Title: The Night
Author: Asuka Kureru (askerian at hotmail dot com)
Genre: romance, humor
Warnings: Edited for ffnet, still a very suggestive R though all on-screen penetration or open naughtiness has been removed. (I'm not that used to censoring myself, though, so if you find that I have overstepped the limit, please tell me so I can edit, instead of reporting me, thank you) The lemony version is up at mediaminer dot org and affnet. Links in my profile. It contains a bisexual threesome lemon. I've been told it's also very, I quote, "porny". :3
Beta: girlstarfish and Jamjar. :loves hard:
Notes: by popular demand, I give you The Night.
Sakura is unusually pretty tonight. Sasuke is disturbed that he even noticed - habitually he doesn't pay attention to things like that.
His awareness of Sakura's lips and the soft swell of her breasts under her usual red dress disturbs him less than his awareness of the muscles in Naruto's shoulders. He doesn't know what's wrong with him tonight; usually he's so good at ignoring his hormones that he can almost believe he is close to his goal of becoming the perfectly detached ninja.
Well, at least he's able to wait until he's home to satisfy his urges; not like a certain blond ninja he could name and a few suspiciously shaking bushes during long missions.
Hell, even Sakura has made her sleeping bag rustle in the night a few times in the years they've been traveling all over the Five Countries together. Sasuke, however, prides himself on being utterly focused. Besides sexual frustration makes him more aggressive, which is a very good thing when facing life-or-death situations.
He stays chaste for the good of his missions. Yes, that's it.
God, he can't be drunk already, he barely had two beers, not counting the one he's sipping right now, and Naruto couldn't have spiked them; he's not good enough to slip anything past both his teammates at once. Besides he's been too busy squabbling with Sakura all night long, the way they always do. It's bothersome, though right now it's also mildly entertaining, even despite knowing exactly how the play will develop and end.
Here comes the end of Act One, in the form of the bar's owner swooping down to tell them to get out of his establishment. If Sasuke was alone, or with Sakura - not that they would ever make that much noise on their own; Naruto is such a loudmouth - they'd get politely asked to lower their tone, but while most business owners accept Naruto's money just as well as anyone else's, they tend to cut the customers service a bit short. It is a mystery that Sasuke doesn't care to investigate, seeing as Naruto never complains anyway. If he had enough of a problem with it to ask for their assistance, Sasuke would give it; if Naruto wants to handle it on his own, if he feels like he can tolerate it, well, it's his problem anyway.
Sakura looks almost drunk enough to protest on his behalf, though she hasn't drunk that much more than Sasuke has. At the last second she deflates, and bows sheepishly in apology before Naruto drags them both out.
Sasuke is also disturbed by how little he wants to pull free of Naruto's hold on his wrist.
Sakura and Naruto's play continues, her trying to get him to let go of her hand, him grinning at her and commenting on how much like a date this feels to him, holding her hand like this. Sasuke eyes Naruto's large, callused hand, fingers still circling his wrist, palm rubbing against the back, and rolls his eyes. A date. Moron.
They stroll down the street, making the evening crowd part before them. Sakura is still trying to look angry, but she can't help but laugh. She's flushed. Sasuke has to admit she's kind of pretty. He wonders how far down the blush goes. He wonders next what's wrong with him. Hello, asexual avenger here? This is his teammate, and she's so far off-limits for a dozen reasons, the main ones being the stress it would put on their teamwork and the impossibility of predicting which disastrous way Naruto would react. Besides, she's in love with him, and he... is not. It would be callous to use her feelings just to get laid, and while he's not above being a right bastard when getting ahead and growing stronger are concerned, he doesn't fancy provoking Naruto into trying to kill him again. Moron came way too close that last time at the waterfall. Sasuke knows he has improved, but then, so has Naruto.
Naruto, whose palm is warm, so warm Sasuke wonders if maybe he has a slight fever. But the idiot isn't acting the least bit tired; hell, he's more hyperactive than usual. It might be because for some reason, he's really happy tonight. The mission they just finished wasn't that difficult, though not easy enough to be boring, and no one really risked their life. He didn't win free ramen, the Hokage didn't appoint him as her successor, he didn't manage to thoroughly kick Sasuke's ass and Sakura is still fervently denying that this is anything like a date. Sasuke wonders what's making Naruto's eyes glow like that, like he's about to burst with glee, what's making him grin like he's the happiest man in Konoha. It's just a night out with his team, and while that might not be a frequent occurrence, it is by no means the first time this ever happened.
The next bar Naruto wants to drag them into refuses them, because it is not a ninja business and they are still considered underage for civilians. That's bullshit and the three of them know it; Naruto just grins at the barmaid, in that way that shows lots of white teeth, narrows his eyes almost viciously and generally freaks people out, and drags them off again, leaving a very worried barmaid behind them. Naruto's probably never going to bother retaliating, but he never minds letting people sweat.
The bar after that is a strip bar. Sakura punches Naruto almost hard enough to make him let go, and he bumps into Sasuke's chest. Sakura apologizes; Sasuke shrugs. He was expecting something like that; besides, it's a small sacrifice to make sure that Naruto got what he deserved.
They stop on the way to buy dango for Sakura. Naruto wants to try some, but his hands are full. Sakura scowls and shoves one of her sticks in his mouth. Sasuke watches. He can see that Sakura wants to smile, that she's pretending not to know how close that is to openly hand-feeding the idiot; in the game they play, that would be admitting defeat. Naruto is licking his lips and sucking on the thin wooden stick happily, getting the last traces of red bean off it.
He doesn't like sweet things. Naruto's lips wouldn't taste that good to him.
He still wonders.
Time to get another beer.
He pulls them along with no warning. Naruto yelps, but follows, Sakura stumbling after him. For a second Sasuke feels like a mother duck, guiding her ducklings amidst the reeds. The crowd is thick; it bothers him. He doesn't like people. He wants something to drink, now, so that he can forget his thoughts, or at least have a good excuse for them.
He's not going to step inside that gambling den, and this one bar looks promising until he remembers that it's the favorite hangout of the Rookie Nine's teachers. Kakashi can come with them another day; but today Sasuke is quite virulently opposed to the idea of anyone intruding on their evening out.
The crowd is getting thicker. He pulls them away from the main street, refusing to deal with the people a second longer. Naruto laughs at him, pointing at a few red-lantern establishments and asking if that's where he meant to go. To shut him up Sasuke asks why he thinks he wouldn't. Sure enough, that works.
For all of two seconds. And then Naruto is going on about how leetle Sasuke-chan is all grown up, and Sakura threatens him with her dango sticks. She shrieks, and he whimpers back, and the prostitutes laugh. A heavy lady in a corset with fur trim tells Sasuke he's very lucky, and leers. He pretends he doesn't understand what she means. He's just glad Sakura and Naruto are fighting so loudly that they didn't hear it.
They're idiots, both of them.
He tries very hard not to smile.
Naruto takes control again at some point and drags them along. They're not far from his apartment. It has beer, and no other people. Sasuke is not protesting. Sakura makes vague noises about her mom and promising not to stay out too late. Sasuke arches an eyebrow and she caves. Just a half-hour.
Right. He believes that.
His wrist feels cold when Naruto lets go to open his door. Sakura looks faintly bewildered, as if she was just now realizing that they've been holding hands all along, and frowns, stepping inside and stopping there to glare at the mess, her shoes dangling from her hand. She looks like she wants to get angry, but she's not so drunk she doesn't see that blaming someone for making her let them hold her hand is ridiculous.
Naruto flutters around, shoving dirty laundry behind the furniture, such as it is. There is no couch. Sasuke is pretty sure there was, at some point. He arches an eyebrow. Naruto looks sheepish and to avoid answering, pushes them toward the coffee table. Sasuke grabs a pillow, lobs it at Sakura when she protests that she can't be expected to sit on the ground. It's not that dirty. Naruto is messy, but not that unhygienic. Or maybe Sasuke, being a lone teenager male, just doesn't have the same standards as Sakura does.
The bottle hits the table under his nose and he's swallowing it before even checking what it is.
He doesn't cough, though that takes an effort. He maintains his perfect composure. Naruto is laughing anyway.
It's not beer, that's for sure.
He takes another sip, glaring disdainfully at the idiot as he sprawls lazily on the floor, propped up against the table. It makes it slide, the edge digging into Sasuke's stomach. He refrains from shoving it back towards him. He's not that childish anymore.
He doesn't protest when Sakura gets on Naruto's case for annoying him though. He sips again - whisky. Hmm.
He glares at Naruto when the idiot attempts to steal the bottle. Shouldn't have put it under his nose.
Besides, Sakura looks drunk enough to him. She hasn't been glaring and attacking Naruto that belligerently, or even that openly, for a few years. It's... amusing, what she looks like with her eyes shooting green fire and her hair mussed up and her chest heaving - he so didn't notice that. And Naruto - feh; he doesn't need it.
His back hits the floor and he blinks up at the ceiling. He's trapped under warm hard muscle and warm smooth skin and a wide, toothy smile, and he should kick Naruto off him, but his legs are still trapped under the coffee table, so he doesn't.
He just stares at Naruto's feral grin and Naruto's gleaming eyes and wonders hazily when he became so heavy, the kind of heavy that traps him and holds him down and anchors him, the kind of heavy he can't escape, even though he knows he should at least pretend to try.
Naruto bounces off, the bottle in hand. Sasuke glares. He's cold now. He wants to pounce on the idiot and beat him up for making him feel cold.
Predictably faithful, Sakura bops Naruto over the head even as he drinks, making him choke. He glares sulkily at Sakura, snaps back. Sasuke uses the distraction to lean over the corner of the table and reach for the bottle Naruto's still holding. Sakura and Naruto are too busy yelling at each other to notice, all passionate yelling and flushed cheeks and narrowed eyes.
Then Sakura shoves Naruto.
Then Naruto shoves back.
Then they're kissing.
Sasuke doesn't understand, but somehow it doesn't really matter. He puts the bottle down, carefully, staring at his teammates. Naruto's eyes are wide with surprise, Sakura's narrowed in anger. She bites him, pulls back. So there! she yells. Sasuke doesn't know if that makes any sense, but who the hell cares.
A part of him is wondering who the hell spiked their drinks. Another part is faintly disgruntled - Sakura is in love with him, not Naruto, isn't she? A smaller part is vaguely thinking that he should say something before anything drastic happens.
The rest of his brain is watching as Naruto's eyes narrow in turn. As Sakura's teeth are bared in a snarl he would never have expected of her. As Naruto rolls slowly, gracefully, to crouch on his hands and feet. As she hisses a challenge, tossing her hair back in a quick, aggressive gesture. As he pounces.
He watches, as they kiss and fight and kiss on the floor, and wonders what the hell happened, and wonders why the fuck they're ignoring him. It's like he has ceased to exist; Naruto treats Sakura like she's his opponent and Sakura treats Naruto like she wants him bad. That's his spot - both of these are his spots. He's the one Naruto challenges and the one Sakura crushes on, and he really dislikes having his weight in the balance of their team suddenly disappear, and neither of them having the decency to notice.
So when he gets the chance, he wrenches Sakura away. He tucks her against his side, and jumps back, and glowers at Naruto, holding her possessively.
Naruto snarls, and Sasuke vaguely knows that there's something weird with him - his eyes, his teeth maybe - but he can't pinpoint it, and quite frankly he doesn't care. He's going to teach that bastard - he's going to teach them both. He thought Sakura was cleverer than that - and there she is, struggling against his side as if she doesn't understand that she isn't supposed to like kissing Naruto so much, that she was supposed to at least attempt kissing him before moving on to the blond.
He doesn't want to let her move on. He doesn't love her, but she's given herself to him, again and again in the last years, since they've been a team, she's given herself to him and she isn't allowed to take it back!
He grabs her arms and pulls her against his chest and kisses her hard, and she tastes of dango and alcohol and she whimpers, presses herself against him - her breasts small and so firm, her soft skin and gently yielding flesh and the sinewy muscles hiding underneath - and Naruto is growling and he smirks into the kiss, and licks her lips wetly. Take that, dead-last.
He doesn't see Naruto move, but suddenly there are teeth biting his shoulder and Sakura is wrenched away from him - cloth tears loudly, a zipper is lowered, the table clanks against the wall as Naruto shoves her down on it, legs dangling from the edge, and crawls over her, hissing at Sasuke threateningly. She screams in fury, scratches his chest; it makes him growl, or maybe purr, and he leans down to lick the hollow in her collarbone, his eyes still on Sasuke.
Sakura kicks and squirms and struggles under Naruto, still raking her nails down his chest. Sasuke sees the cuts heal before they're even finished. They don't even bleed. He wants Naruto to bleed, at least a little.
Sakura screams again, but it's not all anger this time. It's shock, too, and...
... god. He's moving over her so slowly, teeth so white and sharp and the play of muscles in his shoulders, in his back, and her throat as she throws her head back to moan and whimper, and the way she arches off the table and digs her nails into his back - it hurts, it hurts, he's an outsider again and he wants - he wants - he wants to see, he wants to do, he wants to be a part of that, too.
He snarls, or whimpers maybe. He punches Naruto's shoulder, shoves him. He shakes with the need to beat him up, but the son of a bitch doesn't let him - his hand shoots forward and for a minute they're struggling to get hold of each other, a tangle of arms and fingers digging into hard muscles and shoving at each other - Sakura gasps under them, and Sasuke gets distracted, and then he's caught, tugged against Naruto's chest and there's a fist closed in his hair and teeth on his nape and he struggles, not knowing where to put his hands anymore not to hurt Sakura.
He's pulled more fully between them. He stops resisting.
Afterwards, Sakura is all boneless and panting under him, and he's glad when Naruto's weight disappears, letting Sasuke roll off her cautiously. He doesn't know where to put his knees and elbows and head, and he's too tired to actually get off the table. He slumps half on her, half on the cool wood, face down. Naruto gives his sweaty neck a nuzzle, then slumps on Sakura's other side. Naruto's hand keeps running over her, sometimes over Sasuke as well where they overlap. Sasuke twitches, annoyed. He wants to rest now. He doesn't care that his feet are dangling over the edge and that his skin is sticking to the wood and that his sweat is cooling uncomfortably. He wants to rest, that's all, and if someone suggests he walk anywhere just now, he'll ...
... he doesn't know what he'll do. Right now, what he's doing is taking a nap.
He wakes up when Naruto starts caressing Sakura again. What the hell is wrong with that moron? Sasuke hisses and slaps Naruto's hand off when his fingers brush against his bruised skin. Naruto shrugs and goes back to Sakura.
She launches into a sleepy, rambling speech on why anal-to-vaginal sex is a no-no, which makes Sasuke wince. He so doesn't want to be thinking about infections right now. Sometimes, Sakura's almost eidetic memory is quite the turn-off.
Naruto's solution is, of course, to take a shower.
Sasuke could list the flaws in this plan, but it would involve seriously thinking about it. He closes his eyes again, and falls into a light doze. Sleep is near.
And then he's rolled onto his back and lifted against a strong chest and he has never felt as humiliated as he does right now, swept off his feet by that idiot, with unmentionable fluids drying on his skin. He struggles. Naruto puts him down, and laughs at him when Sasuke's ass reminds him of the reason why walking on his own is a bad idea.
Sasuke starts plotting murder when Naruto throws him over his shoulder like a pirate with his captive and carries him to the bathroom, still laughing. Sakura is already there, slumped in the small bathtub and a blissful expression on her face.
Naruto has the incredible presumption of getting under the shower with him and starting to grope him under the pretense of washing him. Sasuke elbows him in the ribs hard, and has to lean on the tiled wall to stay up when his legs wobble. Naruto sneers, and suddenly Sasuke's chest is pressed against the cold tiles and he has a hard body at his back.
Sasuke refuses to make a sound as Naruto washes him clean. He's sore and bruised and it stings in a few spots, but he's not about to complain; Naruto would be too amused.
He feels something hard against his hip and groans. No way. Naruto doesn't attempt to do anything though, plopping him down in the small tub with Sakura. It's so tiny he could lean back against one side and still touch the other side with his hand; he doesn't know where to put his legs. He ends up spreading them, his feet on both sides of Sakura. Thank god there's just no way in hell Naruto can fit in too. He's not going to have sex for at least a century, especially not in a pocket-sized bathroom.
Her pink hair is stuck to her skin, and he observes how her back arches, how her muscles tense and play under her skin. Her waist is so slim. He runs a finger up her spine, softly, barely a whisper of wet finger against damp skin, and she gasps. He caresses her back again, because there's a scar that he remembers her getting. It bled a lot; he thought she had been more seriously hit than that. He thought she was, in fact, going to die. In the end she did stay ten days at the hospital, which was a novelty; Naruto and him had always been the ones to end up there before. He remembers the vigil at her door and the apple he abandoned on her bedside table a few seconds before she woke up.
She moans and he looks at her. She's gazing at him; her eyes are still weirdly hazy. He frowns; no one slipped them anything, did they? If Naruto got the same drug as the two of them, it would have been flushed out already, anyway; his metabolism is incredibly fast. And seeing what Sasuke sees when he glances over the edge of the tub, Naruto's arousal is far from fading.
In fact, as freaky as it is, Sasuke's body is starting to feel suspiciously warm once again.
Sasuke manages to climb out of the bathtub without knocking into her, but he's not sure how exactly. He stands, legs shaking, looking down at them. Naruto's eyes are closed and he purrs, as he feels around. His hand feels like an electrical shock to Sasuke when it makes contact with his thigh and nudges him. He resists for a second, then steps forward, tensing slightly when the hand slips to the back of his thigh.
Naruto grins up at him, and nuzzles him. He's still... interested. Sasuke wonders what's wrong with him. But hey, rival on his knees for him - yeah, he could tolerate it, he guesses.
Two seconds later Sakura and him have been thrown over Naruto's shoulders and are being carried to his bedroom.
Son of a bitch. He's going to kick his ass the second he can get down - which right now he can't, seeing as unbalancing him would send Sakura into the wall...
Then they arrive to the bedroom, and Naruto sits Sasuke - still wet - down on the edge of his bed, and Sasuke would jump back up and pounce and break his face, but it's a bit hard because Sakura is suddenly on his lap.
Apparently, they're going to have sex again. Well, okay. Why not.
He could do without, but it's not as if that's going to kill him.
The shrill yell doesn't really wake him up. Some part of him hears it, but the remainder is too busy resting. He aches all over and he's a little cold and very tired. He just mutters something, asking them to shut up. He's trying to sleep here. Can't they see?
Partners, his ass. Couldn't even let him rest when he needs it.
And now he's cold. Where did his blanket go?
... ah, Sakura stole it.
Sakura is naked. Why the hell is Sakura naked?
Huh, whatever; he wants the blanket. It's HIS blanket. If he could even open his eyes all the way, he'd get it back. She can get her own, damn it.
His ribs are poked sharply and he jumps, startled out of his doze. He lands on the floor, on his ass. His ass hurts. He's not sure why, but the way Naruto is grinning doesn't make Sasuke happy about him. Why the fuck is he naked too, anyway? They're all naked. What the hell?
They're naked, and his ass hurts, and he can't remember how the previous night ended, and the room stinks of sex, and Naruto is grinning. Somehow, Sasuke has a feeling that this means he should be angry at someone. Possibly Naruto - and Sakura, for stealing his blanket to cover her nudity.
Even then, he can't bring himself to be that concerned.