It's no exaggeration to say that Naruto is on cloud nine.
He's never felt like this before. He's never felt so free, so light, so happy. It's a happiness that scares him, a happiness that he's afraid is too good to be true.
But it is true. It's real. It's happening.
He drives back to Shikamaru's house, and walks through the door with a smile on his face that's so wide, his cheeks hurt.
Shikamaru takes one look at him, and raises an eyebrow.
"Looks like you worked some things out," he says.
"That I did," Naruto replies, feeling a flush of warmth spread through him at the memory of his and Sasuke's kiss.
Temari and Shikadai are sitting at the dining table, Temari working on her laptop, Shikadai playing a video game on his phone.
Naruto should feel a little embarrassed, being this happy. He's practically vibrating with joy. But he doesn't. He feels like he's about to burst out of his skin.
"I'm in love," he declares.
"You've been in love for years, idiot," Shikamaru replies, shaking his head.
"Yeah, well, it's different now," Naruto says.
"What's different?" Temari asks, looking up from her laptop.
"Sasuke and I are together," Naruto announces.
Temari blinks at him. Shikamaru doesn't even blink. Shikadai looks up from his phone, his eyebrows raised.
"Sarada's dad?" he asks.
"The very same," Naruto replies, still grinning.
"Well, that's unexpected," Temari says.
"It's really not," Shikamaru mutters.
"Shikadai, would you mind giving us a minute?" Temari asks, a pointed look at her son.
Shikadai sighs and gets up, his phone still in his hand.
"I'll be upstairs," he says, walking past them, his footsteps heavy on the stairs.
Shikamaru goes and sits down next to Temari, a look of resignation on his face.
"Alright," he says, gesturing for Naruto to continue. "Start talking."
And so, Naruto talks.
He tells them everything.
It's mostly for Temari's sake, really. Shikamaru knows the whole sordid story.
But he tells them about his and Sasuke's history, their friendship, the way it crumbled, the years of estrangement. He tells them about how their feelings never went away, about how those feelings only grew stronger, the weight of unspoken words between them, a silent, aching yearning. He tells them about the night before, their confession, the way they fell into each other's arms. He tells them about their plans for the future.
It's a lot. It's a hell of a lot. But the more he talks, the lighter he feels.
"So," he says, when he's done. "That's... where we're at."
"Jesus Christ, Naruto," Temari says.
"Yep," Naruto agrees.
She's the first outsider he's talked to about this. The first person who didn't know them back in the day. It feels good to have her opinion.
"You've got your work cut out for you," she says.
"That's putting it lightly," Shikamaru adds.
"It'll be worth it," Naruto says, with a certainty that's rooted in his bones. "I know it'll be worth it."
"If you say so," Temari says. "How about your children? How do they feel about this?"
"I don't know yet," Naruto says. "I mean, Boruto was sure pissed the last time I saw him, so I imagine he's still pissed."
"Yeah, well, teenagers are like that," Shikamaru says. "They're unpredictable. It's part of the package."
"He'll come around," Temari adds. "Give him some time. It's a big change. A big shock. But he's a good kid. He'll understand."
"Thanks," Naruto says, feeling a wave of relief wash over him.
If Temari is saying that, it must be true. She's one of the most practical, sensible people he's ever met.
"So when are you gonna tell them?" she asks.
"Tomorrow," Naruto replies. "I'm gonna meet up with them, and... lay it all out there. See what happens."
"Well, good luck," she says. "I hope they don't rip your head off."
"Thanks," Naruto says.
He means it. He has a feeling he's going to need all the luck he can get.
-
Naruto wakes up the next morning, and lies on the couch for a while, looking at the ceiling. It's a gray, overcast day. Rain is pouring outside.
It's fitting, somehow. Like the universe is trying to mirror his mood.
Because he's nervous. Really fucking nervous.
He doesn't know what to expect from today.
It's the weekend, so the kids are both home. He texts Hinata, asks if it's okay for him to come over, to talk to them. She texts him back a few minutes later, a simple, "Of course."
He rushes through his morning routine, splashing water on his face, brushing his teeth, pulling on a pair of jeans and a hoodie.
He's just about to leave when he gets a text. It's from Sasuke.
Sasuke: Good luck today.
Naruto smiles.
Naruto: thanks. i'm gonna need it.
Sasuke: You'll be fine. Just be honest. They love you.
Naruto's throat tightens.
Naruto: thanks. for everything.
Sasuke: Right back at you.
Sasuke: Come over after? Sarada's gonna be home, but we can talk.
Talk. Naruto sighs, his heart skipping a beat at the thought. Just being able to talk with Sasuke, openly and freely, is enough to make him feel lightheaded.
Naruto: sure thing. can't wait.
Naruto: <3
There. A thirty-eight year old man, sending a heart emoji.
Sasuke sends him a thumbs up emoji.
That's better.
He puts his phone in his pocket, and takes a deep breath. He feels better. He feels stronger.
He's got this.
He drives to Hinata's, and the whole way there, he practices what he's going to say. He rehearses it in his head, over and over. But he knows that none of it will matter. When he's standing in front of them, looking at their faces, all the words will leave him.
He'll just have to speak from the heart.
He pulls up in front of the house, and sees Hinata's car in the driveway. Boruto and Himawari's bikes are leaning against the garage. His kids are in there.
He gets out of the car, and walks up to the front door. He hesitates for a second, his hand on the doorknob. Then he takes a deep breath, and opens it.
Himawari is in the living room, on the floor, drawing in a sketchbook.
"Dad!" she exclaims, jumping up and running to him. She gives him a hug, and he holds her tight for a second, breathing in the scent of her hair.
"Hey, sweetie," he says.
When she pulls back, he can see the signs of a sleepless night on her face. She looks tired, and a little sad.
He sees Hinata in the kitchen, and she gives him a small, sympathetic smile.
"Where's Boruto?" he asks, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He already knows.
"In his room," Himawari says, her voice small.
"I'll go get him," Hinata offers.
"It's okay," he says. "I'll go."
He walks down the hall, and stops in front of Boruto's door. It's closed. He knocks, and there's no answer.
He knocks again, a little louder this time.
"Boruto," he says, his voice gentle. "It's me. Can we talk?"
He can hear the shuffle of feet, then the lock on the door clicks open.
The door opens a crack, and Boruto's face appears. He looks... rough. His hair is a mess, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He's been crying. And Naruto's heart just about breaks.
But to his surprise, there isn't any anger in Boruto's eyes. There isn't any of the rage from their last conversation. There's just resignation. A sad, weary resignation.
"Hi, Dad," Boruto says, his voice flat.
"Hey," Naruto says. "I wanted to talk to you and Himawari. Together. I guess I'd like your mom to be there, too. I need to explain some things."
Boruto just shrugs, a defeated little gesture.
He follows Naruto out into the living room. Himawari is sitting on the couch, her sketchbook still in her lap, but she's not drawing. She's watching them, her big, blue eyes wide and serious.
Hinata comes in from the kitchen and sits down in one of the armchairs. She's a silent, supportive presence. He knows she is giving him the space to do this, to be the one to explain himself to their children.
Naruto sits down on the couch, between Boruto and Himawari. He takes a deep breath, and looks at them. His children. The two most important people in the world.
"There's no easy way to say this," he starts, his voice a little shaky. "So I'm just... going to say it."
He can feel their eyes on him. The room is silent, except for the sound of the rain outside.
"You know that me and your mom have been sleeping in separate rooms for a while now," he says. "You know that we've been... having a hard time. For a long, long time."
They both nod.
"And the reason for that... the reason is complicated," he says. "But the simplest way to explain it is... my heart has always belonged to someone else."
He sees Boruto flinch. Himawari's hands tighten on her sketchbook.
"I love your mother," he says, looking at Hinata, and he means it. "I love her very much. She's my best friend, and she's been the best partner I could have ever asked for. And she's the best mother any kid could ever ask for. And I am so, so sorry that I wasn't the husband she deserved."
He looks back at the kids.
"I tried," he says, his voice cracking. "I swear to you, I tried so hard to be the man she needed me to be. To be the husband and father you both deserved. To pretend, even after the two of us had decided to separate, to keep things as normal as I could for you."
"We didn't want to worry you," Hinata chimes in. "We wanted you to focus on being kids. You didn't need to be thinking about adult things. It was really important for your dad to stay in your lives as much as he could."
Naruto nods. Hinata is right.
"It wasn't fair to you," he says. "To have to grow up in a home like that. And I'm sorry. We're both sorry."
"So you're gonna date Sarada's dad?" Himawari asks, her voice timid.
Naruto looks at her. So Boruto must have told her. He's glad that he didn't completely isolate her. That he gave her some sort of explanation.
"Yes," Naruto says.
"But how can you date Sarada's dad if you and Mom are still married?" Himawari asks.
"Me and your mom are going to get a divorce," Naruto says. "It's not a recent decision. It's something we've been talking about for a while now. We're just... waiting for the right time."
Hinata nods, a confirmation of his words.
"We wanted you to be old enough to understand," she says.
"We didn't want to spring it on you, all of a sudden," Naruto adds.
"When's the right time?" Boruto asks, his voice quiet.
"When we're sure that you're both doing okay," Hinata replies. "It's important to us that you're both doing okay, before we make a change like that."
Boruto frowns.
"But we've been doing okay for a long time," he says. "And you two were never... happy together. I know that. It was... obvious. You've always been sleeping in different rooms, and you've never... you've never been like other parents. Other parents don't sleep in separate rooms. They either get a proper divorce, or they are happy, and they stay together. There's no... no middle ground."
Naruto looks at Hinata. She seems to be thinking, her hands clasped together, her lips pressed in a thin line.
"You're right," she says. "Things have been like this for a long time. Maybe too long."
She sighs, a weary, tired sound.
"Maybe we should have told you sooner," she says.
"You're both old enough," Naruto adds. "Old enough to understand, old enough to be mature about it."
"I asked your dad to move out," Hinata says, a note of apology in her voice.
Naruto glances over at her. He hadn't expected her to say that.
"It was you?" Boruto asks, his eyes wide.
"Yes," Hinata replies. "And that's not because I didn't want your father in your lives. I did. It's just... sometimes, it's better if a person has their own space. So they can feel comfortable being their true self. Being who they're supposed to be. Your dad can't do that when he's living here. He needs his own space."
"Oh," Boruto says, his voice small.
Naruto feels something twist inside him. He wishes he could read what was going through his son's mind. Wishes he could pull the thoughts straight out of his head and look at them one by one, figure out which ones he has the power to fix, and which ones he has already ruined. Every second Boruto is silent feels like another second Naruto is losing him.
"I get it if you don't want to see me for a while," Naruto says, his heart aching. "If you're mad at me, or if you're just... sad. That's totally normal. Just please... give me a chance. Give me a chance to show you that nothing is going to change. Between me and you, or me and your mom. I'm always going to be here for you. I'm always going to be your dad."
Boruto's lips tremble.
"We do," Himawari says.
Naruto and Hinata both look at her.
"We do want to see you," she says.
Boruto stares at the floor, shoulders hunched, jaw tight. Naruto feels his heart climb into his throat. This is it. This is the moment. He can practically feel the weight Boruto is carrying, the mix of anger and confusion and loyalty and fear. Naruto wants to reach out and hold him. He wants to give him space. He wants to fix everything all at once. He wants to be someone his son can still trust.
"I mean, yeah," he mumbles. "Yeah, I want to see you. Obviously."
Naruto almost sags with relief. It washes over him so hard it makes him lightheaded, like someone has just grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back from a cliff.
"Oh, thank God," he says, rubbing a hand over his face. "You have no idea how good that is to hear."
"But can I ask a question?" Boruto asks, still staring at the floor.
"Anything," Naruto replies.
There is a beat of silence. Naruto can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Whenever Boruto gets that look, shoulders stiff, voice taut, it reminds Naruto of when he was small and trying not to cry. It hurts in the same way every time. Naruto braces himself. He can feel something coming, something sharp.
"Why him?" Boruto asks, looking up. There's a spark of anger in his eyes. "What does Sarada's dad have that Mom doesn't?"
"Nothing," Naruto says, the answer immediate. "Nothing at all. That's not what this is about. This isn't... some kind of competition, where I chose him over her."
Boruto nods, looking like he's absorbing that.
"So why him?" he asks.
Naruto takes a deep breath. His chest aches. This is the question he knew would come. The one he has never been good at answering, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. How do you explain something that has lived under your ribs since you were nineteen? How do you tell your son that some things do not begin or end, they just exist, like gravity or the ocean or a wound that never healed right?
"Why do you love Sarada?" he asks.
"What?" Boruto replies, a flush spreading across his cheeks.
"Sarada," Naruto says. "Why do you love her? What is it about her that you love so much?"
Boruto stares at him. He stares at the floor.
"Well?" Naruto prompts.
"She's... amazing," Boruto says.
"What else?" Naruto asks.
"She's funny," Boruto continues. "She's smart. She's creative. She's pretty."
Naruto nods.
"Are there other girls at school that are pretty?" he asks.
Boruto looks up at him.
"Sure," he says. "Yeah."
"Other girls that are smart?"
"Yeah."
"Funny?"
"Yeah."
"But you love Sarada," Naruto says.
"That's right," Boruto replies.
"So why not one of those other girls?"
"Because..." Boruto starts.
"Because...?"
"Because... Sarada is Sarada," Boruto finishes, with a shrug. "It's... impossible not to love her."
Boruto opens his mouth, closes it again. His brows crease. Naruto watches him struggle for words, watches the realization begin to form before Boruto can shape it.
"It's the same with me and Sasuke," he says. "When you love someone, you just... love them. They're not a choice, or a decision. They're just... the person you fall in love with. It's fate, I guess. It's destiny."
Boruto stares at him. He's quiet for a long moment. Then he nods, and looks down at his lap.
"Okay," he says, his voice barely a whisper.
"I'm so sorry," Naruto says, tears burning in his eyes. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, Dad," Himawari says, and wraps her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight.
"Thanks, sweetie," he replies, squeezing her back.
He lets go, and turns to Boruto.
"Come here, kiddo," he says, holding out his arms.
"You're such a sap," Boruto mutters, but leans forward and lets Naruto hug him.
"I'm gonna hug you whether you like it or not," Naruto says.
"This is abuse," Boruto protests, his voice muffled against Naruto's shoulder.
Naruto hugs him for a long time. Finally, he lets him go, and wipes a tear from his eye.
"Are you guys okay?" he asks.
"I'm okay," Himawari says, nodding.
Boruto just shrugs.
"It'll take some getting used to," he says.
"Take as much time as you need," Hinata offers. "Just know that we'll be here for you, no matter what."
"Yeah," Naruto agrees.
"So," Himawari says. "Does that mean you'll be moving in with Sarada's dad?"
Boruto chokes on air.
"Hima! Of course he wouldn't—"
"Yeah, I will," Naruto says.
Hinata's eyes widen. Boruto's mouth falls open.
"WHAT?!" he yells.
"We talked about it, and we think it's best if we move in together," Naruto says, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Dad! You can't!"
Boruto looks positively frantic.
"She's my girlfriend! You cannot possibly live at the same place as my girlfriend!"
Naruto has never seen his son this red. He's practically glowing.
"Boruto," he says, struggling to hide his smile. "I'm only moving in after Sarada's mom comes back, and she goes back to staying there. I'm not going to be living in the same house as her. It'll just be her dad and me."
"Oh," Boruto says, the fight leaving his body. "Okay. Yeah, that's fine."
Naruto sneaks a look at Hinata. Her lips are pursed, like she's trying not to laugh.
It's new information for her, too. He should have given her a heads-up. But she seems to be taking it well.
"Well," she says. "Congratulations."
Her voice is calm, but Naruto can hear the emotion beneath it. It's bittersweet. The end of an era.
"Yeah," Naruto says.
They share a look. One of acceptance. One of closure.
"But you'll still come over all the time, right?" Himawari asks.
"Of course," Naruto replies.
"Whenever you want," Hinata adds.
"And we'll have our regular dinners," he says. "The four of us. Like we used to."
"That would be nice," Hinata says, and she smiles. A genuine smile.
"Yeah," he agrees.
"Okay, Dad," Himawari says.
Naruto looks at her, and can't help the swell of pride in his chest.
"I think that's enough heavy stuff for today," he says.
"Agreed," Boruto says. "Man, I need to talk to Sarada."
"I'm actually headed over there right now," Naruto says, a little sheepish. "To, uh. See Sasuke. You could probably come along, if you wanted."
"Really?" Boruto asks, brightening.
"Really," Naruto replies.
"Sweet," Boruto says.
He looks at Hinata.
"Is it cool, Mom? Can she come over later today?"
"That's fine," she replies.
"Thanks," Boruto says.
Naruto stands up.
"Thank you, Hinata," he says, and he means it. She has always supported him. Even in the toughest times.
"No problem," she replies.
She gives him a knowing look. One that tells him she's got his back, no matter what.
"You coming, Boruto?" he asks.
"Yeah," his son says, and gets to his feet.
They walk to the car in silence. Not uncomfortable silence. Not quite comfortable either.
Just the quiet that fills the space when two people are sorting out all the feelings they have not found words for yet.
Naruto unlocks the car. Boruto gets in. The click of the doors feels too loud.
For a moment, Naruto just sits there, hands on the wheel, breathing in the stillness. He keeps expecting Boruto to say something. Ask something. Accuse him of something. But the boy only stares out the window, his expression unreadable.
Naruto starts the engine.
They pull out of the driveway.
A few minutes pass. Houses blur by. Naruto's heart pounds in his ears. He's waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Finally, Boruto sighs.
"Dad."
Naruto grips the wheel. "Yeah?"
Boruto stays quiet for a long time. He hesitates. It hits Naruto then, harder than any punch: Boruto is scared too. Scared of hurting him. Scared of being honest. Scared of all the things he does not understand.
"I'm trying," Boruto says. His voice cracks in the middle. "I'm really trying to get it. Everything you said. Everything Mom said. I'm trying to be okay with it."
Naruto swallows.
"I know you are."
"But I keep thinking about it," Boruto continues. "About what you did back then. About how you cheated on Mom." His voice tightens. His hands clench in his lap. "And I just... I didn't know how to deal with that."
Naruto's stomach twists.
There it is. Not anger, or disgust. Something worse.
"It messed me up, Dad," Boruto admits. "I kept thinking... if you hurt her like that once, what if you did something like that again. I didn't want to think you were that kind of person."
Naruto's throat tightens painfully.
"I'm not," he whispers.
"I know." Boruto's voice is soft. Honest. "I know you're not. Not anymore. Mom explained it. Sarada explained it. And you explained it too, when you talked to us. I get that you were young. And stupid. And messed up. And that you were trying to do the right thing after."
He finally looks at Naruto.
"But it hurt," Boruto says. "It hurt a lot. Because I kept thinking you were perfect. And then suddenly you weren't. And I didn't know what to do with that."
Naruto feels like he might break. He wants to reach out, but he keeps his hands on the wheel, because anything else might shatter him completely.
"I'm not perfect," he says quietly. "I never have been."
"I know that now," Boruto replies, and there is no anger in it.
They stop at a red light.
"But when you told us everything today," Boruto continues, "and when Mom backed you up, and when Himawari said she still wanted to see you... I realized something."
Naruto waits.
"I was scared of losing you," Boruto says. "More than anything. I didn't know how to have a dad who wasn't perfect. But I guess... I guess I'd rather have a dad who's a little messed up, and honest about it, than a dad who's trying too hard to be someone he isn't."
These words seem much too grown-up for a sixteen-year-old. They come out measured and sure. Naruto feels like he is being offered something fragile and beautiful and impossible to refuse.
"You're not losing me," he whispers. "You're never going to lose me."
Boruto nods. Looks down at his hands.
"But I still think it's weird you're dating Sarada's dad," he mutters.
Naruto almost laughs. The knot in his chest loosens. He can breathe again.
"But Dad, there's one more thing I need you to do for me," Boruto says, and now Naruto can hear a hint of desperation in his tone.
"Anything, kid."
"I need you to know that if you ever kiss her dad in front of me, I'll probably throw up and also maybe kill myself. So please, for the love of God, don't ever do that."
Naruto bursts out laughing. It's loud and messy and he feels a decade's worth of tension spill out of him.
"Deal," he says, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. "I promise I will not kiss Sarada's dad in front of you."
Boruto slumps back in his seat, exhausted.
"Good. Because I support you. And I want you to be happy. But I am begging you not to ruin my life."
The words land softer than Boruto knows. Softer than he means them. Because Naruto hears what sits underneath all the dramatics:
I still love you.
I still want you in my life.
Naruto grips the wheel a little tighter.
"Thank you," he says quietly. "Really."
The rest of the drive is quiet. But it's a different kind of quiet now. Not the heavy, suffocating quiet from before. This one is lighter. It has room in it. Naruto finds himself watching the sky change colors through the windshield, the gray of the rain giving way to a watery, late-afternoon light. He feels a weight lift from his shoulders he hadn't even realized was there. He glances over at Boruto. The boy is staring out the passenger window, one earbud in, his phone resting on his knee. He doesn't look angry anymore. He just looks… tired. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit okay.
When they pull up in front of Sasuke's house, Naruto parks the car in the driveway, behind Sasuke's sleek, black Mercedes. He and Boruto get out, and walk up to the front door.
"This is really weird," Boruto says.
"Tell me about it," Naruto replies. His heart is doing this stupid thing, pounding too fast for no good reason.
Naruto raises his hand and knocks. The door opens a few seconds later, and Sarada's standing there, her hair a little messy, like she'd been helping in the kitchen.
She blinks. Then smiles wide.
"Mr. Uzumaki," she says. "Boruto."
"Hey," Boruto says, a blush coloring his cheeks.
"Hello, Sarada," Naruto says. "I'm here to see your dad, and... well, Boruto said he wanted to talk to you, too."
"Oh, sure," Sarada says. "He's in the kitchen."
She steps aside, and lets them into the house.
Naruto enters, trying not to look like he's cataloguing the entire house at once, but he absolutely is. He's never been here. Never seen Sasuke's space. He tries to picture him living inside this place, moving through these rooms, eating breakfast at that table.
It hits harder than he expects.
The house is big. Very big. And expensive-looking in a way that makes Naruto suddenly aware of every scuff on his sneakers. Minimalist. Sharp lines. Quiet colors. It feels like Sasuke. Controlled. Precise. A little empty. A little lonely.
"Nice place," he mutters, feeling a little inadequate.
Sarada chuckles.
"Thanks," she says. "I keep telling him he should get some art, but he doesn't listen to me."
Naruto grins. Yeah. That sounds right.
They step into the kitchen, and his entire nervous system jolts. Sasuke is standing at the counter, slicing vegetables with clean, even strokes, sleeves pushed up, hair falling over his face. Domestic, but in a dangerous way. Like he should not be allowed to look that attractive doing something so normal.
"Look who's here," Sarada says.
Sasuke's eyes lift, and for a heartbeat, everything stills. His gaze meets Naruto's and his eyes soften, just slightly.
"Hey," he says. The warmth in his tone makes something in Naruto's chest tighten. "Thought you were coming alone."
"Boruto decided he wanted to tag along," Naruto replies. "And I figured he might as well talk to Sarada while we're here."
Both kids are staring. Their faces mirror each other, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked, as if their brains are short-circuiting at seeing their fathers in the same room without glaring daggers.
Boruto shifts from foot to foot. Sarada tucks her hair behind her ear even though it is already behind her ear.
Sasuke goes back to cutting but the knife pauses for half a second longer than necessary. Naruto pretends he did not notice that either.
Naruto moves closer to the counter. A casual lean. Or, well, he tries. His elbow almost slips because he is suddenly too aware of everything. Too aware of Sasuke. Too aware of Boruto's silent plea of please do not make me watch anything that requires therapy later.
"So," he says. "You're cooking?"
Sasuke arches an eyebrow. "People do that, you know."
"Yeah, but you?" Naruto grins. "Didn't peg you for the domestic type."
"Someone has to make sure Sarada eats properly."
There's a faint smile now, but the quiet between them feels charged. Naruto can see Boruto squirming in the corner of his eye. The boy's face is scrunched like he's watching something that physically pains him.
"Actually," Boruto blurts. "I... uh. It might be more comfortable for us if we went somewhere else. Like, not here. At all."
Naruto can see the blush rising on his cheeks. They must be a little weirded out by seeing their parents in such a domestic setting.
"Oh, right," Sasuke says. "I'll give you some money for the café down the street.".
"That'd be great," Sarada says, with a shy smile.
Boruto nods stiffly. Naruto can see the tension radiating off him. The boy cannot get out of this house fast enough. Not while Naruto and Sasuke are standing like this, talking like this, looking at each other like they are two magnets, unable to resist each other's pull.
Sasuke opens his wallet, pulling out some bills. His hand is steady. Naruto's is not. Naruto is fighting the urge to stand closer, to brush their fingers together, to take the opportunity to touch him, even in the smallest way.
He can't. Not with Boruto right there. Not with the threat of melodramatic death still hanging in the air.
"Thanks, Dad," Sarada says, accepting the money.
"Actually, Mr. Uchiha," Boruto says, his voice timid. "Would you mind if... after we go to the café, Sarada came home with me?"
Naruto bites back a smile. Sasuke glances at him. A silent question. Naruto shrugs. It's fine by him.
"I don't see why not," Sasuke says, turning his attention back to Boruto. "As long as your mom's okay with it."
"Cool," Boruto replies.
Sarada gives her dad a quick hug.
"Thanks, Dad," she says. "We'll see you later."
"Bye, Mr. Uchiha," Boruto calls, already following Sarada out of the kitchen.
"Bye," Naruto says, watching them leave.
And when the door clicks shut behind Sarada and Boruto, an almost eerie quiet fills the space. It feels intentional. Heavy. Like the universe took a step back and left the two of them alone in a vacuum.
Naruto feels the silence settle in his bones. It feels like standing at the edge of something.
"That was unexpected," Sasuke says.
"Sure was," Naruto agrees.
Sasuke turns back to the cutting board, but Naruto can feel it: that attention, that awareness, that magnetic pull he has never once escaped. The air between them thickens. It presses against Naruto's skin like humidity, warm and unavoidable.
"Are you hungry?" he asks.
"Always," Naruto says, smiling.
"Good," Sasuke replies, returning his smile. "Because I'm making lunch."
Something in Naruto goes warm and stupid at the sight of Sasuke smiling in a kitchen. His kitchen. Their kitchen, maybe. One day. Soon.
"Can I help?"
"If you want."
He should not have stepped closer.
Not when Sasuke's scent is this close to his nose. Not when he can feel the heat of his arm even though they aren't touching. Not when he can hear the faint, soft sound of Sasuke breathing.
Naruto feels his pulse stutter.
He is already in trouble.
"What should I do?" he asks, his voice low.
Sasuke turns his head, and looks at him. Their eyes lock, and his breath hitches.
God, this man. This stupid, beautiful man. The tilt of his jaw. The curve of his mouth. The sharp cheekbones. The lashes. The eyes that can slice him open with one blink. How is Naruto supposed to function when Sasuke looks at him like that?
Naruto has been kissed by this man. Loved by this man. Ruined by this man.
But right now it feels new again.
Sasuke seems to feel the tension, too. His eyes darken. His gaze slides down to Naruto's lips.
Naruto feels heat crawl up his neck.
"Sasuke," he says.
There's a flicker of a smirk on Sasuke's face. He looks smug. Satisfied. Like he's pleased that Naruto wants him this badly.
"Cut these," he says, gesturing towards the vegetables.
Naruto blinks hard and tries to gather the scattered pieces of his brain. He grabs the cutting board, tries to focus on the knife, tries not to shake with adrenaline.
They work side by side. Close enough that their arms could brush if either of them exhaled too deeply. The awareness is maddening. Naruto feels every inch of Sasuke's presence, like a current running along the length of his spine.
"So," Sasuke says, resuming his work. "You talked to the kids."
"Yeah," Naruto says. "I did."
"Boruto seemed... calm," Sasuke continues.
"Yeah," Naruto says. "He's... sad, I think. Confused. But he's doing okay."
Sasuke nods at that, quiet and thoughtful. Naruto feels heat rising in his face again, stupidly, because this feels too domestic. Too natural. Too right.
Sasuke nods.
"Himawari was great," Naruto adds. "She's happy for us."
"Good," Sasuke says. "I'm glad. Sarada said she was happy, too."
Naruto swallows. He tries to look at the vegetables instead of Sasuke's hands. Instead of the line of his neck. Instead of the way his movements feel steady and sure in a way that makes Naruto want to lean over and kiss his shoulder.
"Do you have anything I can put these in?" he asks, pointing at the cut-up veggies.
"I'll get it," Sasuke replies.
He reaches across Naruto to open a cupboard, his chest brushing against Naruto's shoulder.
Fuck.
Naruto watches, his throat dry, as Sasuke pulls a bowl out of the cupboard.
"Here," Sasuke says, handing him the bowl.
"Thanks," Naruto manages. He pours the vegetables in, each piece hitting the bottom with a soft thud that sounds too loud in the quiet kitchen. Sasuke is still close. Still warm. Still looking at him.
Naruto places the knife in the sink. His heartbeat has not slowed once since the kids left.
"Anything else?" he asks, not trusting himself to say more.
"Well," Sasuke responds. "We could finish making lunch. Or..."
Naruto looks at him. "Or?"
Sasuke meets his eyes. His voice drops. "Or I could show you around the place. Since you'll be moving in soon."
Naruto's pulse stutters. He tries to play it cool. He fails.
"Good idea," he says.
"I'm full of them," Sasuke replies.
"You certainly are," Naruto murmurs.
He follows Sasuke out of the kitchen. It feels like walking into something inevitable. Each step pulls the air tighter. Each room feels smaller than the last.
"This is the living room," Sasuke says, and his hand brushes Naruto's hip like it's nothing.
Naruto swallows a curse. His skin tingles violently. He can barely breathe.
"I can tell," he mutters.
Sasuke smirks and moves down the hallway. Naruto trails behind, staring shamelessly at the line of Sasuke's back, the shape of his shoulders, the curve of his ass. He should stop staring. He does not.
Sasuke's hand grazes the small of Naruto's back. A soft touch, easy to miss. Naruto does not miss it. His breath catches instantly.
"Wanna see my study?" Sasuke asks, his breath warm against the side of his neck.
"No," Naruto replies.
He grabs Sasuke's hand, and spins him around.
"I don't need to see your fucking study," he says, backing Sasuke against the wall. "I don't need to see the balcony, or the storage room, or the guest bedroom, or whatever else is on this tour."
Sasuke's pupils are blown. He's breathing hard.
"No?" he asks.
Naruto leans down, and kisses his jaw.
"I already know I'm gonna love it here," he murmurs, and presses his mouth to Sasuke's throat.
Sasuke gasps, his hand sliding up the back of Naruto's neck, tangling in his hair.
"So just take me to your bedroom," Naruto says.
He nips at Sasuke's skin, and smirks, as Sasuke shudders beneath him.
"Fuck," Sasuke mutters, his grip tightening.
He tugs Naruto's head back, and kisses him, deep and rough.
Naruto moans, and presses his body against Sasuke's. Fuck, he wants him. He needs him.
"Bedroom," Sasuke breathes. "This way."
They stumble together, mouths colliding again, hands already roaming under clothing. They crash through the doorway and land on the bed in a tangle of limbs and breath.
Sasuke pins him first. Naruto pulls him down harder. Their mouths meet with the kind of hunger that has history behind it, years behind it, an entire lifetime of almosts and not-yets behind it.
Naruto stares up at him and feels his chest seize. Sasuke looks wrecked already, hair falling over his eyes, lips swollen, breathing too fast. Naruto wants to memorize this moment. To tattoo it into his bones.
"Want you," he pants, as Sasuke sucks on his neck.
"You have me," Sasuke whispers.
"Need you," Naruto groans.
"I'm right here."
Naruto drags his hand down Sasuke's body, from chest to waist to hips. Every inch of him feels like something Naruto has been starving for.
"Want all of you," he murmurs, as Sasuke's fingers slip beneath his waistband.
"All of me," Sasuke echoes, and then there's a sharp bite on his earlobe.
Naruto hisses. He digs his fingers into Sasuke's hips.
"Every fucking part," he says, and then rolls them over, pinning Sasuke to the mattress.
"Show me," Sasuke challenges, and Naruto is pretty sure his heart skips a beat.
He sits up, and stares down at the beautiful man beneath him. His eyes rake over him, from his tousled hair, to his flushed cheeks, down his muscular chest, all the way to the bulge in his pants.
He looks at him for a moment. He takes him in. Commits every inch of him to memory.
Then, with a wicked grin, he gets to work.
-
"God," Sasuke gasps, as Naruto's mouth moves lower, leaving a trail of bruises on his skin.
"That good, huh?"
"Shut up."
Naruto grins against his pulse, feels it race beneath his lips. Every sound, every shiver feels amplified. There's no alcohol to blur it, no years to dull it. Just them, stripped down to what's left after seventeen years of everything and nothing.
He thinks about their previous times. About the first time, seventeen years ago. How Sasuke gave himself over so completely. How he let himself be taken apart. How Naruto had been too young, and too horny, and too drunk, and couldn't properly appreciate how good it felt, how perfect it was.
How the second time, the other night, they'd both been much older, but just as stupid. And just as drunk. And Sasuke's walls were up, and he was closed off, and Naruto wanted to take him apart so fucking badly, but he had to allow Sasuke to set the pace, and let him take control.
But this. Right now. This is a star being born in their quiet. The universe is rearranging itself, cell by cell, around them.
Sasuke's breathing is ragged. His hands are clenched in the sheets. He looks up at Naruto with wide, dark eyes. They're full of trust. Full of vulnerability. Full of something else, too. Something Naruto hasn't seen from him in a long, long time.
He's beautiful. He's so fucking beautiful.
And Naruto wants to worship him.
He moves slowly, deliberately, like mapping out a constellation. Every kiss is a memory. Every sigh is an apology. Every place his hands touch says I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.
When Sasuke laughs, quiet, breathless, eyes wet, Naruto feels it like sunlight through a crack in a wall that's been standing too long. It's a sound he hasn't heard in what feels like a lifetime. He never knew he could miss a laugh this much. He pauses, lifts his head to look at him.
"What's so funny?"
"Just," Sasuke's chest hitches, a half-laugh, half-sob. "This. All of this. Us. Here. Seventeen fucking years, and I'm so fucking happy right now."
And there it is.
That's the feeling.
Naruto's whole world shifts, and the light that filters in is blinding. This is Sasuke, the real Sasuke, laid bare and raw.
He looks up at Naruto, and smiles. A wide, open smile. No trace of darkness. Nothing hidden. It's a smile he hasn't seen in seventeen years, a smile that lights up his whole face. It's a smile he thought was lost forever.
It's the sun, rising.
A want so fierce it makes his head spin crashes over him.
Naruto's heart is so full. His chest feels like it might explode. He's overwhelmed, by Sasuke's honesty, by his own feelings, by how right this feels.
He looks at the man underneath him, and knows, with a clarity that knocks the wind out of him, that this is the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
Fuck, he loves him. He needs to make this man happy.
He slides a hand up his thigh, and Sasuke's laugh catches, turning into a sharp gasp.
Naruto grins. His hand creeps higher, and he can see Sasuke's pulse hammering away beneath the pale skin of his throat. He dips his head, and trails a series of kisses along his jaw, as he hooks a finger under the waistband of his underwear.
"Please," Sasuke breathes, and Naruto has to fight the urge to pin him down, and rip the clothes from his body.
"Impatient, are we?" he teases, but he can't wait any longer either, and his hands are trembling as he yanks his pants and underwear off, tosses them across the room, and dives down to run his tongue over the smooth, hot skin of Sasuke's stomach.
"Fuck you," Sasuke pants.
"In a minute," Naruto replies, looking up to gauge his reaction.
Sasuke's eyes widen. He looks... surprised, almost. And maybe a little turned on.
Okay. Good. That's... good.
Naruto smirks, and licks a stripe up his inner thigh.
"You okay with that?" he asks, his voice low. "Me taking you, this time?"
He can see the muscle in Sasuke's jaw working. His hands tighten in the sheets.
"Yes," he says, his voice strained. "Yes, I want you, I want—"
He breaks off, groaning, as Naruto sucks a bruise onto the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.
"Mmm, good," Naruto hums, his tongue circling the mark, admiring his work. "But before I do that, I'm going to get my mouth on every fucking inch of you, so hold still."
Naruto pulls back just enough to look at him. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe.
Sasuke lies beneath him, flushed and trembling, pupils wide and dark as night. Every line of him feels carved from something sacred. The soft rise of his chest, the curve of his collarbone, the way light pools in the hollow of his throat, the shadows it casts on the pale skin, the hard jut of his hip bones, the long, slender fingers, clenching and unclenching the sheets.
This man, this perfect, beautiful, breathtaking man, is lying beneath him, naked, and wanting.
Naruto wants to commit every detail to memory, wants to burn it into his hands, his eyes, his ribs. This, he thinks, is what devotion looks like.
"Naruto," Sasuke whispers, and the sound of his name makes him dizzy. "Touch me."
And, because he's a fool, because he's lost, because he's never known how to say no to him, Naruto leans down, and obeys.
He kisses his way down Sasuke's body, slow, and methodical. He maps out the terrain of his hips, his stomach, his thighs. He traces the lines of him, memorizing every angle, every curve, until his skin is on fire, until he's certain he'll never forget how this feels, not as long as he lives.
Somewhere along the way a bottle of lube gets thrown at his head, and he has to stop what he's doing for a minute, and laugh.
"Impatient," he chides, and then his voice fades out into a moan, as Sasuke's fingers tangle in his hair, and tug, hard.
"Fuck," he breathes, looking up at him.
Sasuke smirks, and raises an eyebrow.
"I said, touch me."
Oh. Oh.
That's a tone that has always driven him crazy. That's a tone that has made him drop to his knees, has made him give in, has made him do things that would make a priest blush.
Fuck.
Sasuke has always had a hold on him, but now? After all these years, and everything that's happened between them, after all the pain, and the heartache, and the regret?
After seeing his smile again?
It's a fucking inferno.
Naruto can barely breathe, the flames are licking his skin. He's burning. Everything he has, everything he is, is at Sasuke's feet.
And Sasuke is still smirking, still looking at him with a glint in his eyes, and if Naruto wasn't already halfway to madness, this would have done it.
So, he does the only thing he can think of. He takes the bottle, and drizzles the lube over his fingers, and presses his mouth to the base of Sasuke's cock.
"Fuck," Sasuke hisses, and his hips twitch upwards.
Naruto grabs his thigh with his free hand, and pushes his leg up, pressing it down to the bed. He swirls his tongue around the tip of Sasuke's cock, and then takes him into his mouth, as his fingers trail between his legs, circling his hole.
Sasuke makes a choked noise, and Naruto feels a rush of heat shoot through him. Fuck, he loves this. He loves doing this to him. He loves how responsive Sasuke is, how desperate, how he can't stop his hips from twitching, how he's falling apart beneath him, his breathing fast and shallow.
Naruto hums in appreciation, and presses the tip of a finger into him, slowly, gently.
Sasuke moans, and his hips buck, trying to push him deeper. But Naruto isn't going to let him. Not yet.
He swirls his tongue, and hollows his cheeks, and pushes in further, a little bit at a time.
Sasuke swears, and fists a hand in his hair, and his grip is so tight it almost hurts, but the way he's trembling, the way he's panting, the noises he's making, send a flood of heat through Naruto's body, and all he can think is, more, more, more.
His finger sinks deeper. Sasuke is relaxed. Pliant. He opens up so beautifully. It makes Naruto dizzy, the way he's so eager, the way he's letting himself fall apart.
He's a vision.
Naruto thinks about the sky, and the sun, and the stars, and everything holy, and it still doesn't come close. It's like something divine has touched his skin. It's like a painting, a piece of art, and the artist poured the very essence of love into the canvas, and Naruto can't breathe, because he's staring at the result.
He wants to tell him, wants to show him, how perfect he is, how much he means, how the only thing worth knowing, the only truth that matters, is him.
How nothing, in the whole history of the universe, has ever felt more right than the way they are now.
Naruto's tongue traces a lazy pattern up the length of his cock, as his finger slides deeper.
Sasuke gasps. Naruto smirks, and pulls back. He's barely started.
He moves slow. His finger pumps, gentle and steady, while his tongue and lips tease, and torment. He keeps his movements unhurried, and methodical, drawing out the anticipation, making sure every movement is a calculated effort to make Sasuke lose control.
He's determined to drive him wild.
"Fuck," Sasuke groans, when Naruto's tongue swirls around his tip. "Give me another."
"Be patient," Naruto chides.
"Patience is a fucking virtue, asshole, and I have none. Give me another."
Naruto chuckles. Fuck, he loves this man. Loves his dirty mouth, his demands, the way he's so shamelessly, desperately, aching for more.
Naruto obliges. His finger slips deeper, and then he pulls out, and presses back in, two fingers this time, and the groan Sasuke makes shoots a jolt of electricity straight through him.
"That better, Your Highness?"
"Shut the fuck up and move," Sasuke orders.
"Or what?"
"Or I'm gonna—"
Whatever Sasuke was going to say gets cut off, as Naruto takes his whole length into his mouth, and slides his fingers deep inside him, and twists, searching.
Sasuke hisses, and bucks, his hand tightening in Naruto's hair.
"Fuuuuck," he groans, as Naruto's tongue works him, and his fingers slide deeper, and then— "Naruto!" Sasuke shouts, his voice hoarse.
Gotcha.
Naruto smiles to himself, and strokes his prostate again. Sasuke moans, loud, and uninhibited. His hand clenches, and the sting in Naruto's scalp is fucking divine.
He wants to see him fall apart.
He pumps his fingers, and flicks his tongue, and his whole world shrinks to this. This bed, this room, this man. The sound of his breathing, the taste of his skin, the way his muscles twitch and his back arches, as his pleasure mounts.
He slows down, and draws back, just a little, just enough to watch. However, Sasuke, having none of it, grabs a fistful of his hair, and shoves him back down, and, fuck, Naruto would be lying if he said that wasn't really fucking hot.
So, he does what any sensible person would do, and starts sucking him off in earnest.
He uses his free hand to push Sasuke's hips down to remind him who's in charge here, and he feels his heart rate spike, as Sasuke tries to move against him.
Oh, the things this man does to him.
He presses a third finger against Sasuke's hole, and feels a thrill rush through him, as Sasuke shudders.
Sasuke tries to push against his hand, but Naruto pushes him back down, and holds him there. He hears a sharp gasp, and smirks.
Oh, he's gonna enjoy this.
He teases him for a little longer, letting his fingers dip in and out, and then, without warning, pushes three fingers in, and curls them against his prostate.
"Naruto!" Sasuke shouts, and fuck, he's gorgeous.
Naruto has always loved it when Sasuke says his name. There's something about the way he says it, a particular cadence, a hint of emotion, that Naruto's never been able to put his finger on. It's different from the way he says other people's names. It's something unique, something special, something that's his.
Now, though.
Now, the way he cries out, the way his voice cracks, the way his name is a plea, a curse, a prayer, is something else. Something transcendent. Something holy.
Naruto keeps his fingers pressed to that spot for a moment, and watches Sasuke squirm beneath him. Broken syllables tumble from his lips, words without meaning. His hand fists in Naruto's hair, holding him tight, and his other hand reaches blindly, groping at the sheets.
Oh?
On an impulse, Naruto starts rubbing the pads of his fingers over his prostate, keeping up the pressure instead of releasing it, and then, just to see what will happen, he takes him all the way into his mouth, and swallows.
Sasuke's response is... unexpected.
This whole thing was intended to be a tease, but apparently, he was too good at his job.
Sasuke's thighs press together, trapping Naruto's head between them, and, just as Naruto starts thinking about how this is not the worst place to die, Sasuke comes, hot and sudden, down his throat.
Naruto swallows, and blinks, as his head spins. Well, that's new.
For a long, stunned second, he just stays there, dazed, blinking against the sharp, dizzy rush of it all. His breath catches, chest rising and falling against the back of Sasuke's thigh.
Then Sasuke exhales, shaky and broken, and it drags Naruto back into his body. He lifts his head slowly, tasting air, tasting heat, tasting him. His lips are wet, his pulse wild. He looks up and sees Sasuke spread out above him, panting, eyes wide and unfocused, skin flushed the color of sunrise.
And something in him snaps.
The sight is too much. Too intimate, too beautiful, too real. Sasuke, undone. Sasuke, trusting. Sasuke, his.
Naruto's mind blanks. His body thrums. Every muscle hums with want.
He drags his gaze up, slow, reverent, and the movement feels like worship. He watches a tremor roll through Sasuke's body, the way his stomach tightens, the way his throat works as he swallows. He's trembling, half from aftershocks, half from the weight of being seen.
Sasuke seems shocked by his own response. His fingers twitch, like they want to cover himself, or maybe push Naruto away. Instead, he meets his gaze. He doesn't say a word. But, somehow, that's worse.
In his eyes, Naruto can see his defenses, torn to shreds. All the walls, all the barbed wire, the landmines and tripwires, gone. Sasuke's heart lies exposed and bare. He's stripped down to nothing, and all Naruto can see is trust.
His eyes, his posture, the line of his neck, his hands, still twisted in the sheets, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips part as he breathes. Everything is open. Everything is saying yes.
Naruto is dizzy. Wild. Feral.
This, he thinks, must be what it feels like to have the sun rise inside your chest.
"Naruto," Sasuke whispers, his voice raw.
The sound of his name snaps something in him, and all the restraint, the desire to savor this, it vanishes.
Naruto pulls his fingers free, and sits up, and before he can think, or second-guess, or do anything at all, he's flipping Sasuke onto his stomach, and yanking him up onto his knees.
"Oh, fuck," Sasuke pants. "Give me a fucking minute, will you?"
Naruto kisses his way down his back, and then licks his tongue over his entrance.
"Oh my fucking God," Sasuke gasps. "Jesus. Jesus Christ."
Naruto does it again, and this time, the tip of his tongue slips inside.
"Holy fucking hell," Sasuke groans, and pushes back against him, almost on instinct. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Just giving you a second," Naruto replies, smirking.
He continues what he's doing, licking, and sucking, and then finally, pushing his tongue in, as deep as he can.
The trembling gets so bad, he has to grab Sasuke's thighs, to hold him still.
He plans on enjoying this meal, and he can't do that, if his plate keeps jumping around.
Sasuke seems to be having the time of his life. He's cursing and panting, and grinding back against his face, and it's hot, and messy, and absolutely perfect.
Naruto has no idea how long they stay like that. Minutes? Hours? It doesn't matter. He could spend the rest of his life down here.
Finally, though, when even his hands can't keep Sasuke's legs still, and he's shaking so hard, Naruto thinks he might collapse, he sits up, and wipes his mouth, and decides that, maybe, it's time to move on.
Sasuke falls forward, and buries his face in the pillow. His hands are shaking, his knuckles white. His body is so tense, he's almost vibrating.
"You okay?" Naruto asks, running a hand down his spine.
"For the love of God," Sasuke chokes out. "If you don't fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I will murder you, and then myself."
What a charmer. Naruto is hit again – harder this time – by how utterly feral Sasuke sounds, how raw and desperate and honest. It's like someone's ripped out his lungs and replaced them with fire, and all he can do is breathe, and burn.
He's still not entirely sure if he's dead, or dreaming.
Naruto's head is spinning. There's an ocean rushing in his ears. It takes a while for him to remember how to speak.
"Alright, alright," he says, and his voice sounds like it's coming from a million miles away. "Hold still."
Sasuke makes a strangled, frustrated noise. "Do I look like I'm capable of holding still?"
"Shhh," Naruto replies. He presses a kiss to his lower back, and pulls his own soaked underwear off, and tosses it across the room, and then reaches for the bottle of lube.
He opens it, and pours a generous amount onto his hand. He takes himself in his hand, and spreads it over his length. He hisses, as the cool liquid meets his hot skin.
Sasuke lets out a muffled whimper, and grinds his hips against the bed.
"Okay, okay," Naruto says.
"Don't you dare," Sasuke hisses.
"Don't what?"
"If you try to be gentle, or sweet, or, or, romantic, or some shit, I will end you."
Naruto laughs. "Well, in that case, you're gonna fucking love this."
He grips Sasuke's hips, hard enough to bruise, and lifts him up onto his knees. He lines himself up, and then, before Sasuke can open his mouth, to say something threatening again, he slams his hips forward, and sinks into him, until he's buried to the hilt.
Sasuke's mouth falls open, and he cries out. Naruto can't stop himself from doing the same.
Sasuke is impossibly hot, and tight, and wet, and the feeling of being inside him, of feeling his body take him, and stretch, and yield, and mold around him, is enough to make him see stars.
For a moment, neither of them moves. The room is silent, except for the sound of their breathing, loud and labored.
Naruto tries, but he can't quite process what's happening. His mind is blank, his senses overwhelmed. All he can feel is the heat of Sasuke's skin, the clench of his muscles, the way he's so fucking tight.
"Come on," Sasuke groans, grinding against him. "Move, asshole."
Naruto laughs, a little breathless. "If I move, I'll come, and then we'll have to start all over again."
Sasuke huffs, impatient. He reaches back, and digs his fingers into Naruto's thigh, hard enough to hurt.
"Move, or I swear to fucking—"
That's the last coherent sentence Sasuke is capable of, because the second he starts speaking, Naruto pulls his hips back, and then snaps them forward, slamming into him.
He doesn't bother starting slow. He knows he can't. He's wound too tight, and the noises Sasuke is making are far too intoxicating, and the heat, the fucking heat, is almost too much to take.
So, instead, he goes hard, and fast, and ruthless, and, judging by the way Sasuke's hands are clawing at the sheets, and his breathing is uneven, he's pretty sure that's the right choice.
He sets a punishing pace. His hands are on Sasuke's hips, pulling him back to meet him, over, and over, and over, as he fucks into him.
And Sasuke—
Fuck.
Sasuke, apparently, doesn't even have the strength to lift his head. He's collapsed onto his forearms, and he's shaking so hard, the bed is shaking with him.
But the bastard is still somehow able to be an absolute fucking brat.
"You," he chokes out. "You're not— fucking me— hard enough."
What a goddamn asshole.
Naruto grabs a fistful of his hair, and twists. He tugs his head back, and leans forward, until his chest is pressed against Sasuke's back, and his mouth is next to his ear.
"That so?"
He feels Sasuke shiver, and grins. He's found his rhythm. He knows how to play him. How to touch him.
He keeps a grip on his hair, and his other hand slides down his side, and around, until his palm is resting flat against Sasuke's stomach, fingers spread.
"Naruto," Sasuke chokes out, and fuck, his voice is wrecked.
"I'm right here, baby," Naruto murmurs.
And then, without warning, he releases his hair, and grabs his throat.
Sasuke goes rigid. He gasps, sharp, and desperate, and his whole body trembles, as Naruto's hand closes around his throat.
Okay, then.
Naruto files that little tidbit away, for future reference.
He squeezes, gently at first, and then harder, and then his hand falls away, and he's gripping his hip, and starts driving into him, harder than before, deeper, faster, relentless.
He's not gonna last long.
Sasuke, apparently, isn't gonna either.
Naruto isn't even touching his cock, and, judging by the sounds he's making, that doesn't seem to matter.
Naruto's rhythm stutters, and his hips jerk, and he can feel the pleasure coiling low in his belly, building and building, and it's like nothing he's ever felt before. It's like being pulled apart.
He wants to warn Sasuke, but his brain is too foggy to form words. So, he just fucks him harder, and hopes that will do.
It does.
The way Sasuke comes is violent and sudden, a storm crashing through them both. The sharp intake of breath, the guttural cry torn from deep inside him, Naruto feels it all in his bones. Sasuke's hips jerk against his, trembling and raw, and the sound he makes is like something sacred breaking.
His legs give out beneath him. His elbows buckle. He collapses forward, chest pressed to the sheets, and Naruto follows without hesitation.
Naruto lands on top of him, hand tangling fiercely in Sasuke's hair, teeth finding the soft skin at the nape of his neck. His hips slam forward, one, two, three more times, each movement desperate and consuming, and then, he's there, falling, burning, losing himself completely.
Everything whites out.
He comes so hard it feels like the world fractures and rebuilds around Sasuke. Breathless. Soundless. Weightless. Nothing exists except the wild, aching heat flooding his veins and the fierce, raw connection anchoring him to the man beneath him.
Time slips away, dissolving into a haze of trembling limbs and ragged breaths.
Slowly, he drifts back.
His pulse thunders in his ears. His lungs ache with ragged gasps. His muscles tremble, weak and unsteady. His entire body shakes. Then he realizes the shaking is coming from Sasuke too.
"You okay?" he asks, when his brain has recovered enough to form words.
Sasuke, who seems to be experiencing the same post-coital delirium, just hums, a wordless, sleepy sound.
Naruto laughs. "Did I kill you?"
Another wordless noise, almost a purr this time.
Naruto grins, and pulls out, slowly, careful not to jostle him too much. He has to force his eyes away from the mess they've made. If he thinks about that too hard, he'll get ideas, and if he gets ideas, Sasuke's going to have to deal with him getting ideas, and judging by how blissed-out the man looks, that's not something he's equipped to handle.
"What are you thinking about?" Sasuke mumbles, his eyes closed.
"That we need a shower."
Sasuke's eyes open. They're a little unfocused, his gaze still a bit hazy.
"That we do," he says.
Naruto can't help but grin. "Did I just render the great Uchiha Sasuke speechless?"
Instead of snapping at him, Sasuke smiles. "Something like that."
Naruto blinks. Sasuke's smile is so bright, his words so sweet, it's like his entire personality has changed. He's softer, somehow. Like all the edges have been sanded down, and he's become... well, he's become Naruto's.
Naruto's chest swells, and the thought of having someone's heart in your hands should probably be terrifying, but all he feels is elated.
He's so gone for this man.
"Shower?" Sasuke asks.
"Sure," Naruto replies.
Sasuke climbs off the bed, and starts walking, but his knees give out beneath him. Luckily, Naruto is quick, and catches him before he can hit the ground.
"Whoa, easy," he says, laughing.
"Shut up," Sasuke grumbles.
"There you go, that's my Sasuke."
Sasuke looks up at him, and smiles. And it's the kind of smile that knocks the breath right out of him. It's sweet, and shy, and a little dazed. He looks young, and innocent, and happy.
It's funny how, at thirty-eight, Naruto feels younger than he has in his entire life.
He smiles, and takes Sasuke's hand, and leads him into the bathroom.
They take their time, and wash each other, and trade slow, lazy kisses, and if Naruto had to describe the shower, he'd call it peaceful.
He'd never imagined Sasuke could be so gentle. So tender. He's always been a little rough around the edges, a little abrasive, and that's never bothered him. But now, watching the way his hand moves across his skin, feeling the care in his touch, the warmth in his eyes, he thinks he might be addicted.
Afterwards, they crawl into bed, and curl up together, and it feels right.
Naruto rests his head on Sasuke's shoulder, and tangles their legs together, and presses a kiss to his chest.
"What time is Sarada coming back?" he asks, not wanting to ruin the moment, but also not wanting to end up naked and wrapped around her dad when she gets home.
"Let me text her," Sasuke says, and reaches for his phone.
He types for a second, and then puts his phone back down.
"She said Hinata is making her stay for dinner."
Naruto thinks that his soon-to-be-ex-wife is a fucking saint. He makes a mental note to buy her flowers, or something.
"So, we've got a few hours?"
"A few."
"Can't she stay over? Tomorrow's Sunday," Naruto tries, knowing that won't work, but trying anyway.
Sasuke glares at him.
"You're trying to convince me to let my teenage daughter sleep over at her boyfriend's house. Do you want to die?"
Naruto laughs, and rolls over onto his stomach. He props his chin up on his arms, and smiles at him.
"No, not yet. I've still got some things to do first."
"Like what?" Sasuke asks, rolling his eyes.
"Like this," Naruto replies.
He leans in, and presses a kiss to his jaw, and then to the soft spot behind his ear. He kisses his way down, slow and deliberate, until his lips are brushing the base of his throat, where he can feel his pulse.
"Already?" Sasuke asks.
"I didn't say anything," Naruto replies, grinning.
"You were thinking it," Sasuke accuses.
Naruto doesn't try to deny it. Instead, he just continues his trail of kisses, down, down, down. He presses his lips against the line of his sternum, and then lower, across the muscles of his abdomen. This is his favorite part of Sasuke's body. All those lines, all that strength, and yet, the way he trembles beneath him, it's intoxicating.
"Are you seriously hard again already?" Sasuke asks, his voice a little shaky.
"It's all your fault," Naruto says, and licks his way down his abdomen.
"Oh my God, you're insatiable," Sasuke groans, throwing an arm over his face.
"Mmhmm," Naruto agrees. "Totally your fault."
"You are impossible," Sasuke huffs, and then his voice catches, as Naruto wraps a hand around his cock, and licks his way along the shaft.
Naruto smiles, and decides that, this time, he's going to enjoy his dessert.