he knows morning sex is great. it allows the sunlight to hit her creamy skin against his dark sheets and her green to have flecks of yellow in them, making him recite all the poems he knows by heart inside his head, and he's certain that he falls deeper in love whenever she smiles up at him as he tenderly thrusts inside her.

also, there are those late-night fucks that are equally romantic in a different way; albeit more primal. the moonlight from her apartment window paints her in his aesthetic, creating an image of an ethereal goddess that brings his nightmares onto its knees, and he feels like he's high on his love for her as he rails her fast and hard on her mattress.

but to sasuke, nothing beats making love to sakura in the afternoon glow.

it's 2:39 pm. the wind howls outside their cabin and the dew from the melting snow decorates the window pane. the last chill of winter before the coming of spring blows, but there is warmth inside her that sasuke longs to stay wrapped around in.

forever.

in the nights when they do this, it comes from deep within his guttural need to be closer after a long day of work or a romantic date night; to let her know he will be dreaming of her and their future together as he falls asleep next to her.

during the mornings, it's to prove that he did dream of her in a kaleidoscope of colors he never knew existed until he met her; to give her, and perhaps himself as well, the courage to go through another day together.

but every rare afternoons they get, just like right now as we speak, is a different language altogether.

this is not an unwilling goodnight fueled by a weekend night out where his body burns from lust and love and his desire to bury himself in her. this is not a loving good morning rooted from his desperate hope to keep seeing her beautiful sleeping face at the break of dawn when he wakes up.

this— tangled limbs in crumpled sheets, stuttering breaths against awaiting lips, gentle eye meetings of glittering jades and shining onyxes— is a conversation.

every swipe of her tongue in his mouth answers his inquiry of what did you have for lunch earlier?

every nip of her teeth asks the question did you eat on time today, sasuke-kun?

every suck he does between her thighs replies to her with let me tell you that eating you alone is enough to make me feel full.

every slap of skin against skin echoing within their hut makes her moan that sounds like sasuke-kun, harder... faster... deeper..;

and every soft press of his lips on hers promises anything for you, sakura. everything for you.

and when she falls apart before his very eyes, he knows her silent scream of pleasure means i love you, sasuke-kun; and his response by painting her insides white means i love you too, sakura.

but at the end of the day, no matter what time it is, sasuke knows this is the only way he wants to spend the rest of his life doing— making love to her, and making love with her.

for now, sasuke keeps himself warm within the cradle of her hips, and he can't ask for anything better.

a/n: istg im writing a full-blown smut ok?! let me practice with this first lmao