to shake him because she goes to Itachi's office to ask for a consult and ends up sulking at his desk pilfering from the candy stash in his bottom drawer and doing Itachi's paperwork in trade for using his office as a safe haven from busybody Uchiha clan members for the next several hours .

##

Sakura inhales sharply through her nose.

Oh, it is on.

She's going to ruin him.

"Kakashi," she says, sweet as sugar, laced with cyanide, "I'm going to need you to get my zipper for me."

The stunned silence that echoes out from that statement brings a smile to her face.

"Um… Sakura-senpai?" Tenzō sounds confused but not disapproving, bless his heart.

"I'm going to beat Genma's head in, but I don't want to ruin my dress," Sakura explains patiently.

It's an expensive dress and she's never going to find another quite like it. She's not ruining it for Genma's idiocy. But then, she also isn't going to let said idiocy pass by without avenging her honour.

"So, Kakashi is going to help me out of this dress, and then I'm going to demonstrate exactly what I learned while I studied under the Sannin. All three of them. And then I'm going to meet Ino for drinks and I won't even have to stop back at home to touch up my makeup."

Sakura wonders what her smile is doing to make the boys stare at her quite like that.

The power rushes heady in her veins: honeyed wine and late afternoon sunshine, thick enough to run your fingers through. They should know by now that she is not a creature to be dismissed.

"Kakashi," she says, "the zipper."

Kakashi approaches her on silent feet, wariness in every line of his body,

"Are you sure about this?" he murmurs in her ear as he comes to stand behind her.

Sakura absolutely doesn't shiver at the feel of his hands coming to rest for the briefest of moments on her hips.

"Have you ever known me to start a fight I couldn't finish?" She raises an eyebrow at him over her shoulder as she twists her hair up onto her head and out of his way.

"Well"—his fingers easily catch the zipper pull and he inches it down slowly, careful not to pull and tear the dress (it takes an age)—"there was that time at that shitty bar in Kumo."

"I was winning that."

"Is that what you call having a broken arm and two black eyes while you're near black-out drunk? All while fighting a guy three times your size?"

Sakura sniffs.

"I didn't want to humiliate him too badly."

"Mm," Kakashi hums, not quite in agreement.

The sound of it rumbles in her bones.

How long does it take to undo a zipper?

Finally, finally, the back of her dress gapes open and cool air rushes into the space between them. Kakashi stands back.

But not before letting a single finger draw a line up the length of her spine.

Sakura lets the dress slip down her body and steps out of it neatly, not letting the glittering fabric touch the ground.

"Hold this, won't you?" She hands the dress to Kakashi and he takes it, fumbling.

He's staring at anything that isn't Sakura's currently very black lace clad body.

She probably isn't wearing the best bra for a beat down.

Oh well, she'll make do.

Sakura stretches her hands up above her head and cricks her neck.

Behind her, Kakashi chokes.

She smirks.

Huh.

Later though, she has another man to bring to his knees first.

Sakura toes off her shoes and walks further into clearing at the centre of the training ground.

"C'mon, Sakura, you know I was just joking!" Genma has his hands in the air and he's starting to back away slowly.

If she lets him, Sakura knows he's going to bolt and her vengeance will have to be postponed until at least tomorrow afternoon.

Instead, she presses her heel into the ground and lets her chakra splinter the earth in a straight line between them, to open a small chasm right between Genma's feet.

And while he's trying to not stumble, she spins out a dainty little genjutsu and drops it somewhere useful, for later.

"Time to live up to that mouth of yours, Shiranui."

"Oh, baby, my mouth lives up to its reputation." Genma waggles his eyebrows, but his eyes don't dip away from her face.

While she appreciates his relative restraint, Sakura is still going to kick his ass.

"Alright then, sweetheart," Sakura croons, "let's hear you sing for me."

It's a lot of screaming after that.

Sakura doesn't even chip her nail polish.

When she's done, and Genma is a smoking wreck on the forest floor, Sakura skips back to Kakashi, takes her dress from his limp arm, and shimmies back into it.

The silver sequins shiver in the air, reflecting the light of the setting sun in a thousand colour and Sakura twists back and forth a few times, admiring the effect.

She loves this dress.

When she looks up from adjusting the fit of it and smoothing out the skirt, Kakashi is still staring at her, something shocked and soft that she doesn't know how to name in his eyes.

##

"Shit," Sakura says, still towelling her hair. "You aren't Ino."

She's standing at her front door in nothing but a pair of cotton boy shorts with cherries on the front and her rattiest bra.

"Not quite," Kakashi says. "Can I come in?"

His hands are in his pockets and he's wavering on her doorstep, his weight too far forward on his toes.

Sakura steps back, holding the door open for him.

His shoulder brushes along her as he passes by, and Sakura shivers.

"Do you need something?" Sakura asks.

She makes an effort to keep towelling her hair and to not cross her arms over her body.

It's nothing he hasn't seen before, it's just a body.

(Just flesh and blood and bone. Just a million nerve endings and her pulse skittering in her throat.)

"I'm—"

Kakashi pauses, runs his fingers through his hair.

When he looks up, looks at her, looks right through her, his pupils are blown wide enough for Sakura to fall into.

If she'd thought about sex with Kakashi—not that she has, of course, that would be ridiculous—but if she had…

She'd imagine that he'd be content to let her push him back on the bed, one hand on the middle of his chest until he was spread out before her like an offering. He'd keep his hands lightly on her hips as she took him in hand and let her sink slowly, slowly, slowly onto the length of his cock. He'd tense and hiss in a breath, but he wouldn't push, would let her take as long as she needed to get used to the almost painful stretch, until their hipbones were flush and she was panting with the need for more.

She'd imagine that he'd help her stay balanced as she fucked herself onto his cock, but no more. He'd look up at her with dark eyes and a clenched jaw, and let her slowly speed up, her thigh muscles screaming protest, until all they were was the smack of flesh echoing in the room and a tight coil of pleasure burning brighter every time Sakura let herself fall.

She'd imagine that when she was getting close—all high, breathy moans and yes! and please 'Kashi, just touch me touch me touch me—Kakashi would finally manage to pull one hand from where it was pressing bruises into her hip to thumb sloppy circles on her clit until she came undone. She'd fuck herself through it, until she couldn't stand it anymore, and she dropped onto his chest.

Only then, would she imagine Kakashi flipping them. Pining her hands above her head as he suckled bruises onto her throat and chest and breasts. He'd bite almost viciously at her nipples until she was moaning and writhing against him, asking for more. And then he'd hold her down and fuck her until the only thing she knew was his name.

If she were to imagine sex with Kakshi, that is. Which she doesn't, of course. That would be absurd.

They aren't like that, the two of them.

They're teammates and they're something like friends, but they aren't people who stand across from each other while Sakura is in nothing but underwear and devour each other with only their eyes.

"Fuck it," Kakashi breathes, "please don't punch me through a wall if I've read this the wrong way."

And then he's taking three steps, right up into her space, threading his fingers through her damp hair as the towel falls helplessly from her own.

And Sakura is reaching for him too, hands all over his shoulders, sneaking under the edge of his shirt to cling at his back.

And her legs are around his waist and her back is to a wall and Kakashi is kissing her and kissing her and kissing her, a crashing wave of teeth and tongue and lips and Sakura will drown happily in this abandon.

He's a lightning strike.

Sakura is more than happy to burn.

##

If she'd thought about it—sex with Kakashi—she'd have been right about the bruises on her throat and the way his name sounds when it's torn from her throat like the only word that matters.

##

"Ino is going to be pissed at you, by the way." Sakura's hair is a curtain around them, shielding them from the outside world.

Kakashi catches her hand and presses a quick kiss to the finger that was chasing circles on his chest. "Why's that?"

"Because her advice was to wear sexy underwear to get your attention. And, apparently, I've been buying the wrong underwear; you're into virginal cotton panties."

Kakashi snorts, and collapses into giggles.

Sakura has to lean down and drink the laughter from his mouth.

They spend long, lazy minutes consumed with one another before they settle back down into something softer.

Sakura is too tender still for anything more quite yet.

"It wasn't the cherries that did it for me," Kakashi says. "Don't you dare tell Ino that it was."

Sakura trails a finger down the scar bisecting his face. "Then what was it?"

Kakashi shrugs and smiles at her.

It's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

"Just… it was you."

Sakura stares at him for a long moment, mouth dropping into a soft 'o' of surprise and awe.

Then she crashes down on him, incapable of not kisses those perfect, terrible words from his lips.

It turns out, she isn't too tender after all.

AU details: sakura, naruto and sasuke were still on a genin team, under shisui. kakashi, obito and rin are a couple years older and were still taught by minato. tsunade has only recently retired from hokage-ship. itachi is a very zen mednin retired from active service, and he attends bitch-sessions with rin, sakura, and shizune where they all drink wine and complain about dumbass ninja who think they're hot shit and yet somehow manage to cut their fingers off playing with razor wire.

mikoto, yoshino, and minato are matchmaking busybodies who keep trying to get their kids and their kids' friends married, much to their spouses continued exasperation. they probably also have wine nights where they matchmake and, on the side, plan out their control over most of the great elemental nations.