the swing creaks (after all these years)

rating: g
genre: romance
pairings: inosaku
POV: Sakura
other notes: Rae said, "How about some InoSaku when they're old ladies and still so so in love with each other after all these years?"
word count: 519

The swing creaks with their gentle rocking and, really, they have grandchildren for this, Sakura doesn't know why they don't make more use out of having a passel of grandchildren from whom they could be eliciting household chores that are better off foisted onto some young person with more energy and knees that don't creak worse than even this porch swing.

The sun is heavy and low in the sky, drawing honey over the curve of the tomato plants Ino has been coddling and the big sunflowers that are only just starting to shoot up and the curve of Ino's nose as she sleeps.

Ino's hair, in this light, is almost the gold of their youth again, and as soft as ever as Sakura draws her fingers through it, her head a familiar weight in Sakura's lap.

The evening songbirds are starting to harmonize and Sakura can hear the usual evening foot traffic making its way home echoing around from the front of the house into their little green oasis.

"Hm," Ino hums, "is it time for dinner, then?"

Sakura tugs gently on a curl. "It's time for you to get up, at least. Your back isn't going to thank you for that nap."

Ino rumbles out a laugh that is as much sunlight as sound. "The price of getting old."

"I never thought we'd make it here," Sakura says, the thought startled out of her by the soft breeze and the buzzing bees and the familiar press of Ino, close and safe and hers.

"Didn't you?" Ino asks, cracking open one clear blue eye for a moment, before letting it slip back closed. "I always knew. But, then, I've always been the clever one."

She's going for careless, but the twist of her mouth is smug in the way that only Ino can be: pleased with herself and pleased with the universe for accepting her demands, leaving Sakura charmed down to her toes.

Sakura leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the familiar soft blush of Ino's lips.

Ino pushes up into it, pushing their mouths into a single, matching smile.

Ino's eyes are as blue as they have ever been when they pull apart like the tide, and Sakura thumbs the lines framing them.

"You're very lucky to have such a beautiful wife," Ino tells her solemnly.

Sakura smiles. "Yes," she agrees.

And then she stands abruptly, almost dumping Ino out of the swing, and runs, cackling, for the kitchen.

"Last one there has to cut up the onions!" she yells behind her, her feet thumping to the tune of Ino's dismayed squawking.

Very lucky, indeed.

Behind her, Ino is scrambling to catch up, the both of them too old for this nonsense but refusing to ever admit it, and the sun is setting.

Maybe tomorrow they will round up Sarada's two youngest to help with the weeding, but for now, there are onions to cut and a race to win.

Sakura laughs.

Who could have ever expected they would make it here?

Sakura will never tell her, but Ino is usually right in the end.