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Uchiha Sasuke likes to think that his actions go through a decent amount of pondering before they are executed. More often than not, they go as smoothly as he’d expect them to.
Now, though, he can admit that this is not the best course of action he could have taken. Or the most thought out. It slipped through his fingers, like a breath taken out of instinct, and he doesn’t have the option to pause and recalculate how to rectify it.
Not when Naruto is staring at him like that; round blue eyes as fierce as the wind can sometimes be. The reprimand in them hollers out in a constant stream, yet no sound gets out of the tense, straight line of his lips.
He can understand why. The soaked, sticky quality of his undershirt is an understatement of it, as is the dull, pulsing pain along his right collarbone, down towards his shoulder. It is a gruesome wound, continually bleeding even after the long way he has traveled to get back to Konoha, yet here he is standing in the living room of their home instead of having the decency or prudence to go straight to the hospital.
Truthfully, Sasuke can’t explain in words what drove him to come home, to ignore the fatality of his condition. It doesn’t happen. He knows. It shouldn’t happen. But he also knows, deep down, that it had been inevitable. In the past, the circumstances had been as far away as possible from the current one, difference-wise. Every time he had a long-term mission, it always ended with the least sense of urgency for his return. Things went at the well-thought pace of a snail. He calmly, steadily took his time to know that he is stable in the body and mind before returning. Now, something in him itched painfully. It scratched at his patience with slow, long nails. Every time he closed his eyes to compose himself, only light blond and sky blue could occupy his mind.
So Sasuke took the route towards the apartment that he shares with Naruto, without pausing a second time to look towards the Hospital. Without any ounce of regret. He knew what to expect once he passed the threshold of their home, and was greeted by it at full-force. Naruto had sensed him, had come to greet him like he usually does - and perhaps it would have gone that way, or even more so, after literal months of nothing but letters exchanged between them. Perhaps, Naruto would have even jumped to hug him, strong arms around Sasuke’s neck and cold nose buried in the little dip under his jawline.
This time was different, for Sasuke is a fool enveloped by longing of all things. This time, Naruto halted in place, gaped and stuttered in his panic at the sight of Sasuke’s blood dripping like a faulty faucet. And then, sparkling exasperation overtook the golden, glowing complexion of his face. His expression tightened like it often does when he and Sasuke clash in any way; ferocious lines where there’s usual softness along the contours of his charming whiskers. He was angry, outraged even, and Sasuke only had blinks to give him, just for the sake of not succumbing to deep-dive wishes of closeness.
“God,” Naruto muttered under his breath, hands rubbing at his face. The husky timbre of his voice zapped something precarious along Sasuke's spine for a second. God, indeed, Sasuke thought blankly. “Sage’s sake, Sasuke. What the hell.”
Nimble as he is, Naruto only takes a second to close the distance, and the shock of his greenwood scent hits in a dizzying manner. Sasuke wants to sink in it, without any shame. He wants-
“Don’t move,” is growled in a breath, right over his chapped lips and cheeks as Naruto puts his assured hands over his shoulders, tugs his undershirt off, and pushes him down. Sasuke sits on one of the loveseats, exhaling softly through the buzz of his pain. He spreads his legs slowly, and follows through half-lidded eyes the hurried figure of his husband, unable to even cover the bleeding wound with a hand. They’ve grown numb a while ago.
Itachi has his rights when he says so bluntly what he thinks: that Sasuke is a proper fool. Yet if his big brother knew, just how much he could grow from that - into a totally ridiculous direction, as to call himself a proper love-sick fool, he’d simply laugh. Sasuke wouldn’t even feel vexation.
“You’re so stupid. A more idiotic person couldn’t possibly exist right now. Not while you breathe, and you're not trying very hard to do that either right now,” he hears the mutters from the dark pits of the hallway, right before Naruto enters the living room again, a first-aid kit hugged to his chest.
Sasuke would have had the words to respond to it, if his eyes wouldn’t be so fixed on the fluffy mess of blond hair falling over frowning, sharp eyebrows. He speculates, insanely, that his hands will find the strength to sink into those strands if given the chance, just to tug Naruto closer. To feel the puff of his expiration as if it's his own breath. Align their noses together, the tips of them touching in a dance of what if.
Naruto stops right in front of him, eyes crinkled with a dilemma Sasuke should have inquired about, instead of envisioning how Naruto’s hitch of breath would feel under his palm if Sasuke dared to take a gentle hold of his neck, tilt his head playfully, thumb along his sharp jawline, then pry his mouth open deliberate and selfish. But the reality is as such, and so Sasuke didn’t even get to inhale accordingly before his lap was being straddled carefully.
His own breath hitches, painfully, ironically, when a bountiful weight settles on his crotch. Naruto tucks his socked feet under either side of Sasuke’s thighs, looking down at him with his lower lip caught between his teeth, fangs glinting just like his resolve as he stares at Sasuke’s grisly gash.
“You need to stay still for this,” Naruto says softly, one hand lifting to trace with gentle care along the wound, feel the crusted blood. The other is resting atop Sasuke's shoulder, thumb going back and forth over his uninjured collarbone in a nervous manner. “This might hurt. I’m not that good with stichting, but I don’t think we have time to go to the Hospital. We just need to stop the bleeding for now, mm?”
A weak nod, followed by one deep breath. It’s brimming with pines and grass. Wild forest. Sasuke tries to unclench his abdomen, but it’s no use when Naruto shifts a little closer to begin disinfecting the slash, ass sliding evenly over the crease of his thigh and hip, where his cock is desperately trying not to twitch.
It’s not like he hadn’t found himself in this position before. Sasuke has had his fair share of pretty men on his lap. But. There’s a difference of intention, and that is what makes it so distinct. Added to the fact that this is Naruto. Who, while spontaneously affectionate, has only lounged a leg across Sasuke’s lap at most, or had put his head on top of his thigh when they found themselves together on the couch, blinking daintily up at him in hopes for head scratches. Sitting on his lap is not on the list of their usual touches. Usual, casual touches.
Yet now, Naruto is right where Sasuke didn’t ever think he’d be, dressed in light sleep clothes, shirt slipping just the smallest bit off his shoulder, and ever so slightly wiggling his entire body in accordance to his hand movements. He is warm, cozy in the way that only Naruto can feel, and so comfortable on Sasuke’s lap. As if he owns it.
Sasuke wishes he would own it in a different manner completely.
Soft strands of blond hair tickle the tip of his nose, and he can’t breathe. Not without letting his mind go all out with the air in his lungs. Without imagining Naruto desperately holding Sasuke’s nape with sweaty, demanding fingers while he grinds against him. His small, audible breaths crashing against Sasuke’s parted, groaning mouth and doe-eyes clouding with mounting desire.
Staring at the ceiling with blurry, burning eyes, Sasuke clenches his jaw tightly - the most ridiculous part is that it’s not even from pain, but simple, ridiculous self-preservation. He tries, hard as he can in his dazed, weakened state, to refrain himself. From everything. Anything remotely inappropriate. But then, Naruto leans a bit to the left, neck curving, showing tempting tendons, and Sasuke just can’t anymore.
Sudden fingers grasp at the curves of Naruto’s hips, thumbs digging into the crevice between them and his thighs, which makes Naruto stop in an instant. Sasuke grits his teeth, slanted eyes narrowing further when a blue gaze lifts towards him questioningly.
“Stop moving like that,” Sasuke breathes out, tone edged by tension, throaty from disuse.
Naruto’s light eyebrows wrinkle ever so slightly. And it’s rightfully maddening, just how casual he finds all of this. “ Like what?”
Sasuke gives him a simple stare, for he doesn’t know how else to deal with it at first. There’s no knee-jerk reaction for the obliviousness with which he’s met. The most frustrating thing is how much endearment he finds in himself. How soft he’s grown for it, when in other circumstances, with other people, he may not have the patience for anything of the sort. Inhaling deeply, yet slow, Sasuke can only do what he thinks will best express his predicament.
He takes a better hold of Naruto’s slim hips, and pushes them forward slightly. A soft grind. Nothing with carnal intention. But it’s all Naruto needs, now that his focus is entirely on Sasuke’s movements and not the gushing wound on his upper chest, to actually feel his erection.
The blond’s entire breathing stops for a second, pink lips parting gently with a soft sound of understanding, seeming to abstain himself from looking down. Sasuke knows he should feel some type of embarrassment, perhaps, but it is only natural, is it not? To get hard when a pretty man is moving on top of you. Doting on you. Maybe it’s natural for him. Maybe it’s become natural.
Conclusion is, nothing shameful rises in him, and so he only lifts an eyebrow at Naruto, urging something - some sort of response instead of the gentle fidgeting he’s met with, as if Naruto doesn’t know how to proceed from there, thinking, thinking, always overthinking.
That seems to have become a kickstart in the last weeks, for Naruto shakes his head a little like he got out of the bubble he was caught in, lowers his downy gaze onto the wound he was taking care of, then promptly lifts his sharp eyes on Sasuke’s face, narrowing and fierce. The slight sneer he gives Sasuke is entirely too attractive and not annoying enough, all because of those small fangs of his that Sasuke would just love to feel biting at his own lips.
There’s a sudden shift - Sasuke blinks, wincing slightly when he’s jerked a little forward by bold hands. Naruto, sure enough, is busy staring him down, clearly irritated, despite the slight red of his whiskered cheeks.
“I really need to stitch you up,” Naruto says, every word accentuated carefully, all with its singular, hot breath over Sasuke’s mouth. It’s a whole new type of dizzying, it adds to the pain-induced fog in his head. Sasuke sighs, yet not for the good reasons, not because of vexation, but because Naruto all but digs his nails into his shoulder; a warning that may have been intentional, if Sasuke wouldn’t had enjoyed it so shamelessly. “I can’t do it any other way, ‘cos I’m not good at it. I need to be careful. So stay still and take it like a good boy, asshole.”
Fuck. It’s a blank thought. It’s a bold one. Sasuke lets Naruto push his head backwards so he can have more access to his fuck up gash. His focus can shift just like that. Sasuke knows, and understands that his husband may not have it in him, to feel any type of romantic affection, but he just can’t help but wonder what the blond would think of his idiotic, fervent thoughts if he knew about them. If he could make Naruto stutter delicate attempts at words, his embarrassment about how Sasuke wants to take every part of him and make as red as his face, to slide his hand down towards his ass and grasp roughly at it just to push, push, push Naruto forward, more into him and all of their needs. Blood be damned, pain be damned, he’d make Naruto clutch at the loveseat while Sasuke slides his mouth slowly all over his nipples, his flexing abdomen. He’d make Naruto sink on his cock right now, right here, just to feel the high of having his wet, hot heat clench around him mix with the one created by pain.
“If you really can’t take it,” Naruto mumbles suddenly, face a little more raised than what he was doing before Sasuke alerted him of his situation, and Sasuke may have made a sound without noticing, because the next words do really make him question if he’s hallucinating most of this. “Distract yourself… Dunno, use me.”
Use me. Words like this can’t be uttered so casually, with him like this. Naruto is a menace when he wants to be, for sure, but the little glance he gives Sasuke for a second, all round and light - liquid soft with innocence despite the more brash lift of his eyebrow, gives nothing concrete. Nothing he can grasp at.
The hands that he kept still on the blond tighten, and Sasuke exhales through his nose with difficulty, swiftly vexed. “I’m not going to get off like this, you dumbass. It’s a simple reaction to your body on top of mine. Stop worrying about it and do what you said you would.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” Sasuke doesn’t even know how to explain the demure timbre of Naruto’s otherwise rough lilt. “It might even help you with the- the pain. Who knows. Right? Maybe. It’s alright.”
The hips under his palms do a little, smooth movement that does nothing good to the throb of Sasuke’s cock, and it takes everything the Uchiha has in him to plant his legs more firmly on the ground to not grind upwards into it. He merely gives Naruto a small glare, who has the gall to twitch his lips into a small, amused grin.
“Don’t find fun in this,” Sasuke says, and it’s a whole rumble. His throat almost hurts from it. Naruto’s entertainment doesn’t disappear from his glittering gaze.
“I’m trying to show you that it’s not a big deal,” Naruto chirps, seemingly to forget all his annoyances, and it’s as much a whiplash as it makes him fond. Heavens. “Like you said, natural reaction. Just rub it out if it bothers you that much.”
“With your ass?” Sasuke asks, tone ironic, pointed like the tip of his katana. Like it would be distasteful, but really, who is he trying to kid? The gaze he keeps on Naruto at least makes him squirm a bit, and that is, on its own, a bonus. It keeps him refrained. “I think I’ll pass. How much longer?”
He can feel the needle piercing his skin clumsily as plainly as the tension in his hands as he holds Naruto still, even though he doesn’t feel the blond move in the least. It’s mostly for his sanity. A thing to be tethered to.
Naruto hums, short and faint. “Let me just… One more-” A small pause, before an exhale hits his chin. “There. I’m done. How do you feel?”
Instead of responding, Sasuke does the thing that first comes to his mind - he leans forward, face devoid of anything, and bites Naruto’s cheek softly. The blond yelps, high and jerky, moving backward on Sasuke’s thighs instead of his crotch. They both avoid looking down at the obvious bulge laying there; Sasuke because he’s stubbornly eyeing Naruto with slight mirth, and Naruto because he’s busy sputtering while he’s rubbing his reddening cheek.
“What the heck?” Naruto mumbles, but Sasuke has known him for enough time, has slept with him in the same bed enough nights, to know that the little quiver at the corners of his mouth hides a grin. “I help you avoid bleeding out, and you bite me like an animal.”
“That’s for being a brat,” Sasuke responds, simple and calm, and Naruto gives him a pout, all cute and puffy, that the Uchiha ignores for his own sake. He lifts a hand to trace the stitch work, inhaling more easily when he doesn’t feel the nasty slide of blood down his pectorals anymore. “But thank you, Naruto. I’m going to get it checked out.”
“You need to, yes.” All long limbs and often unexpected grace, Naruto gets off him, toying with the edges of his sleep shirt while he puts the scattered things back inside the first-aid kit. When he stands properly up, his hair is even more mussed - Sasuke’s fingers twitch, itching to reach and tug at them just once, like a tease, but he stomps down on it. Naruto gives him a once over, that innate mischief of his returning full force in the blue of his eyes, blond lashes fluttering. “But I suggest you get rid of your problem before you step inside the Hospital. Don’t want people thinking you get off on being beat up, do you?”
Inhaling sharply, Sasuke gives in to his childish compulsions - as he sometimes finds himself doing in the presence of this provoking, enchanting entity of a human. He spreads his legs even more, and gives Naruto the middle finger.
Naruto gives a smile like no other - it starts as a slow, small lick of his lower lip, tongue stopping over one of his fangs before his mouth curves with wicked amusement. “Got it, I’m not needed anymore. Alright. I’m gonna go wash your blood off my hands now. Nice lap- I mean, thank you for offering me your lap, even if I didn’t really ask if I can use it. It was nice. Hope to repeat the experience another time. I mean, well, fuck- You know what? Sure, your lap is comfortable. It’s fun. Now you know. I’m going to wait for you in bed- Not like that, but. You know. You get it. Bye.”
By the time Naruto disappears into the hallway, he’s a red, fuming mess that can’t even glance at Sasuke anymore. Mumbling to himself Gods-know-what, probably bickering with his Bijuu like he often does without even noticing. Sasuke, on his part, can’t stop himself from smiling like a fool as he watches him until he’s not even close enough to be heard . He puts a bloody hand over his face, breathing in and out with all the affection he feels for that babbling fool that sometimes just gives, and gives and makes Sasuke wonder how other people truly live when they’re not the ones receiving it - all of Naruto.
Well, not all. But most. Most of Naruto. Sasuke would like to have all. Would like to have Naruto in the palm of his battered, deadly hand and hold him there like you’d hold slim, pearly crystal. Away from the cruel parts of the world, from the ones who think they could have him, that they could take even a piece for their own enjoyment. Naruto is not to be enjoyed, he is to be lived through and for.
He is Sasuke’s to live through and for, the moment they both reluctantly agreed to marry each other for political reasons, and that is not going to change any time soon. No matter if his romantic feelings won’t be reciprocated, if they remain in this teasing, light limbo that for Sasuke is more than for Naruto - because at the end of it all, Uchiha Sasuke was never one to give, and he will never be.
Though, as he sits there for a few moments, hand already moving lower towards his pants, and thinks back to the remote quality in Naruto’s eyes, his smile, the tenderness of his hands on him, Sasuke at least allows himself to bet that Naruto, while always so giving, will never do it when it comes to Sasuke.
He will hold on, dig his nails into him in any way he can. It’s just an inkling. A small one.
But Sasuke’s intuition is never wrong, and so his bloody hand never wavers as he grasps the base of his cock tightly.