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“Chew before you swallow.”
“I’m chewing.” Naruto’s voice is muffled by dango. The three seconds between filling up his mouth and it reaching his stomach would have anyone else choking. Soy sauce, down to his chin, is tainting the corner of his lips. It’s disgusting. Sasuke could kiss him, wouldn’t mind getting his mouth messy.
The hardwood floor is digging into Sasuke’s coccyx. There’s no helping it until he switches to sit on his legs. A takeout box and papers are spread around them. The font size in them isn’t the best. Doesn’t excuse Naruto from leaning over the files while holding dripping food.
The only thing stopping a mess worse than Naruto’s mouth are Sasuke’s quick reflexes. The sheet is set aside, still pristine white. “If these get dirty Kakashi will reassign our mission and give us a D-rank one.” Naruto attempts to say something, tongue covered in chewed dango. “Speak with your mouth full and you’re sleeping on the couch.”
The threat always works. Wouldn’t be the first time Sasuke goes through with it. Always effective, always granting a pout from Naruto. Sasuke would kiss it away if it didn't betray his irritation. Last time, Sasuke got him to clean the whole living room after the state Kiba and Shikamaru left it in when they came over. Sakura calls Naruto a goner. He never denies it.
“You like it when my mouth’s full.” The smirk shows his teeth, pieces of dango stuck between them. Sasuke hates that it doesn’t put him off.
“I’m gonna chidori you out the window.”
“You’ve done worse.” There’s no heat behind it, their past no longer lingers above them. Doesn’t mean Naruto misses the chance to bring it up. Sasuke’s made sure to apologize with too much love, even after knowing Naruto doesn’t need it. He won’t pretend the damage he caused never happened either.
The last bite off Naruto’s stick is chewed twice more than last time. Sasuke watches as Naruto closes his eyes, savoring it. He can’t be blamed for staring at Naruto’s throat as he swallows.
“Are you done? We have work to do.” Nodding twice, Naruto licks his fingers. “Wash your fucking hands.”
“I was going to! You’re so pissy today.” Without waiting for an answer, Naruto heads for the kitchen sink. Such a deep frown hurts Sasuke’s face muscles.
After spending the last two weeks out on a mission, ground as a mattress, sleep deprived, fighting endless shinobi, Sasuke expected a break. A week would’ve been ideal. Three days he would’ve been okay with. Stepping foot back in Konoha, he was greeted with an A-rank mission that promises to take ten days minimum. He’s pissy.
Two days until deployment doesn’t give him enough time to rest. It’s definitely not enough alone time with Naruto.
There’s one difference this time: Naruto will be in his party after two months of being separated into different teams. It’s better than being away from him. It’s worse than remaining in the peace of the home they fought hard to build.
Arms wrap around Sasuke’s neck from behind. Naruto’s cheek presses against Sasuke’s. “It’s the mission, isn’t it? I get it. You’re being assigned missions back to back.”
“It’s your dango breath, actually.”
“Liar. You can’t smell it from here. But you can if I do this.” A hand wraps around Sasuke’s nape, turning his head towards Naruto’s face as he exhales.
Sasuke smashes Naruto’s nose and pushes back. It doesn’t take Naruto far, still glued against him. Naruto laughs, loudly, obnoxiously, at a joke that isn’t even that funny. Sasuke revels in it, how he can feel Naruto’s chest vibrating against his back.
“You’re disgusting.”
“Maybe. I know you’re tired, I forgive you.”
“I haven’t done anything that needs forgiving.”
Betraying the harshness of his words, Sasuke intertwines his fingers with Naruto’s. Tightly, holding onto him because the proximity isn’t enough. Sasuke needs him closer, needs their bodies to fuse, needs them to stay together every second of every minute. They’ve wasted too much time fighting, wasted years apart. Naruto chased him and Sasuke was too blinded by revenge to let himself be caught. He was, eventually. He should’ve given up sooner.
“Did you miss me?”
“No. I’m not as clingy as you.” Their hands locked together speak otherwise. Naruto’s a good listener. “It’s not that I’m tired. It’s that we’re on the same team and I have to put up with you for who knows how many days.”
Words aren’t his strongest suit. Actions speak louder to him. Spontaneous kisses, a thumb stroking Naruto’s skin, the staring, the firm grip of their hands as they walk around the village, how he loses it every time Naruto’s hurt.
That’s how Naruto knows Sasuke’s in love too.
In the tent they share, somewhere deep in the woods, kunais and shurikens preemptively placed near their pillows, Sasuke has a nightmare.
There’s no screaming this time. Sasuke’s skin is shining with sweat, breathing so heavy it sounds like he’s choking. The sleeping bag shifts with sudden, erratic movements. His moaning is loud enough to wake Naruto up yet not enough for anyone else to hear. Always, the dreams are about things that happened a long time ago. He’ll live with them for the rest of his life, but Sasuke found in Naruto ways to cope.
Naruto scoots closer. Slow, gentle, he brushes Sasuke’s fringe out of his damp forehead. His thumb strokes his cheekbone, his jaw, the bridge of his nose.
“Sasuke.” It’s barely a whisper. Experience has taught Naruto how to be soft. Once, Naruto shook Sasuke awake along with his natural loud voice, desperate to get him out of it. Sasuke opened his eyes with the Mangekyou activated. As if Naruto was the enemy and Sasuke had to kill him before Naruto killed him first.
Naruto learned quietness, to touch Sasuke delicately, to ground him, ease him back into reality.
“It’s a nightmare. We’re in a tent on a mission.” Naruto runs his fingers through Sasuke’s hair, once, twice, thrice. Eyelids twitch before opening. Once they’re making eye contact, Naruto speaks again. “You don’t live for revenge anymore.” It used to be so bone-deep consuming it’ll haunt Sasuke forever. “You’re living for you. We share a house in Konoha. You have someone and somewhere to call home. You’ve found peace. I’m right here.”
Sasuke doesn’t speak for a while, never does. Instead he listens, slowly reattaching himself to the world outside his head. Everything gets reduced to Naruto’s voice, somewhere safer than his mind.
Keeping Sasuke’s attention on him is crucial not to let him spiral. “I saw a cat the other day, around the corner of Lee’s house.” This is what Naruto does. He tells stories about random little things, the ones that remind Sasuke about what’s important: the present. “It was black, black eyes too. Sound familiar? It reminded me of you.”
Sasuke listens. It shows in the way his face relaxes, his tense muscles loosen up, breathing evening out.
“It was a long hair one. Very fluffy tail, carrying a fish in its mouth. Probably stole it. Can’t blame it, the fish looked good. We haven’t had fish in a while. We can get sushi when we get back, invite our friends over. I’ll clean the house first. I promise to clean up after they leave too.”
Sasuke raises a hand, lethargically, as if it weighs more than his arm can lift. When Sasuke’s fingertips trace his whiskers, Naruto leans into the touch. His skin is hot, Sasuke’s is freezing. Naruto burns like the sun and Sasuke drips water every time they touch each other. His palm presses against Naruto’s cheek until he warms up.
Naruto is the only person Sasuke allows to see him like this.
While on duty he doesn’t get the privilege of coming back to himself one step at a time. Vulnerability is fatal. Sasuke’s too strong to let it happen, even when the toll on his body pulls him down to the ground. He can still fight in this state. Right now he doesn’t need to.
The hand on Naruto’s cheek moves down to his waist, gripping his shirt tightly and pulling. Naruto holds him. Sasuke buries his face in his neck. This close, Naruto can feel the rhythm of Sasuke’s heart settling down.
Sometimes, Sasuke shares what the nightmare was about, sometimes he doesn’t. Sasuke stays silent. Naruto doesn’t ask.
Once it’s safe, Sasuke dreams of stuffed tomatoes and cats. Warmth, too, wrapped up in Naruto’s arms.
Ramen is part of their routine after coming back from a mission. It’s Naruto’s version of a welcoming party. Sasuke goes along with it because it’s Naruto.
“I’m getting miso or shoyu. Though tonkotsu sounds good too.” Sasuke doesn’t offer an opinion. He barely has one, and Naruto always figures it out by himself. “No, it’s tonkotsu. It’s been too long since I’ve had it.”
None of the options particularly tempt Sasuke. Two days into the mission he got a craving. Pasta with tomato sauce. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Indulging Naruto is something he does often, came to terms with wanting to do early on. Sakura calls him a goner. An answer isn’t needed.
The smile on Teuchi’s face greets them before his words do. “Welcome back. Successful mission?”
“Always. We’re beat, though. I’ve missed this place.” Naruto says it every time they come back, every time Sasuke forces him to eat somewhere else. “Can I get tonkotsu? What do you want, Sasuke?”
“Miso.” Simple, classic, unfailing. He can’t stop thinking about pasta. He entertained the idea of ordering nothing and cooking at home, but he’s too worn down from traveling. Debriefing came first. Naruto barely let him stop by their house to drop their things off and change before he was dragging him back outside.
More than food he wants a nap, a hot bath, to sit down on their couch and not get up for a couple hours. He stays where he is. There’s no point in convincing himself Naruto's bright face isn’t worth it. Naruto kicks his legs like a little kid about to get Christmas presents. It’s easy to make him happy. That’s all Sasuke wants for him.
Sasuke lets Naruto choose their meals most times, even when he’s the one cooking; lets him pick the movie, the music, the colors of their walls. In turn, Sasuke gets the side of the bed where the sun doesn’t hit his face as soon as it rises, gets to choose the shampoo, the decorations in their house. They could switch it up every now and then. They don’t want to. They want each other to have as much as they can.
Eating doesn’t turn his disinterest into hunger, but it’s good enough that he keeps going.
“Can I have a bite?” Naruto doesn’t swallow before speaking.
“What did I say about talking with your mouth full?”
It’s automatic when he obeys. “Gimme.”
Naruto loves ramen, and Sasuke loves Naruto, so he slides his plate towards him. “You can have it.”
There’s only one remark Naruto will give him. “You need to eat. We just got back.”
Exhaustion sits deep within their bones. They hurried home, too fast given there was no pressure to do so. Home calls to them each time they leave. Stopping to sleep a couple hours was an option they entertained given their state, but Konoha and their beds were the priority.
“Not hungry. I’m too tired.”
A soft smile shows up in Naruto’s face. “Me too. We can take the rest to go. Sorry I made you come here now, it could’ve waited until tomorrow.”
Sasuke reaches towards Naruto, his hand sliding through Naruto’s hair. He leans into the touch. His strands are greasy. Sasuke’s touch leaves them sticking up in weird shapes. Dipping into ponds doesn’t work as well as products.
“It’s fine. You like eating here. We should have enough time to rest after today.”
“Thank you for coming with me.” He grabs Sasuke’s retreating hand and puts it back on his head, asking for more. Sasuke complies.
“I always will.”
If there’s one thing Sasuke likes about his friends is that they’re always on time. Though their lives are busy, they value each other enough to make sure they spend as much time together as possible. Getting paired up for missions isn’t the same as sitting down to have a meal. Not all of them can make it. The last time the timing worked was for Naruto’s birthday.
“Lee’s helping out at the Academy.” Sakura picks up a sashimi from the plate and dips it in soy sauce. “And Choji is out on a mission with Ino.”
Still chewing, Kiba nods his head. “As much as Lee has been obsessed with teaching, he wanted to get away from it for today. Too bad he couldn’t.” Speaking with their mouths full might be a pandemic. Sasuke’s neat enough to be immune. “I haven’t seen him in forever.”
Shiakamaru steals the maki piece Sasuke wanted. Having rolled it, choosing first is his right. Watching Shikamaru nod at the taste makes up for it.
The kitchen is not where Naruto excels. What he deems important is the final result, not the process. It ceased to matter once Sasuke stuck around. Having Naruto offer his help while Sasuke worked on the sushi came as a surprise Sasuke reacted to with a nod. Taste testing earned Naruto a spot on a podium he hadn’t been expected to be on. Sasuke was beyond first place.
Hinata looks indecisive, hand closing in on a piece before retracting and going for another one. “They asked for leftovers.”
“I don't think there’ll be any.” Naruto's proud of their cooking. Sasuke won’t break it to him that most of that pride belongs to him.
The one that always swallows his food before opening his mouth is Shikamaru. Always reliable. He’s probably the one Sasuke gets along with the most. Admiring is a strong word, but Sasuke appreciates his skills, his intelligence, and his humor. “Sai had a meeting but he'll try to stop by later.”
Kiba grabs three nigiri pieces and hoards them in his mouth. “This is really fucking good, by the way.”
Quietly, Sasuke listens, content. This is what was ripped from his hands, what he thought he'd lost forever, what he convinced himself he didn’t need until Naruto showed it to him and reminded him it was worth it. This is a contagious joy he’s now part of. He doesn’t need to talk to soak it in, a sponge that never drips.
“Romance movies sucks.” It’s not often Sasuke agrees with Kiba. The only love he’s interested in is his own. Sasuke only sits through watching them because Naruto, every time, holds him by his shirt and orders him to stick around. Most times he stares at the wall for two hours. “What’s fun about watching people fall in love? Nothing I haven’t done myself. I’ve seen it before.”
“What is wrong with you?” Counter arguments constantly brew in Naruto’s mind. It’s not the first time Sasuke’s seen him deep into a dispute, armed enough to fire back. “That should make you love them more. Is relating to a movie above you?”
From the other side of the table, Sakura tilts her head. “Kiba, your logic has so many holes it looks like a shooting target.” They’re arguing too loudly to hear her. “Ignore me. Whatever.”
“Watching people beat the shit out of each other is what you relate the most to. You should be choosing action movies.” Sharp fangs make an appearance. “You don’t sound like a shinobi right now.” Kiba is one of the few people who can throw that dagger without it landing anywhere lethal.
The white dove always flying over their heads is Hinata, guarding peace until it’s threatened. Even when it’s known no war will unfold. “Kiba.”
“Let him answer.”
Sasuke stays as a passive participant. One thing Naruto’s never needed is defending.
“Take that back.” This is a game they like to play. Bantering, teasing, taunting to a degree damaging to anyone but them. “Love is what made me the shinobi I am today. Still does.” It’s a fleeting exchange that doesn’t grant development. The debate goes on. “Romance is universal. Movies show that. There’s always something that’ll make you go: Oh, yeah, that’s exactly how I feel.”
“You get that from fantasies meant to sell you the impossible? Couldn’t be me.”
“The pinning, the aching, the euphoria when you kiss for the first time.” In front of those words stands Sasuke. “For someone in love, you don't sound like you believe in it.”
“Fuck off. That’s so far away from what I'm saying. I’m saying they’re unrealistic and the bits I can relate to I’ve already lived through. Therefore they’re boring.” These arguments are flammable and Naruto and Kiba have always been known for their fire.
“This is one of the stupidest conversations you’ve ever had.” Like water, Shikamaru extinguishes the flames. “Can’t we debate on kunai vs shuriken instead? Or, you know, literally anything else.”
The frown on Naruto’s face is almost endearing. “This isn’t a debate. This is common sense. And Kiba’s opinions aren’t even good enough to suck my dick.”
The task of cleaning up falls on Naruto, faithful to his promise and knowing Sasuke hates messes. The dishes are cleaned, the cushions fluffed up, the plants watered. Coffee’s brewing. Sasuke watches from the couch, entertained by the sight of Naruto alone. He doesn’t lift his feet from the floor to let Naruto sweep.
“C’mon.” Armed with a broom, Naruto threatens to scrub his face. It’s covered in lint. Pink hairs stick to it. Three grains of rice too. “If you’re not gonna let me work I’m not doing anything else.”
It’s tempting to tell him to drop everything and sit down. He needs their alone time as much as Naruto does, but he’s not going anywhere. This isn’t going to end. It’s still hard to internalize. “Touch me with that and you’re losing an arm again.” He’d swat it away but he won’t take the risk. The weapon is weak, but the holder has proved his strength before.
“Oh, you want more? I kicked your ass back then, I’ll kick your ass now.” Naruto lowers it down, resting his hands on the end of the broom to hold himself up. The dirt pile lays forgotten. “Did you have fun tonight?”
Every now and then he’ll ask Sasuke if he’s comfortable, happy, where he is. The meals they spend with friends, the missions he takes on wearing Konoha’s headband, coming back to Naruto every time. Each of those gives an answer. Rather, it’s a check up. A reminder of what they never want to lose again. They share the need to grip these answers tight to honor where they are.
“Well, you ate the last sashimi. That kind of ruined it.”
It was Sakura, they both saw her. Sasuke’s arguments get weaker when the check up is brought up. Soft, in a way he allowed himself to be when he decided this was worth healing for.
Naruto sets the broom against the wall. “Sorry, I’m gonna stop for a sec, my legs hurt.” Liar. “Cleaning really takes a toll on my body, I need to rest. And to sit very close to you. Like, arms and legs touching, invading your personal space and all that.” Sasuke can’t tear his eyes away as Naruto lowers himself down, won’t pretend he’s not following every motion.
Naruto does exactly what he said he’d do. There’s no subtlety in the contact. He presses so flush against him Sasuke has to stand his ground to avoid leaning to the side. He doesn’t want to be apart any less than Naruto does.
Through the cloth, Sasuke feels Naruto’s radiant warmth. If he could stay like this until death he would.
“So, you never chimed in on our movie debate. Romance or action?”
Their bodies are impossibly close. Another inch and their faces will be too. He sees the sky in Naruto’s eyes. He’s come to love sunny days.
“Horror.” A thumb draws circles on Sasuke’s thigh. He wouldn’t mind losing his sanity over this.
“Good one, but that wasn’t an option. I guess at least it’s not action.”
“Both options suck. I don’t have an opinion.”
“I’ll let it slide if you name the romance movie you liked the most.”
Enough words have been said. There’s only one thing Sasuke wants more than a clean house.
Every chance possible, this is how he goes about it: slow and confident, fingers holding Naruto’s chin. The smirk on Naruto’s face is the teller he knows what’s coming. This isn’t their first nor their last, but each time, without fail, filled with something Sasuke for long thought he didn’t deserve, their lips touch. The feeling of each past kiss hits Sasuke combined, always stronger than the last. He’s never felt butterflies, nor has Naruto. It’s different. An insatiable craving, pure need. Proof this is what they were always meant to do, turning each second spent apart into a waste.
It’ll never be anymore. They make sure of it every day.