"Returning": NaruSasu fic (5 x 200)
So awhile ago I created a challenge for myself, to do a 1000-word fic in five progressive drabbles of 200 words each. I wrote most of it a long time ago, but I recently revised it.
Title: Returning
Pairing: NaruSasu
Genre: Mostly angst
Rating: R to be safe (references to sex)
Words: 1000 (5 drabbles, 200 words each)
Warnings: Boys sexing; self-injury and general emoness.
1. Dreams
Naruto often dreamed about Sasuke’s return to Konoha, and about the night together that would follow.
Sometimes he imagined that the years of pent-up fury and desire would come roaring to the surface, and he’d shred those stupid Sound clothes and pound Sasuke into the wall until he was raw and bruised and bleeding. “Say it!” Naruto would growl. “Say you’re sorry, dammit!” But Sasuke wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t even look at Naruto, because if Naruto could see his eyes he’d see that they were begging for mercy, for release, for the forgiveness Naruto had secretly already granted him.
Other times, he dreamed Sasuke was standing by the window, eyes looking inward. Naruto would go over and put his arms around him, without a word. Sasuke would stand there far-off and stonelike, but wouldn’t push him away, and Naruto would hold him in the dark, waiting for the imperceptible quiver in the exhausted shoulders as the Uchiha’s shell cracked at last. Kissing Sasuke’s just-damp cheek, he would taste sanction in the salt and take the broken boy to bed.
But when Sasuke finally did come home, he insisted on spending the night alone, and no dream of Naruto’s matched that.
2. Experience
After Sasuke returned, Naruto noticed his kisses had changed. Twelve-year-old Sasuke had kissed…well, like a twelve-year old, clumsy and hormone-crazed, combined with the prissy, closed-mouthed reluctance inherent in the Uchiha. Those kisses had been awkward substitutes for words. Now, Sasuke’s kisses were a language in themselves. He kissed with a stealthy determination. Confident, yet creative, and not entirely dominant, either. He drew Naruto out, silently urging him to take command, to consume him, or to fill some empty space within. If Sasuke’s young kisses seemed driven by hunger, these seemed driven by thirst. A startling depth seemed to wait behind the still soft lips, the wordless tongue that danced and glided over his own. Naruto was thrilled and a little frightened by the way Sasuke used his tongue. The boy’s obvious experience was one thing he’d rather not think about. Fortunately, he was too busy enjoying himself to think. The hot wet pull of the kiss held more feeling than Sasuke’s stoic face ever dared to show. It was unguarded and unabashedly real.
Before, Sasuke had kissed Naruto as if he had never kissed anyone else. Now, he kissed him as if he never wanted to kiss anyone else again.
3. Shelter
Naruto loved outdoor sex. Maybe it was some deep-seated vulpine instinct that relished the prickle of grass on his bare skin and the fresh scent of the wind whipping above him. Maybe it was the warm, translucent quality to Sasuke’s pale skin, usually so cold, that only direct sunlight made visible. Maybe the troublemaker in him saw rebellion in it - the risk of getting caught in the middle of the forest with his pants down and a blushing Uchiha under him made it all the more arousing.
Sasuke, on the other hand, had a decided preference for beds. Sasuke liked it rough - it was unusual for neither of them to be bleeding somewhere when all was said and done - but afterward, he liked soft sheets. At first Naruto teased him for being a spoiled Uchiha brat, but then it struck him that maybe, subconsciously, Sasuke sought a sort of protection in the shelter of the covers. At night when they finished, Sasuke would often roll away to the side, and the soft damp space between them would widen. But later, hovering on the edge of sleep, Naruto would sometimes find Sasuke curled close to him in an almost innocent embrace.
4. Awakening
The first time he woke up alone, Naruto panicked, sick with the fear that Sasuke would disappear again for good. Eventually he grew used to it, but it didn’t stop him, early one morning, from following him silently out the door, to the edge of the Uchiha compound.
Sasuke stood among the shadows of the empty-socket houses, and immediately Naruto recognized the tattered sleeve of black and red fabric in his hands. He hung back, unsure if he wanted to be seen, but black eyes turned and caught him in his tracks. Like a snake poised to strike, Sasuke watched Naruto’s cautious approach, but as the blond drew closer, he relaxed in acquiescence. Naruto gently touched Sasuke’s arm, draped in the remnants of Itachi’s cloak, and recoiled at the startling dampness. He saw his fingers faintly stained crimson, and wondered if Sasuke’s tears had softened the long-dry blood embedded in the cloth. But Sasuke never cried anymore.
Avoiding Naruto’s questioning gaze, Sasuke pulled back the fabric - wrapped like a bandage, Naruto saw now - smearing a bright stripe across his forearm. A thin line of sharingan red rose to the surface as Naruto stared, disbelieving, at what his lover had done.
5. Peace
Naruto knew he couldn’t heal Sasuke completely. The hardest thing was realizing that he himself would never heal completely. He had imagined that once Sasuke came back everything would be set right. But the damage ran too deep for that.
For three years, he had trusted in the belief that to love someone was to save them. But the war had whittled down his naïve pre-teen idealism, and the faith that had sustained him was, after all, only an idea. Now that Sasuke had come home, finally admitting that he loved him, Naruto saw more clearly than ever that love didn’t fix everything. Pieces of Sasuke had healed and grown stronger, but others never would - and this in turn cut Naruto to the core. Sasuke could still wound him, with eyes like blades and silences that crushed. Naruto had done everything he could do. He was powerless now. He had felt stronger when he was nobody’s savior.
The war was over. Naruto had earned Konoha’s respect. He would have been at peace, at last, with his life, but for the one person who still troubled his heart.
And yet, he thought, as Sasuke kissed him, this was still worth everything.
Title: Returning
Pairing: NaruSasu
Genre: Mostly angst
Rating: R to be safe (references to sex)
Words: 1000 (5 drabbles, 200 words each)
Warnings: Boys sexing; self-injury and general emoness.
1. Dreams
Naruto often dreamed about Sasuke’s return to Konoha, and about the night together that would follow.
Sometimes he imagined that the years of pent-up fury and desire would come roaring to the surface, and he’d shred those stupid Sound clothes and pound Sasuke into the wall until he was raw and bruised and bleeding. “Say it!” Naruto would growl. “Say you’re sorry, dammit!” But Sasuke wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t even look at Naruto, because if Naruto could see his eyes he’d see that they were begging for mercy, for release, for the forgiveness Naruto had secretly already granted him.
Other times, he dreamed Sasuke was standing by the window, eyes looking inward. Naruto would go over and put his arms around him, without a word. Sasuke would stand there far-off and stonelike, but wouldn’t push him away, and Naruto would hold him in the dark, waiting for the imperceptible quiver in the exhausted shoulders as the Uchiha’s shell cracked at last. Kissing Sasuke’s just-damp cheek, he would taste sanction in the salt and take the broken boy to bed.
But when Sasuke finally did come home, he insisted on spending the night alone, and no dream of Naruto’s matched that.
2. Experience
After Sasuke returned, Naruto noticed his kisses had changed. Twelve-year-old Sasuke had kissed…well, like a twelve-year old, clumsy and hormone-crazed, combined with the prissy, closed-mouthed reluctance inherent in the Uchiha. Those kisses had been awkward substitutes for words. Now, Sasuke’s kisses were a language in themselves. He kissed with a stealthy determination. Confident, yet creative, and not entirely dominant, either. He drew Naruto out, silently urging him to take command, to consume him, or to fill some empty space within. If Sasuke’s young kisses seemed driven by hunger, these seemed driven by thirst. A startling depth seemed to wait behind the still soft lips, the wordless tongue that danced and glided over his own. Naruto was thrilled and a little frightened by the way Sasuke used his tongue. The boy’s obvious experience was one thing he’d rather not think about. Fortunately, he was too busy enjoying himself to think. The hot wet pull of the kiss held more feeling than Sasuke’s stoic face ever dared to show. It was unguarded and unabashedly real.
Before, Sasuke had kissed Naruto as if he had never kissed anyone else. Now, he kissed him as if he never wanted to kiss anyone else again.
3. Shelter
Naruto loved outdoor sex. Maybe it was some deep-seated vulpine instinct that relished the prickle of grass on his bare skin and the fresh scent of the wind whipping above him. Maybe it was the warm, translucent quality to Sasuke’s pale skin, usually so cold, that only direct sunlight made visible. Maybe the troublemaker in him saw rebellion in it - the risk of getting caught in the middle of the forest with his pants down and a blushing Uchiha under him made it all the more arousing.
Sasuke, on the other hand, had a decided preference for beds. Sasuke liked it rough - it was unusual for neither of them to be bleeding somewhere when all was said and done - but afterward, he liked soft sheets. At first Naruto teased him for being a spoiled Uchiha brat, but then it struck him that maybe, subconsciously, Sasuke sought a sort of protection in the shelter of the covers. At night when they finished, Sasuke would often roll away to the side, and the soft damp space between them would widen. But later, hovering on the edge of sleep, Naruto would sometimes find Sasuke curled close to him in an almost innocent embrace.
4. Awakening
The first time he woke up alone, Naruto panicked, sick with the fear that Sasuke would disappear again for good. Eventually he grew used to it, but it didn’t stop him, early one morning, from following him silently out the door, to the edge of the Uchiha compound.
Sasuke stood among the shadows of the empty-socket houses, and immediately Naruto recognized the tattered sleeve of black and red fabric in his hands. He hung back, unsure if he wanted to be seen, but black eyes turned and caught him in his tracks. Like a snake poised to strike, Sasuke watched Naruto’s cautious approach, but as the blond drew closer, he relaxed in acquiescence. Naruto gently touched Sasuke’s arm, draped in the remnants of Itachi’s cloak, and recoiled at the startling dampness. He saw his fingers faintly stained crimson, and wondered if Sasuke’s tears had softened the long-dry blood embedded in the cloth. But Sasuke never cried anymore.
Avoiding Naruto’s questioning gaze, Sasuke pulled back the fabric - wrapped like a bandage, Naruto saw now - smearing a bright stripe across his forearm. A thin line of sharingan red rose to the surface as Naruto stared, disbelieving, at what his lover had done.
5. Peace
Naruto knew he couldn’t heal Sasuke completely. The hardest thing was realizing that he himself would never heal completely. He had imagined that once Sasuke came back everything would be set right. But the damage ran too deep for that.
For three years, he had trusted in the belief that to love someone was to save them. But the war had whittled down his naïve pre-teen idealism, and the faith that had sustained him was, after all, only an idea. Now that Sasuke had come home, finally admitting that he loved him, Naruto saw more clearly than ever that love didn’t fix everything. Pieces of Sasuke had healed and grown stronger, but others never would - and this in turn cut Naruto to the core. Sasuke could still wound him, with eyes like blades and silences that crushed. Naruto had done everything he could do. He was powerless now. He had felt stronger when he was nobody’s savior.
The war was over. Naruto had earned Konoha’s respect. He would have been at peace, at last, with his life, but for the one person who still troubled his heart.
And yet, he thought, as Sasuke kissed him, this was still worth everything.