This is what happens when Midnight momentarily loses inspiration in her three work-in-progress SasuNaruSasu fics. She decides to write a yaoi one-shot SasuNaru based on Groove Coverage's Poison, which, by the way, is a great song to listen to if you enjoy this fic. Which Midnight hopes you do. Before she starts questioning why she's doing this and referring to herself in third person, let's just have Midnight remind you this is rated M for YAOI YAOI YAOI, she has no ownership over Uzumaki Naruto or his afflliates, and she has no idea where this fic will go…

Midnight knows the tense changes from past to present. Sorry if it gets confusing, but Naruto isn't exactly thinking straight.

Midnight also realizes she probably needs help…oh well XD Oh yeah one more warning – this is dark. Blood chains whips yeah.

Enjoy, please!

It burned.

Every inch of me burned.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think.

I could only want.

And need.

And fight.

And I did fight, as I burned.

I wasn't burning.

He was burning.

He was burning me, with the fiery poison of his lips over my red and raw skin, with his pointed nails, with his sharpened roughness, with something I can't even name.

He hadn't entered me yet, but he was already under my skin.

I don't remember how this began.

I don't know how this will end.

Every molecule of me wants to scream. I want him inside of me, I want him to take me, I want the torment to be over, but it's been going on for hours now, so many hours, and I don't think he means for it to ever end. I want to scream for him to screw me take me fuck me love me love me love me love me please love me but I guess he anticipated that I would want to scream, since he's pulled down my forehead protector to gag me. He's also tied his own forehead protector around my eyes, so I can't see, I can just feel him, and God, I can feel him.

The two forehead protectors are the only articles of clothing on my body. He shredded the rest ages ago.

"Naruto-kun." His toxic tongue wiped up the tears cascading down my cheek through my blindfold, the tears I tried to hold back at first, but I had to give into eventually. The pain almost made me wish I could die, except I couldn't imagine dying without feeling the release between my legs that's been torturing me for hours now. "You're so close now, aren't you? Do you want me?"

My throat aches to scream please God yes please now I need it I need it I need you but I can't I can't say it, he won't let me say it.

And so I try to nod, but I can't move my head. I can't see it, but I know I must be covered in my blood. I've lost track of how many times I've felt what must have been a kunai carve into my flesh. It's always a new place, sometimes on my stomach, sometimes my chest, sometimes my neck, but always shallow enough to keep me alive, if only just. I can feel the blood start to cake, though the wounds will make scars that won't heal. He licks up the blood sometimes, and sometimes he doesn't, but that only makes it sting more, and it makes the cuts burn burn burn.

Sometimes it wasn't knives (oh oh oh but it is now, it's knives now, and it's oh oh oh it's very near to where – oh God I'm crying again my whole body is shaking I can't take this much longer I just can't – to where I wish he would put himself, the knives are between my legs and he takes care not to slice into the parts of me that would damage my ability to please him but he comes very close, oh God he comes very close, close enough that I know it will burn even more if he actually does finally take me), sometimes it was chains, like the chains that hold my legs wide open and pull them apart tightly, or the chains that hold my wrists high, high above my head. The chains make aches and they cut into me and they constrict me and keep me exactly where he wants me and it's been that way for so many minutes I don't know how to use my muscles right anymore.

Sometimes it was whips, because I think he likes to see me twitch and spasm and freeze like I do whenever the harsh leather breaks my skin. I'm attuned to my senses now. I can feel the blood leave me.

But that's not the worst, the knives and the chains and the whips aren't the worst, even though they've made me come so close to losing consciousness (they always slash me back into painful awakeness before I slip away anyway). Not even his nails and his teeth are the worst, even though they bite me and rip me and tear me greedily, as if there is a secret hidden under the pestilence of skin that he has to uncover. No, the worst is his hands.

His hands, which torture and torment me more than any blade.

His hands, which run up and down my naked body, as feather-light as the weapons are sharp.

His hands, which tweak me and tease me.

His hands, which find the spots below my stomach and stroke them, pet them, fondle them, sending waves – tsunamis, hurricanes – of almost-there pleasure that stops just short of toppling me over the edge into the actual bliss that would make me forget the pain.

"Now, yes?" His voice pierces the rhythm of my agony, slithering, fighting, into me. "You want me now?"

Again, I try to nod, but my bloody neck refuses to respond. He laughs, and I don't hear my tormentor when he does. I hear Sasuke. I hear Sasuke, whom I want inside of me so badly. Who I've wanted since I've known what it is to want. I realize, weakly, that I still somehow, love him. So much that it consumes me. So much that I let him consume me.

For the first time since this new life of burning began, there was no pain inflicted on my body. I felt Sasuke climb off of me, so I could breathe freely. I found, after so many gasps, it hurt to breathe freely, it seared my lungs. More tears found their way to my jaw, but this time he didn't lick them away. He kissed them away. So, so softly.

"Naruto-kun." His hands were gentle as he smoothed my bloody, sweaty hair out of my face. "Do you remember who I am?"

If I had energy, I would say I was shocked when I felt elegant fingers unfasten the forehead protector from around my lips.

"Uchiha…Sasuke." My voice sounded like death.

And then the unthinkable happened. I was no longer blind. He gently, gently, removed the other protector from my eyes.

And he was beautiful.

I couldn't even look at my own ruined body. He was over me, straddling me, not touching me except for one finger that trailed back and forth, back and forth, over my heated crotch, sending chills through me. He was coated in slick and shiny blood. My blood. It was in his hair, staining his teeth, embedded into his nails. And yet, he was panting and ivory coated in scarlet and ebony and he was beautiful.

"Uchiha Sasuke," I repeated throatily. He smiled. Oddly, my head started to clear, and the voices became more real to me.

"Good, good." The finger started to deepen and I tried to thrust into it, but I was sticky with blood. "And do you know why you're here, Naruto-kun? Do you know why you're with me? Do you know why I've done this to you?"

I coughed uncontrollably. I wonder if I'm dying. Sasuke doesn't seem to think so. Instead, he procures a wet washcloth out of seemingly nowhere and begins to mop up the wounds.

The chains stay where they are.

"No," I croak. "I don't understand."

"You don't remember why you're here?"

I try to shake my head as he soothes the cool washcloth down the outside of my still-burning throat.

"I remember…that. I remember you bought me. From the auction. You won me, when they were selling me. I didn't want to be bought. They stole me from my home and decided to sell me. You bought me. You are my master. I am your slave."

Sasuke wiped away the fresh tears with the cloth this time.

"Then what don't you understand?" He kissed my forehead so gently, and it makes no sense.

"You broke me, Sasuke." Each word is a battle, but it's being won more easily now that Sasuke is wiping away the blood. I think he's using some sort of medical jutsu to tend to some of the wounds as he wipes. "You broke me and beat me and bled me and tortured me" – well, he's still torturing me, since the finger is still drifting over the fire below that he hasn't done anything about yet – "and now you heal me? I don't understand."

For a long time, there is nothing. Nothing but the burning of my wounds melting into duller aches and the eternal torture of his hands that make me shut my eyes tight again. I need release, I need release.

"I'm sorry," he says, and I still don't understand. His voice is very quiet. "You don't know, Naruto-kun. You don't know what's inside me. When I bought you, it was an impulse. I haven't seen you in years, not since before I left to destroy my brother. I haven't acted on an impulse. Ever. But then I saw you, so many years since I last did, and there was so much inside me that needed to get out. I haven't let myself feel emotion in so long. I haven't felt anger, or hatred, or pain, or lust. And I saw you and I needed you. And I needed you to let me feel. So I hurt you, I know I did. I had to hurt you. I had to let it out, what's inside of me, so I can love you like you deserve. I'm going to love you like you deserve, Naruto-kun." There was sadness in his voice that made my breath catch and my heart break. "I'm so sorry I had to hurt you. I know I will punish myself for it. But now…I will never hurt you again."

I am very silent.

His hands keep touching me, but he somehow manages to remove the chains around me at the same time. My limbs fall next to me onto what I now see is a wooden floor, where I've been lying for hours, and he takes me and cradles my naked body in his lap.

His hands keep touching me.

I open my eyes very wide and I look at him. He is speaking the truth. I can feel that he is healing me still, all the pain of the hours past already almost gone, though never, ever, forgotten.


He lowers his head to kiss my lips, and this time I kiss back.

"Sasuke, you know you can't just do this once. You will want to hurt me again."

He shakes his head fervently, so fervently I almost believe him.

"No, no, never," he lies to both of us.



"Sasuke," I say again. His eyes meet mine, fire and ice. "Do you love me?"

The hand stopped moving between my legs, making me almost cry again with the lost of its bittersweet torment. Instead, it moved up to touch a knuckle to my face. If Sasuke could cry, I'm almost sure a single tear would have lilted from the corner of his eye to the tip of his nose, to land on my face. But Sasuke can't cry. He never does. He never did.

"Yes," he says. "Of course I do. I don't deserve you. But I know if someone else had bought you, maybe they would hurt you like I did, but they wouldn't heal you. I can heal you. And maybe they would touch you like I want to touch you, but they wouldn't love you like I love you. Maybe they'd say they did, but they wouldn't mean it. Maybe I'm selfish, Naruto-kun. But I love you too much to let someone else hurt you.

"Then, Sasuke." I am ashamed of how close my voice was to a whisper. "You can hurt me again."

You know, sometimes I wish he could cry. I wish I could see the emotion. But I can learn to live with just feeling it. Oh, and I feel it.

He takes me tighter in his arms and asks me again.

"Naruto-kun…do you want me?"

And I let him turn me over, so gently this time, and I let him hold my hands above my head with one of his beautiful, pale hands, and I let his other hand touch me touch me touch me.

And I say,

"Yes, Sasuke-sama," like the good slave I am, "Yes, please, please…"

His lips are so soft now, not biting like before, and I'm shivering under his touch. I know it won't always be like this. I know there will be some times when he will be angry and he will let the pain build up so much inside him that he will hurt me again. But I know that he needs to take that suffering out of him and into me, and I love him too much to want it to stop – I've loved him too much, for too long.

And I also know there will be times when it won't burn, and he won't carve his misery into me. There will be times like this, and now, when he heals the wounds he's made himself, just enough so that the scar is still there and it tugs painfully but not too painfully. Times when he doesn't rip me open, but he eases me, one finger halfway inside, then all the way, and then one, two, three soft kisses along my collarbone to reassure me, since my breath starts to come rough again.

"I won't hurt you," he says, and this time he means it. Another finger now, slowly, slowly, and I push backwards even through the sting just a little to show him that I do want it, I want him. I'm sweating again.

My hands desperately reach out for something to cling onto as the third finger explores the parts of me that tingle and shudder at its touch, and Sasuke lets his other hand find mine and he holds me tight.

"I'm here," he whispers, "I'm here," and then he enters me.

I don't know whether my eyes are open or closed, I'm covered in blindness again, but this time from the white-hot flashes of ecstasy that fill up every bit of me. The cuts that haven't healed yet, the welts that he's neglected, they burn again, they ooze with untamed fire, but it's delicious now, it reminds me that this isn't a dream, this is Sasuke, for whom I've searched for so long, and he's filling me and he's inside me and this is real. He moves in and out and I move up and down and it hurts me and his moans tell me I'm hurting him, and together we create a rhythm of pain and love so strong even we can barely understand it –

And then it stops.

Not the feeling, not the rhythm.

The world.

Or so it feels, as I'm finally screaming his name through tired lungs and he's biting hard at my hair and our bodies erupt into each other in a pool of blood and elation while my back is arched into his and my nails dig into his palm. My body is racked with emotion I've never felt before and I spasm into him, like I did when he whipped me, but different.

Not too different.

I twitch uncontrollably as my eyes flash red now and another shock rushes through me. Every muscle in my body contracts involuntarily at the feeling, making me shudder and tremble and keep moaning his name as he doesn't stop kissing me.

Slowly, slowly, but much too fast, it dies down and I can see again, and time restarts.

I want to do it again.

I'd do it all over again, even the parts where I thought I'd die, just to feel those last moments.

With him.

With Sasuke.

So I know, that no matter what he does to me, I will be forever his, because this inexplicable feeling I don't want to call love because it seems so childish overcomes the pain. And that's why we need the pain, to show that we are stronger than it.

"Sasuke-sama…" I breathe, as he collapses on top of me.

"I'm yours."