Title: Exponentiation
Rating: Very M lol
Summary: The Hokage and his consort.
Warnings: Heed the rating lol
A/N: I wasn’t sure where this fic was going so I just wrote what came to mind. I apologize for the disjointed transitions D: (this was possibly one of the most difficult Naruto fics I've ever written because it just wouldn't come). Also, many hugs and kisses to my beta, sowell. She’s amaaaazing :3 Additional love goes to Adi for naming this because I am complete fail at titles.

---

i.

When Naruto turns twenty-five, the Rokudaime gives him his job.

Of course, it isn’t quite so simple. But Naruto has long since earned his place in the village and when the time arrives, the council members are soundly outvoted. Naruto doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Sakura does both and draws him into a hug, her slender arms cradling his shoulders. Sasuke passes a hand over his face and says, “Shit.”

Kakashi slides from the Hokage’s seat and, with more enthusiasm than is perhaps appropriate, offers Naruto the desk where documents and scrolls have been stacked like mountains in a range. But even the threat of late evenings and bleary eyes isn’t enough to dampen his mood. He stands at the cusp of a dream realized.

He begins his run as Hokage by getting kidnapped. Specifically, by his friends.

They tug him along the sloping roofs, weaving through the industrial forest of chimney pipes. Down a fire escape and into an open window where curtains wrap around their legs, they slip into an apartment.

“About time,” Sakura says. Then she pushes a cold drink into his hand, condensation dampening his palm and the crevices between his fingers.

After a round of toasts, Naruto perches on the windowsill and watches the shadows lengthen on a Konoha that he can finally call his own. Sasuke sits beside him, leg drawn up, knee bent and foot digging into Naruto’s thigh.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” Naruto says. Sasuke’s eyes shift focus between Naruto’s face and the curtain that has curled around his shoulder, and says nothing.

“Naruto-ku—um. Naruto-sama.” Hinata breaks away from Kiba and Shino and bows her head as she steps forward. Naruto waves off her deference with an embarrassed laugh. “Congratulations. I’m really happy for you.”

“Show him how happy, Hinata!” Ino calls from the table, and Hinata flushes crimson as laughter erupts among his friends.

Naruto rubs the back of his head and simply says, “Thanks.”

Once, years and years ago, Naruto had taken her hands in his and thanked her for trying to save his life. And then he’d asked her never to do it again with the promise that, next time, he’d be strong enough to protect everyone, to prevent something of that magnitude. She had smiled and nodded and curled her fingers against his palms.

At his side, Sasuke has risen to lean against the wall and speak in quiet tones with Sakura. Her hands toy with the zipper of her dress as Sasuke listens, his expression devoid of mockery and his mouth caught at the edge of a smile. Naruto rests his head against the windowpane and tries to decipher the feeling fluttering in his gut.

Afterward, when Sakura finally shoos them from her apartment, Naruto takes the road back to the Hokage tower and his new home—a full suite built into the mountain, recently cleaned and furnished to receive its new occupant. It had stood vacant for years, ever since Kakashi had refused the accommodations when he’d become Hokage.

It only takes a moment before Sasuke falls into stride beside him. Naruto offers him a smile, but Sasuke’s eyes are averted, and Naruto has to draw in a slow breath to try and recover his good humor. Leave it to Sasuke to moderate his mood even on the day he finally achieves his life’s goal. Naruto wouldn’t have wanted to share it with anyone else, of course, but the jerk could at least offer him a sign of approval.

But Sasuke remains silent, and Naruto begins to wonder if, perhaps, this is it. Sasuke’s presence, the simple notion of his companionship—it is no different from any other given day and perhaps this... this solidarity, on this day, is Sasuke’s sign. It’s a bit of a stretch, but Naruto has always believed that Sasuke’s mind works in convoluted ways—or perhaps Naruto has just learned to read Sasuke’s brand of subtlety. The thought makes Naruto smile.

Beneath the stairwell leading up to the Hokage tower is an inconspicuous door that reads ‘restricted access.’ It is one of three entrances to the Hokage’s suite, the other two being the route leading from the tower itself and a hidden emergency exit. Naruto unlocks it by closing his hand around the doorknob and infusing his chakra through its receptors. Behind him, Sasuke grunts softly, and, from experience, Naruto knows to interpret that particular sound as general interest.

He turns to bid Sasuke a good night and jerks back when Sasuke’s face looms pale and close. His hips and shoulder blades knock into the door behind him, and Sasuke moves in, arms braced at either side of Naruto’s head. Naruto can’t help but reach up, hands poised in defense.

“Sasuke?” Naruto says. Tentative. Gauging. Sasuke can be unpredictable at times.

“I haven’t congratulated you yet,” Sasuke says. His voice is mild, his breath a warm spot against Naruto’s jaw, just below his ear.

So Naruto waits. Sasuke’s body heat charges the air between them, anticipation poised like the roiling clouds of a storm waiting for a conduit to present the quickest path to contact. Naruto turns his head, just enough to watch Sasuke’s mouth part, to stare at the swell of his bottom lip and wonder at the strange euphoria suddenly dancing along his spine and spreading outward.

“Well?” Naruto finally says, an indeterminable length of time later. “I’m waiting.”

Sasuke smirks and says nothing. He kisses him instead.

ii.

Teamwork, once learned, is difficult to forget. Particularly if that lesson had been seared into their psyches through the burn of chakra and the precipice of death. Which, if Naruto thinks about it, probably means their teamwork had been pretty shitty back then.

But years of practice did well to refine their reflexes so that they move in rapid tandem to the choreography written into straining muscles and stretched ligaments. Every turn and lunge and flip is a succession of indicators in a language their bodies have memorized. Naruto presses forward while Sasuke slips behind, intent conveyed through the minutiae of a look, a shift in stance, the flick of a wrist. Which glance means ‘stay back,’ which reactions mean ‘no chance in hell,’ ‘don’t fight without me,’ ‘your shirt’s falling off again’ (that one usually earns Naruto an impatient glare which needs no hidden code to interpret; Naruto doesn’t understand why Sasuke still wears gaping shirts with billowing sleeves anyway seeing as he’d lost the cursed seal years ago... Naruto suspects Sasuke just likes the dramatic effect, but is wise enough to keep this opinion to himself).

This recent development between them, however, is like the slate has been washed clean, each of them fumbling to relearn a language of body movements that hasn’t been beaten into them on a battlefield. Where the tilt of his head and the passage of fingers along a sleeve mean one thing in the midst of an enemy attack, the brace of his feet and the angle of his hips mean something else entirely (and far more distracting) in the middle of a council meeting.

Naruto has to resist drumming his fingers or looking away from his droning guest while Sasuke stands by the door, gloved finger tracing the outer seam of his pants and perfectly aware of how, because Naruto knows Sasuke can remain still for hours when necessary, Naruto will construe the innocent gesture as something lewd and suggestive.

When the meeting ends and Naruto steps away from the office, drags off the heavy robes and retreats to the shadowy corners of his suite, the sign language changes yet again. This, Naruto thinks, is far simpler.

Fingers gripping his hair, ‘I want you.’ An open mouth, hot against hipbones, ‘Relax. You’ll like this.’ A hand on the small of his back, ‘Closer.’ And then all attempts at nuance are abandoned and Naruto digs his heels into the backs of Sasuke’s thighs. “Sasuke, Sasuke, yes, harder, geez, fuck fuck fuck—”

iii.

When Sasuke returns from a reconnaissance mission three days behind schedule, Naruto doesn’t tell him that he’d been planning to leave that very evening with Sakura and Sai to search for him. Naruto knows it would have probably cost him much credibility with the council, but he had weighed the consequences against the possibility that Sasuke’s delay might be the result of injury, and decided the council could go sit on their kunai.

“So?” Naruto asks, after Sasuke and his team have been inspected for injuries. He contains his impatience because anything more and he might start shouting, and Sasuke looks stretched thin already.

“Our surveillance was detected,” Sasuke says. Behind him, one of his teammates looks away with telltale guilt. “But they never got close enough to see our village symbol so we removed our forehead protectors and led them into River Country. We lost them after crossing into Wind Country.”

Naruto can feel his pulse drumming in his ears, nearly drowning out Sasuke’s words. He nods, unable to speak, feelings and words lodged in his throat. He reminds himself that this is Sasuke. Sasuke, who might always leave—for the village, for himself, for some misguided pursuit of deliverance—but he always returns too. Whether in days or years, Sasuke has always found his way back home (although Naruto has learned that enduring Sasuke’s absences is no longer within his capacity and so has vowed to never let it happen again unless Sasuke is away specifically on Naruto’s orders).

When they’re alone, he combs trembling fingers through Sasuke’s hair, buries his face in Sasuke’s collar and lets the cloth absorb the evidence of his relief. Sasuke passes dry lips over Naruto’s temple and mutters, “Idiot.”

Naruto presses close until he can feel every weary line of Sasuke’s body. The lack of rest is evident in the dark smudges beneath his eyes and the slight sag of his shoulders. Naruto knows he should send Sasuke away and order him to sleep for no less than ten hours... and he will, but not before he presses his cheek to gritty skin that smells of sweat and wind and dirt, and inhales that missed scent.

Anything sentimental he might say, Sasuke will label as unnecessary. But Naruto knows that some part of Sasuke appreciates hearing it because while his eyes will shift uneasily, his hands always find Naruto’s in the quiet moments afterwards.

“Be more careful next time, idiot,” Naruto says. “I’m not ready to lose you yet.”

Sasuke snorts and says, “I’m not ready to die yet.”

iv.

Sasuke’s discipline is renowned among Konoha’s ranks. Which is why Naruto enjoys unraveling him and delights in the moments when Sasuke smirks and accepts the challenge.

Sasuke reclining on Naruto’s balcony, his shoulders and the windswept tousle of his hair above the ledge, is a common sight to the villagers who pass below in their daily routines. What they don’t see is their Hokage hidden behind the stone, crouched between Sasuke’s legs. The patrolling ANBU are another matter, but Naruto only gives them a passing thought before dismissing them.

His hands rub circles into the skin of Sasuke’s inner thighs while his eyes flicker up, watching for a reaction, fingers creeping back and down and in until Sasuke calmly leans forward, dips out of view of the public, and drags Naruto’s mouth against his, stealing the taste of himself from Naruto’s tongue. Then he slides wet lips to Naruto’s ear and moans, just so Naruto knows this isn’t a victory, it’s a concession.

Naruto wouldn’t want it any other way.

v.

Exactly a year after Naruto is appointed Hokage, he decides that discretion is overrated. Among the ninja population, there are few who haven’t figured it out (and in fact, Naruto takes pride in this detail because he believes it is a reflection of their diligence and awareness although he refrains from pointing this out to Sasuke). And among those who are closest to him, there are none who don’t know and several who claim to have seen it coming for years. Therefore, Naruto sees no reason as to why, at least in close company, they should hide the status of their relationship.

At his birthday party, when the light of twenty-six candles flicker across the faces of his gathered friends, Sakura touches his shoulder and says, “Make a wish, Naruto.” Naruto turns to Sasuke and reaches out to kiss him.

Or, at least, he tries to. Sasuke steps neatly aside and Naruto’s lips meet empty air. He grapples at nothing before righting himself and directing an affronted glare at Sasuke, who regards him with a warning in his eyes. But Naruto just squares his shoulders and tries again.

Sasuke is a fast bastard.

“Stay still, you difficult asshole!”

“Don’t touch me, moron.”

Sasuke dodges again, but Naruto is tenacious as they zigzag around the room to the increasing volume of their friends’ laughter.

“I’m your Hokage, damn it, do as I say!”

Sasuke, face red with indignity, finally stops. He slaps a hand over Naruto’s approaching face, bringing Naruto to a stop as well with a muffled expletive. “Stop making a fool of yourself and blow out your damn candles.”

Naruto swipes his tongue across Sasuke’s palm, snickering when Sasuke snatches his hand away, cheeks flushed even darker.

“Shameless,” Sasuke mutters, wiping his hand down the front of his shirt.

“Sakura said to make a wish. I want you to kiss me,” Naruto says, and completely ignores the way half of his friends affect disinterest while the other half stare avidly.

“No.”

“Sasuke, it’s just a kiss,” Sakura says, and Naruto almost kisses her instead for the support.

“Then you kiss him.”

Naruto fumes and returns to his cake. Sakura gives him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Just make another wish, Naruto.”

Afterwards, when Naruto has put away his gifts, which include an orange patterned belt, a set of blank scrolls, and a cooking book (‘101 Ways to Spice up Ramen’), he changes into his pajamas and joins Sasuke on the sofa. Sasuke continues reading a scroll containing the parameters of his next mission, his eyes hidden behind his bangs. Naruto deliberately sits so that their sides are flush and places a hand on Sasuke’s thigh.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”

Sasuke gives him an impatient look. “Why is it so important?”

“Because!” Naruto says, before blushing at his juvenile response. “Because... I’m not ashamed. And you shouldn’t be either.”

Sasuke sighs and sets his scroll aside. “You’re such a...” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Do you think I’m ashamed?”

Naruto wonders if Sasuke is being deliberately evasive. “... Yes?”

For a moment, Naruto is certain Sasuke is going to hit him or do something violent. But he only sighs and closes his eyes, as if his restraint pains him.

Perhaps ‘ashamed’ is inaccurate. Naruto doesn’t actually believe Sasuke is ashamed. Sasuke is just incapable of publicly displaying any of the less abrasive emotions—or unwilling, which amounts to the same thing. But Sasuke is also unwilling to try, and the only conclusions Naruto can gather from that are less than encouraging.

“I’m not ashamed,” Sasuke says. He drags a hand through his hair; Naruto understands his frustration. They’ve never tried to put into words the feelings that pass between them, the shortness of breath that results from little more than the other’s proximity. But Naruto gives him an expectant look anyway. “It doesn’t matter who knows—the whole village or just us.”

Naruto responds with a surprised tilt of his brows.

“Because whoever knows will understand,” Sasuke explains, “that you belong to me first, Konoha second. But that doesn’t mean I want to make out with you in front of your friends.” He emphasizes this with a glare.

But Naruto doesn’t notice because he is having trouble getting past the ‘you belong to me’ part. Something warm kindles in his chest, pleasant and comforting in a way Naruto only feels when he is folded into Sasuke’s angles, bodies and limbs overlapping.

Naruto stands and shrugs off his gray t-shirt. “Take off your pants.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “Naruto—” he begins, and then closes his mouth when Naruto drops his boxers.

“Take off your pants,” Naruto says again.

Sasuke only gets them down to his thighs before Naruto crawls into his lap and brushes his knuckles over the dark hair between Sasuke’s legs. He curls his body over Sasuke’s and rotates his hips, pressing back until Sasuke’s eyes squeeze shut and he pants Naruto’s name into his collarbones.

vi.

Naruto continues to test Sasuke in public, not because he needs validation but because it amuses him to see how flustered Sasuke can get. Unfortunately, Sasuke is very difficult to ruffle, but Naruto doesn’t let that deter him.

Their friends are supportive, but the civilians who had opposed such a young Hokage, who remember Sasuke as the missing nin who betrayed the village, find inventive ways to express their displeasure. Rumors spread about how the last Uchiha has become the Hokage’s whore in order to gain rank.

But Naruto’s ninjas are loyal and they quell the rumors quickly. Not before they reach Naruto though.

“Who cares what they think?” Sasuke says. His hands are braced against tempered glass and it’s dark enough that, if anyone feels inclined to look up at the window of their Hokage’s suite, they would see only the reflection of the dim city lights across the windowpane.

Naruto places light kisses down the nape of Sasuke’s neck and digs his thumbs into the muscles of Sasuke’s lower back, massaging away the tension there.

“I’m Hokage. I’m supposed to care,” Naruto says. His hands move lower, fingers pressing deftly into naked skin. A quick glance reveals Sasuke’s body is responding to the stimulation but his pulse and breathing remain even. One hand curves around a sharp hipbone to grasp Sasuke’s growing erection while the other reaches over to dip into the open jar on the end table. “And I don’t want them saying things like that about you.”

Sasuke makes a small sound of dismissal before arching his back, just a fraction. Naruto licks a stripe across Sasuke’s shoulder blade and reaches down with slick fingers to cup Sasuke’s balls.

“What if they’re right?”

Naruto stills for a moment before he frowns and bites down on Sasuke’s shoulder. His hand slides back, one finger pressing lightly at Sasuke’s entrance. “Don’t bullshit me.”

Sasuke shifts on his feet, spreading his legs further. Naruto slips one finger in and notes how Sasuke is still regulating his breathing with frustrating control.

“What if I’m just using you?” Sasuke whispers, his breath frosting the glass.

Naruto shoves another finger in, deeper this time, enough to make Sasuke’s breath catch. “You wouldn’t.”

Sasuke rolls his hips at the same time he glances back to look at Naruto from beneath hooded eyes. “What makes you so sure?”

But Naruto is unconvinced. He pulls his fingers free slowly, pausing to rub at a spot just short of withdrawing, and watches Sasuke’s eyelashes flutter with desire. “Do you really think you can make me doubt you?”

Naruto enters him in increments, gaze narrowed on Sasuke’s reflection in the glass. Sasuke smirks back and reaches down to push away Naruto’s hand on his cock. He arches his back a bit more as he takes himself in hand.

“How would you define a whore?” Sasuke says. Naruto scrapes his nails up Sasuke’s thighs, angry red marks left in their wake. “Sexual services in exchange for monetary compensation? Or is that too specific? Services in exchange for something of subjective value?”

Naruto draws back before rocking forward again, setting a moderate pace, his chest pressed to Sasuke’s back despite the heat that pools between them, making skin damp and sticky. He flicks a thumb over the leaking head of Sasuke’s erection, gathers the moisture along his fingertips and paints wet trails up Sasuke’s chest.

“By your definition, maybe I’m the whore.”

Sasuke squeezes around him before turning his head, a question in his eyes. But Naruto just smiles and catches his chin to hold him there long enough for a kiss.

With Sasuke, it has never been an issue of ‘I want you.’ Want implies motive; it implies a conscious decision. But there has never been more than one answer for the question that is Sasuke. Naruto needs him and it really is as simple as that.

I need you, Naruto doesn’t say, lips parted, tongue tracing patterns against Sasuke’s teeth. I need you to be here. I need you to care. His hips snap forward, sharper than before. Sasuke has to steady his legs to keep from collapsing against the glass. I need your help even if I can’t always say it out loud. I need you to need this too.

Sasuke is kissing him back, biting at tender skin and shoving his hips to meet Naruto’s with equal force. His breath hitches, grows thinner on building gasps; his hand on his cock moves faster in quick, short jerks.

“Naruto,” he says, breathless, a question still lingering in the pitch of his voice.

“Figure it out,” Naruto whispers into his hairline, and watches as Sasuke leans into the glass and shudders, the taut lines of his face traced in moonlight.

End.