Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Summary: It was just like Naruto to be eating ramen on one of the hottest days in Konoha and then faint from over-heating not too long after. So then why, oh why, hadn't she seen this coming?
Author's Note: A request fic I did for Starchii on LJ.
Note, there are some suggestive themes here. Flames aren't allowed, but constructive criticism is acceptable, thank you.
Prompt: Iced Tea
"How can you stand eating ramen right now?" said Sakura, incredulously, as she watched him gorge down the steaming bowl of noodles with his typical gusto and speed.
"It's ramen," he said, as if that were the only explanation he needed. When she failed to see the point—which she always did—he patiently elaborated again, "Fine. It's really good ramen. Happy?"
No, she thought, her eye twitching. "But it's so hot outside!" she complained.
And it was. Konohagakure never got this humid during the summer, but it was just one of those days—when it got like this, it felt like she was in the deserts of Suna. At times, it felt much, much worse. And here was Naruto, stuffing his face with ramen, without any care in the world that he was working up a sweat just by inhaling the bowl.
Really, she shouldn't have been so surprised when she walked into his apartment and found him pouring over the hot stove. However, watching vapour rise from the brew and the glaring redness grow more apparent on Naruto's cheeks as he slurped and swallowed didn't help her feel any less stuffy and uncomfortable being in the heat. It didn't help that his air conditioner was broken too.
"Hey, I need ramen in order to function properly," he said, and grinned when she rolled her eyes at him. "Well, you're drinking tea, Sakura-chan." He pointed at the glass in her hand, his smile widening. "That's not exactly a cold beverage you know."
Sakura made a face. "It's called iced tea, Naruto," she said. "There's a difference."
"So? You add some ice in to your tea, so what?" he said, shrugging. "It started out hot, didn't it?"
"It's sure heck of a lot better than ramen," she retorted.
"Don't say that," he whined, looking thoroughly wounded by that claim. "It's sensitive, you know." He looked down at his bowl, his face rather sympathetic-looking. "Don't worry, baby, she didn't mean it."
"It's ramen, Naruto," said Sakura, exasperated.
"No. It's good ramen." He placed the now empty bowl down and rubbed his full belly. "Ohh… I'm so stuffed. That was good."
She eyed him wearily. "If you get a heat stroke, don't come crying to me," Sakura warned.
"Aw… you don't mean that, Sakura-chan," he said, grinning.
"What makes you say that?" she said, airily, taking another sip of her drink.
"It's because you love me, that's why," he said, looking quite idiotic voicing this so called fact.
Sakura arched her brow. "Oh really? And how do you know that?"
"I just do," he said, with assurance. His smile turned smug. "Plus, I'm very good-looking. You can't resist this handsome face."
Okay, now she had to smile. "You're an idiot," she shot back, turning away to hide her amusement. "Don't be so full of yourself. I could mean every word and you wouldn't know."
She almost jumped when she felt a pair of arms come around her waist and tugged her so that her back was against lean chest.
"But you don't. And I know you," he said, warm breath tickling her skin. He lightly skimmed the side of her neck with his lips.
Suddenly it was hard to breathe with him standing so close and holding her like that. Why was he so good at doing that?
"No," she said, thickly. Her throat had mysteriously closed up. She tried to sound unaffected, but all that came out was a shaky murmur, "you don't. And stop touching me, it's too hot for cuddling," she mumbled, elbowing him in the ribs.
She took some satisfaction in his disgruntled grunt, but he didn't relinquish his hold. He just smiled and pressed a feather-touch of his lips onto her shoulder—making Sakura shiver, despite how hot and uncomfortable she felt.
"You. Love. Me," he enunciated. "You do."
Sakura swallowed. "No, I don't," she whispered, but even to her own ears it sounded like a lie. Like she'd ever admit that to him. "You don't know me," she said quietly, but that was a lie too and he knew it.
He slowly turned her around to face him and she was suddenly struck by how incredibly blue and vibrant his eyes were; they were bluer than anything she'd ever seen and she was drowning in them.
"Yes, I do," he said, confidently, the corner of his lips curved into a smile. "And I know you do."
He leaned forward, his presence so warm it was alluring. Out of instinct, Sakura found herself leaning into him; her head tilting to the side; eyes fluttering to a close. She could practically taste ramen on her lips—he was so close and—
A resounding thud made her open them again. Naruto was on the floor, out cold. All Sakura could do at the moment was blink her evident confusion. What the—?
"Naruto?" she said. She eyed him suspiciously when he didn't budge. "Okay, Naruto, what the hell are you doing?"
"Naruto, you better have a good explanation for what you're doing," she warned. She nudged him with her foot. "The floor is dirty. Get up already." Still no movement. "Naruto, I have no idea what you're up to, but I swear, if you don't get up right now I'll—"she let the rest of her threat hang in the air.
Usually when she did that, he backed off almost immediately. But he didn't move. Not even a twitch.
Frowning, she stood a little closer to the side to get a better look at him. He looked like he'd fallen asleep (if he did, she'd kill him) but it was strange—from the looks of things—Sakura's frown deepened as she looked harder—he didn't seem to be breathing.
Oh my—Sakura felt her own heart stop for just a moment before she was hurrying towards him.
She bent down beside him and pressed her ear to his chest, where the faint but evident rhythm of a heartbeat could be heard playing back to her. It brought an instant wave of relief to her. She checked the rest of him to make sure he hadn't injured himself when he had fallen, but he didn't seem to be hurt. Another wave of relief. She shook his shoulders gently.
"Naruto?" Her brows bunched together worriedly. "Naruto, wake up. Naruto—"
His shoulders jerked and he gasped for breath. "Ughh…Sakura…chan..."
"It's me. I'm here." She took his hand and held it tight. "Naruto?" she said when he didn't make any signs of movement again, but the weak squeeze of her fingers told her that he was still conscious. "Naruto, c'mon, get up. I'll take you to the hosp—"
"Thirsty…" he mumbled, blue eyes barely opened.
She didn't know whether to be annoyed or relieved by that.
"I told you eating ramen in this heat was a bad idea, you dummy," she scolded, sighing in exasperation.
He never learned. Then again, he was Uzumaki Naruto—he had to be physically beaten with a stick or close to death in order for him to finally learn his lesson. Well, in most cases anyway.
"Sor…sorry," he whispered and she saw the corner of his mouth lift slightly into a smile.
"Don't worry about that now," she said softly, brushing his bangs from his eyes. "Here," she said, pressing the tip of her drink to his lips. "C'mon, drink. It'll cool you down."
Then once she knew he was okay, she was going to punch him to the Hokage monument and beyond for scaring the living shit out of her like that. That would teach him. Yes, that was an excellent plan, she thought resolutely.
He shook his head. "No… don't want that," he said, pushing the glass away.
"Now's not the time to be picky, Naruto," she said flatly, but placed the glass back down.
"I Want… I want…" He looked like he was ready to pass out again.
She could barely make out what he was saying. "You want what?" she said as she leaned in close to him—their faces barely an inch apart. "You want water? Is that it? Naruto, you have to drink something or you'll—"
His eyes cracked open, revealing a pair of twinkling blues. He was smiling, rather broadly she might add. It made her blink.
"I just want you," he said, smile so wicked that his teeth were practically glinting.
And before Sakura had time to register that this clearly had been a set up, Naruto slipped his hand through her hair and pulled her down for a fierce kiss. Oh, damn. Sakura felt like her breath had sucked clean right out of her. He was so good at doing that, she thought; he was so good at making her insides feel like butterflies and her heart feel like it was a melting pile of goo (the good kind)—damn him.
"I told you I know you," he said, chuckling.
What the—? Sakura stiffened immediately and began to resist (she was going to throttle him to kingdom come), but then he started kissing her again—in that irresistible, hot way that left Sakura breathless and a million miles away—and everything else was forgotten.
"Mmm…" he murmured approvingly against her lips, "your lips taste like tea, Sakura-chan…I like it." His smile was teasing.
And soon enough, Sakura was beginning to feel stuffy and hot for entirely different reasons.
All forms of protests, all thoughts of beating him till he turned blue—any thought at all actually—were swallowed up in that one instant, and all Sakura could think of at this point was how to keep the fire going.
I'll beat him up later, she told herself when she roughly pushed him on his back and straddled him.
The kissing grew more intense; touches roamed and burned on her skin, but Sakura welcomed this new form of heat. She didn't care that she was sweating through the fabric of her clothes (he had eagerly assisted her out of them), didn't care that her cheeks were glowing red (it was the good kind anyway) and that the room around her was so warm and just kept getting warmer by the minute (he made it bearable and completely worth her while).
She was in love with this idiot and he was in love with her, and somehow—somehow—that made everything okay.
Meanwhile, the ice in her drink finally melted.
AN: Feedback would be nice! Thank you!