love at first sight
theeflowerchild
douze
Sasuke wakes pleasantly. His eyes open slowly; he rolls his long legs, and toned arms. He yawns, stretching his jaw and shaking his bangs out of his eyes, shifting languidly in his nearly too-comfortable bed. The temperature is perfect, and the curtains allow just enough morning sunlight to cast pretty shadows on the hardwood floor.
"You're awake, finally," Sakura whispers, a coy smile on her face. She's turned toward him, fingers tangled in her thick sheet of pink hair, her long eyelashes tickling her rosy cheeks as she blinks. She shifts closer to him, drags her free hand along his bicep.
"Good morning," he whispers, and turns on his side to face her, propping his jaw in his hand. He presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. "How long have you been awake?" he asks.
She shrugs her bare shoulders; sheets dipping temptingly down her chest before she pulls them right back up. "Long enough," she says, following his eyes as they drag down her face, to her throat, her collarbones, to the hem of sheet. "What are you looking at, Sasuke-kun?" she asks, leaning toward him, exposing not nearly enough of her naked chest.
He swallows, and smiles. "You," he says, and dips his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet smell. He whispers against her skin, "Can you blame me? You're so beautiful."
She laughs softly, draping her hands in his knotted bedhead. "You're so silly," she tells him, and presses a kiss to his hair.
He sighs against her, peppering kisses on her bony shoulders that make her mewl too pleasantly. He wraps his arms around her, impossibly tight, dragging his tongue against her clavicle. "Sasuke-kun!" she squeals, and twists in his embrace. "Stop that!"
"Fine," he says, and pulls away, only to press his lips against hers. She responds immediately, and she tastes too perfect, her tongue prodding him, her little hands pulling his hair.
They stay like that for what feels to be not long enough when she shifts against him, pressing herself into his groin. He groans, and against his mouth, she laughs. "Good morning," she quips, feeling his erection twitch against her.
He pulls away, and fixes her with a glare that's not nearly serious enough to keep her laughter from ringing through the room. "Sakura," he warns, but she keeps laughing, so he flips her over onto her back, propping himself up over her.
"Oh, Sasuke-kun," she teases, licking her swollen lips. "You really are mad—" she begins, but he cuts her off with another bruising kiss.
The only things between them are her thin panties and his constricting boxers, and he can feel her puckered nipples against his chest. She moans decadently into his mouth, and it fuels him to grind into her again. The friction feels too good as he pushes her into the bed, feels her wetness through her panties.
"It's too early for this," she whines, pulling away from him, but before he can even be surprised he's on his back. She pushes his boxers down to his thighs, pushes her panties out of the way, and sinks down onto him.
Her pace is slow; he sits up, and wraps his arms around her waist, dips kisses into the crook of her neck. She makes love to him lazily under their sheets, takes her time with him. She feels too impossibly good, wrapped around him like a slick vice, whispering sweet words into his damp hair.
He presses kisses to her forehead, and nose. He kisses her eyelids, and cheeks, and the corners of her mouth. Before kissing her lips, he whispers, "I love you, Sakura," and he can feel her smile.
It's not too long before she's riding him faster, throwing her head back, moaning sweetly. It's too much for him; she's too much for him as he jerks up into her. He groans, he says, "I'm so close, Sakura."
"Not yet, Sasuke-kun," she says, shaking her head. "Not yet, please no."
He wraps his arms even tighter around her waist. "Sakura," he says, breath labored. He kisses her neck, and sucks on her pulse. "I'm close, Sakura, I'm close, I can't—"
Sasuke shoots up in his bed, alive and covered in a thick film of sweat. His hair is soaked, and so are his sheets.
Sticky, he peels his comforter off and frowns when he sees that his boxers are drenched with himself. "Fucking shit," he whispers, and pulls them off, too, throwing them onto the floor. He lies in his bed, naked and awake, staring at the curls and curves of the ceiling.
It takes him a little too long to catch his breath. It's too hot in his bedroom, but he doesn't have the strength to get up and open his window just yet. He's flushed and tired and his mind is racing and racing and not winning.
He looks to his left, and her spot is empty.
He doesn't have the will to frown. He sits up, grabs a towel from his closet to wrap around his waist, and draws his curtains. There is no sun.
After he's clean, he picks up his phone and dials a familiar number. When somebody greets him, he asks, "Can you meet me this afternoon?"
He sighs. "You brought Hana?"
Itachi places a brown paper bag on Sasuke's desk, and Hana in his brother's arms. Sasuke takes her graciously, but his scowl never relents. "We're a package deal."
"You weren't yesterday morning," he snaps, but his frown turns into a little smirk when Hana grabs his cheeks. "Well, haven't we gotten big?" he asks.
Hana grins in response, dark eyes lighting up like the night sky. "Sasuke oji-chan!" she squeals, and Sasuke presses a kiss to her cheek. "I miss you."
"Missed," he corrects.
"Not necessarily," Itachi quips, and takes a seat in the chair across from his brother's desk. Sasuke immediately scowls. "I brought your favorite."
"Chinese?" he asks, and begins opening the bag.
"Ramen." Sasuke's eyes narrow. "Kidding! Chicken lo mein. Do you have paper plates?"
Sasuke puts down Hana, who runs to her father. He fishes into his bottom drawer, and throws plates, forks, and napkins onto the desk.
Itachi frowns. "Somebody's been eating at his desk more than he should."
"You wanted paper plates," he says. "I gave you paper plates."
"Right." He takes the food out of the bag, passes a small plate of noodles to his daughter who plops on the floor. "No fingers, okay?" he tells her, and he knows she won't listen. He fills Sasuke's plate, and his own, and when he looks up, his brother's eyes are soft, watching his daughter make shapes with her lunch. Itachi smiles fondly. "Everything all right?" he asks.
Sasuke's eyes immediately turn dark, guarded. "What?"
"Nothing." He twirls his noodles on his fork and feels like a foreigner. "Shouldn't we be using chopsticks?"
He snorts, slurping up his noodles. "Whatever."
After they finish up their lunch in silence, save for a few squeals from Hana, Itachi says, "It's nice seeing you so soon after our last visit."
"Yeah," Sasuke says, but it seems like less of an agreement and more of an empty statement.
Itachi pauses for a second, waits for his brother to continue, but of course, he does not. So he asks, "Is there any reason in particular you wanted me to stop by?"
"No," he snaps. He takes Itachi's plate, and his own, and tosses them in the garbage. "Be careful, Hana," he warns. "We don't want ants."
"Ants!" she repeats.
"It's her new thing," Itachi explains. "She repeats everything we say. She's learning so fast."
Sasuke nods his head. "Is that so?"
"You'll see one day," Itachi says, and his brother frowns again, so naturally. The lines in his face are deep, and practiced. Sadness has become his expression of choice. "Do you ever smile anymore?"
He rolls his eyes. "Are you always this dramatic?"
"Most of the time," he agrees, and Sasuke smirks. "That's close."
He grunts.
"I bet," Itachi lifts his daughter off the ground, and she's already forgotten the plate of noodles she's played with more than ate, "Hana can make you smile. Can you make oji-chan smile, baby?"
She grins, toothless and genuine. "Oji-chan!"
"Oji-chan looks a little sad, doesn't he?" Hana agrees, frowning. "Can we make him laugh, Hana?"
Hana nods her head, and immediately spits raspberries at her uncle, waving her hands and laughing without control. When she's done, her father is wiping spit from her mouth and laughing along with her.
Sasuke snorts. "How's wiping slobber for a living?"
"I'd do anything for the love of my life," he says, and pushes a kiss to his daughters head.
He watches his brother's face flash from immediate surprise, to practiced apathy. "Does Konan know you've fallen in love with a new woman?"
"I can't help that it's my lot in life to be surrounded by gorgeous women," he says, and presses another kiss, and another kiss, and another kiss to his daughter's face, until she's giggling and drooling again.
That is when they are interrupted by a knock on the door. Itachi quiets, shushes his daughter. "Come in," Sasuke says.
He regrets his decision when Sakura opens the door, in baby blue scrubs and fresh keds. Her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, revealing a pretty face and a delicate neck. She looks exhausted. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Uchiha-senpai, but—oh!" she exclaims, when Hana begins reaching for her. "What a beauty she is!"
Itachi laughs. "Thank you," he says. "What do we say, Hana?"
"Thanky!" she tries, and they both laugh.
"Why, you're welcome, anything for a pretty girl like yourself—"
"Did you need something, Sakura?" he asks, and he's frowning once again, but his eyes still a different story: wide, and wet.
She freezes. "I'm sorry." She passes a folder to her superior. "Uzumaki-senpai wanted me to bring you this."
"What is it?" he asks, not bothering to open it, flinging it onto the table. A cruel move he makes to seem harsh to her, while he never has to look away.
"He said you'd know," she explains. "A man with a brain tumor that isn't cancerous?"
"Right, right," he says. "Is that all?"
Sakura lips turn down. "Yes. I'm sorry for interrupting—"
"It's fine." He sighs. "You can leave—"
"Why are you being so rude to this poor, innocent girl?" Itachi asks, fawning a sort of shock he doesn't truly have toward his brother's actions any longer. "Look at her! She looks petrified!"
"Oh no, it's fine, I swear!" she tries, but he continues on, insists.
"You should treat the nurses a little more kindly. Especially the young, pretty ones!" he argues, but it's kind more than suggestive. "Hana seems to like her."
"Hana," Sakura says. "What a pretty name."
"Would you like to hold her?" Itachi asks, Hana reaching for her.
"That won't be necessary," Sasuke tries, and he's waving a hand off at Sakura, but Itachi is already passing his daughter on.
Hana is beautiful, and the spitting image of her father: long, messy dark hair, dark eyes, and a narrow face as striking as a sliver of the moon in the dark sky. Her smile takes over a room, and her laugh is as infectious as a cold. When Sakura holds her, it's so natural, a baby at her hip and a coo from her lips. She tells Hana how beautiful she is, and Hana laughs and smiles and grips at her scrubs.
That could be them one day, he thinks. She could be holding their beautiful, dark haired, dark eyed baby, and that baby would be just as beautiful, and just as loved. That baby's laugh would be infectious if it were anything like it's mothers. That baby would be sweet, and kind, and smart, and adored, if it were anything like it's mother. He would be lucky, if his baby were anything like the mother-that-could-be in front of him.
Before he even realizes, Sasuke is staring. Itachi clears his throat, and thankfully Sakura is still mesmerized by the baby in her arms. "Hana seems to like you."
"Aren't I lucky?" She laughs. "You've got yourself one incredible girl. How old is she?"
"She'll be two in the spring," he says.
"A spring baby," she says. "How lovely. Well, as much as I'd love to stay here all day and hold her, I have to get back to work before the big boss gives me the big boot." She hands Hana back to her father, and waves with a frown on her face. "It was nice to meet you, Hana!"
"Sak!" she yells, and waves, and her smile is as infectious as the beautiful laugh beside it.
When Sakura disappears behind the door, Itachi says, "I see."
"What the f—what does that mean?" He catches his curse, watches for the baby not to notice, but makes his annoyance apparent on his face.
Itachi rolls his eyes. "Nothing."
Itachi can see it in Sasuke's eyes, because he knows his brother.
He clucks his tongue. "Are we done here?"
"You tell me," Itachi says. "This was your idea."
Sasuke pauses for a second, and sits up in his chair. He knots his fingers together before sighing. "Orochimaru contacted me."
"Orochimaru?" Itachi raises his eyebrows. "That big, hotshot doctor from the city? Lots of lawsuits?"
He nods his head. "That's the one."
"Why did he contact you?" he asks, trying to stay calm. Itachi is nothing if not overprotective and overly suspicious.
Sasuke shrugs his shoulders, but says, "A job offer."
"A job offer?" he asks. "In Oto?" he asks. "That far?" he asks. "What are you think—?"
Sasuke hushes him. "I don't know—"
"You don't know what—?"
"I don't know what I'm doing yet," he finishes, and this time he's the one rolling his eyes. "I'm not sure what I want to do."
"Sasuke, if this is about—" he stops. He looks at the door, and then back at his brother. "You know if anything is going on, you can't talk to me, right?"
Sasuke raises an eyebrow.
"And I'll never judge you," he continues.
Sasuke opens his mouth to respond, but doesn't. It takes him a moment to realize the implication before he's standing up, patting the invisible crumbs off of his lap. "I think it's time you go," he says.
"Sasuke, I—"
"It was nice to see you, and Hana," he says. "You're right, she has gotten big."
"Brother, I didn't mean—"
Sasuke lifts Hana off the floor, and places a kiss on her head before giving her to Itachi. "It was nice to see you, Hana."
"Oji-chan!" she yells, smiling again, but it's not as infectious this time between the three of them.
"Sasuke," Itachi says, harshly, a warning while he's halfway out the door. Sasuke stops, and waits to hear what his brother has to say. "It's okay to feel the way you feel."
"You don't know what you're talking about," he says.
"I saw you," he tells him. "I felt you."
Sasuke scoffs. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm your brother," he says. "And I love you. And I'll never judge you, I just want you to be happy."
"Goodbye, Itachi," he says, and before his brother can say anything more, he's shutting the door in his face and sliding to the floor with his back against the wall.
Sasuke picks the noodles off his once clean rug, and decides he'll wipe it up another day. He throws the plate into the garbage from his spot on the floor, and crosses his legs when he's done. He releases a breath he didn't know he was holding.
lol it's been like a year what's good