The Last Night Together

Sakura set her mug of green tea back on the kitchen table and ran her fingers through her hair. The hospital had been a welcome distraction for most of the day, but Shizune had sent her home two hours ago. Of all the messes to get herself into, falling in love with a man who didn't want a true relationship was perhaps the worst. A man who would happily fall into the arms of another woman. She felt like an idiot. She had it in her mind that it would be okay to break the rules, to pretend he was hers and she was his.

Or was it that she waited too long to tell him she wanted more, that she dared dream of more? Sleeping in his arms almost every night for two years had messed with her head. It had been so nice to feel cared for, loved, that she had forgotten the rules in their bed. She had forgotten that they didn't belong to each other, that this was all borrowed time—that they were only friends.

She traced her finger along the edge of the note he left. He was picking up groceries this evening, and left the note in case she got home before he could walk her home from the hospital. Though it was weird that Sasuke had been waiting for her in the lobby… And that he had walked her home. And walked through her home before she could kick him out.

Still, he was sitting on the front step outside the door. She could feel him like an ominous black cloud. Sasuke had never hovered quite this much.

Shisui's voice was muffled from the other side of the door as he spoke to Sasuke. He twisted the key into the lock, the wards around the door shimmered with a flair of chakra. "Thanks again, man."

Sakura could see Sasuke wave him off as he hopped down the stairs and left.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted for dinner, so I picked up some tempura," Shisui said, setting the bags on the table.

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything. How's your head? You were pretty wasted last night."

He walked over, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently. Sakura could feel her heart thud in her chest when he went in for a kiss. She looked away, leaving him to land on her cheek instead.

Placing her hands on his chest, she started to push him away. "I, uh, think we should talk."

He brushed his thumb against her cheek. His lips were warm against the end of her nose and she closed her eyes, naturally sinking into him. "You're beautiful."

"I…"

He stole a kiss; she let him.

"My world would be incomplete without you."

"Shisui—"

He lifted her hand from his chest and kissed her inner wrist. Her heart skipped a beat at the closeness, and the intimate way he settled her hand around the back of his neck. All thought of difficult conversation flew out of her mind with one glance at his sloe eyes gazing into hers. She felt drunk on his voice, the smell of his throat, the feel of her lips against hers.

The slow movement of his hand teasing the bottom hem of her shirt drowned out her thoughts. His lips were like a fox in the night, stealing her breath away with silken strength, goading her mouth to open for his. She wanted to fall into his quiet reserve, the veneer of calm that concealed the inferno within.

Goosebumps broke across the surface of her skin with a pass of his calloused fingertips. The uneven calluses grazed the bottom of her ribs. There was a sanctity to his movements, to the shared breath in the dark of night as they crossed muffled carpet and glossy hardwood. The small hairs on the back of his neck locked into her fingers. She dipped her fingers down the planes of his neck to his shoulders, reveling in the sturdy feel, the warmth of him.

Their lips broke apart outside of their bedroom and cooled in the air conditioning of the apartment. He was gentle as he lifted her shirt over her head and shuffled through their apartment with her hands on his forearms.

Sakura could feel the sweat beading on his forehead against hers, as though he had run around for hours in the heat. Black-brown clumps of his hair clung to his forehead, stark against the tan lines his hitai-ate left behind. He lifted his forehead from hers and kissed the end of her nose.

There was a neediness about him she didn't want to question, an ache that was far too similar after the worst ANBU battles.

"Shisui?" she dared whisper, caressing his jaw with the side of her thumb.

His eyes softened, the fire dimmed to a warm glowing ember. "I…" He inhaled, his breath fanned out and fluttered the ends of her hair when he breathed out.

"Talk to me."

"I'm leaving on a mission soon. Spend the night with me? Please?"

The last protest died on her tongue with the earnest set of his brow, his parted lips. He drew her in with every syllable. He was quiet and patient, as they stood skin against skin in the dark hallway, waiting for her answer.

Sakura glanced over his shoulder at the cooling mug on the kitchen table, the condensating bag of styrofoam wrapped tempura. She thought of the last night, the woman with purple hair, his broken voice that the woman hid for him. The lack of trust hurt, each secret he kept felt like a shard of glass to her heart, each breaking into a thousand pieces with a million small cuts. They stacked and layered onto one another until she wasn't sure if the man in front of her was truly Shisui, or if he even knew who he was.

The only place he had ever been himself was in their bed, the apartment was a lie, the bedroom itself was a lie. Small tchotchkes that lined the shelves she had carefully collected since the fire were hers and not his.

And yet they lended the illusion that he was fully present and wholly committed to their…friendship.

He brushed his thumb along the edge of her jaw and kissed her forehead. "Where do you go in that head of yours? It's okay if you say no."

"You're talking like you don't plan on returning. Be honest with me."

"I've never lied to you."

"A lie doesn't have to have words to still be a lie. I'm not some withering flower that won't be able to stand if you tell me the truth."

"I leave in a week. No, I'm not sure when I'll return."

"Take me with you."

Shisui gently kissed her lips again, running his fingers through her hair and removing her hair tie. The ends tickled as they fell down around her shoulders.

"Take me with you," she insisted. She put her hands on his chest even as he pulled her in closer. "Please."

"No. It's a solo mission."

She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heart beat while he rocked from side to side. It wasn't in a shinobi's nature to beg someone to come back home alive. More often than not it was bad luck. If he wasn't even taking Itachi or Kakashi or even Genma, then it truly was a solo mission as he said. If that were the case, it didn't come from Tsunade directly.

A world without Shisui—absent of his arms around her, or a wink from across a crowded hospital waiting room, or a quiet love without words—was... The words were on the tip of Sakura's tongue, the three syllables they agreed to not share. They waged war against the doubt in her mind, and bounced off one another until they finally tumbled out.

"I lo…I would love to spend the night with you."

He pressed his lips together, his eyes dipping down to the floor for the briefest moment before he disappeared behind the mask again. The fever-pitch of his lust returned. He ripped his shirt over his head with one hand and threw it down the hallway. Resting his hands on her hips, his forehead against hers, he walked them back to the bedroom.

The carpet brushed against the soles of Sakura's feet cushioning each step, contrasting with the savagery she displayed against his lips with every nip and tug. She wanted to push him, force him into the next steps so she didn't have to take them. The pressure of his fingers against her hips turned bruising, small marks and trophies she'd later refuse to erase. Not if they only had this night.

He smelled like the fragrance-free soap he used before missions, with a slight chemical undertone. She had never told him his natural scent reminded her of hickory smoke, sweet, mild, comforting. Burying her nose against the side of his neck, she thought to commit it to memory, that fleeting moment, the smell she never thought she'd lose.

The brush of his thumb against her cheek beckoned her back to the present, to the strong grip of his hand in her hair as he moved his lips against hers. He broke apart for a moment and muttered, "Stay with me."

"I am with you." As if to emphasize her point, she unbuttoned his pants, shoving them down his hips.

"Good." He unsnapped the back of her bra, and she welcomed the sting of the straps as he yanked them down her arm.

Sakura loosened the drawstring of her lounge pants, letting them pool at her feet. Her nipples pebbled against the chill of the cold air as she ripped through the front of his shirt. The threads snapped away from each other, furling into the fabric when she returned the favor and threw it against the wall. She dug her nails into his neck, forcing his head towards her breasts. Curses fell from his mouth when she flipped their position and began to backtrack him to the bed until the backs of his knees hit the mattress.

He pulled the kunai hidden in the corner of the mattress and box spring and ran the flat of the blade along the side of her hip. Goosebumps sprung on her skin from the cold of the metal and adrenaline. The tip of it welted her skin beneath the elastic band of her panties. His tongue was hot and wet against her nipple as he brought her in closer with his spare hand on her lower back. She moved in closer, pressing his mouth firmer against her. The side of her panties fell away with his knife. He ran the blade against the side of her thigh before ripping the other side of her panties off with his hands.

"Shisui, don't stop," she moaned when he dropped the kunai to the floor and took her hips in his hands. He moved from one breast to the other. The contrast of the bare air after the wet heat of his mouth was almost unbearable until he abandoned them altogether and moved down her abdomen.

He hissed as her grip in his hair tightened and unwound her hand, placing it on his erect cock instead. "Careful with the claws, sweetheart," he joked through a pained expression.

His cock was heavy and thick in her hand. She leaned down and placed her fingers beneath his chin to meet his lips. A tear slipped down her face that she buried between them, kissing her way from his lips, down his jaw to his neck. She stayed there for a moment, embracing the hitch of his breath as she suckled on his pulse. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest beneath her hand, matching the beat of her own.

If he noticed the tear, he didn't say anything, simply brushed his thumb across her cheek. She pushed him down until his back was on the mattress and mounted him. The roughness of his pants and the bite of his loosened belt spurred her on until she was hovering over him. The head of his cock teased her entrance while his hands remained on her hips. For a moment, she thought she saw a tear trace its way across his cheek. She ran the side of her hand across her cheek, down his jaw. He loosened his hold from her hip and trapped her wandering hand, bringing it to his lips.

Chakra shimmered in the air. There was a pull of a genjutsu he didn't hide that she dispelled. He closed his eyes instead.

"It's never bothered me, you know," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "I know you can't help it sometimes."

"Okay." He opened his eyes, and she was lost in a swirling crimson sea.

"It's kind of a compliment to make you lose control like that." Sakura slowly lowered herself onto his cock, moaning when she bottomed out.

He hummed in the back of his throat and kissed her inner wrist again. "I've always liked it when you destroy the sheets."

She could feel the heat flood her cheeks. "I do not destroy the sheets."

Shisui gave her a soft smirk, moving her hips with his hands. "You do."

"I—" Whatever words she was about to say were replaced by an unintelligible, wanton moan from his thumb on her clit. She moved up on his erection, only to immediately drop back down until she found a rhythm.

"Fuck," he hissed, the corners of his eyes tightened as he met hers.

The clock ticked in the distance, the sound buried beneath the rustle of their comforter beneath their bodies. He brushed his thumb against the side of her jaw, lacing his fingers in her hair as he pulled her lips into his. Still, even as she matched him move for move, she worried she was unable to hide the aggression, the possessiveness she felt boiling up from the deep parts of her heart where she had tried to bury them. Without meaning to, her own grip turned bruising on the back of his shoulder, her lips crushing his as she fought against time - or was it fate? - that she found herself in a losing battle with trying to keep him here.

When he tried to flip them over and take over, she threw her entire weight down on him, fighting against her own instinct for submission. Anything to keep him safe in their bed, at least for the night. Part of her hoped, childishly, he wouldn't leave if he could feel their souls connect like she swore she did.

"Stay with me," Shisui mumbled against her lips from under her. "Stay with me."

She wished she could say the same and mean it in the way he did.

Without warning, she felt the heat of her orgasm flood her. He flipped them over, taking advantage of her moment of weakness, and mercilessly driving their rhythm to completion. All too soon, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and followed her into the abyss.

Sakura laid down on her side and stared at the lamp behind Shisui's head. She watched the final sunlight fade from behind the blinds, plunging the city into the darkness of night. It was quiet, even as he spoke to her, the blankets tucked around her chin, a loving look in his eyes that was a lie.

If he had loved her, she would be the only woman he would even look at. Hers would be the only hand he would hold… The only lips he would kiss, alone in his office, sharing secrets over an empty bag of trail mix in the small hours of the night.

The thread of sanity she was holding on to while he held her threatened to snap. She had thought she had been long cured of obsessing over a boy. All of it was a lie. Every last feeling, passing thought…lies…

When the sun finally began to creep through the blinds and touch Sakura's closed eyes, she realized she had fallen asleep. She reached out, knowing what she would find when she touched the ice-cold sheets beside her. The next tear fell, and then the next, until the cotton beneath her cheek was soaked. For the first time in years, she felt weak.

And still, the sun rose from behind the blinds, the clock ticked down each minute that passed. The upstairs neighbors vacuumed their bedroom. A bird chirped from the birdhouse that was suctioned onto their window. The bathroom faucet slowly dripped into the sink, the fan whirred overhead.

Sakura screamed into Shisui's pillow then threw it to the other side of the room. Jackknifing out the bed, she ripped the sheets off the corner. The fabric snapped, leaving jagged edges in the middle where her fists had been. Feathers floated in the air when the duvet followed, somehow having escaped the carnage of the first round. They shifted with the fan, and flew to the edges of the room as the duvet was thrown against the wall. She flipped the mattress over, letting it punch a hole in the closet door with its landing. She didn't stop until the entire bed was destroyed. The frame lay in pieces, the headboard was smashed to bits.

A sob escaped her as she looked at the carnage she had created. Weak. Not physically, not anymore. Mentally. Emotionally. Weak. Falling madly in love for a man who had no interest in being exclusive. One who had gods knew how many women on the side. She was just the one who helped pay the bills, split the chores. Desperate for companionship. So desperate to belong to someone. So weak.

AN: Thank you for reading! If you have time please leave a comment.

Ya'll I struggled with this chapter for literal months. I have never written a smut scene like this. It wasn't intended to showcase the sexy side of sex, but the emotions it can bring out. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it.