Rating: Hard R.
Word Count: 500
Summary/Description: Theirs is an awkward dance, stilted, harsh and imperfect. They would not have it any other way.
Warning/Spoilers: No spoilers. Sexual situations.
A/N: 31 days, February 29th: come give me my soul again. Takes place in the indeterminable future. Sorta sweet and a little angsty. Yay, OT3.
Disclaimer: Me = not Kishimoto.
Naked, it is easy to see all of their imperfections and flaws. Laid bare and stretched thin, they are nothing but the skin they inhabit and they words they say and the touches that they lay carefully along each other's bodies. They are broken, but not irreversibly so.
Naruto and Sakura cannot stop touching Sasuke. They trace their fingertips along his ribs, press fever hot kisses to his chest, delve their fingers into his hair. Sakura is crying, just a little, and Sasuke presses a finger into her hip. His is the touch that brings her back to herself, and because of it, she sobs a little more. Naruto wipes her tears away; it is tender, automatic.
Sasuke is looking at Naruto; black eyes are infused with meaning and intent, and there is so much that Naruto wants to say. There is so much that Naruto wants back. Words lodge in his throat; it is too much.
Someone's hand is cupping Sakura's breast; she arches into the sensation as a thumb circles her nipple. There is another hand between her thighs, slipping into her core, fitting like a hand into a glove. Her lips part; the breath that escapes her is a litany of love. Her hands continue to touch Sasuke, because she needs constant verification that he really is here; after all this time, he really is here. Her smile, though, is for Naruto. The blond's hand cups her jaw as he kisses Sasuke with a savage hunger, and Sakura wonders if there is anything that he won't do for the two of them.
They fit together, in a silent sequence. Sakura pulls Sasuke down on top of her, and Naruto fits easily behind. Sakura guides Sasuke to her centre, breathing heavily as he impales her. Her fingers clutch at his shoulders; she raises her legs and hooks them around their bodies, until her heels press into Naruto's buttocks. The blond has three fingers buried in Sasuke, and his face is pressed into his neck. He breathes heavily as he slicks himself with something Sakura presses into his hand, and slides, inch by inch, into Sasuke. The brunet grits his teeth, pistons his hips forward and backward alternatively.
They move together. Theirs is an awkward dance, stilted, harsh and imperfect. They would not have it any other way; after all this time, they are broken, but not for long. They finally have their hearts back.
Naruto and Sakura do not stop touching Sasuke. He is between them, where he belongs, gasping silently, and they take it like a promise, caress it like a tear. They do not speak, but naked as they are, words are not necessary. They hold each other, kiss each other, move together in the knowledge that from here, it can only get better.
They say each other's names, softly, voices echoing in the dark, in the shadows. Sakura cries out as Sasuke kisses Naruto, biting into his lips. It is a good kind of hurt.