A/N: Hello! Wow, it's definitely been a while. I meant to write this for Naruto's birthday, but it ended up taking a few days longer than expected. This story is dedicated to, and thus heavily inspired by snow-124's pieces of a Winter/Summer au. Definitely worth checking out snow124-art (one of my favorite artists!) on tumblr and flickr! Cover image credits also go to Snow! Anyways, please enjoy this brief piece. I'm also very aware that I haven't updated The Sun in Your Eyes in a while. I've got a chapter waiting, but it's a little hard to find motivation to complete it since I'm not sure where I want to take the story just yet! Thanks for being patient(:

Little bit of background: It's the beginning of the earth and there are only two seasons: Winter and Summer. This story is meant to be a bit mythological.

A Thousand Summers More

He always arrives in color, all at once, in the waking blades of grass, in the round buds bursting into blooms, and in the heat washing the world in golden warmth. When he arrives, the world blushes in his wake, plush with pinks and reds and purples, fertile and and heavy with fruit. When he leaves, the world follows, birds flocking to his warmth, flowers turning their faces to watch until he is out of sight, falling like forgotten lovers to become nothing once more. When he is gone, the air stills and the world grieves in black and white.

Why must everything only sing for Summer?

Sasuke watches him come and go, the earth waking to greet him and sleeping to wait for him once more. He has watched him every year for a thousand years, has watched from the cave his family resides in when the earth is colored, as white turns to green turns to white once more.

"I want to meet him," Sasuke says one day, on the thousandth year, during the thousandth winter.

"Who?" asks his mother.

"The Summer," Sasuke says.

"You cannot," his father says. "There is only Summer and Winter, and if we meet, the sky will shatter."

"He's being dramatic," his brother says when their father isn't looking. "If you run north after the first green blade of grass wakes, you can meet him for a moment. And if you run south before the last flower wilts, you can hold on to him for two moments, maybe longer. The world would not mind if you are absent, but they would if he is."

Sasuke watches the snow for signs of waking grass. He does this every day for fifteen days. He taps at the snowflakes marking his cheeks and neck. Sometimes, he thinks they are melting, a sign that Summer is coming. Sometimes, he would ask his brother, who would look at him with a smile and tap his forehead, telling him that no, the snowflakes are still very much there. Sometimes, he feels he cannot bear another minute of stark white or jagged edges of sleeping branches, even if he has already watched for this for a thousand years. He pouts despite himself. Time likes to play jokes when she gets bored.

On the sixteenth day, he catches a sliver of green through the fading snow. He is so ecstatic that he bends down to touch it, to make sure it is real. The blade of grass shakes, then wilts away from him. He withdraws his hand, looks around. His mother and father are turned away from him, tending to snowy branches.

He runs north, as his brother had said, feeling the air grow thicker with each push of his bare feet against the snow, seeing grey give way to color. Then, at last, he is there, steps faltering, fingertips thrumming, facing Summer in all his blinding glory.

He has never looked Summer in the eyes before. He thought they would be golden as the soles of his feet, sharp as the vibrant shock of his hair.

Instead, they are blue, like lakes on clear days. They look almost soft, in the way petals of flowers do. Sasuke doesn't know, though. He has never been able to touch one.

"Hello," says Sasuke. He stands a little straighter. Summer is as tall as he is, but his golden wash of warmth extends far beyond him and it makes Sasuke feel so utterly small. "My name is Sasuke. I have always wanted to meet you."

Summer's face blooms with pleasure, his smile like a crescent moon, perhaps brighter still. He tilts his head, and the gold markings on his cheeks and neck flicker like tendrils of fire, as if the sun reached down one day and held his face in her hands and granted him a kiss. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, deep. Not at all what Sasuke thought he would sound like. Then again, he has never imagined what Summer would sound like.

"I know."

"What?"

"Your name. I've heard your brother call you before."

"Oh," Sasuke says. He tucks his chin to his chest to hide a smile. He didn't know Summer had ever noticed him before. The snowflakes on his cheeks melt a little, dripping down his neck.

"I'm Naruto," he says. "Nice to meet you."

Naruto extends a hand. Sasuke stares. He has never been allowed to touch anything that belonged to Summer before.

"Everything I touch, dies," Sasuke says.

"I will not," Naruto says.

The touch is shocking. Sasuke has never felt heat, has never known the warmth of another's skin. It makes his palm hurt and his fingers throb, but beyond it is a sense of brimming giddiness, like laughter building up inside him and threatening to burst. He lets go.

"I must be going," Naruto turns. Beyond him is a sea of white, behind him an ocean of color.

"What's it like?" Sasuke calls after him. "For all of earth to bloom for you?"

There is something sorrowful in the way Naruto smiles, lips curved against golden skin, eyes clear as new memories. "It is lonely."

From the cover of his cave, where unmelted snow meets lush grass, Sasuke watches Naruto lay amongst flowers turning their faces to peer at him, bending over to brush their petals against his skin. Sometimes, Naruto laughs as butterflies flap in faltering circles around him. Sometimes, he chases young rabbits around, their bodies round and clumsy. Sometimes, he is quiet. It is in these moments of silence that Sasuke sees the loneliness.

His hand is a fading pink from Naruto's touch. His brother had given him ice for it, but Sasuke had refused. It is the first time he has seen color on himself.

Naruto wears thin clothing, of oranges and greens, cropped before the elbows and after the knees. He has a golden scarf tied around his neck sometimes, around his waist other times. Sasuke wonders what Naruto's shirt feels like, what it feels like to wear so little and to let your skin be open to air. He has only ever felt cold before Naruto, has never minded it because he had never known warmth, has always clothed himself in thick furs of white and grey because it is all his parents had ever worn.

Naruto looks over at him often. He does it carefully, turning his face to Sasuke in the way flowers peek at him. Gentle, curious, perhaps shy. When he does, Sasuke waves with his pink hand, feeling the snowflakes on his face melt and fall down his back. Naruto's face would break with joy, golden whiskers curving, his hand flapping back at him so quickly it becomes a blur.

"Huh," his brother says when he sees this happen one day. "I think he likes you."

"Shut up."

Sasuke has seen a million sunrises, a thousand summers, but he has never seen anything like the way Naruto smiles at him, brighter than all those sunrises and summers combined.

When the flowers begin to wilt, Sasuke runs south. He follows the way the flowers turn, as if telling him, Summer is there, there.

At first, Sasuke does not call for him. He watches the way Naruto walks, each step steady, the world before him waking. He looks at his own bare feet, lifts them and sees the iced grass beneath. Behind him are imprints of snow where his steps had fallen.

"Must you go?" Sasuke calls.

Naruto turns to face him. For a moment he glances at the foot-shaped patches of snow and Sasuke feels self-conscious.

"Sorry," Sasuke says. He tries to block Naruto's view, but it's a futile effort. "I've killed them."

"No," Naruto smiles. "They're only sleeping. They must rest."

"Are you going to rest?" Sasuke asks.

"I cannot," says Naruto. "There are many of you, but only one of me. I must keep going."

"Oh."

"But I'll be back," Naruto says. "Like always."

"Have a good trip."

It is Sasuke who reaches out first, with his pink hand. Naruto takes it, and this time the warmth is not as shocking. It is soft and giddy, making him want to hiccup. He watches in barely concealed surprise as Naruto brings his hand up and presses his lips against his knuckle.

When Sasuke returns, he makes himself two pairs of black gloves with the fingers cut out so he would be able to carry out his work, but keep the red shape of Naruto's lips imprinted to his skin. He follows his path, putting flowers and trees and grass to sleep. Sometimes, he pauses to pull off his glove and admire the red skin on his knuckle. He is careful not to touch it to ice. Surely it would make the mark disappear.

Winter is longer when he is made to wait. He idles when his work is done, plucking at the ice hanging like frozen tears off black branches, sliding in circles on the frozen lake, listening to the pitter patter of his feet against solid water. He makes snowballs with a spin of his hand and throws them at his brother, laughing when they fall apart against his head, then running from retaliation.

He is asleep in the snow when he hears the lake break apart, a sharp crack that resounds through the still, white air. He sits up and pulls off his glove. The red mark is now a faint pink. His brother tells him that the grass has begun to waken. He runs.

He had forgotten how blue his eyes are. They are bright, translucent, livelier than ocean waves and warmer than a hundred suns.

"Hello, Naruto."

Naruto smiles at him like he knows every secret in the world and wouldn't mind sharing them all. He opens his arms and Sasuke walks into them for the first time, pressing the tip of his nose to a golden neck. Naruto shivers. "That's cold!"

The warmth envelops him in the way blizzards begin. Slowly, at first, then all at once. It is all encompassing, almost uncomfortable. Naruto is the first to pull away. His neck is wet.

He touches Sasuke's cheek. "I think your snowflakes are melting."

Sasuke slaps his hands to his face. Naruto laughs. For the first time, snowflakes melt a little more underneath his own touch.

"I brought you a gift," Naruto says as he unties a cloth sack from his waist. It sits solidly in the palm of his hand as he reaches in to pull out a wrinkled red fruit. Sasuke has only ever seen fruits from afar, hanging heavy on the branches of trees, shiny and full. "It's a sun-dried tomato."

Sasuke stares. He is afraid to hold it. He has never held anything with such vibrant color without it dying underneath his touch. "What does it do?"

Naruto laughs, his hands coming around his waist, head bending forward, shoulders shaking. "What?"

"What."

"You've never seen one before?"

"I have," Sasuke says. "But never up close. I cannot leave my cave when you arrive."

His tumbling eyes become quiet with understanding. "Here, open your mouth."

"Why?"

"It's a fruit, you eat it."

"I've never eaten anything before." He is Winter. He doesn't need sustenance to live. He had put things in his mouth as a child—as most children do—but the only things he could have ever come to touch were snow and ice and stones. They don't taste like anything.

"Well, okay, you just put it in your mouth and then you move your mouth like this—"

"I know how to chew."

"Oh, I just thought you said—nevermind, just open your mouth."

Sasuke does. He has never had anyone feed him before, and he closes his mouth a little too soon, his teeth brushing against Naruto's fingers, his lips washed with warmth. The tomato is warm, too, both smooth and rough against his tongue. He chews. It makes his cheeks tingle and his mouth rush to fill with saliva.

"Sweet, isn't it?" Naruto says. He pops a tomato into his own mouth, chewing, smiling. Bits of red peek out as he speaks. "Do you like it?"

Sasuke swallows, running his tongue over his teeth for any remnants of flavor. Yes, he likes tomatoes.

Sasuke spends the summer at the entrance of his cave, running his fingers over Naruto's cloth sack, popping sun-dried tomatoes into his mouth whenever his parents aren't looking. His family is tired anyway, and spends most of Summer sleeping. He sucks on his tomatoes as he watches Naruto prance around the meadows, trails of birds and butterflies following, splashes of lilies and poppies blooming in his steps.

Seven days in, as his family slumbers in the far end of the cave and as he is lying down to observe a newly bloomed iris, he catches Naruto watching him. It isn't the same bright-eyed glance he'd been getting before, accompanied with an excited wave. This time, Naruto looks thoughtful. He bites his lip and begins to walk closer. Sasuke almost chokes on the tomato he had just placed in his mouth. He remembers there are four left in the sack.

Naruto lies down on his stomach next to him, on the side with the grass and the flowers. The snow in Sasuke's cave thins a little underneath his golden heat. He holds the stem of the new iris between his thumb and index finger. "Touch it," he says. "I think it'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me."

Sasuke swallows the tomato. He reaches out a finger and runs it over a blue petal. The iris quivers, doesn't wilt. Sasuke lets out a sound between a gasp and a laugh. "It's soft."

The Summer is short because he is happy. When he runs out of tomatoes, Naruto brings him honeycomb to suck on, its sweetness coating his tongue like new snow over earth. When he runs out of that, Naruto brings him blueberries, strawberries, peaches, figs. They sit together, one in open grass and the other in a snow-filled cave, passing the fruits between them. Sasuke holds his fingers to Naruto's mouth because he has never known what it is like to have iced berries melt against his tongue.

The flowers begin to wilt as quickly as they bloomed. Sasuke runs south, following rows of geese soaring with their wings open, life wilting as he goes. This time, Naruto is waiting.

"I've killed all your flowers," Sasuke says.

Naruto shakes his head and lifts the bundle of sunflowers he had been holding. They are dried, but still full of color. "All my last flowers are for you."

Then in a moment he cannot understand, Sasuke reaches for him. He rests his hands against Naruto's cheeks, twines his fingers in his blinding hair, leans forward and presses their lips together. With Naruto, there are always feelings he has never felt before, tastes he has never learned of. It fills him with warmth from his center, emanating through his body like dancing rivers. Kissing Naruto, he imagines, must be like kissing the sun, the moon, and the sky all at once.

On his thousand and third year, Sasuke falls asleep as he waits for Naruto. It is an accident. He had run north before the first sight of waking grass, having counted the days and watched the fading pink of his skin. Then, he had laid down in the snow and simply closed his eyes.

He wakes with a start when a weight falls over his chest. Bubbling laughter, hoarse and familiar, fills his ears. Blue and gold fill his eyes.

"Hi," Naruto says. His body is warm against Sasuke's, still quivering with giggles. He nuzzles his face in Sasuke's fur collar. "I missed you."

"I know." Sasuke shoves him off so they lay side by side. Irises bloom in the patches of grass and snow around them.

Naruto touches his mouth to Sasuke's cheek, lips coming away wet.

"Stop melting my snowflakes," Sasuke says. It's embarrassing. He flicks his fingers so that bits of snowflakes spring from his hands to land on Naruto's face. They pool into little drops of water on his golden skin.

Naruto laughs, turning to look at him, his face sprinkled with wetness. He pushes their mouths together in a kiss rougher than the one they had shared once before, tasting of icy breezes and sun-kissed fruits.

"What is that?" Sasuke pulls away, scrunching his face. His mouth is suddenly tangy.

Naruto smiles like a bear with honey. His eyes flash. "Fermented berries. I brought some."

He pulls out a leather bag and opens it. The smell is sweet and thick. It makes his lungs ache. Sasuke cups his hand and scoops a handful out. Some of it turns to ice as he dips his head and slurps. "It's good."

They finish the bag before the sun sets, taking turns dipping their fingers into the thick liquid, relishing in the taste. Sasuke realizes that the more he eats, the giddier he becomes. His chest bubbles with fits of laughter, his body shaking as he grips onto Naruto's hands, white skin against gold. Naruto is tipping the last of the bag into his own mouth, muttering about something called wine.

Sasuke thinks it is unfair that Naruto gets to finish it. The fermented fruit or wine or whatever has made him brave, and he climbs on top of him, icy fingers pushing against golden collarbones, snowflakes dripping down his cheeks, tongue lapping over Naruto's berry-stained lips.

Naruto screeches with laughter. Sasuke feels warm arms come around him and suddenly he is spinning as they tumble through flowers and snow and all.

The world does not know what to do when Summer and Winter press against one another, oblivious to Time. On their fourth day together in the same year, the sky turns heavy. The snow has gone and the grass is green, but the flowers are still asleep. Blinding white breaks grey and clouds clash. Sasuke covers his ears. Even Naruto looks alarmed.

"My father said the sky would shatter," Sasuke says.

Water falls, the sun disappears. It is loud against the ground and the branches of trees. The sky flashes white, then cries in deep, rolling claps. Naruto holds a hand out, watching water pool in his palm.

"I have to go," Sasuke says. He runs, the falling water clinging to his skin and turning to ice. He thinks Naruto calls out to him. When he returns to the cave, the sky is quiet and dry once more.

"You disobeyed me," his father stands in the snowy darkness. "You have broken the sky and thrown the world off balance."

Sasuke bows his head. He has no words to say. Behind him, he cannot see how the earth glimmers underneath the sun like a jewel.

Summer arrives slower, but still like any other, the world greeting him with gifts of song and bloom and heavy fruit. Sasuke watches the sky from his seat in the cave, searching for cracks. He waves to Naruto, who is joyful once more, hopping from tree to bush to tree in a sea of color.

"There are more berries this year," says Naruto. He plops down just outside the cave, spreading his collection of fruit before him. "I think it may be from the falling water."

"But the sky was breaking," Sasuke says. He takes a blackberry, watching it ice over in his touch. He drops it against the ground and it bounces like a stone.

"Or maybe it wasn't," Naruto gestures at the sky. "It looks fine to me."

"Hn."

"The lakes are fuller, the flowers are bigger, the animals seem happier."

"My father says we have thrown the world off balance."

"Maybe it is a good thing," says Naruto. His cheeks are rosy with hope. "Maybe we need a new balance."

"How can you know?" Sasuke asks but does not wait for an answer. He feels ashamed. The world is breaking because he is Winter that wants to be with Summer. "I have broken the world because I want what I cannot have."

"Sasuke, look around. It is much better now—"

"No," Sasuke sets his jaw. He must remember his duties. "We cannot meet any longer."

Summer wears his emotions like a crown, face open as flowers in sunlight. Winter takes his emotions and buries them in ice, hidden from sight. Curiosity in Summer means new rivers and blushing blooms. In Winter, it means frozen lakes and empty stomachs.

Sasuke does not run to meet Summer that year. He watches him leave, turning to look at him, and waits for the flowers to begin wilting. Summer is slow to go. When the last bloom finally shrivels to black, he emerges from his cave and lets the snow fall. Winter has come like any other.

He stops wearing his gloves, letting his hands run through snow and against ice. His skin returns to white. He spends his season working, tending to patches of low snow and drawing snowflakes in the breeze. His father seems to appreciate the new effort he is putting in. When the lake breaks, he returns to his cave before the grass begins to stir.

Summer comes in dragging steps. Sasuke finds a new seat in the deeper end of the cave, where he knows Summer cannot see him. He slumbers sometimes, but spends most of it watching fruits drop, remembering their taste. He watches Summer lay in the grass, under the sun, turning his head to glance at the cave every so often. Sasuke pushes back against the snow. Summer calls for him. His blue eyes are darkened, his golden face slackened, too tired to hold smiles. Sasuke aches with a new feeling called sadness, but each time he does, he reminds himself of the breaking sky.

On his thousand and eleventh year, there are no flowers when Summer arrives. The flights of bumblebees are long and winded. The grass is green, but each blade sits as though exhausted, curved to the ground. Summer stands facing the cave as he does each year, eyes searching the one dark place he cannot light, then turns and lies down in the grass once more.

"You must go to him as he leaves," his brother says. "There will be no more Summer if this continues."

"Father says the sky will shatter and the world will be thrown off balance," Sasuke says. "I have already broken it once. I will not do it again."

"You are foolish," his brother says. He taps his fingers against Sasuke's forehead with a burst of snow. "It is already out of balance. Without his joy, the world will only ever sleep."

There are no flowers to watch this year. Sasuke spends most of it with his face turned to the sun, wondering if it is as hot as the palms of Summer's hands. He runs the moment he sees Summer take his leave. It has become easier to catch up, he realizes. Summer is slower in his steps.

"I was wrong," Sasuke calls. "Naruto, I was wrong."

Naruto turns to him, eyes wide in disbelief, mouth the shape of the moon. The shock lasts only for a moment before he runs, face crumpling like withered flowers, and throws himself into Sasuke. The heat is breathtaking. It fills him with a feeling both familiar and new, one that builds up inside him, brimming and spilling. His eyes burn and fill with water, his cheeks wet with melting snowflakes. He has never cried before.

"Sasuke," Naruto says his name like he has been drowning for years and is just learning to breathe. He pulls away and holds his hands against wet cheeks, laughing in relief. "I want to kiss you and kill you all at once."

So Sasuke kisses him, because he'd rather not be killed and because he cannot die, pressing their mouths together and drinking him like wine. The heat burns his lips, makes his tongue numb. He is somehow sad and happy at the same time, his insides dancing and fluttering like burning snowflakes. Naruto smells of sun and grass, tastes of nothing but warmth.

They sit together, shoulders pressed against one another, hands intertwined like locked branches of trees, watching the sun rise and fall with their breaths. Sometimes, Naruto will rest his head on Sasuke's shoulder as if he has been doing this every day for a thousand and eleven years. At night, Naruto traces shapes in the stars above them.

"Look, a rabbit!" Naruto says. "If you turn your head like this."

Sasuke does. "It's not a rabbit, it's a blackbird."

"You're turning your head the wrong way."

"No, you are."

"I'm the one who saw it first!"

"Hn."

When the sun emerges on their sixth day together and after he has checked for the thirteenth time that the sky has not shattered, Sasuke removes his coat and holds his arm to the air, watching in wonder as the breeze flows around him. Naruto runs his fingers along his open skin, leaving trails of tingling heat. Sasuke shivers as if he is cold.

Around them, the leaves on the trees turn from green to red and fall to the earth in a lazy ballet. Sasuke realizes this is the first time he has ever stood in a world of color.

"See, I told you," Naruto says. He nudges his shoulder and nods at the blushing trees. "They're just falling asleep."

Sasuke collects the leaves in his bare hands, joyous that they are not wilting or turning to ice. He lies on Naruto's chest, holding each leaf to his eyes to see what red and orange and yellow look like next to clear blue. There is nothing like the blue of Naruto's eyes, he realizes. Not the lakes, the oceans, or the skies combined.

When Naruto leaves at last, Winter finally takes its place. In his absence, Sasuke hangs ice from the branches of trees, shaping snowflakes with a wave of his hand and filling the earth with snow. He waits as he does each year since he first met Naruto, counting the number of his breaths, for the first glimpse of waking grass. At new green, he runs.

Naruto spreads his arms wide at the first sight of Sasuke, calling his name, his mouth open with laughter. Sasuke spends three moons with Naruto, Winter pressed against Summer, watching the snow melt into wildflowers. The sky does not shatter. Instead, he learns, it becomes heavy with rain, rumbling and thick. Naruto shows him how to dance, to open his arms and spin underneath the rain, water turning to snowflakes against his skin. Sasuke kisses him, feeling him smile, feeling rain turn to ice turn to rain where their lips meet.

Each year, at the end of those three moons, Sasuke returns to his cave to watch Naruto from afar, plucking fruit from the ground and trees underneath a full sun. When he leaves, Sasuke follows and they spend another three moons together, the trees turning red, leaves spinning in the breeze. Sasuke traces his hands along golden skin, watching bumps rise in their wake, and runs his thumbs along his jaw. He loves the way Naruto shivers, shoulders rising, lips curled in mischief, tongue peeking out and stained with berry.

If warmth is a color, Sasuke thinks, it would be the color of Naruto's cheeks, golden and pink as peaches in the sun.

The End

If you enjoyed this story, please feel free to leave a review! They're really helpful and I'd love to hear your thoughts! (: