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Sasuke wants a divorce.
She’s the mother of his child. She’s been his wife for twelve years. She’s been an Uchiha for twelve years, keeping his clan alive in the village they founded, and now he wants to take that away. He wants her to have a different name than the daughter she bore and raised.
This isn’t what was supposed to happen.
Her hand tightens around the sake cup, shattering it into dust. The house is dark and empty, Sarada off with her teammates again. She’s been avoiding being home recently and Sakura doesn’t feel guilty about it because it’s not her fault. It’s Sasuke’s and Naruto’s and –
There’s a shockingly loud crash, something breaking and being torn. Sakura stands, a little wobbly on her feet after half a bottle, but chakra is already gathering in her hands. What’s going on? The village is safe, the village has been safe, what could –
Hinata stands there, shoulders heaving, hands clenched into fists. She’s used to Hinata’s bland, pleasant expression, and to see it twisted like it is now is almost as much of a shock as realizing that she’s torn her front door from its hinges. “You stupid, selfish child!”
She doesn’t have any idea what the fuck is going on, but anger flares hot and indignant inside of her. “Are you out of your mind? What are you doing?”
This is Hinata’s fault. Sakura had pushed her and Naruto together for a reason. She was supposed to keep Naruto occupied, keep him focused on her, so that he didn’t have the time to go looking at her husband. He’s the fucking hokage, he’s got his little wife, he has his two kids, he’s constantly exhausted. How does he even have the time to ruin her marriage? Shikamaru’s a miracle worker, truly.
“We were fine,” Hinata hisses, advancing on her in a way that Sakura would find intimidating if Hinata hadn’t spent the last twelve years as a housewife. Some of them hadn’t been born into a rich clan or marr – or had other advantages. “It was good, it was working, until you had to go throw your little temper tantrum and ruin it–”
Hinata knows, then. Sakura hadn’t been sure. She has to be used to her husband working late. “It’s not my fault that your husband is cheating on you.”
“No,” she says, “but it’s your fault he’s leaving me.”
Naruto’s getting a divorce too? What do they think that’s going to accomplish? Are they actually going to marry each other?
As if the humiliation isn’t enough already.
“If you’d kept his attention like you were supposed to–”
Hinata’s punch narrowly misses her face and shatters her cabinet. All the cups come tumbling out and break onto the ground.
She’s right in front of her, her arm still extended past her face, practically touching her. Sakura’s eyes are wide, her breath caught in her lungs. Hinata’s pale skin is flushed with rage, her dark hair falling softly around her. She smells like vanilla and lavender. Sakura had thought she didn’t wear perfume, but she was just never close enough to smell it. “I knew he was sleeping with Sasuke. He told me. We were fine. The only homewrecker here is you.”
“You knew?” she demands, the betrayal stinging more than it should. She and Hinata aren’t close, but she still thought she’d tell her if her husband was cheating on her. Then the rest of what she’d said catches up with her and she sneers. “It was fine? He’s fucking someone else and you didn’t care. Don't you have any self respect?”
This time Sakura has to dodge Hinata’s punch, sliding past her and to the other side of the kitchen. There goes another one of her cabinets. And all the plates.
“The last person who can lecture me on self respect,” Hinata says, eyes bulging with Byakugan, “is you.”
She can’t remember the last time she saw Hinata activate her bloodline limit. It almost distracts her from her own anger. Almost. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not like you,” she says, looking down at Sakura with her father’s arrogance. “What difference does it make if Sasuke divorces you or not? He hasn’t been in the village in over a decade and it’s not as if he ever liked you. My husband has been home. He loves me. He knows our children’s faces.”
Sakura’s fist is swinging before she can remember to temper her rage, her strength, to take into account the fact that Hinata hasn’t seen combat since she was pregnant with Boruto.
Her punch is deflected like it’s nothing. The damn Gentle Fist Style and its ultimate defense.
“I married Naruto knowing he was in love with Sasuke,” she says. “I didn’t lie to myself like you did. Why would I care if they slept together? He’s still sleeping with me, he still comes home to me, he is exactly the same husband he’s been our whole marriage because our whole marriage he still held Sasuke in his heart.”
Sasuke and Naruto are not in love. What they share isn’t love. It’s infatuation and trauma and bloody and something she’s never understood, but it isn’t love. It can’t be.
If that’s love, she’s never loved or been loved a day in her life.
“Only now you’ve forgotten your place,” Hinata continues, cruel in a way Sakura didn’t know she could be, “and pushed your luck and lost and now I’m going to lose too. If Sasuke isn’t married to you, he doesn’t want Naruto to be married to me. He gave Naruto an ultimatum.”
Like she gave Sasuke an ultimatum. Except instead of caving, instead of apologizing, instead of coming to his senses, he’d looked at her with dark, blank eyes and said he’d arranged for the divorce papers to be delivered. He’d said that they don’t truly have any shared assets and Sarada is legally an adult now so there should be nothing to discuss further.
It had felt like watching him leave the village all over again.
Then he’d gone to Naruto and delivered the same ultimatum she had, only he’d gotten exactly what he wanted out of it. Because Naruto shares something with Sasuke that she never has. It’s not love.
It’s not.
“This isn’t my fault,” she says and hates the way her voice trembles.
“It’s been twenty years since you were a twelve year old girl,” Hinata says. “Don’t you think it’s time you grew up?”
There’s Ino’s voice echoing in her head, calling her a girl forever in love, and she’d said she was envious of it, but Sakura doubts it now like she hadn’t then. Her next hit is hard enough to shatter bone and it glances off Hinata like nothing. It just makes her angrier. She picks up kitchen chair to swing at her, but it explodes into pieces, leaving her holding nothing but broken bits of wood. She fucking hates Gentle Fist style. “Shut up! You have no idea what I’ve been through, what I’ve sacrificed for the Uchiha–”
Hinata turns and kicks her wall so hard a hole two feet wide and tall forms. The picture of the Uchiha fan that had been hung there is crumpled and broken and it makes something in her snap.
“What do you think you're doing?” Hinata spins away from her next punch instead of deflecting it. If it had been two inches to the left, she would have taken out a supporting beam. “Do you have a death wish? One hit from me could kill you.”
Hinata tilts her head to the side, lips pulled up in something like contempt, something infuriating. “What makes you think you can land one hit?”
She lunges for Hinata and she lets her get closer than she has to with her Byakugan, trades blows that should break and tear but Hinata’s Gentle Fist redirects the strength and chakra of her strikes. She’s been housebound for a decade, but her movements are strong and smooth, not a hint of hesitation in her form.
“The Uchiha are dead,” Hinata says and Sakura is so surprised that Hinata’s next kick sends her slamming into the wall. “Sasuke knows that. Why don’t you?”
“We’re not,” she gasps out, forcing herself forward. “You have no idea how Sasuke feels.”
Her next hit pushes Hinata back several feet into her counter, but doesn’t seem to harm her besides that. “Neither do you. But Naruto knows, he’s always known, and I know because my husband told me. He doesn’t wear the Uchiha crest anymore, he hasn’t since he came back. Don’t you think there’s a reason for that? Do you think that maybe it has something to do with why he won’t accept a prosthetic arm like Naruto's even after all this time?”
Sasuke doesn’t like talking about that. She’s offered so many times to make him a prosthetic of his own and he just looks at her and changes the subject.
“You don’t have a real marriage,” Hinata says. “You never did. He’s never treated you as his wife and you have no idea what it’s like to have a husband. But my marriage is real. Naruto has always treated me as his wife. And because you’re too stupid to keep your mouth shut, I’m going to lose my husband.”
Sakura kicks her in the stomach, or tries to. What she ends up doing is destroying her sink.
“If you weren’t so shortsighted, you wouldn’t even have this problem,” Hinata says, a mocking edge to her voice. “Naruto loved you, you know. He was in love with Sasuke, but you were the only girl he looked at back then. It could have been you far easier than it was me.”
Why would she have married Naruto? She wanted Sasuke.
“You could have shared,” she says, seeing Sakura’s confusion. “Naruto would have insisted and Sasuke would have done it if it meant he got Naruto. He wouldn’t have avoided the village for twelve years. You might not have spoken to him or seen him in that time, but Naruto did. He had time for Naruto, but not for you. If he wasn’t so busy avoiding you and the daughter he hadn’t planned–”
“Don’t talk about my daughter,” she says viciously, trying for another hit that the Gentle Fist style counters.
“My children were planned,” she says. She’s not throwing anymore hits now, just deflecting them, but her words are enough. “I wasn’t pregnant when Naruto and I married.” They were out of the village for both the wedding and Sarada’s birth. There’s no way for Hinata to know the exact timeline. Unless, of course, Sasuke told Naruto and he told her. “We planned Boruto, we planned Himawari, we were talking about a third when Kakashi told Naruto he was getting ready to step down. I was willing, but Naruto said he didn’t want me dealing with a baby on my own since he’d be too busy to help much. It was so obvious that he was thinking of you and Sarada and how he would never want to do to me what Sasuke did to you.”
Sakura finally finds an opening and punches Hinata in the face. The way it doesn’t break her jaw, just sends her face snapping to the side, means Hinata let it through, means she’d still countered some of it. “I said don’t talk about my daughter!”
Blood drips down her mouth and she’s smiling anyway. “If your daughter gets her wish, she won’t be an Uchiha either in the end. Boruto does like her, you know. Then if you keep the name, you’ll be the last Uchiha. What a joke.”
No. Even if Sasuke married Naruto, he wouldn’t take his name. His clan is everything to him.
It was everything to him when they were twelve.
She doesn’t see the hit coming and hits the wall with a groan, sliding down to sit on cold tile while surrounded by broken glass. She’s tired. Hinata’s hits all hurt.
Hinata moves faster than Sakura thought she could, and then the other woman is straddling, her wrists pinned above her head with one hand and her other pulled back in fist. Sakura is startled by the warm weight in her lap, by the sharp pain of fingers digging into her skin. She’s never been able to read much in Hinata’s pale eyes, but right now the anger is clear, the desperate clawing that Sakura feels under her own skin. For a moment they just stare at her, Sakura waiting for Hinata’s next hit, not sure if she’s going to deflect it or return it or just take it, and Hinata – she doesn’t know what Hinata is doing.
She really doesn’t know what she’s doing when Hinata rolls her hips into her. Heat rushes to her face. Hinata leans down, her lips against her ear. “I ride Naruto like this. He likes when I pin him down, even though we both know I couldn’t hold him.”
Hinata can’t hold her either. Her clan’s taijutsu style means Sakura can’t land a decent hit, but she’s too close to use it now. Sakura could break something like she wants to so badly, she could throw her off, she could flip them and hold Hinata down and –
Hinata rolls her hips again and it shouldn’t mean anything, they’re fully clothed, but she’s warm and there and her rather impressive breasts are right in her face. Naruto must kiss them when she does this, must take her nipples in his mouth and bite and suck.
“Sasuke rides him like this too.”
She flinches back so hard her head hits the wall again. “You can’t know–”
“I told him to,” she says calmly, still moving her hips, her breasts still so close to Sakura’s face. “I told him he would like it. He grips both of Naruto’s wrists in his one hand and goes slow until Naruto begs for it. I always get too impatient for mine to drag it out for long, but apparently Sasuke likes to savor it, likes to see how long Naruto will be good for him before he snaps. Naruto loves being good for him.”
She opens her mouth to say something, she doesn’t know, but then Hinata ducks down and licks into her mouth.
Sakura squeaks.
Hinata’s lips are slick and soft and her tongue feels strange in her mouth. There’s a hand on her breast, a thumb moving against her nipple, and Sakura whimpers.
When Hinata pulls back, her cheeks are flushed. Sakura is sure her own face is red. Hinata touches Sakura's face and wipes her thumb against her bottom lip, briefly dipping it inside her mouth to rub her calloused finger against her tongue, the edge of her teeth.
“I knew making love was off the table,” Hinata says, almost sounding surprised, “but he doesn’t even fuck you, does he?”
Anger and arousal and a hundred other things are running through her. She bares her teeth, vaguely taking note of the fact that Hinata’s hand isn’t on her wrist anymore, that there’s one on her chest, on her face. “We didn’t make Sarada in a lab.”
“I figured you had sex,” she says, almost offhand. “When he was around, anyway. Sasuke’s not dead and you’re beautiful.” The warmth spreads from Sakura’s face to someplace lower. “Naruto makes love to me. He kisses every inch of me and spreads me out on the bed and does all the things I like best, rocks into me slow and perfect and I’ll come twice before he does. He fucks me too, fast and hard and good, teeth and bruises. Sasuke must have so many marks on him now. I thought Sasuke fucked you. But it’s not even that, is it?” Hinata’s thumb slips into her mouth again. Sakura closes her lips around it. She doesn’t know why. “You look rather unfucked, Sakura.”
They had sex on the road. They’ve had sex a few times since he came back, although not recently, obviously.
He doesn’t say anything. She kisses him and he lets her, he puts himself over her and she lets him. She wants to be good for him, she wants him to like it, to want it, so she tries to do what he wants but it’s hard to tell. She lays there and sighs and moans and he’ll hold himself up with his one arm and thrust into her, steady and unfaltering. Sometimes she comes, sometimes she doesn’t, but after she curls up on his chest and he doesn’t push her away and in the dark it feels like love.
They always have sex in the dark.
Hinata’s hand moves down her chest, down her stomach, and her fingers slip beneath the waistband of her pants. Sakura gasps around the thumb still in her mouth and Hinata slips two more fingers past her lips, almost making her gag, her pinky and ring finger pressed hard against her cheek. She can feel Hinata’s wedding ring against her skin.
Then her hand nudges beneath her pants, her panties, and Hinata’s fingers are rubbing against her clit. She jerks at the sensation and she does gag then, throat convulsing as Hinata’s fingers nudge the back of her mouth.
“You haven’t trained yourself out of your gag reflex yet?” Hinata asks, voice low, even as she removes her fingers.
Why would she have bothered? Sasuke doesn’t like her mouth.
Naruto probably likes Hinata’s.
Does Sasuke like it when it’s Naruto’s mouth on him?
Her pants are being unzipped and pulled down her hips. She should do something, should put a stop to this, should at least bring them upstairs to do this in a bed if they’re going keep going. But she doesn’t.
She pushes herself up to grab the edge of Hinata’s shirt, pulling it over her head. Hinata doesn’t resists, lets her do it. She dresses to hide them, always has, and they’re huge, even bigger than Ino’s. Sakura undoes the clasp on the back of her bra even as Hinata undoes the buttons on her shirt and pushes it off her shoulders. The bra built into her top is enough for her, but Hinata’s breasts spill out heavy and pale and Sakura’s mouth waters. Naruto has to bite them. She wants to bite them.
Hinata presses the fingers that had been in her mouth between her legs, pushing them into her cunt. Sakura takes in a sharp breath as Hinata laughs at her, soft and not at all mean like she’s been since she broke down her door.
She’s wet.
She’s really wet.
She can hear it as Hinata pumps her fingers into her, her thumb nudging against her clit in a way that’s not quite enough. It’s maddening.
Sakura wraps her arms around Hinata’s neck and pulls her down. They’re kissing again, Sakura more familiar with it this time, with how Hinata likes her lips open wide so she can push her tongue into her mouth. Her breasts feel warm and huge against her own and when their nipples drag against each other, she moans.
Then Hinata is pulling away and taking her fingers out of her. Before Sakura can think anything of it, Hinata lifts her glistening fingers up to her mouth and licks them.
The arousal is like a punch to the gut.
Hinata’s tongue that had been in her mouth is licking at the fingers that been inside her and her whole body is hot, her throat is dry. Hinata sticks both fingers in her mouth then, cleaning them off with a pop, then she’s putting a hand on each of Sakura’s knees and pulling them apart.
She bends down, ass in the air, and puts her face in between Sakura’s thighs.
The first press of her tongue against her clit is a shock.
Sasuke doesn’t ask for it, he doesn’t give it, and she’s never felt this before.
Hinata’s tongue is as sure as the rest of her, licking against her cunt like it had her mouth, warm and wet and so good her toes curl. The sounds of Hinata lapping up her wetness are obscene and her dark head moving between her legs is enough to make her dizzy even before Hinata’s eyes meet hers and she feels her smirk against her cunt.
Sakura curls a fist into her hair because she doesn’t know what else to do and Hinata doesn’t complain. She licks her harder and faster before shifting to push two fingers into her again. Her tongue is against her clit and her fingers are inside her and Sakura feels her orgasm building. She squirms under Hinata’s mouth, tugs too hard on her hair, but all Hinata does is hold her hips down and push deeper.
She comes with a sound she’s not sure she’s ever made before, her orgasm rolling through her body and leaving her legs shaking and her mouth panting. She’s wetter, she always gets wetter when she comes, and Hinata licks that up too before she sits back on her legs, mouth and chin still wet from Sakura, still smirking.
It takes her a while to find her voice. “You – how – you didn’t learn that with Naruto.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t I?”
At first she thinks Hinata is telling her that she and Naruto have had a threesome with some girl in the village, then she remembers Naruto’s sexy jutsu which isn’t a henge and her cheeks somehow become even warmer.
“Sasuke fucks him like that,” Hinata says. Sakura doesn’t flinch this time. “In his usual body too, of course, but Naruto loves getting fucked when he’s like that. He’s so sensitive.”
Great. If she ever slept with Sasuke again, she wouldn’t even have the comfort that sex with her, with him inside her cunt and her breasts bouncing, is something entirely different than sex with Naruto.
When he’s a girl, does Sasuke thrust steady and quiet into him? Does he hold himself up and away or collapse on top of him, pressed against every inch of skin he can touch, inelegant and desperate and wanting?
Does Sasuke only fuck Naruto in the dark?
She knows the answer. She doesn’t want to think about it.
Sakura pushes herself up and reaches for Hinata, thumbing hard at her nipple like she’d done to her, and Hinata arches into her touch. “How,” she starts, embarrassed, and bites her bottom lip. She’s never done this before.
Hinata’s expression turns teasing, but she doesn’t press. She crawls forward and turns her back to Sakura, leaning against her. She pushes off her pants and panties, so she’s as naked as Sakura is, cradled against her chest and between her legs. Hinata tilts her head back so she can speak directly into Sakura’s ear. “Touch me like you touch yourself.”
She breathes in then turns her head to kiss her. She keeps it light, mostly lip, and Hinata’s tongue darts against her lips but nothing more. She pulls Hinata more snugly against her before reaching between her legs, the angle familiar, pressing her fingers against Hinata’s clit almost the same as when she seeks relief from her own desperation.
Hinata’s wet. It’s a mess, she struggles to keep her fingers from sliding off her clit, hears the soft wet sounds as she rubs her and kisses her then lifts her other hand to cup Hinata’s breast. She’s tense in her arms, her mouth opening wider against Sakura’s mouth, panting and straining.
Sakura pinches her nipple, hard, and Hinata’s hips buck into her hand and her mouth falls all the way open as she comes and shivers in her arms. Sakura pushes her tongue into Hinata’s mouth then like she did to her, and Hinata’s nails dig into her arm as she keens into her mouth.
Her orgasm tapers off and falls back into Sakura, warm and soft and pliable. Sakura wraps an arm around Hinata’s waist and likes the way Hinata keeps her hand on her arm, like she doesn’t want to let go either.
They sit like that for a while, naked in the middle of her destroyed kitchen, their sweat cooling and their breathing smoothing.
Sakura drops her forehead onto Hinata’s shoulder. Her voice is almost too quiet when she asks, “What are we going to do?”
Hinata sighs.
“What we’ve always done,” she answers. “Make do.”