a/n: Heheh, another SasuSaku oneshot. Thought I'd post this today before STAR tests make me go crazy this week. Ugh. ;p Originally, this was actually supposed to be a sort of drabble/humor thing, but I suck at humor — so freakin' bad. :) But whatever. Now it's a somewhat fluff thingy, heheh. Enjoy!
disclaimer: standard disclaimer applied.
warning: a few foul words and text implications that are NOT true.
(&) later in the story: italics indicate Sasuke's dreams
summary: [SasuSaku] When the color green and evil massage chairs are thrown into the mix, it's never a good thing.
| miscommunications |
'cause hon, it's gonna end up biting you in the butt very, very hard.
Sasuke Uchiha was a male organism that (thank Kami-sama a millions time over) did not have to deal with the unwanted emotions attributed to a girl who warmly welcomed the indescribable feelings flowing through her body. He did not have to deal with that pms-ing crap that thrashed from the inside of the abdomen that resulted in crunched up positions on the bed moaning and groaning exhaustingly, and as he knew very well, would only diminish for a period of time before it occurred again and again and again…
But ah, that's why he loved being the male; the stronger, emotionally detained sex, hovering above all others as they watched and squirmed in fear of him, giving him a sense of confidence and arrogance that maybe was way more than necessarily embedded into that thick skull of his.
…Well, at least the part when becoming a horny, opposite sex luster became absolutely non-optional.
Do. Not. Get. Him. Started.
For one thing, he used to be a man (or whatever you call a nineteen-year-old who fights with a five-year-old — Naruto no baka) who had absolutely no distinct 'feelings' for the women practically throwing themselves at him. Sure, he knew he wasn't average looking, with his lean, broad figure and his eerie, haunting appearance that he truthfully deemed him too feminine for someone such as his himself, slightly puzzling him on why on earth women bothered looking his way anyway. And besides, it wasn't like he'd give them any sort of gesture — a flirtatious wink or smile — besides a "hn" or his trademark piercing glare that somehow turned them on.
And he was proud. These remarkably gorgeous girls did not penetrate his invisible barrier, repeatedly flirting and coaxing to him that they'd love to have some 'fun' with him at the various bars he would relax in after a long day's work of shinobi life.
…but damn. Yes, he'd grown taller, leaving himself the tallest teammate besides Kakashi on Team Seven. Yes, he was more slimmer and stronger than his puny twelve-year-old body ever was. And yes, his voice changed from a more higher pitched voice to a low, huskier sound that, if ever whispered into an ear of the opposite gender's, would send ecstatic chills down her spine.
Even with all this, when it struck him at thirteen that inevitable morning where this sudden 'puberty' thing kicked in, he had very, very little — if any — interest in girls.
…Until five years rolled by (with the still adamant Sasuke) and that specific mission that one summer that required Sakura to dress up like some seductive, sleazy get up that practically had every men — except those who had jealous girlfriends who glared daggers Sakura's way — eye-goggling her the instant she entered that club in Sunagakure, her only intention on feigning a seductive attempt on a S-class shinobi who had slaughtered a wealthy clan and stole all their riches, leaving a small shinobi village in the far east of Sunagakure's desert without a dominant leader to follow.
Oh, and as she flaunted her not-so-childish appearance with that shiny, silky crimson spaghetti strapped dress that reached up to her mid-thighs, showing of her slightly tanned, creamy legs, wounded tightly around her curves (which weren't extremely curvaceous but nonetheless enjoyable to see) and those few cuts upon the dress's front area that exposed so very little cleavage that deemed her overall an innocently sinful sight, it occurred to Sasuke — sitting on that stool next to Naruto as Kakashi scavenged the area for any clue or inkling of the ruthless S-class shinobi, dreading the way Naruto (of all people who claimed that Sakura was no more than a sister figure of his) snaked his cerulean orbs on her, trailing down her voluptuous appearance that made his eyes go up and down — that there was this unusual feeling purging open within Sasuke that resulted in him most of the time that night throwing icy glares throughout the club, and maybe sneaking a lustful glance at Sakura once in awhile, that his sexual stirrings had finally broken out and kicked him in the face hard, relinquishing any sort of 'I'm more powerful against these women ways' attitude that would no longer accompany him.
And you what? Who cares if they caught that scumbag S-class piece of shit that night? Who cares if he was sentenced to the death penalty? Who fuckin' cared?
That didn't stop the edgy, protective behavior that had washed over Sasuke that night; that crack head's hands going up and down Sakura's body in such a rhythmic motion as the loud music flooded into the building, holding her close like he knew everything about her, molding their bodies together, and maybe, just maybe, when that fool plunged his lips against her pale, never-been-kissed ones, like that moment was all it mattered, smothering the living daylights out of her as if giving CPR and reviving her lifeless body that Sasuke knew she hadn't enjoyed it—
(scrubbing her bruised body hastily that night, ridding herself of such bad memories)
—but it still didn't help the matter.
The whole night he couldn't help but think the most slowest, painful ways to kill that man.
And now, curse Sasuke for the rest of his life, he had come to realize that women—
(specifically Sakura, his annoying teammate with the bubbly attitude and unusual pink hair, of all people)
—could now penetrate his invisible barrier.
Ah, and that's when these 'dreams' began.
Okay, so maybe Sasuke thought Naruto was an idiot. But I mean, c'mon, he'd bet a thousand dollars that if medic nins operated on Naruto's brain, they wouldn't find any life of intelligence in that thick, stubborn skull of his. Which was probably the reason why Naruto hadn't realized Hinata's feelings yet. And what, it's been five year now? Maybe even more?
If a girl like Hinata a) stutters, blushes, and totally zones out when near said dope, b) offers to take him to Icharaku Ramen (the only date he'll ever get if he's as dense as he lets on) and pay for him — the man, and a certified nitwit — and c) has changed for some odd reason because of Naruto, of all the people in this stinkin' world, then you've got a head over heels Hyuuga heiress.
But if you're best friends with a) a dunce, b) some perverted chick imposer, and c) the various synonyms of the term 'idiot', then, well, you've got Naruto Uzumaki:
n. Well known ally and friend of Konogakure who somehow hopes to be the next hokage, which to the eyes of some questionable (Naruto: teme!) best friend, seems to think it's utterly and impossibly hard to believe.
Their best friends.
And how Sasuke even put up with constant verbal abuses, ramen cravings, and complete disregard to using one's brain, it says a lot about his theorem: it takes a certain type of patience to deal with the off-the-walls blond dope.
…To an extent, at least.
So when you're comfortably sitting on Naruto's futon after a long day of work, trying to shut off the ongoing chatter of your next mission with him, you don't really expect a knock on the door.
And really? Who visits Naruto besides him, Sakura (ohmygodSakura! Legs, thighs, lips… Stop it Sasuke, you horny bastard!) Kakashi, and maybe that perverted sennin with the funky white hair?
And when it's not any of them, who the hell is it then?!
Well, of course it's the delivery man. Duh. With a huge, meant for only one person "massage chair" — whatever the hell that was — that Naruto presumably ordered a few weeks ago. And guess what! It's supposed to be a soft, comfortable chair that moves — and not only moves, but massages your back!
As the delivery man leaves, Sasuke eyed this said contraption. He never heard of a "massage chair" before. He didn't even know it existed! Which just proved that Naruto just indirectly revealed how stupid he was, buying some piece of junk that probably didn't even work.
"You really are an idiot, you know that?" Sasuke muttered to Naruto, who had been jumping all over the place, excited that the "MAGIC CHAIR!" as the advertisement called it, finally came.
But man, the teme's such a downer!
Stopping in mid-air, the blond nineteen-year-old hollered back, "Te-me! Shut the hell up!"
Naruto grimaced, "What are you? Some one-word dictionary?!" Sasuke stifled a smirk. "You shouldn't be talking, dope. You obviously don't have the brains to come up with a more offending comeback than "Te-me! Shut the hell up!""
"YOU KNOW WHAT?! GO TO HELL!"
So then you speed up maybe a few months later. And your Sasuke, tired as hell from an assigned mission and Naruto's critically damaged, landing himself in the hospital after a bloodshed battle against the enemy, successfully beating the hell out of them and scaring them off for the time being.
But Naruto's injured; battered up, clothes dirtied and torn, dry remnants of blood clinging all over his body, and the biggest stab to the stomach that's caused him some internal bleeding. So it's all up to Sasuke, injured yet paling in comparison to Naruto, and Tsunade demands you to get some extra clothes for your best friend.
You really don't want to, but damn, the Fifth hokage's got an arm. And that's not necessarily a good thing to be honest.
So now, Sasuke's standing before Naruto's apartment, bruised and exhausted but nontheless loyal (if by loyal you mean forced) to his friend to fetch him some clean clothes.
Why the hell Tsunade couldn't get someone else to do it, someone in so much better condition than Sasuke, he didn't know. But damn it! He's weary, starving, and yes, you old bag, even if you deny any assistance for him, injured!
She must've still been mad at him for betraying Konoha — what? Six freakin' years ago?! Hey, at least he had the nerve to come back! But whatever, man.
It's not that hard to realize that all that sake's been going to her head.
Grumbling, Sasuke slowly reached toward the doorknob, slightly woozy and probably about to tip over any second now, when he grabbed it. He turned the doorknob lightly, bemused that it opened with a 'click' and realization struck him that the dope forgot to lock his door.
Usually, Sasuke would've smirked and chuckled softly at the idiotic fault, wondering what in the world was Naruto thinking, because anyone could've stolen his valuables (not that there was anything worth wanting in his dump anyways). But now, exhausted in such an extent since such a long time, he threw the door open to grab any clothes in sight for the dope.
Foraging through the apartment for about ten minutes now, Sasuke's vision slowly diminished, blacking out every few seconds until he could no longer resist. The next thing he knew, he had plopped down on this unusually soft furniture, his arm accidentally pressing on a remote that said 'automatic'.
And with that, the rest is history.
(These dreams were weird. Unusual. Eccentric, even. And he didn't know what hit him, because really, you go to sleep one day dreamless, and now…BAM! It's Sakura…the annoying, pink-haired, bubbly girl — someone you've never liked other than caring for her. But crapcraprap, when she starts haunting him like that…really, it's never a good thing.)
Multiple sharp, stealthy kunais and stilettos were flung into the air, resulting in an aerial attack that just missed its target. The puffs of smoke soon evaporated into the sky, as the intended target appeared behind the pink-haired maiden, a katana held closely against her neck, puncturing her flesh ever so slightly.
It's been a few hours now, the afternoon light piercing through the translucent glass of Naruto's apartment and bestowing it's effulgence upon the passed out Sasuke, exposed on the very chair he called a "piece of junk". The massage chair apparently was still working its magic, ridding away those tense muscles of Sasuke's back as he continued to doze off endlessly in a dream.
"Sakura…" Sasuke muttered against her ear, loosening his grip on his sword. "…stop being such a weakling."
It was said husky and low, toying with her with that tint of sexiness that would've sent shivers down her spine if she hadn't retaliated as quickly as possible at the moment he let his guard down.
Chakra enforced into her fist, her body took a swift one-eighty degree turn before lunging forward and planting a massive, bone cracking punch against Sasuke's chest. The air knocked right out of him, Sasuke's body flew across the whole training field, landing roughly on a tree stump only a few hundred or so feet away from Sakura.
"…ugh." He coughed up blood.
The faintest sound of a 'thock, thock, thock' behind the door could be heard aside from the buzzing sounds of the chair going to work.
'Thock' went the door one more time before green eyes peered through the entrance, hand holding the doorknob.
Clad in her regular training attire, Sakura's face became visible. "…Sasuke-kun?"
"Sasuke-kun." Said so deadly, so cold, breaking into the atmosphere. Sakura's kunai hovered beneath Sasuke's chin, resembling his attempt to threaten her with a puncture to the neck just moments ago, though this time she leaned forward facing him, her free arm jerking him roughly against the tall tree stump to maintain him from squirming away from her grasp. To maintain her grasp on him even more, she kneed onto his crotch, pressing down indelicately and showing no mercy.
Sakura steadily entered the room. She was sent by Tsunade-shishou to go fetch Sasuke because clearly he couldn't get the job done, merely grabbing some clean clothes for whom he claimed to be his best friend. Not that Sakura knew whether or not Sasuke had actually said that, but she knew it was true, somewhere along those lines, because hey, they all had been best friends since Team Seven was established, so there was no need to argue with Tsunade.
(Except those few spat words when Tsunade accused Sasuke of being a rotten child before dismissing Sakura to go search for him, clearly still aggravated at the Uchiha. All Sakura could do when standing there feeling her shishou's wrath was feel sorry for Sasuke being bashed.)
Anyhow, as Sakura trotted into the room, she scanned the place out before seeing what she was looking for: the sleeping Sasuke sprawled on the massage chair Naruto had told her about, which really was amazing when she had tried it out.
Sakura's lips pursed into a tiny smile. Who actually gets to see the Sasuke Uchiha napping around on a massage chair that continued to be "buzz"-ing, looking uber cute with his silky locks tousled upon his slightly moist face, his stoic "I'm a tough guy" façade let down and replaced by such an innocent-childlike appearance that light gleamed upon, giving him an overall angelic look?
She considered herself pretty lucky.
Sakura didn't have the heart to wake him, considering how beat up he must've been after returning home from a mission with Naruto. So Sakura left Sasuke there to rest and she'd just have to deal with Tsunade herself later.
But onto the task ahead: finding Naruto's spare clothes and returning to the hospital. Just as Sasuke had done a few hours ago, she rummaged throughout the small apartment, searching through the mess of Naruto's things and hardly finding anything clean. She was just about sit down and rest, before a deep sound scared her half to death.
"Sakura." He acknowledged her solemnly, head cocked back and resting on the stump as her steady stare focused on his face. Her eyes scintillated. Challenging. Annoying. "You b—"
"…shhh, Sasuke-kun." Sakura whispered, caressing his lips with a swift motion of her kunai. She was enjoying this. Smirking devilishly, she applied much more pain onto his sensitive area. His soft groan was music to her ears.
"You—!" Lifting herself up on her tippy toes, she outstretched to his ear, softly whispering a hushing sound.
Sakura walked straight up to his unconscious position on the massage chair, confused. 'What was that?' she thought quizzically, soon after lingering above Sasuke's sleeping form.
Sasuke could feel the heat washing over himself. Sakura was too close. Too damn close. Kami-sama, he didn't want to spend his day becoming some lustful lunatic. But damn, Sakura's breath tingling his skin didn't help the matter at all, only provoking it. And with her knee still in tact onto him, god. It felt so damn…good.
It was riling him up…and not in a good way.
"Ugghhh…" Sasuke's sleeping form let out, tossing and turning in the compact space of the massage chair. "Sa—sa—k…"
Sakura froze, "…huh?"
"Get. Off. Now." Sasuke snarled through clenched teeth, trying to release Sakura's grip on him to no avail. She cracked a grin — something not totally fiendish anymore, he noticed — and, as he felt shivers run down his spine and cursing himself for being so weak against these gestures, she looked up at him with her jaded eyes wavering.
…jade. Some form of green.
…green…green…such a lovely, lovely color. Such a…turn on.
But no, that wasn't it. It was her face, calm, smooth…remarkably innocent. Pink hair framing her heart-shaped face, like pretty curtains he wanted to tear apart. Rip. Dig his hands into and caress.
'Damn it.' He thought.
But no. She shattered the moment, turning into a little demon again, whispering quietly, almost as if inaudible, if not trying to make him suffer on purpose, "No."
"…Sa—sakura." Maybe his unconscious body was getting too comfortable on this massage chair…tingling him, hurting him, slow, rhythmic motions going up and down, up and down, his back. Kneading him.
Possibly triggering some tempting dreams in his head?
Nevertheless, Sakura was surprised. Should she wake up Sasuke? Was he having a bad dream or something? A nightmare?! With that in mind she outstretched her hand and tried to shake him awake.
Damn it Sakura, get off. You're gonna make him go crazy, literally.
Breath Sasuke, breath. In, out, in, out…
('Do you know your breathing her air?')
It was his mind, playing tricks on him. He wasn't breathing anything but oxygen…blended with the carbon dioxide her plump lips exhaled. No, no, don't think. Don't breathe. Pass out now, you piece of scum!
God, he couldn't take it. "Sakura…get off." It sounded…pleading? So uncharacteristically Sasuke-like. Unsual? Strange? Sakura didn't know, but suddenly her grip had loosened dramatically, eyes widened, face in such a worried expression. She was so gullible.
And then Sasuke saw it: her pretty, pretty green orbs. Her smooth complexion, that forehead of hers up close. He chuckled inwardly in his semi-conscious state, reminiscing to himself of when that forehead used to be the bane of her existence. Why, he would tell her now. She has such a nice forehead — not too wide, not ugly — but nice. It just goes to show that beauty's in the eyes of the beholder, that's all.
He knew it.
He was whipped.
And before Sakura knew it — even before Sasuke realized it himself — he had taken the opportunity from her guard finally let down. Suddenly there was a swift change in positions, and now his body towered over her, so close to her as he smashed her petite form onto the tree stump, his grip on her wrists tightening every few seconds.
It was spontaneous, maybe even a bit scary, when the sleeping Sasuke's form lunged for Sakura, grabbing her by her arms as she plunged downward.
There was a 'plop' when Sakura landed square on Sasuke's stiff chest. Taking a second or two to situate herself, she suddenly realized how close she was to him — how close she's ever been to him since that mission so long ago when they had protected a snow princess. At the end, if she could remember clearly, the princess stood crying in a green field, sun glowing brightly as Sasuke's head laid upon Sakura's lap watching the sight with her.
Sakura blushed; she wasn't used to his hands on her, warmth radiating off of him and onto her. But she couldn't help but be annoyed because what the hell was Sasuke dreaming about? Her? And if so, why? …But only if she actually believed, she thought, sighing. 'Don't think about it Sakura,' Sakura told herself. She focused on the next best thing: waking the Uchiha up, because frankly, he was starting to hurt her. And she wasn't going to pound him on the face because he was sleeping for Pete's sake. It'd be cruel if he woke up with a stinging red imprint on his cheek.
So how was she supposed to wake him up?
"Sasuke! Let go!" He noticed the absence of '-kun' in his name when she said it. But it didn't bother him, no. But what interested him the most was when he spotted that tiny speck of blood on her neck from when he punctured it with his katana. His stomach thrashed inside. And then, he couldn't help it, acting on his instincts.
He licked it, sensing the tension Sakura's body went through at the contact. Then a shiver, a soft gasp, and finally the furrowed brows. "Let…go." Sakura said weakly, trying oh so hard to resist him. It was so…
"No." Sasuke mocked, smirking. He studied her: eyes, face, lips, hair. All nice attributes of hers. Just beautiful.
"Wake up, Sasuke-kun. Please?" Sakura had finally withdrew an arm from Sasuke's tight grip. Now, she was shoving his shoulder desperately. God, she shouldn't be this close to him, not when it made butterflies flitter in her stomach. It felt so good in a bad way.
"Wake up! WAKE UP!"
Then there was a brusque grab of her waist from Sasuke, unknowingly roaming his hands up and down her curves…and it felt familiar, internally excruciating.
And that's when she realized it; that S-class scum bag's calloused hands touching her in such a dirty way it made her sick. Sakura's eyes widened in anger.
Her protective instincts took the best of her.
Sasuke couldn't help it. What had happened to his invisible barrier? He had higher standards than this! Damn it you stupid hormones! Stop making him feeling so…dirty.
But ugh! It was her lips his eyes had captured. He wanted to kiss her, to feel that overwhelming sensation when lips met lips… so he dipped his head down.
"Let go, let go!" Sakura's cries echoed through his ears. "Let go, Sasuke!"
He continued to lean down closer…
(grip tightening, Sakura's resistance going strong — but slowly, surely, faltering)
So close that his face was only a few inches apart from Sakura's that she finally had given up and shut her eyes closed, waiting. Willing even.
She waited, he continued to close the gap between them.
And now a centimeter away, he plunged his lips forward and met h—
"LET GO, LET GO!"
Sakura's arm flew across Sasuke's face hastily. His head jerked back and he loosened his brace on her for a millisecond. She should've escaped, should've ran away and leave Sasuke to hurt from the pain alone, but damn it…his eyes. They fluttered open, confused and shocked, surprise written across his face. And she froze once again.
Sasuke jolted awake. He peered up, vision so blurry…and he saw Sakura, just as he did in his dream: face sweaty, bubblegum pink hair sticking to her face, a few of her strands encircling his own. The only difference was that her alluring green eyes were wide open.
But Sasuke didn't notice, his eyes showing confusion, vision endlessly vague, not noticing the different environment around him.
And so, his free hand resting on her small back, he brought it up to her head and pushed it down, her eyes still as wide as ever.
Closer her head lowered…
And Sakura couldn't quite process in her mind what was happening…
And he kissed her.
Their lips pressed against another, the kiss soft and short. But it seemed like time was working in slow motion, Sakura's eyes closing shut, her worries disappearing for that very moment in what seemed to be a hazy state, his lips on hers — finally — as bliss enveloped her. And Sasuke, god he didn't know what he was thinking. It felt good…sweet, wonderful — it tasted like cherries. Or was it bubblegum? He didn't know, and didn't really care.
But he was liking this dream.
When they pulled apart, Sakura was still resting on Sasuke, in a daze. But then it dawned on her, like someone stabbed her in the stomach: Sasuke kissed her. Her! It was unbelievable, not possible! He had never shown any interest in girls…least likely her of all people!
And now she was going frantic, flailing away. She was becoming nervous and jittery.
And damn her super inhuman strength, because before she knew it she had formed chakra in her fist and lunged forward, and it smacked Sasuke's semi-conscious state awake.
In a not-so-good way.
So now Naruto had a huge gap in his wall, and…a few others of some neighbors. How he was going to pay for it, in his damaged state, he didn't know — and Sakura, standing up nervously in Naruto's apartment, feeling dread wash over herself as she gazed at all the walls that Sasuke's body had crashed in and broken through…
Well, she didn't know how she was going to break this to Naruto.
a/n: Yay, 'tis done! Hope you guys like it. Heheh, and Sasuke's a bit…OOC and hormonal in here, lol. But I hope you don't mind! :D And uhmm…yeah. Poor Naruto, I think he's been bashed by Sasuke too much in here, heheh, but I love him too. :b And the ending — well gosh, it feels so overused 'cause in my other SasuSaku fic, the ending included a kiss too. MEH. But anyways…
Reviews are lovely! x)