Disclaimer: Nope, I do not own the characters of Naruto, just like I don't own the characters of Gravitation, Kingdom Hearts, Mars or any other fandom I write for.
A.N. Sasuke POV.
I swear. Every day, it's the same endless sonata.
I dance to the same chords, performing to the same rhythm. Whether it's sword in my hand or hand under the covers, it's all to meet the same end anyways.
Slashing and stabbing or stroking and pulling, it's all for the same result.
So here I am, dancing the same endless moves. Day by day. Train. Masturbate. Sleep.
Eating fits in between there some where.
But, I've locked my feet, set my pace. And I'll keep pursuing my goal. Even now, hands under the covers, one clamped tightly over my heated lips, muffling the shameful cries that erupt from them, I won't yield.
Day in and day out. It's the same. The same boring sonata. The training, pills, jutsus and crappy food. The same disobeying disobedience. The same antsyness. same dull ache between my legs, the same mundane fantasies.
I began to move through the waking world have asleep, acting out pre-choreographed moved on command. Duck, dodge, slice, run, summon. Tug, pull, stroak, squeeze, cum.
Until…
That happened.
That brief interlude. That brief interruption in my endless sonata. That…
Now, I see her. Now, when I close my eyes and reach between my legs, when I clamp my mouth shut, arch my back. Now when I touch myself, I think of her.
I imagine it's her feather light touch sliding across me. Her pale, soft skin squeezing my member so hard yet so good my toes curl up the bed sheets and I bite my lip so hard I tear through skin.
Sometimes, if it's quiet enough and the sonata has softened, I can imagine my hands are her. That it's her flesh convulsing around me, not my own calloused skin. Her trembling touches, teeth and tongue at my nipples.
Or even better, I can imagine my hand is her mouth, and that she's sucking me hungrily into that pink orifice. Her hands gripping my hips and pulling my length deeper into her throat and oh Gods I'm going to cum.
My eyes roll up and my back arches so much I fear it'll break. In my foolishness, in the forgetfulness of orgasm, I let my hand fall from my lips, and a cry resounds through my room, and probably down the hall.
"Shit." I mutter, rushing to clean the cum off my stomach before someone rushes into see how Lord Orochimaru's 'pet' is doing.
It seems, that is the role I've been occupying for countless months. That I've ceased to become Sasuke Uchiha, and have existed as nothing but a training machine hell-bent on killing my older brother. Time has faded away in this place, and I'm left with nothing but an eternal sonata of revenge and pain that won't cease except in the moments when my hands find me under the covers.
I'm in between squeezing out a wash cloth in a basin and reaching for my cock when there's a knock at the door.
"Sasuke?"
Kabuto.
"What?"
"Lord Orochimaru requests to see you."
Of course.
I sigh.
"Tell him I said go to Hell," I reply, putting my pants on and heading for the door. Two steps later, the familiar ache returns.
'Shit'.
"Sasuke."
"Go away." I mutter, heading back over towards the bed.
I hear his footsteps reluctantly leave, and immediately I'm at it again. I cum soon, and am quickly lost in a wave of exhaustion.
As I doze, my mind travels back, and I see her.
I see her, walking dumbly headstrong into the forest, fist and teeth clenched, searching for me.
I see her, attempting to reach for me as I hit and kick at her, trying to flee.
I see her, writing underneath me in pleasure, her body exposed in such beauty that I could have never imagined. Has she always been this sexy? Have her lips always been that full and her stomach that smooth? I can remember the feel of her pink nipples, round breasts, swollen lips. I can see her eye so full of both fear and desire that I nearly lost control before entering her.
I felt her, her body hugging me tightly inside her, her meeting my thrusts in time.
I heard her cries, moans, remembering her scratches on my back. The way I hissed in pleasurable pain. The way she called out and collapsed in blissful sleep.
I remember her, dressing in her tattered clothes, a shameful look across her face as she tearfully walked back to Konoha, blind to my presence in the trees.
I awoke, hard again. Preparing to once again grab my blade and fight. Move through those damn endless training sessions, the same eternal sonata.
Cursing as I hobbled towards my clothes, I tilted my head back, my mind remembering Sakura's sweet scent. The way her hands always reached for me.
"Thank you." I murmur aloud.
Thank you. I said that before I left her. Both times. I thanked her for reasons that I didn't quite understand. Perhaps thank you for trying to save me? Thank you for not chasing me away, not expecting more of me than I can give? Thank you for letting me lose myself in you, to let me put a halt in my endless sonata? Thank you for just…
Thank you.
I decided, I couldn't let it end like this. I couldn't let it. Couldn't let it die. I wouldn't. I needed that brief interruption. I needed that small skip in time, that jolt in the never ending music I perform to.
I couldn't let it just be a brief interlude.
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A.N. Sorry this chapter took me so long, but I re-wrote it like 10 times to get it to a point where I semi-like it enough to put it up. So please don't be too cruel in your reviews. I like the idea here though, of Sasuke being a chronic masturbator. It was actually something that I toyed around with as a crack fic once upon a time, but ended up using here.
Next chapter: We hear from Sakura, and what's been happening since Sasuke's decision.