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“Why do you have to go?” Shisui frowns at nothing in particular, fingers grasping the frayed edges of the grey knit blanket and his gaze never once leaving the ceiling.
The entire conversation was on a loop.
Clearly, Sakura has to go to Kiri for the sole reason of supervising her entire medical team. As an ambassador, leaving the first-year medics to run around without a supervisor was just plain stupid, because the junior medics had not established dominance, which led to more chaos than peace. Konoha Hospital, the investors, and supervisors were counting on her to have the entire debacle pass smoothly, and the only thing was that the debate conference took up Shisui’s only free weekend this month.
So naturally, he decided to be sulky about it.
“Because Captain Uchiha,” she starts off smartly and tosses a pillow from her sofa at him, “I am also a Captain."
Shisui makes a strangled sound from the back of his throat.
It’s not the first time she’s gone away for a mission or a conference, but it is the first time their schedules clash, which in hindsight, is a miracle. However, since his last mission – which ended up going balls first – Shisui was needier than usual. Normally, she has no problem with indulging her boyfriend, but she feels the sting of his irritation when he hears her rattle on about how the first years don’t have a spine, so she has to take care of it.
Shisui understands, really, he does, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to complain.
Sakura sets her pack next to the counter, just a few feet away from the door, and turns to see him curl up on her side of the bed. He stubbornly keeps his back facing her body as he stares out the window from the side.
She sighs and suddenly drops herself dramatically over Shisui’s lounging self. Sakura winces when his bony hip digs into her lower back, but her hair brushes over his hands at the abrupt action, he’s distracted momentarily by the strands of carnation-colored hair against the warm hues of their bedside lamp. She rolls over – limbs awkwardly flailing because she's too impatient and too indulging towards this man – until she straddles her boyfriend’s hips.
“It’s only two days,” Sakura tells him gently and hums when she rolls her hips into his.
“I’m still going to miss you,” Shisui grumbles, only lightly, and wraps his hand in her hair. “And this pretty face.”
“I thought you’re the one with a pretty face,” she laughs and leans down to kiss him.
He groans against her lips and pulls her closer, “We can share the title.”
When Sakura's fingers tangle in his hair, blunt nails scraping the back of his scalp and pressing into the tendons of his shoulders, he arches his back—intent on keeping her close to him. He inhales sharply before slipping his arms around her waist, switching their positions until she’s flat against the bed, and a soft sigh muffles against his mouth.
Shisui tosses her sweater somewhere – from the sound of it, it might be a nearby vase – and tugs off her shorts. He is keen to feel her skin bare and soft against his. There is a certain starkness in which he moves against her, there is legitimate eagerness in the way he presses kisses to her throat, her collarbone, the underneath of her ears, but there is a gentleness in which he glides over her hips and breasts.
Impatience burns the pit of her throat and she snaps open her bra. Sakura reaches for his vest and tosses it on the ground, “You’re taking too long.”
“I’m just enjoying the moment, Sakura,” Shisui laughs against her throat and cups her breasts gingerly at first, then firmly when the pads of his thumbs brush the blooming bud, “Let me savor this, I am going to be without you for two whole days.”
“And one night,” she gasps when he pinches the aching nipple and chuckles breathlessly when he squeezes, “Whatever will you do?”
Shisui runs his tongue over a soft peak before suckling, then rakes his teeth over the extended tip and she shivers in the contrast in movements. He breathes against her sternum, “Pine away, of course.”
“Nothing new, I guess,” Sakura laughs shakily when he leaves purple flowers and red peonies on her skin, tongue dipping into her navel as he slides down and sighs as he finally removes her underwear from her needy sex.
“You like it when I pine,” he chuckles against her thigh, fingers sliding over her folds, testing her sensitivity when he glides finger over the throbbing tissue, “You’re a bit more sadistic than I am.”
“Sadistic?” her laugh bleeds into a moan when he slips a finger inside, then another, crooking the digits until they barely brush the spongy area on the ceiling of her sex, and his tongue leaves kitten licks on the hood of her clitoris, “Hypocrite.”
Shisui chuckles into her cunt and languidly thrusts his fingers into her—slowly bringing her to her peak. It’s the slow build, the restlessness in her legs, and the shake in her voice that he adores. He presses a little harder, loving the way her muscles twitch against his cheek, and sucks a little harshly when she doesn’t expect it.
“Shisui,” she gasps, arching her spine because she can taste just how close her orgasm is and then he pulls out just when she’s on the brink
He hums, deftly switching positions until he slides home, shifting his hips until he's flush against her pelvis, caressing the curves of her waist, and the sides of her breasts until he threads his fingers with hers and presses her deeply into the mattress. He thrusts into her with heavy, slow strokes and murmurs against her lips, “Yeah?”
The edge is still there, but it’s not as sharp as it was earlier. Her orgasm slowly creeps up, tangling in her veins, pushing with slow waves, and he moans so sultry in her ear when she squeezes that much tighter.
“Faster?” Sakura breathes, writhing against him, and sucks a bruise right against his pulse, “Please.”
“Mmhm,” Shisui hooks her legs into the crook of his elbows and changes the angle of his thrust—snappier, but still keeps the slow, intense pace as before. He grins against her lips, “I don’t think so. I like it, just like this.”
Her nails dig into his palms as she whines when he stirs his hips and she pants, “Mean.”
Shisui laughs, sweet and sinful, “Love you.”
“Yeah,” she sighs slowly and rakes a hand down his back, “Me too.”
Shisui swallows her small scream when his thumb joins in too and whispers endearments against her face.