A/N: I either need to stop watching horror movies, or stop reading the manga. This story came out of nowhere, and is extremely depressing, so I apologize.
One-Shot #62
But It Wasn't
It wasn't that he didn't want this, he just didn't want it like this. He'd been wanting the pale skinned boy standing in front of him for years, since sex became something his body unconsciously thought about and began needing, but it was never like this.
He could feel Sasuke's pale skin sliding against his, the sweat making both of them slip against each other easily. What should have been something sweet, romantic, and intimate was spawned from hate and anger and frustration. This wasn't turning out anything like Naruto's fantasies, but a part of him was screaming 'at least it's happening.'
Sasuke's smooth voice was moaning his name, but there was urgency to it. No romance at all. The raven's fingernails scratched down Naruto's tanned back, leaving deep red marks in their wake. Naruto hissed at the pain, but arched into it more. It was exactly like their relationship always was. A moment of pleasure draped in moments of pain. But what did he expect? Sasuke was his polar opposite, a paragon of everything Naruto wasn't. Smart, strategic, and beautiful, and there were moments where Naruto hated him.
But right now, he didn't know what to feel. Right now, with Sasuke's body sliding over him, pinning him on the cold ground, digging his nails into already heated skin, Naruto was a plethora of emotions. His eyes had been closed since they'd began, him being too afraid to see what Sasuke was thinking, what he was feeling, but he chose now to open them.
Sasuke's eyes were filled with an emotion Naruto had never seen there before, and couldn't name. A sharp intake of breath as Sasuke's fingertips found a sensitive spot on his side made the emotion change slightly. There was something else there, now, like amusement. A small smirk played on his face as the urgency in his touches slowly turned softer, slower.
Naruto nearly moaned as just that thought played through his head. Just the thought that Sasuke could actually want this was enough to nearly send him over the edge. With urgency of his own, he dug his nails into Sasuke's shoulders and pulled him closer. He could say something, and potentially ruin the moment, but he instead opted to let his body show Sasuke.
When the tryst ended, and the cold night air skipped across their heated and sweating skin, Sasuke allowed Naruto a moment of intimacy. Naruto curled himself up against Sasuke, his head lying on the pale teen's chest, and felt relieved. The blonde felt, almost, as if they had crossed a boundary of some sort, that they were closer now. Most importantly, he thought, maybe, Sasuke might come home now. There was no more comfort than that thought in his head as he drifted off to sleep.
Birds were chirping, which was playing along with his dream of a world where Sasuke never left him. The happiness was overwhelming, which is exactly how Naruto knew, without a fact, it was a dream. His life was never this happy, this perfect. His blue eyes flew open and he sat straight up, his head turning from side to side dramatically in a frantic search for his new lover. But it was a lost cause his heart already knew Sasuke wasn't there. Sasuke had left long before Naruto awoke, left without a traceā¦almost.
On the ground, about a meter away, a small slip of paper was lying under a rock. On one side of the paper, in Sasuke's own neat handwriting, was 'Naruto'; on the other side was the message, the words Naruto wouldn't forget.
If things were different, if I was different, we could be together. But I'm an avenger. I promise you that, once I am done with my destiny, I'll come back for you. I promise.
Naruto was still waiting for him two years later, waiting by the gate as the ANBU and medical ninja's carried him though the front gates in a body bag.
Once, Naruto might have believed that things were meant to be, but it wasn't.
Who else thinks that Sasuke needs a meeting with Dr. Phil? I mean, c'mon, if your brother going psycho on your ass and trying to pluck out your eyeballs doesn't turn you psychotic, then what would?
Thankies for reading, btw!
