skinny love
theeflowerchild

oneshot

skinny love (n.) – when two people love each other very much, and are too shy to admit it, but they still show it

It is a quiet love that blooms between them. It is a love shared between trivial conversations, and passing intimacies. It is a love expressed through gentle stares, and timid blushes. It is an unspoken bond, tied up in history, and it is a secret that everybody knows about.

Their (finally) getting together is nothing explicit, or blatant—but it is not fleeting. It is saccharine, and concrete. It is not unlike a child falling in love for the first time. The love they share is the love that is spoken about in literature and poems, it is the love that little girls dream of, and little boys don't understand. He is her first love, and she is the first good thing he finally feels like he deserves.

It takes seven months for him to finally touch her.

Naruto touches him. He claps his shoulder with his big hands, and slaps his spine with his palm. He slaps the back of his head when he's "being a bastard," and kicks his shins at Ichiraku when he's "being a jerk." Naruto throws his arm over his shoulders and brings him close when he's being tolerable.

Naruto and Sakura touch all the time; they're affectionate like siblings. Sometimes Naruto plays with her hair; sometimes Sakura pulls at his spikes. He hugs her whenever he sees her, and sometimes she jumps on his back during training. He slings his arm around her shoulders, and swings her back and forth whenever she's cute, or funny, or anything at all. They hold each other when they're sad. On special occasions, he has seen Sakura and Naruto kiss on the lips, on the cheek, on the hand, on the temple, and it's nothing more than platonic. They cry together, laugh together, and scream together. When they sit next to each other, their thighs graze, and their arms touch.

The most him and Sakura touch is during training. Sometimes, he grazes her soft skin with his rough palms. Sometimes the tips of her leather gloves make contact with his body in a powerful thrust. His cheeks have come into contact with her hair before, which isn't as silky as he had imagined. He even—embarrassedly—touched her chest once with the back of his hand. She didn't notice.

Naruto is, inherently, his best friend; they have the undeniable bond of devoted brotherhood, but Sakura? What was Sakura to him before he left, anyway; a friend, an annoyance? She was a weakling—someone to protect, he corrected—who transitioned into one of the strongest people he knows. She is a girl who loves him irrevocably and unconditionally. She is one of his special people, but does he really know her?

A frail girl with big, innocent emerald eyes, and a fascination for the world had turned into a wise woman with enlightened eyes, and a cunning knowledge of life around her. She was always a smart girl, and possibly one of the smartest people he had ever encountered. Her grades were always a little better than his in the academy, sure, but her physical skill had never compared. Now, her brute strength surpasses his, and her acute knowledge of battle and medical prowess makes her more than an ally on the battlefield, but an asset.

Does he know this new, strong Sakura: this proud, ambitious girl taking the world by storm? Does he know this girl who is now easily considered one of the strongest kunoichi of all time? She surpassed a Sannin-turned-Hokage, and if that isn't enough, her first sensei is Hokage, and her best friend is slated to bethe Hokage. She's head of the hospital, is lined up to become head medic of ANBU, and kicked his own ass her fair share of times. Does he know this girl enough to still call her a friend, a special person, to touch her?

Sasuke blames his lack of a relationship with her on the simple fact that he hasn't really been around too much. Naruto's and his souls intermingle; no matter where they are, or who they're with, they will always be connected, but Sakura? Does he have this connection with her? He doesn't know, and he often questions it.

He often questions whether or not he even deserves this sort of connection with her, whether he deserves her open arms, and kind words after all he's put her through. She can do so much better than him as a friend, let alone a lover.

But he's leaving now, and so is Naruto, and she will be alone once more. Sure, she has Kakashi, but he's busy with his duties as Hokage, and often gets lost on the road of life (Sasuke often questioned this notion, even in his days with Orochimaru, but now, he realizes, he's planning on doing the same). She has Tsunade, and Shizune, and Ino, and Hinata, and all her other friends (Sakura is a popular one, he hears). She has the hospital, and missions with ANBU in her future, and missions with different teams because they're not genin anymore. She has so much available to her, but he knows—just like Naruto knows—that it won't be the same.

Despite his being gone for so long, they are her boys. They have always been her boys, and they will always be her boys, and her boys are leaving.

She asks, just like she always does, if she can come. She isn't begging, and this time she knows he'll come back—she doesn't have to trust him, but she does, and it causes his heart to swell—and she knows that she'll have her whole life with him around. Even if he doesn't deserve her, she deserves him, and he will always be around because of that.

"My sins have nothing to do with you," he says, and he means it. She has never been a problem in his life. She has been a cause for smiles, and laughter, and happiness, and even heartbreak, but she is the farthest thing from evil that he's ever experienced; she is fresh water, and spring flowers, and clean air, and he is a barren wasteland after war. He needs her.

Her face falls, and he thinks he sees tears in her eyes, and he almost laughs—because she doesn't get it, but he's not surprised.

With a small smile on his face, but the largest he can muster, he pushes his fingers against her forehead—her large forehead, the forehead that has caused her so much turmoil, her beautiful forehead—in a loving gesture of silent intimacy and says, "I'll see you when I'm back… and thank you." And he really, really means it.

This is the start of something that cannot be stopped.

When he returns, she's there, waiting.

The first thing he notices is that she's cut her hair. What once were messy spikes are now neat, shoulder-length tresses, with long bangs falling against her cheeks. It suits her, like most things do; in the back of his mind, he entertains the idea that she could probably do anything and he'd find it fitting.

She is the first person he looks for. Before he sees Naruto, or Kakashi, he seeks her out. He goes straight to the hospital, sure she'll be slaving over a pile of paperwork bigger than her—and he is right. There she is, sitting in her office chair, tapping her feet as she writes furiously.

The second thing he notices is the deep, purple bags under her eyes. Ironically, they compliment the green. She looks exhausted, like she may as well have been in that chair for days, doing more work than any human can possibly complete in a reasonable amount of time—but, then again, Sakura is not just any human, and Sakura is not reasonable.

She doesn't even notice him at first, and he almost frowns. He thinks that anybody could just come in the office and possibly hurt her, but then he realizes that she's so comfortable with his presence that it does not startle her in the slightest. He almost smiles.

"Sakura," he whispers.

It takes her a moment to finish scribbling whatever she is writing, but the moment she looks up her face brightens with a kind smile that sends his heart leaping. "Sasuke-kun," she quakes, and she's holding him before he can even take another step toward her.

He doesn't hug her back, of course, and he's not sure if it's because he's startled, or because he can't. Instead, he rests his chin on the top of her head and smells her hair, which smells like home. It's a gesture that she does not ignore, and hugs him even tighter.

When she finally lets go, she's still smiling and he's sure if he were anybody else, he would be too. "You've been gone for almost a year," she says.

"Aa," he hums, staring into her big, green eyes. They twinkle like stars against his nighttime.

She stares back for a moment longer before retiring back to her desk, crossing her legs and settling into a tiny, happy smile. "When did you get back?" she asks.

He shrugs. He can't take his eyes off her. Despite himself, he missed her, though he'd never say it; she's breathtaking in her wake. He missed green apple eyes and big, sparkly smiles. He missed rose-colored hair and sweet nothings he doesn't deserve.

She laughs, it sounds like bells. "I guess you were never a man of many words."

"Hn." He smirks.

"Have you seen Naruto yet?" she asks, offhandedly, already diving back into her work. "He only just got back himself—"

"I have not," he says.

She looks up from her work and he's suddenly overwhelmed with emerald. "And Kakashi?"

"No," he repeats.

It takes her a moment to understand what he's saying, but she smiles. "Oh," she breathes.

"Oh," he agrees.

They hold each other's gazes for a moment longer before Sakura smiles again, all pearly whites, and curled lips. "It's good to have you back, Sasuke-kun."

It's good to be back, he thinks.

He doesn't stay for much longer. He listens to her chatter about paperwork, and how busy the hospital has been, and all the missions she's been taking. She tells him how Naruto only came back recently, too, and that he's seeing the Hinata girl—the tiny one who's perpetually red and can barely speak, he remembers. He has vague memories of her intense stares and fainting spells brought on by the idiot he proudly calls his best friend. She laughs and smiles, and tells him about Ino possibly working at the hospital, and Shikamaru traveling to Suna a little more often than usual. His heart flutters, but he only nods his head and smirks when necessary.

It isn't much, he thinks as he leaves, but he will continue to visit her first. She will always be first.

Naruto isn't the sharpest tool in the bunch, and he can acknowledge that, but he'd have to be an idiot not to notice Sasuke's staring.

It is only a little at first. When the three of them are together getting lunch, or walking through the streets, Sasuke's eyes will flicker to Sakura. They're blank, as they always are, but nonetheless focused. If Naruto were not a ninja, he would not have noticed. It doesn't matter who is talking, his eyes will wander, if only for a second.

The first time Naruto really sees him stare is at training. She's fighting Kakashi, thrashing her fists into fertile dirt and creating gaping crevices that rival earthquakes. For a girl that looks like a ballerina, she is a warrior in battle, leaving a disaster in her wake. Her brilliant healing capabilities are almost ironic when compared to her fighting style.

Normally, Sasuke is focused in training. If someone else is fighting, he is throwing shuriken, or concentrating on his chakra. Sasuke does not waste his time watching silly, trivial battles between comrades. Sasuke doesn't waste his time, period, so Naruto is almost startled to see the boy sitting contently under the tree, eyes following Sakura's every move.

He looks at peace, really. Calm, collected, and interested. His eyes hold a sort of fascination for the pinkette, something Naruto doesn't often see flicker in his friend's eyes.

Naruto, ever the idiot that he is, interrupts his friend's focus to tease him. He regrets it later while sporting a black eye that Sakura heals. He instantly retracts his regret when he sees the flash of jealousy course through Sasuke's features as their girl gives him her undivided attention.

It is a regular occurrence for Sasuke to look at Sakura, now. They don't touch, and their conversations are a little more than scarce, but far less than frequent, and he is always looking at her.

When she smiles, his eyes are on her. When she's sad, his brow is furrowed in confusion for her. When she is speaking, he is focused on her. When she is chattering, hands flailing, he is watching her. When she is fighting, he is concentrating on her. When Naruto is talking, Sasuke's eyes are flickering toward her.

It goes without saying that Sasuke isn't a man of many words, so Naruto knows it will always been important that he focus on the boy's mannerisms. There is no way he ever could have missed his intense focus on their female teammate.

Naruto smiles as he watches and enjoys the growth of something beautiful that he's sure Sasuke doesn't quite understand yet.

Time passes quickly in the village.

Naruto is the first to marry. It's a beautiful ceremony, and Hinata is the epitome of the blushing bride. There are flowers, and kind vows, and the sweetest kiss he's ever seen two people share. The entire venue is decorated as white as snow, and the cake has orange flowers on it. It's perfect.

Shikamaru gets Temari pregnant. When Sasuke finds out, he snorts loudly, and Sakura laughs. Though the two never say anything about the matter, everyone has always known they were together, and there's no way to hide it now. Temari glows as she walks down the aisle, heavy with child, and Sasuke almost laughs when he witnesses the woman manhandle the genius boy. They're perfect for each other.

Sai and Ino marry last. The reception is beautiful, and lavender, and extravagant, and so Ino. It's ridiculously obvious that she's running the show, but Sai never seems to mind. He smiles softly as he watches the woman he loves, and, for once, it seems genuine. Sasuke hears somewhere that the sex is wild, but it's none of his business.

There are a few that marry here and there in between. He witnesses Lee and Tenten's vows, and Chouji marries a beautiful woman he doesn't care enough to get to know. He lays out handsome sums of money for all the newly weds, and doesn't say much else. Konoha is flourishing with love among the people he has grown up with, and it's soothing.

Sakura buries herself in work. He finds himself spending more and more time with her. Naruto is busy with a newly pregnant Hinata, Tsunade wanders aimlessly through towns gambling and drinking now that she's no longer Hokage, he hears Kakashi is considering settling down with a woman he doesn't know, and Ino is busy with her brand new husband, so they are the only ones left.

They get dinner together, and read together, and he'll take her to movies she wants to see. Sometimes, when he sees things that remind her of him, he'll buy them, and give her little gifts that she pretends aren't as special as they actually are. Sometimes, they'll stay late at his house, or her apartment, and he'll listen to her talk deep into the night. Sometimes he'll let her sleep on the couch; sometimes he'll carry her home. She buys him tomatoes that they eat in comfortable silences over the island in her kitchen.

She is the first person he sees when he returns from a mission, as he's always promised. She heals him so he doesn't have to go to the hospital, and makes him tea. He is the first person she sees when she returns from a mission. She goes straight to his apartment, and he makes her coffee just the way she likes it.

They fall in a routine together, and Sakura believes it's because they're the only ones left, but Sasuke knows it's because there's nobody else he'd rather be with.

He touches her now. It's feather-light touches, like the pushing away of her bangs, or the wiping of tears when she's had a long day. He'll caress her arm gently to get her attention, or place his hand on her shoulder when he's proud of her. He touches her like she'll break.

They're not together, though, he always insists—and it's true, to a degree. They are best friends, and they spend all their time together, but they are not together. He can't bring himself to claim what is rightfully his.

Sakura does not date, and Sasuke will not because he knows what he wants—which is, it always seems, what he can't have. It's sad; his inability to do anything about the warm feeling that rises from his stomach into his chest whenever he's around her. Sasuke knows that he is the reason she does not go after men, and that she's probably lonely, and desperate for affectionate companionship.

One day, when he gets back from a mission, and he's sitting comfortably on a stool in her kitchen, he approaches the topic with her. It's his fault she's lonely.

She's cut a watermelon this time. The heat is blistering at this time of the year; Konoha winters are cruel, and the summers are unbearable at best. She places a glass of iced tea in front of him and digs her spoon into the half of melon without a word.

He stares at her for a moment. She looks most beautiful like this, hair tied up tight, exposing the nape of her neck, and her collarbones. There's a film of sweat developing on her forehead, while she's only wearing a loose tank top and a pair of shorts. She looks so honest, sweating to death, chattering about something he doesn't particularly care about, but will always listen to.

She pauses for a moment, eating, and he swoops in. "Are you lonely?" he asks, almost suddenly.

She doesn't seem particularly phased by the question as she continues eating. "What do you mean, Sasuke-kun?"

He thinks for a moment, and then continues. "You're all alone."

She raises an eyebrow at him in confusion, but giggles anyway. "I'm not alone, Sasuke-kun!"

He doesn't know what to say next. He considers bringing up their friends, all happily married, expecting beautiful babies, and growing up, and how jealous she must be, but he feels that will burn her like fire more than push her to escape whatever is going on between them—as if that's what he's trying to do. He finally says, "You don't date, Sakura."

"That's correct," she says.

"Why?" he asks, carefully.

She pauses once again, and stares at him, smiling sadly. She sighs, and waves him off with a hand. "You know why, Sasuke-kun."

He does. He doesn't say anything else, and, for the first time ever, considers that maybe not being with her hurts them more than giving in.

Naruto receiving the title of Hokage is barely a surprise to anybody in the village at this point. It's more of finality than anything else.

The entire village is there, cheering him on. He looks so proud, eyes sparkling under the sun, his infamous grin spread across his face as Kakashi hands him the headpiece that he's craved to wear for so long.

Sakura weeps next to Sasuke, high on the Hokage tower as Naruto's most important people, but they are tears of joy. Every once in a while, he carefully places his hand on her shoulder, and rubs his thumb gently in circles. When Naruto's voice cracks during his "thank you"-s, Sasuke tears up a little, too.

This is one of the last milestones of their generation. Naruto will make a fine Hokage, one of the best to ever grace the mountain, and every heart in the village swells for the sun-kissed man. Sasuke is pretty sure he sees Kakashi wipe away a tear when he thinks nobody is looking.

After the ceremony, Naruto pulls him into a tight hug. Sasuke smiles the biggest smile he can muster and pats his friend on the back. Naruto laughs and cries when he hugs Sakura, and Sakura sobs into his new gowns as she holds him close. Hinata kisses him softly, her eyes so tender and loving that it almost takes Sasuke's breath away. Naruto will make a fine Hokage, and in about seven months, a fine father.

Sasuke walks Sakura home. She still shakes with sobs every once in a while, but Sasuke knows it's just her way of expressing her emotions. Sakura is a crier, whether she's happy, or sad, or surprised, or angry, tears spill from her eyes, hot and messy. He finds it endearing.

Today is an important day. Today is a day that they will never forget. Today is a day that will go down in history.

They walk into her apartment in silence and she falls into her couch, exhausted, but ecstatic. She looks at him with warm eyes and smiles softly, patting the space next to her for his company.

He sits down next to her and sighs. He can feel the confusion bubbling in his stomach for the girl next to him. His thoughts have been plaguing him harshly lately. A long time ago Sasuke had decided that it would never happen between him and Sakura; he would always be there for her, but he could never be with her. Everything had changed.

He's in a horrible mess that he's made for himself. He's not sure if he loves her, but he cares for her, and there's nobody else he can see himself with. Even despite this, he still considers staying away from her, but he knows it's inevitable.

"Today was a lot," she says quietly, running a hand through her hair.

"Aa," he agrees.

With a sigh, she stands again. "I'll make some tea," she says, but he stands quickly before she can leave.

"Sakura," he whispers.

"Sasuke-kun," she says, raising an eyebrow at his odd behavior.

It's too late to second-guess himself, now. He's unsure of what he's doing, but his relationship with her has always been a mess of confusion tied together by quiet moments in the secrecy of their own company, so it's only fitting that he should push his lips against hers in a first kiss right next to her old couch, in the privacy of her own home during their mundane routine. He's glad he chose today because it's a date he'll never forget.

It's sloppy, and a little wet, and Sasuke isn't really sure what to do with his hands. It isn't passionate as much as it is chaste, and he pulls away almost as quickly as he does it. She isn't breathless, or blushing, and he isn't embarrassed—there's no room left for embarrassment between them—or shy, but he feels something akin to a wholeness that he's never felt before.

They stand in silence for a minute that feels like forever until she erupts into laughter. It starts with a giggle that bubbles into chuckling that finishes off as hysterics.

He smiles softly as he watches her, clutching her stomach, tears gathering in her eyes, throwing her head back in mirth. He counts his lucky stars that she doesn't cry, because he's not particularly sure what he would've done in that case.

When she finally dies down, he sighs and says, "You're a piece of work."

"So I've been told," she agrees.

He clucks his tongue and rolls his eyes. "I can't give you much, you know," he admits, finally. He can't bring himself to be anything less than completely honest when it comes to her.

She raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You deserve the world," he whispers, and makes sure she's listening. He knows he can't speak much, but he'll try for her. "And I can't give you that."

"I didn't expect you to," she says.

"I will try, though," he offers proudly. "I will try to give you what I can, Sakura."

She stares at him for a moment, only to smile softly. "I can live with that."

They stand in a quiet silence for a moment longer, staring at each other. She looks at him the way Hinata looks at Naruto, with a tender and understanding love he's not sure he'll ever deserve. She finally says, "I'll go make that tea, okay?"

"Tea," he agrees.

They spend the rest of the night in silent comfort drinking tea. She falls asleep on the couch, and he covers her with a blanket before leaving.

This is the final milestone of their generation.

They don't talk about how their bond is changing, forging itself into something far different than they've both ever experienced.

Their first kiss lingers for days on end, but Sasuke can admit that his lack of intimacy with her is more from nerves than his inability. Sakura is strong, but Sasuke still has this horrible fear that he will break her, that he has broken her and she's done such a beautiful job of putting the pieces back together and he won't ruin that. He can't ruin that.

They pretend like nothing has happened at first. They tip toe around their feelings, but what is done is done, and the change is unstoppable; that kiss was a meteor to the world that is their relationship, and it will bring new life.

Sasuke is very slow, like molasses. He lacks the emotional growth everybody else had the ability to endure. He's innocent, and immature—words that aren't often used to describe him. Sakura is strong, and understanding of this, and Sakura endures. They will work; they just don't know it yet.

Despite this, he tries. He sits a little closer to her when they watch movies; his thigh brushes up against hers, his thumb grazes her palm. When she does well in training, he touches her shoulders, and the small of her back. When they eat together at the ramen stand, side by side, he'll push his bicep up against hers. When they go on long walks, he'll lock his pinky with hers for a second that feels like hours. It's small—barely anything, really—but it's a whole new land he's never visited, and Sakura is just happy to be a part of it. Sasuke is like a child, but a very patient Sakura will wait for him to grow.

Naruto is the first to notice, just like he was with Sasuke's intense stares. Their dynamic is changing obviously, even if they don't say anything about it. He's almost hurt, knowing that his friends are keeping it a secret, but maybe they're not; perhaps their tiny whispers and interlocking of pinkies is their way of telling him. He knows Sasuke almost better than he knows himself, so he takes it in stride. He's happy for them.

Sakura doesn't talk about it much, which surprises him. If it had been ten-years-earlier, Sakura would be over the moon for the brooding, dark-haired boy, chattering away about their relationship, but this is a different Sakura, Naruto remembers. This is a calm, understanding woman, rather than an excited, ignorant girl. She has grown into a gorgeous existence he's proud to call his best friend.

Not unlike Naruto becoming Hokage, Sasuke and Sakura getting together is more a finality than anything else. It was only time, and Sasuke's stubborn insecurities that stood in the way.

Kakashi notices next, and then Ino, and then Shikamaru. They don't say anything about it, because doing so would be like startling a sleeping animal. Their slow movement is better than no movement at all.

They will wait, all of them, wait for Sasuke or Sakura to come to them. Naruto knows that Sasuke will have a question eventually, and Ino knows that Sakura will, one day, have something to say. They're okay with waiting.

It's not so much attraction as it is curiosity when he stares at her.

He's attracted to her, of course. She's maybe one of the only women he's ever really felt a physical connection to, but the idea of sexuality is confusing to him, and isn't a topic he's sure he's ready to approach.

Nonetheless, he stares. He remembers a tiny girl with a flat chest and skinny, skinny arms. He remembers a girl with the stomach of a young boy, and pink hair down to her waist. He remembers a girl lacking confidence, with a large forehead, and eyes that nearly flipped up her whole face. That girl does not exist anymore.

Sakura is a woman now. She isn't very tall, still, and her breasts are only a little more than average sized, but she has deep curves and taut skin. She has toned arms, and muscular thighs, and peach colored skin stained from hours of training. She has short pink hair, and she has grown into her forehead, and her eyes are the color of broken beer bottles with speckles of yellow. She has thick eyelashes, and round cheeks, and a beautiful body that fills out her clothes. Sakura is a woman now, and it almost confuses Sasuke.

How could somebody so unsure of herself become so comfortable in her skin? Sakura has control over, and knows what to do with her body. She has an air of confidence and comfort that she did not have many years ago. She is sure in her movements, and fluid in her approach.

The beginning of their physical relationship is more of a testing of the waters than anything else. Sasuke is very new, and he'll never ask, but he's sure she is, too.

Their first few kisses are a mess. He still has no clue what to do with his hands, and it takes him a few tries to realize that he has to fit his mouth to hers for proper movement. He refuses to use his tongue, and they never last for more than a few seconds. They're always at banal moments, like when she's boiling water, or when she's fixing the couch. They're far and few, at first, and never ever in public— and they won't be for a very long time.

He figures it out, eventually. They're sitting on the couch one night, and she's reading a medical text that probably weighs more than she does, and in her focus, she is beautiful.

"Sakura," he whispers, and it takes her a moment to finally look up from her book, but when she does, he pushes his lips against hers.

It's soft, and he keeps his mouth small, and he swallowed all the saliva he could beforehand in a fit of nerves. He places both his hands on her waist, and she puts one on his cheek and one in his hair. It's not a very long kiss, and he switches pressures like he thinks he should, but when she has a fierce blush on her cheeks after he's pulled away, he knows he did well.

The kisses come more easily after that, even if they aren't frequent. He begins to allow his hands to wander carefully, and she pulls at his hair gently. Their kissing becomes comfortable, and earnest, and proper. Sasuke prides himself on a job-well-done having figured it out all by himself.

Kissing is only a start, though, and Sasuke constantly reminds himself of this.

Sex comes up often among his friends. Whenever he's with Naruto, Naruto is sharing some escapade he's had with Hinata; sometimes Sasuke questions how someone so dumb could figure out how to get somebody pregnant. Kakashi is a man of many women, and is rarely seen without his book of porn, so it's not rare for something vulgar and disgusting to spill from the older man's mouth. As far as Sasuke has heard, Sai and Ino have wild sex—but that's none of his business. Even Shikamaru has said a few words in passing about his abrasive, apparently sexy wife. Sometimes he wonders if everybody is having sex except him, but he pushes the thought aside.

Sex doesn't even occur to Sasuke for a very long time as a next step. Sex is a level of intimacy that Sasuke isn't sure he understands yet. He spent most of his life plagued with ideas of revenge and death, so, save for a few wet dreams here and there, sex wasn't the first thing on Sasuke Uchiha's mind.

He often thinks of Sakura when he thinks of sex, and what she must feel about the subject. Does she ever think of sex? Has the idea of being intimate with a man ever crossed her mind? Has the idea of being intimate… with him ever occurred to her?

Whenever he gets too wrapped up in the idea, he pushes is at away as quickly as it has entered. Sasuke cannot, will not ruin her; he is a disaster and she is everything beautiful, and he could never ruin her by taking away a flower he only assumes she has—again, not that he'll ever ask. Even if Sakura isn't a virgin, he has too much respect for her to care.

He cannot be the one to force an intimate relationship upon her. He will not be the one to begin something that cannot be returned from. Sasuke is tainted and Sakura is everything pure and he will not do to her what he does not deserve.

But then he always reminds himself that he would sure as hell make sure nobody else could, either.

They're sitting at her kitchen table, snacking on a cut up tomato when she tells him the news, "Ino is pregnant."

He looks up at her, a raised eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm surprised it took this long," she muses, smirking. "They're like rabbits."

"Like rabbits?" he asks, confused.

The look on her face is something akin to surprise that immediately turns into smugness. "Do you not know what that means?"

He doesn't dignify her with a response. Obviously he wouldn't have questioned it if he knew, she should know that.

She smirks. "You haven't heard, Sasuke-kun? The sex is wild between them."

Such vulgar language coming out of her mouth almost makes him blush, but he doesn't say anything.

She laughs. "So you have heard."

He does blush, this time.

It's not until later that night that Sasuke realizes that Sakura must be talking to Ino about sex for her to know this information as confidently as she does.

Sasuke moves in before he even knows he does.

It starts with him coming home late from missions and crashing on her couch. At first, she simply brings him a blanket, and a pillow, and gives him a kiss on the forehead she assumes he doesn't know about. It becomes a part of their routine, like anything else.

But then she tells him it's ridiculous, that she has a big enough bed, and he should just sleep in her room.

He is hesitant, at first. They still haven't spoken about the deepest form of intimacy, but that isn't what she is talking about. She is really, simply offering her bed to him. After a few more nights of stiff backs on her couch, he accepts graciously—only after missions, though, of course.

They don't touch at first. Sometimes, his feet will graze hers, or he'll wake up with her leg over one of his, but it is simply from movement during rest. Sleeping next to her isn't awkward, though; she turns her back to him, and he lies on his stomach, and they sleep comfortably under the same blanket.

It's when he comes home one night after the loss of a teammate that he needs her.

At this point, he doesn't even ask before he crawls into bed next to her. Normally, he lies down on his stomach and wanders into slumber next to her, but this night isn't normal. Sasuke is overwhelmed with emotion; he's not sure if it's for the teammate he barely knows, or because he couldn't do his job and just protect his squad.

She has his back toward him, like she usually does. It takes him a moment before he decides to lie on his side and pull her back against his chest, holding her as tightly as he can.

She wakes with a light gasp, only to realize it's him. She says nothing when he buries his face into the crook of her neck and begins to breathe softly, tickling her skin. She's afraid if she speaks, he will scare, and it will be the end of this. Sasuke moves at his own pace, and Sakura supports him without question.

After that, he holds her every night. Sometimes he pulls her back against his chest, and spoons her as tightly as he can. Sometimes she falls asleep on top of him, her face nestled in his shoulder. Sometimes she faces toward him, his chin resting atop her head. Sometimes they simply hold hands. Nevertheless, they're always touching—but, again, this is just after missions.

This begins to change. Slowly, but surely, he begins to become too lazy to return to his apartment late at night, when they've eaten dinner and began reading on her couch. It happens once in a while, and she'll invite him into the bedroom for the night. She begins to say things like, "It's cold out, Sasuke-kun," or, "You look exhausted, Sasuke-kun, just sleep here."

His clothes begin piling up in the corner of her bedroom. He leaves his toothbrush next to hers near the sink. He has his own towel for showers, and a favorite mug for his morning coffee. These once-in-a-while occurrences slowly become every-night occurrences, whether or not he's had a mission or it's too cold out.

Suddenly he begins wondering why he's even paying for an apartment he doesn't use.

He almost laughs when he's holding her one night, the nth time in a row he's slept there. She's nuzzled into his shoulder, breathing quietly, but he knows she's not asleep yet. "Sakura?" he whispers, carefully. She's cranky when she's tired.

"Yes, Sasuke-kun?" she mewls, stretching against him.

He sighs happily. "Do you want me to move in?" he asks. He lets her have the power. This isn't his decision—it never is.

She pulls away from his shoulder, and looks up at him with decadent emerald eyes. "Haven't you already?" she questions.

He does laugh this time, a deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest, and she grins wildly. "You're right," he agrees, and pulls her closer.

He sells his apartment soon after.

Hinata gives birth to a healthy, gorgeous baby boy that looks almost too much like Naruto.

Sasuke sits in the waiting room anxiously. Sakura is doing the delivery, of course; whom else can you trust with the Hokage's baby? He sits alone as the clock ticks by, and minutes from the frantic phone call from his best friend to rush to the hospital turn into hours. He's been waiting for over seven hours that feel like years when Sakura finally opens the door, grinning wildly with tears streaming down her face, looking absolutely exhausted. "Come on, Sasuke-kun," she quakes, and he follows blindly.

Naruto has tears streaming down his face, but, despite this, he looks serene. It warms Sasuke's heart to see his best friend surrounded, finally, by the family he deserves. He sees a tuff of blonde and a face stained by whiskers and he cracks a smile. "What's his name?" he asks.

"Boruto," Naruto says, but his eyes don't leave the small child. "Boruto Uzumaki."

"Congratulations," he says, and then he looks at Sakura. She's still crying, staring at the happy couple holding their beautiful, mewling baby. Sasuke considers if this is what it will feel like if they ever have a child together.

He pushes the idea aside quickly.

"They look so beautiful," Sakura whispers, coming up next to him. She wraps her arms around his waist and he lets her, putting his arm around her shoulder. Now isn't a time for secrets and privacy.

"They are," he agrees. He knows he should be looking at the baby, but he's looking at Sakura—hysterical, happy Sakura—beautiful, confusing Sakura.

"I love you," Naruto whispers, pushing kisses up against his wife's cheeks. "And I love you," he says, kissing his son's head. "I love you," he repeats, and then says it again, and again.

Sasuke isn't exactly sure what he's feeling, but he believes it's something similar when his heart constricts as Sakura holds him tighter.

Hinata giggles and smiles a matronly smile that Sasuke has never seen before. "I love you too, Naruto-kun," she says, and pushes her tired lips against his. It's a beautiful, overwhelming scene, and if Sasuke were a different man, he'd be crying, too. Instead, he smiles as big as he can, and he means it, and that's enough for his best friend.

They stand together for over an hour when Sakura decides it's time to go home. "You're going to be just fine, Hinata-chan," she says, patting the young mother's head. "The nurses will take care of you if you need anything. You did so well today."

"Thank you, Sakura-chan," she says softly, unable to take her eyes off the baby.

Sakura turns to Naruto and wraps him in the tightest hug she can, kissing the top of his head repeatedly. "You made it," she says.

"I did, didn't I?" he whispers, raspy, holding her just as fiercely. "I love you, Sakura-chan," he says.

"I love you too," she says. "And I love this little guy," she extends, turning to the newborn baby. "You'll be seeing Auntie Sakura a lot, Boruto-chan, I can promise you that."

Sasuke watches the scene fondly, and feels something bubble in his stomach that indefinable. He can't find the words to say anything, so he walks up to his best friend and brings him into a hug, patting his back. As everyone knows, Sasuke isn't a man of many words, but his actions often speak wonders.

Naruto returns the hug eagerly, crying even harder. "Bastard," he cheers, laughing.

Sasuke pulls away, rolling his eyes. "Don't curse in front of your kid, idiot. He's barely a few hours old and you're already teaching him those words?"

The blonde just cups his friend, grinning. "Thanks, man."

Sasuke smirks. "You did good," he says.

Naruto's grin simply widens in reply.

"We'll come by again tomorrow, okay?" Sakura says eagerly.

"Can't wait," Naruto whispers, but he's already wrapped up in his tired wife, and baby he already loves so, so much.

Sasuke and Sakura walk home in silence, pinkies tied together. She breaks into sobs every once in awhile, and Sasuke is sure they're honest and happy, but he can't help but feel that she might by slightly jealous, and hurt. All their friends are moving on, and it's not unrealistic that she may feel like her life is at a standstill.

And it's mostly his fault.

She's sleeping calmly one night when he, curiously, kisses her awake.

It's nearing three AM, Sasuke knows waking her is similar to waking a sleeping beast, but he cannot help himself. She mewls, and whines against his lips, but kisses him back lazily, nonetheless. When he decides she's fully awake, moving against him, he boosts himself up on top of her and kisses her even harder.

He hasn't stopped—can't stop—thinking since Naruto became a father about his failures toward her as a boyfriend—as a whatever he is to her. Sakura has waited for him, patiently, since he can remember, always. He has graciously accepted, and took advantage of this without a second thought; he could only move as fast as he could, and he was never as emotionally capable as her. He moved slowly, in his comfort zone, and she has always been there sticky with his molasses—uncomfortable, but willing.

He can give her this.

He moves against her, slowly, unsure. His lips quiver, stricken by nerves, but he persists. He carefully drags his fingertips against her shoulder, down her biceps, to her wrists, leaving a blazing trail of fire on her skin. He balances himself as properly as he can above her tiny body without focus. She settles below him, and pushes her tiny hand against his chest while the other locks his hair in a tight grip.

"Sasuke-kun," she whispers against his lips in between kisses. "What are you doing?"

He pulls away for a moment afterward, almost hurt, and stares down at her. She's evidently curious more than confused or upset, which is a relief to him. Her eyes are big and green, and full of wonder, her cheeks flushed pink, her lips parted, and she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "I'm not sure," he admits. He has no clue what he's doing; it's mostly basic instinct, with spaces filled in by assumption.

She smiles below him and a facial expression has never made his heart beat so fast. He takes this as confirmation that he's doing something right.

He pulls her back into a soft, gentle kiss that slowly turns into something fiery and new. His hands wander under her shirt, careful to keep from her bra at first, and his tongue runs against her bottom lip; she's nearly surprised at the intrusion, but it's enjoyable. When Sasuke sets his mind to something, he always comes through strong, and this kiss is no exception.

"You can touch me, if you want," she whispers against his lips as his wandering hands avoid a private spot. He hesitates for a moment before his hands wander carefully to her bra.

She gasps softly at the sudden contact, and he blushes furiously; he's never touched her so intimately, and it doesn't occur to him yet that there's more to explore beyond her breasts, even. He squeezes them softly, and the moan that escapes her lips sends a shock through his body he cannot deny. He hardens at her sound, and groans softly.

He strips her of her loose shirt very slowly, and is met with her peachy skin. It isn't the first time Sasuke has seen her topless; her clothes have been ripped in battle before, and she has changed in front of him during missions since they were thirteen, but her chest was always in tight bindings, and he was never really paying much attention. This time, he is taking in every aspect of her, from the beauty mark next to her navel, to the tautness of her stomach, to the swell of her breasts, right up to her protruding clavicles and sharp shoulders.

Sasuke has never told her she's beautiful, but Sakura can immediately tell by the way he looks at her, soaks her in like a dry towel, that he finds her attractive. She blushes prettily. It's reassuring enough; she's learned to read Sasuke better than anyone, she thinks, and his actions and reactions often speak louder than anything he could ever say.

He's staring down at her, eyes dark with something that looks like lust, and she begins to feel something deep in her abdomen that she's learned to push aside in the past. "I can take my bra off," she mentions softly, indicating the beige support wrapped around her chest.

He turns pink again, and it's charming and silly at the same time. She almost laughs, but fears it will scare him away. He takes his time with the idea, scanning her over a few more times, before nodding his head slowly.

She immediately puts her hands behind her back and unhooks the offending object, releasing her breasts before him. They're average, like he's always thought, but perky. The cool air creates gooseflesh across her chest, causing her nipples to flare, pretty and pink. The pale pink flush turns red on his cheeks as he stares at her, the most naked he's ever seen a woman before, and his breath gets caught in his throat.

She notices his freezing and gently cups his cheek, smiling softly. "Are you alright?" she asks. She won't push him, and if this is too much for him, they can stop and go back to sleep.

He shakes his head, his bangs falling into his eyes, and smiles softly in return. He leans into her touch, feeling her warm hand against his hot, hot skin. "I'm fine," he repeats softly. "How could I not be?" he asks, and presses a kiss against her palm.

Her eyes widen a fraction and sparkle when she smiles, and it warms his heart in a far different heat than what he's been feeling.

His hands wander to her breasts, the pad of his thumb running over her pert nipple. She shivers under his touch, and moans softly into his ear; as much as this is his first time doing this, this is her first time being touched like this. His hands are rough against her velvet skin; he thinks about how different it feels from her calloused hands, and sun-damaged arms. She feels cold to his touch; he pushes his body against her to warm her as best as he can, squeezing her chest in his hands.

"Sasuke-kun," she gasps, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He takes the opportunity to trail wet kisses down her neck.

Hearing her say his name, mewl for his touch, riles him up more than anything else. He runs his tongue against her clavicle and, without even thinking, grinds his sex against hers.

She moans, loudly, and nibbles on the shell of his ear for restraint. He grinds into her again, slowly, and again when she moans positively into his hair. He feels like his skin's boiling, and suddenly the fear of her being cold dissipates as they share body heat. He knows this feeling, now, the feeling of being so close; this is the feeling he gets when he wakes up from wet dreams before he explodes into an ecstasy that is short lived and never worth the clean up.

He rolls off of her before he's too close, because this isn't his intention. He lies on his back and stares at the ceiling and his body whines from the loss of her. She is breathing harshly next to him, evidently spent, and a part of him feels like he's done something wrong—that is, until she asks,

"Do you want to?" It's a whisper into the night, so small and gentle, that if his ear hadn't been as well trained as it was, he would have missed it. It isn't demanding, or nervous, but earnest, and inquisitive.

He's not sure if she can see him, but he nods a small nod next to her. The air stills to a quiet he's not used to, comfortable and soothing. He sits up and takes his shirt off, exposing alabaster skin and taut muscles from years of dedication, and then Sakura tugs off her shorts. All that's left is a pair of boxers and a pair of tiny, pink panties.

Sasuke turns to her and smiles softly. "Are you sure?" he asks, hesitant.

She bats her eyelashes and smiles right back. Her visage is luminescent in the dark room, the only light available from the moon casting shadows on her round face. He's never wanted her more than right now. "Are you sure?" she asks.

"Yes," he says, and he means it.

With that, she pushes her panties down her legs and exposes a tiny tuff of curly, pink hair. She throws them on the floor, and, if there were ever a time to be shy, it'd be now, but she isn't; she's confident in her body, and in him seeing her. The comfort surrounds them and he, too, exposes himself by ridding of his underwear to the floor.

There's another moment of silence between them where neither one is exactly sure what to do. He thinks to himself about what he's heard about sex, and first times, and foreplay and nothing comes to mind besides either drunken, or disgusting conversations with Naruto about sex-toys, and tongues. He's not sure he's ready to put his tongue anywhere other than her mouth just yet, but his fingers occur to him to ready her for his sex whether she needs it or not.

He pushes himself on top of her, and carefully runs his hand down her side, all the way to her waist, and then down between her thighs. Carefully, he fumbles with his fingers between her legs, eliciting a soft cry. He rubs a finger up and down her slit, and he feels her heat. She's wet, and warm, and slick against his fingers when he enters her, clinging to his digits. He begins pumping into her, stretching her, slowly and carefully. He's never done this before, but it comes to him easily; he finds the nub that Naruto has told him about so many times, and carefully runs his thumb against it.

She responds with a low moan against his ear—it's different than the ones from before, guttural, and honest. She arches into his hand, her thigh grazing his building erection. He growls in her ear at the contact; he's so close to her that he can almost feel the warmth against his member. It causes him to quiver, and the nerves inside him to wash away with the feeling of lust that overcomes.

She feels the friction build between her legs; she feels like she's going to overflow as he pulses into her, slowly rubbing her bud. "Sasuke-kun," she moans. "Sasuke-kun, please."

He pauses for a moment and searches for her eyes with his own. "Are you ready?" he asks.

She nods her head and it takes him barely a second to position the tip of his erection at her slit. He pauses, and waits for her okay, and then he enters her.

Sasuke has felt many things in his life, despite what people say. He has felt unrealistic anger, and unrelenting sadness. He has felt unforgiving guilt, and deplorable grief. He has had days where he could not get up in the morning due to the heaving weight on his shoulders, and he has felt laughable confusion in his mind over what is right and what is wrong, but nothing—nothing he has felt has felt quite like this.

Her core tightens against him like a slick vice, quivering as he slowly pushes into her. The feeling is almost unreal; a part of him feels like he's barely there, like his mind truly can't focus on the beautiful woman under him moaning out his name. The ecstasy builds inside him like a bubble, ready to pop as he finds a comfortable enough pace for both of them.

She bucks her hips against his once he feels more comfortable, and the sensations come over him like heavy waves against warm skin. He kisses her, and kisses her, and kisses her like there's no tomorrow, groaning against her lips as he quickens his pace.

The act doesn't last more than a few minutes, but it feels like forever. Being inside her, so intimately, the closest one can be to a person, is another feeling he's never, ever felt before, and he's almost sure there's nothing he ever will feel like this. His mind uses the words making love and, for once, he doesn't push his thoughts to the back.

His release is like a heavy punch in the gut as he says her name for the first time. He comes before her, his face twisted in ecstasy, growling into her hair. He rides his orgasm into her, pushing his wetness deep inside her, and she comes shortly after in long, intense waves of euphoria.

He's exhausted after, like he's been training for hours. He stays inside her for a few moments longer, she below him, spent. She looks beautiful, her hair limp around her like a halo, her eyes dull with exhaustion. Sasuke often finds that she outdoes herself every time he sees her, and that he doesn't think there will come a day where he doesn't find her more and more beautiful.

He lays down beside her a moment later, still warm from the act. She cuddles into his side, naked and sore, but the smile he feels against his chest makes his heart swell with the idea that he's finally done something right.

His heart nearly stops though when, for the first time since he's returned, she admits, "I love you, Sasuke-kun."

He doesn't respond, not yet, but when he pulls her closer to him, kisses her hair, and nods his head, somehow, that's enough.

Their relationship changes so quickly after the act that he doesn't feel like he can catch up.

Still, he tries, because, even if he doesn't say it often, all he wants is for Sakura to be happy. If he can push himself a little harder with his training, or with his studying, or with his missions, he can push himself a little harder for her—and, it goes without saying, it's not without reward.

When she looks up at him, eyes twinkling, and mouth curved into an intimate smile, he knows that whatever he's doing is worth it.

More than this, he's fascinated with her body, and she allows him to quench his interest. Sex becomes more of a learning process for him than anything else, the study of affectionate confidentiality, and she comes to enjoy the way he learns to touch her. He tests her with soft caresses, and runs his fingers in different places. He kisses the corners of her mouth, and the tips of her ears, and the inside of her thighs. He plays with his fingers between her legs, and sprawls his hands out on her stomach, and intertwines their fingers. He runs his tongue along her jaw, and looks her in the eye when they make love. He has become interested in pleasing her, and she does not complain.

Months pass, and their relationship flourishes like a flower in the spring, and she easily assuages his fears with her tiny smiles, and soft words. What's a normal pace for anybody else is far too fast for Sasuke, but for Sakura, he will do anything. He begins to cope with the idea that, maybe, after so long, it's okay that she'd do anything for him, too.

So then he can't imagine why he's still fumbling with the ring settled deep, deep in his pocket having bought it almost three-weeks ago.

She's hours deep into her medical textbook, and what was supposed to be a quiet few minutes of reading before dinner has stretched into over an hour of her nestled between his legs, back against his chest, reading about something he's sure he'll never understand. She looks beautiful, hair behind her ears, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and he can't imagine a better time than now.

He just can't bring himself to remove the damn ring from his pocket.

It's perfect, really. Many of their most important moments have been shared in her living room over this trivial, horrifically upholstered green couch.

The gold feels cool against his fingers as he twists it, careful not to make an apparent sound. She hasn't noticed yet, though, so he's not particularly worried. It's not like him to be this afraid.

But, then again, this is commitment he's talking about.

He can't help the groan that escapes his lips.

"Is something wrong?" she asks distractedly, not even bothering to look up from her book. She looks so perfect, nestled into him, consumed with what she loves most.

He sighs. "I'm fine."

"Alright," she says, and doesn't push him, never pushes him—which is one reason why he loves her so much.

There are so many reasons, really, even if he can't say them.

They sit in silence for a few more moments, and every time he opens his mouth, he closes it just as quickly. He can't help, but think himself a baby.

"Are you sure nothing's wrong?" she asks again.

"I'm sure," he says.

"You're fidgety," she states, and he's sure she's frowning.

"Is that so?" He leans his head back against the arm of the couch, careful not to disrupt their position.

She doesn't bother responding, continuing her reading.

The silence is suffocating.

He doesn't know what overcomes him, but he blurts out her name, finally, after a few moments of air pressing up against his jugular not unlike a knife.

"Sasuke?" she replies with a small smile, as if his stress is comical.

"Do you…" he trails off, searching for the words. He takes a deep, deep breath, runs a hand through his hair, and gives in. "Are we going to get married?" he asks, suddenly. It comes out so quickly he can barely believe himself; it's not exactly how he planned on doing it, but it gets the job done.

It's not a spectacle, but neither are they. He doesn't go down on one knee, or even offer her the ring at the start. There's no long-winded speech about his love for her, or even a word about how much he cares, but there never is. There relationship is a story of candid moments, and sweet nothings, and this is no exception.

He hears her breath catch in her throat, but is relieved when she decides to play along. "I suppose we could," she whispers.

He shuffles with the ring in his pocket before pulling it out and wrapping his arms around her, placing it in front of her line of sight. He can't really see her, but he knows she's probably tearing up, smiling widely. "I guess this is yours, then," he offers.

She carefully takes it from his hands, investigating it. It's a tiny, sparkly diamond, set in a white gold band. There's no special engravings, or giant settings, or pretty gemstones, and that's okay.

"It's perfect," she says, and slips it onto her ring finger. She glances at it for a moment, and her smile widens. "It's perfect," she repeats.

He kisses the top of her head, and says nothing more. She leans back into him, and consumes herself in the book once again, and she's right:

It's perfect.