Prompt: Day 4: There Was No Warning
Summary: ”Stop saying it incorrectly.”
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.
Rating: T for the same reason as yesterday ;D
Warnings: Mild violence (because sparring).
Comments: I don’t know where this came from, but blehhhh I don’t like it. Also: I’m going on vacation, so I’m not going to be online for a while. I’m setting up a queue for the next few days.
They were sparring, taijutsu-only, on Training Ground 07—its marsh-like landscape gave a unique challenge, and was usually only open to higher-tier shinobi. Being war heroes and all, the members of Team Seven certainly qualified…even if one of their number was missing today. Sakura ducked, her short hair fluttering in her wake, as a powerful kick snapped out just above her head—it would have caught her rather painfully in the ribs. Her sparring partner continued the movement, using his momentum to swing into a series of rotations, his foot coming up to hook her ankle as she rose and his elbow angling to smash her nose. Sakura made a split-second decision and let her legs sweep to the right, crashing to the floor as his arm cocked itself back, fist balling in preparation for a punch. Sasuke lunged down as the pinkette rolled to the side, his hand meeting ground instead of flesh and sending visible shockwaves surging up his arm.
Sakura flipped upright just as Sasuke rose from his kneel, shaking out his hand. His knuckles were bleeding, as he had no doubt left them unprotected by chakra in an effort to soften the hit somewhat. She smiled to herself; even in a spar, neither he nor Naruto could really bear to go full out. She’d just have to draw him out of his shell. With that, she smirked and leapt up, flipping in midair as she swung her fist down. “Shanaroooooo~!”
Even without chakra, her punch was strong enough to shatter the earth. Sasuke executed an elegant back handspring, pushing away from her attack just in time to avoid any major damage. He still sustained various scrapes and small bruises from flying rocks, but was for the most part unscathed. Right side up once more, Sasuke shook himself off and lunged forward, right arm cocking back in preparation for a hook. Sakura ducked under him and wrapped her arms around his midsection, bending back to slam him to the ground. Sasuke twisted in her grasp, knocking her legs out from under her, and they both crashed down. Sakura felt the air rush out of her lungs as her back met rock, and closed her eyes a moment as she tried to even her breathing.
Sasuke’s weight pressed her into the ground—he’d fallen on top of her, his larger frame completely covering her. He did, after all, have a good foot of height on her. His forehead rested against hers, and he was so close that she could feel his warm breath on her lips (which was doing all sorts of unmentionable things to her heart and brain). Suddenly very aware of every cell in her body (or, at least, anything within close proximity of the muscular male above her), Sakura felt her face flush with heat. “E-eh, sorry S-sasuke…”
“Hn.” He scowled, the grunt rumbling in his chest. “Don’t do that.”
She shifted slightly, growing almost uncomfortable with their position. “What?”
“My name.” Sasuke moved closer still, onyx boring into emerald with a strange, hidden fire. Sakura swore she could see every one of his eyelashes, and count the gray streaks in his irises. Her body seemed to forget how to function, and she felt her heart speeding at an alarming rate—at this point it would give the Yellow Flash a run for his money. “What about it…”
To her eternal embarrassment, the phrase came out as more of a love-struck sigh than anything else. Sasuke’s fringe brushed over her upper forehead as his hands came up to brace himself against the ground, giving her a bit of space (not that it was much—she was still hyper-aware of everything below her collarbone in relation to Sasuke, as he left no space between their bodies) as he hovered over her. “You know.”
“Know what…?” It was then that he smirked, and Sakura felt herself melt. Oh Kami, if he had been attractive when he was thirteen, he was the god of desire now, five years later, when puberty had ran its course and angled those fine features with the precision of a master sculptor. Those lips, slightly chapped from training and scarred by thousands of Katon, curved up slightly in an asymmetrical expression that made him look, in a word, delicious. He leaned down again, more deliberately this time, until their mouths were nearly touching, and whispered, “Sakura.”
Her eyes slid shut as his lips met hers, slanting over them as though they belonged there (which, she supposed, they did). She felt him shift again, this time to his elbows, and wrapped her arms around his neck almost instinctually, holding him to her as they kissed. Sasuke put his weight on his right arm, his left moving to gently caress her side before looping under her and pulling her close. They parted for breath then, and Sakura almost fainted as Sasuke practically purred in her ear, “Say my name.”
His lips found her jawline, placing butterfly kisses down her chin and neck as she exhaled smoothly. “Sahh-suke…kun…”
He froze for a moment, and Sakura yelped in surprise as his hold on her tightened and he practically attacked her mouth, his kisses no longer sedate. She could feel it—the heat of his passion for her, as well as another emotion, deeply buried beneath the rest. Between breaths, he growled, “Say it again.”
“Sasuke-kun…” She repeated, and pulled him into another deep kiss. His hand glided across her bare skin, winding under her shirt to rest just at the small of her back. His tongue slithered across her bottom lip, which his teeth then gently snagged. Sakura mouthed his name into the kiss, and Sasuke took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, exploring it thoroughly as if to memorize every nook and cranny. Her tongue curled around the invading appendage, drinking in the flavors of cinnamon, ash, and apples, as well as something unique she identified as Sasuke. Her hands twined in his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp, and the man above her let out a low, pleased hum. They came apart again, gasping, foreheads resting against one another, with Sasuke’s hand half under her shirt and Sakura’s fingers tangled in his raven locks. “Haaah…Sasuke-kun? Why did you…?”
“That’s my name. So stop saying it incorrectly.” He huffed, touching his nose to hers. Sakura looked at him a moment then giggled, her smile wide and bright. “So you really did like the suffix…”
“No.” He kissed her again, shortly, sweetly, and softly, and she understood: you’re the only one who can call me Sasuke-kun.