UchiSaku Week 2016: Day 3: Turning Over a New Leaf 2: Electric Boogaloo (FugakuSakura, 'How Fugaku Got his Groove Back AU' continued)

Rating: M for sex and language

The guests around him continued their merry team feast (and roast of each other), but Fugaku was oblivious to it all.

The tension thrumming through him was akin to a lit fuse or exploding tag beneath his skin. He was left counting down in anticipation of some fantastic, cosmic possibility, struggling not to move in too eagerly or risk compromising his vaunted self control and composure.

But with every gesture Sakura—kami, it was Sakura!—made at his side, no matter how insignificant or minute, Fugaku found his eyes following her like a predator stalks its prey. From the corner of his sharp eye he observed her own body language and fought against the urge to lean closer to her to see if he could unsettle her, have her acknowledge him, just react to him.

He knew other ways to entice her reactions from her.

He'd spent hours planning what else they could do to attract each other's attention. But how telling was it that all Sakura needed to do to consume and dominate his focus was exist there beside him at the table, surrounded by family and friends, completely untouchable.

The rest of the meal was pure Hell on Fugaku.

At one point, his leg bounced noticeably beneath the tablecloth in anxiety and his jaw tightened at the distraction—until the gentlest, subtlest squeeze above his knee narrowed his focus to a very acute point.

His breathing stopped.

His heart stopped.

"Dad?" asked Sasuke, his chopsticks pausing on their way to his mouth.

"Father?" asked Itachi with concern.

But Fugaku had lost the ability to speak when he felt those wondrous fingers touch him again for the first time in weeks. Instead, all that came out was a slightly strangled whimper… because of his painful erection suddenly trying to double in size while confined in his now far-too-tight trousers.

But the sound was enough.

"Sakura, take our father to his room," ordered Sasuke.

Sakura paled.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," insisted Sakura, whose hand had disappeared back to her own lap in the blink of an eye. "As long as everyone remains calm. It's probably some indigestion—"

Fugaku's patience was shot.

Absolutely not. She was not escaping him twice.

He gasped again. Louder.

—And in a bold move clutched his chest.

Sasuke shoved his chair back and tossed his napkin onto the table while around them everyone turned to look at his father's graying face.

"That's it, you're not well. Sakura, you have to take Dad to his room and stay with him to examine him. No coming out without a diagnosis, and no leaving this house until he is completely better. This has gone on long enough."

"Agreed," said Itachi, rising to his feet. "Come, we'll show you the way."

Sakura's eyes widened as she gripped the edge of the table with white-knuckled fingers.

"I really think this is a bit—"

Eyes narrowing—and reddening from the effort—Fugaku gasped hoarsely a final time and Sasuke yanked Sakura up by her shoulder.

"If he dies on your watch—"

"Okay, okay," she said, trailing after Itachi as he led his father and Sasuke to Fugaku's room. The master bedroom.

With a slam of the door, Sasuke and Itachi promptly locked Sakura and Fugaku inside and sealed the door to prevent her from leaving.

Fugaku leaned against his bed, his head lowered as he listened to Sakura's shallow, nervous breathing.

They were silent for a full minute, then two, before Sakura cast the privacy jutsu she had learned to secure her Shishou's office in the Tower. Whatever might take place from this moment forward, they had to take every precaution.

Especially considering what had happened last time.

Alone together for the first time since their mission, Sakura swallowed and shuffled from foot to foot, waiting for Fugaku to speak.

And Fugaku—

Fugaku's heart clenched in his chest.

Oh kami, what had he done? What was he doing?

He'd been so desperate to simply find her again, and now so thrown for a loop as to who she truly was, that he could barely hold himself together. His thoughts, his feelings, were a chaotic maelstrom.

Haruno Sakura.

Great kami, it had been Sakura. Sweet, headstrong, young, so young, oh what had he done…

Even if it had been consensual.

Sensual.

Breathtaking and perfect and passionate and—

He swallowed a groan as his erection pulsed painfully, and he cursed himself and his body's eager reaction. He hadn't felt like this since he was a much younger man.

When Sakura looked up at him from beneath her long lashes, biting her lip and asking him, "Uchiha-san?", he forced himself to just listen to her for a moment.

Her 'Uchiha-san' brought it all back. Every touch, every taste, every raw, lusty urge, including the longing that resonated through him since their last encounter.

He was lost to her, in a way. He let himself be. He wanted to be.

But he had to get a hold of himself.

So he straightened and faced her, taking her all in before taking one step closer, then another, then another until he towered over her, reminding himself to inhale, then exhale, to breathe and be easy and take his time.

Instead he ruined it by saying—

"You lied to me."

He wanted to kick himself.

Meanwhile Sakura's expression wavered before her eyes turned downcast.

"I was ordered to," she said quietly. "I was confined to the Village and I'm still…" She let out a small sigh and shrugged. "I'm still facing disciplinary action, though Shishou is going to handle things privately, for all our sakes. Luckily there were no… consequences."

Fugaku nodded, his mouth dry.

She had been avoiding him because of the orders of the one individual she could not cross. She had gotten in trouble with the Hokage because of him. She had ensured they would not suffer from other, more prolonged consequences due to his lack of self-control and utter, aching need for her.

And she'd done it alone. Without him. She hadn't needed him, not the way he needed her. He felt somewhat foolish, in fact, that he had not only spent so much time and effort locating her, but that he hadn't recognized her when standing before her at her own home.

All this time and she'd been so close, almost within reach.

Now that he had her in front of him…

His thoughts and emotions conflicted, he felt his pulse racing at the better uses they could be making of their reunion. The scent of her, so close, tantalized his senses and yearning filled him.

… but it was Sakura.

She was Itachi's subordinate.

She was Sasuke's teammate.

She was the Hokage's apprentice.

She was the woman both his sons wanted to court and marry.

She was intelligent, strong, determined,direct, compassionate, beyond passionate, professional, tenacious, confident, resourceful.

His sons had chosen well, he would admit that.

And she was… absolutely incredible in bed.

He swallowed.

What did he want? What did he want for himself? What did he want for her?

Could… could he accept closure? Could he end it here, now, with a polite discussion and a handshake goodbye? After all these weeks looking for her?

Unbidden, his imagination suddenly conjured a phantom of himself standing outside the doors of Itachi's and Sasuke's rooms while her rising cries of passion built from inside.

The sickening punch to his gut it induced firmed his resolve.

No, she would never be his sons'.

Fugaku made his decision.

"I would like to see you again," he said, voice low and gentle, but firm.

"I… she is very against this," said Sakura, shaking her head and not meeting Fugaku's eyes. Her downturned chin left her staring at his chest

The Hokage, he realized.

"Is she against a sudden, intimate connection, or is she against a relationship?" asked Fugaku after a moment, his chest tight.

Her chin lifted as her eyes snapped up to his.

He held her gaze as her cheeks pinked.

"You-you… I… I thought you only wanted a conquest," she admitted, her voice tight with shame. "I mean no offense, but the way you acted, it seemed like you sought only a particular end. A physical release of… tension."

Fugaku's ears burned as his shoulders tightened.

"I… I did us both a disservice with how I went about things," admitted Fugaku stiffly. He heaved a small sigh. "That was not my intention. I enjoyed our time together, Sakura. I enjoyed our banter. Our dinner. Challenging each other," he said, his expression softening with a teasing light in his dark eyes. "I would like to share those with you again. If… if you acquiesced."

Sakura swallowed.

"I…" She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Fugaku's brows lifted patiently.

"If the Hokage permitted it, would you join me?" he asked, his voice soothing, forcing his hands to his sides for a beat so as not to reach out to her. It was harder than he anticipated and he disliked the seeping wound this vulnerability had dug in his emotions.

"I do not seek a commitment or permanent relationship," he said, even as the words cut him to say. He wondered briefly why but set it aside for later contemplation. "I know you aren't looking for a permanent relationship at your age or at this point in your career. I merely ask your permission to court you, to enjoy ourselves together and to share our time."

Her hands at her own sides, Sakura searched Fugaku's charcoal eyes for signs of deception.

She shook her head lightly.

"I'd like to. I want to. I missed you," she confessed quietly, her hand lifting to his chest. He couldn't help running his hands down her arms as she entered his personal space. "But I can't disobey Shishou. It isn't just us," she said meaningfully.

Too well he understood what she did not spell out for them. It was true. It wasn't just herself and him. A public relationship between the two of them would impact the village as a whole.

It would affect politics within the village and outside it. It would influence negotiations and treaties. It would affect Sasuke and Itachi's prospects as heirs, effectively ruling her out as a potential bride not only for them, but for any other potential clan.

Not to mention the rumours and gossip that would follow them both.

At best she would be treated as a former courtesan when their relationship ended.

At best.

At worst...

"I can guarantee the Hokage will permit it," he said. "And, in deference to your position, if you would prefer a private relationship, I am amenable to it."

He cupped the small, powerful hand on his chest, wrapping his fingers around hers. He couldn't help the small smile that curved his lips when she squeezed him back. Warmth and comfort and fondness suffused him at their unconscious reciprocation. It relieved him to know she had been thinking of him, too, and missed him.

"You're sure," asked Sakura, the lingering warmth of Fugaku's hands on her arms leaving pleasant tingles in their wake. Her body softened and relaxed closer to his.

"Very," he assured her and allowed a hint of affection to colour his own voice.

When their eyes met and the moment held, they found themselves closing the gap between them again, instinctively drawn to each other.

Fugaku's heart pounded harder as he leaned his head down, while Sakura reached up on her toes, her eyes closing as Fugaku's arm encircled her, pulling her closer, her own arms wrapping around the back of his neck to bend to her level, their lips brushing against each other, breath mixing, her breath hitching as—

A knock on the door broke the spell and Sakura startled, disentangled herself from Fugaku's embrace. He allowed it after a half-beat, reluctantly.

"Tomorrow evening," he said, unable to let her go without a promise.

She tilted her head at him, her brows raised.

"I'll find you," he said with a smirk.

"I'll be at home," she said breathily, reaching for the door. He caged her in, his arms on either side of her, pressing himself against her back so she could feel him. Every throbbing inch of him, straining towards her.

She bit her lip as he pressed into her and ghosted his lips along the back of her neck before playfully nipping at the connection between her shoulder and throat.

Unwilling to let him go without some form of retaliation, Sakura arched her back and rubbed her backside into the placket of Fugaku's trousers, teasing him with a soft moan.

She pulled away when she felt his hips press forward, and smirked at him over her shoulder.

"Tomorrow," she agreed.

"Rest well." His voice was low and rough against her earlobe with the promise of things to come.

The tingling from Sakura's arms dwarfed in comparison to the butterflies that flew around her stomach.

"You, too," she said knowingly. With a fond wink over her shoulder sent his way she opened the door and exited, cancelling the privacy jutsu she had cast.

Outside the door, Itachi and Sasuke were waiting for her. The rest of the house had quieted.

"How is he?" asked Sasuke, voice curt and hands fisted at his sides.

Rock hard and barely leashed, purred Inner, licking her chops.

Sakura flushed and mentally shook herself.

A brief exchange with Sasuke and Itachi in the hallway reassured both men, though Itachi studied her carefully.

"He needs to maintain an active lifestyle?" he queried one of her recommendations.

"Yes. Get him out socializing. See his friends. You and Sasuke can share clan duties, too, to give him a break. Instead, work together so you can learn from him and gain experience," she advised.

"Thank you, Sakura," said Sasuke, and for once his words were devoid of the pride and arrogance that so often had tainted their interactions.

Sakura relaxed and smiled at him.

"He'll be just fine. It was…tension," she said after a moment. Deciding to push the envelope a little to gauge their reaction, she added, "Is there any reason he would have been stressed recently?"

Sasuke froze while Itachi glanced to the left, and Sakura's suspicions were confirmed. They were overreacting out of guilt.

She filed it away for possible blackmail use later if she needed to get rid of them again.

"Is there any supper left, by the way?" she asked, changing the subject.

"There is, but everyone left," said Itachi.

Ah, so they'd spoken that long? Sakura blushed. Well, not speaking the entire time…If they hadn't been interrupted…

Her insides fluttered and tightened in anticipation of the next evening.

"We saved you some and packed yours up for you," said Sasuke, interrupting her thoughts. "And we made you a bento for your lunch tomorrow."

"Kakashi made the bento," clarified Itachi, ignoring his brother.

"Thank you very much," said Sakura, accepting the containers as they arrived in the kitchen.

"Will you stop by tomorrow?" asked Sasuke, clasping Sakura's elbow as she picked up her bag. "Please," he added when she arched a brow.

"For Father," said Itachi when Sakura narrowed her eyes at Sasuke's continued hold.

Giddiness bubbled in Sakura's chest.

"If there's anything that concerns me, we'll be in touch."

"You specifically. He trusts you," said Sasuke, stepping in front of Sakura as she started for the door.

"Yes, Sasuke, I know," said Sakura, shoving him to the side before he got any ideas… or caught a whiff of his father's aftershave on her throat. "Good night."

With that she returned home and put the leftovers away in her fridge.

—Then spent over an hour rifling through her underwear drawer and ranking her best matched sets and expectations for the following evening.

Sakura woke early the next morning with the scent of fresh-cut tulips filling her room.

With a curious sound in her throat she looked around and noted the vase of yellow tulips on her bedside table.

With a half-smile at their meaning—there's sunshine in your smile—she pushed herself up and buried her face in their soft petals, inhaling deeply.

The attached card fluttered to her bedsheets and she lifted it up to read it.

I will bring a meal to share. - F

Meaning he wasn't going to ask her to cook for him, so have a break and relax. It made her smile.

Summoning a slug, Sakura wrote a quick reply and passed it to her small friend.

"To him and no one else," she said meaningfully.

"Understood!" it chirped before poofing from the room.

Rolling onto her back, Sakura closed her eyes as the warming blood thrummed in her veins.

It had been a long time since she had so looked forward to a date.

Her eyes blinked open.

Shoot. She had to clean.

And shave.

Without any further dallying, she rolled out of bed and stripped the sheets before dumping them in the laundry.

"He's still acting odd," said Itachi to Sasuke as they watched their father exercising and practising his jutsu on their training ground. "Perhaps we should ask Sakura what she determined last night."

He'd watched Sakura's small summon poof out of existence a few minutes before and his father's efforts had only intensified thereafter. Unfortunately, Itachi had not been able to read whatever Sakura's note had said from his distance away.

From the second floor window they observed their father leaping into a triple spinning crescent, landing it easily before flipping backwards and rebounding off a tree, showering his target with senbon.

"Hn," murmured Sasuke, his voice unconvinced.

Itachi looked at him, and Sasuke met his gaze.

"All this… vigour," said Sasuke uncomfortably. "He's seeing someone."

At Itachi's incredulous stare, Sasuke shrugged.

"That's what Naruto thinks. But Dad's hiding it from everyone. Maybe because of us?"

"But… who?" asked Itachi.

Sasuke shook his head. "Does it matter?"

Itachi looked back at their father, his increased speed and accuracy, his building energy levels. It was a far cry from the moping man he'd been only a few days before.

"I suppose not," said Itachi, eyes still on his father.

Sakura looked up from the patient chart on her desk at the knock on her door.

"Enter," she called—and flushed at the bouquet the orderly held.

"Delivery," announced the young woman as Sakura straightened in her seat.

She accepted the gift and waited for him to close the door behind him before unwrapping the top of the flowers.

Bright orange and yellow nasturtium and white violets, such common, simple flowers this time, yet they spoke volumes.

"Shishou agreed," sighed Sakura, smiling as she relaxed back in her seat.

The nasturtium referred to conquest in battle, the white violet enticing her to take a chance on happiness together.

Fugaku had perhaps—perhaps—been a touch presumptuous.

"Go f— yourself," said Tsunade levelly.

"She consents," said Fugaku.

"I don't."

"She isn't a child—"

"Yet she's on your sons' teams. Both of them, in fact."

Fugaku wisely swallowed his next retort.

"Going for a hat trick?" Tsunade asked, hands folded together.

Fugaku glowered at her.

"Why are you here?" asked Tsunade.

"Revoke the disciplinary," said Fugaku. "She did nothing wrong."

"She knows she's walking on thin ice when it comes to the clans, Fugaku. The Uchiha aren't the only ones to have tried to court her. I can't show favour to any of you. Especially not while she was on a mission," said Tsunade with a growl at the end. "Do you know the political shit-storm you'd incite if it were found out you volunteered for a mission with Sakura and slept together?!"

"We have no intention of having a public relationship. We both know what that would lead to," argued Fugaku. "I'm not asking her to waste the most productive years of her career on… on an old man like me. We enjoy each other's company and wish to have a private relationship. It's hardly… hardly some great romance," he blustered, uncomfortable at having to discuss his private life with his Hokage.

"Fugaku, you aren't fooling anyone. I'm old enough to be your mother, in case you forgot," drawled Tsunade.

For all his years and vaunted self-control, Fugaku flushed under the Hokage's knowing gaze.

They sat in silence for several minutes while Fugaku waited for the Hokage to continue.

"One," began Tsunade, relishing his discomfort. "She is the second highest ranked individual in Konoha. If something happens to me, she is slated to stand in and take charge until an official replacement is elected. Do you understand this? She outranks you not only as a nin, but as a governmental authority.

"Two," she continued. "She could snap you in half. I already knew that what happened was consensual. It's physically impossible for it not to have been."

Fugaku blinked. He'd understood Sakura was talented, but this…

"Three," said Tsunade, leaning forward, her voice lowering to a menacing crawl. "If you do anything, and I mean anything, to compromise her status or career, I will destroy you personally and no one will ever find the rotten, mangled pieces, and it will take me as long as I please because I will reanimate your corpse to just to watch you suffer and die again."

She burned with the Will of Fire at her pronouncements, and Fugaku realized all over again why this woman was the strongest nin in Konoha.

—and who his Sakura got it from.

"Understood," was all he could manage.

Tsunade smiled at him. It was a knowing, satisfied smirk.

"One last thing," she said as Fugaku stood to leave.

Caught like a deer in a pair of headlights, Fugaku froze.

"I trust I don't need to say this… but if there is even the smallest hint of another Uchiha on the way, you damn well better put a ring on it."

Fugaku's brows knit before his eyes widened in comprehension.

Shocked at what the Hokage was implying, his fingers and hands went numb for a moment as it sunk in… until the traitorous thump of his heart as it sped in excitement at her insinuation confirmed the merits, and danger, of her warning to him.

"Understood," he repeated, his voice more serious.

Tsunade straightened, leaning back.

"I will dismiss Sakura's disciplinary action from her record. You may proceed on a cautionary and highly discrete basis. Practically confidential," added Tsunade, keeping her eyes on Fugaku.

"Your consideration and guidance are greatly appreciated, Hokage-sama," he said.

She nodded once.

He bowed and left.

The 'highly discrete' condition of the agreement was nearly overturned only minutes later when Fugaku realized that he needed to restock certain essentials if he was going to pursue a sexual relationship with his Sakura.

He hadn't needed to procure such items in a number of years, after all, and Itachi and Sasuke had been purchasing their own since they had taken to enjoying adult relationships.

But as he stood in front of the pharmacy aisle that contained the Family Planning Essentials, he felt a strange combination of pride and discomfort at the sheer variety now available.

And the stares of the other shoppers weren't helping matters.

Never one to stand on formality—in fact, he regularly eschewed society's behavioural norms for shits and giggles—Hatake Kakashi looked up from the book he was reading beside the discrete display to give Fugaku an eye-crease grin from behind his mask.

"Good afternoon," he said.

Fugaku frowned.

"Hatake," he greeted darkly.

"I see someone's being a very responsible clan head today!"

"I could say the same," grit out Fugaku, his chest tightening with anxiety.

"My favourite student is so lucky to have such a considerate paramour," said Kakashi with a sigh.

Fugaku prayed for the floor to open up and swallow him, but had to settle for glowering at Kakashi instead.

"Do you mind?" he snapped more rudely than he intended.

—because of course this delighted Kakashi immensely, as Fugaku had suspected it would. He swallowed his groan.

"Not at all!" said Kakashi, making room for Fugaku.

Fugaku reached out to grab the closest box and flee, only for Kakashi to make a tutting noise.

"Oh, you don't want those," the Copy Nin counselled, shaking his head.

A vein in Fugaku's forehead throbbed as he stared at Kakashi, aghast that the man was criticizing his choice of condom.

"They're meant for younger men. They'll numb you too soon and then it will be over before it has begun," said Kakashi in a cheerful voice.

Swallowing down his bile, Fugaku turned and stiffly put the box back on the shelf.

Then swiped another box and headed for the cashier.

"Oh, no no no, those won't do at all," said Kakashi from behind him.

Fugaku's shoulders tightened and he paused.

"That brand smells terrible. Total turn off for the ladies. They don't like things that smell funny. Like old man medicine," said Kakashi sagely.

"You know a lot for a bachelor," said Fugaku, replacing the second box and quelling the urge to slam it back in place. "What do you suggest?"

"Hmmm," said Kakashi, tapping his book against his mask. "Let's work from the assumption that size-wise, the big banana doesn't fall far from the big banana tree…"

Temper rising, nostrils flaring, Fugaku folded his arms and waited for Kakashi's great recommendation.

"You could try these," said Kakashi, passing a box to Fugaku. "And a woman your own age instead of my favourite, cutest student."

With that, Kakashi tilted his head at Fugaku, his eyes narrowed for a split second. His battle chi flared and Fugaku's eyes widened in surprise.

"Do anything to hurt her and I tell your sons who their competition is," said Kakashi a heartbeat later with his typical eye-crease smile. "Toodle-oo!"

With that he disappeared with a poof! of gray smoke, leaving Fugaku standing in the Family Planning Aisle with a box of hemorrhoid cream in his hands… and still puzzled as to what brand of condoms he should purchase.

Completely fed up, Fugaku grabbed three different kinds and decided he would just try them on at home that afternoon and decide from there because by now a crowd had gathered and he was quite sure that he'd just heard someone suggest that he and Hatake Kakashi were an item.

It didn't improve matters when the cashier asked if he found everything he was looking for, and by the way, did he know they were having a special BOGO sale on Boy Butter?

Sakura's chopsticks dropped their seasoned morsel of teppanyaki beef into her bowl of rice.

"You'd like me to what?" asked Sakura as Fugaku ate at her kitchen table that night.

Clearing his throat, his cheeks warming at the nature of his request, Fugaku repeated it.

"Is it possible for you to, while we're seeing each other, temporarily sterilize me, medically?"

Because the condoms hadn't fit all that well.

And damnit, Kakashi had been right after all regarding those numbing ones.

"I… I hadn't realized…" she began.

Fugaku flushed.

"Forgive me, I've been presumptuous. I did not mean to imply that I thought our relationship would immediately necessarily repeat what—"

"Oh, it better," interrupted Sakura before she, too, blushed and offered an awkward smile. "Wow, that didn't come across as desperate," she mumbled to him in jest, rubbing her arm.

To her surprise, he was smiling fondly at her in relief.

"I meant, last time you were almost willing to forgo protection, in a way," Sakura explained.

"I have a much clearer head at the moment," he admitted ruefully. "But it was the Hokage who suggested we take extra care with our precautions."

"Mmmm, yes," said Sakura with a small sigh. "Physically it is possible to do, yes."

Fugaku heard a 'but' in her voice.

Sakura tilted her head side to side as she considered something.

"However, as you are a clan head, technically I'm bound by Konoha Medical and Family Services to remind you I am not legally permitted to perform such a procedure on you," she said.

Fugaku's stared at her.

"Not legally permitted?" he repeated. He repeated himself quite a bit that day. It was becoming irritating.

Sakura shook her head.

"Konoha Charter. I'm not allowed to. Your heir and your back-up heir, neither of them has a child of his own. That means that they may not be able to have children. Which means you would be required to provide another so Konoha can continue the Main line," explained Sakura. "Prized genetics, yada yada yada."

"I didn't know that law was still on the books," said Fugaku.

Sakura nodded.

"Trust me, I would have zapped Sasuke already to minimize the potential damage radius, if Itachi already had children," she snorted.

Fugaku winced and Sakura bit the inside of her cheek.

"Sorry," she said, pushing food around her plate.

Fugaku waved her concern off.

"He's only done it to himself," he said.

Sakura nodded.

"I like the flowers," she said a moment later. "Thank you."

Fugaku looked up from his bowl in surprise. Then his smile widened.

"Hn," he said in a way that meant 'good', returning to his meal. There was little left in his bowl, and he was mostly stalling in order to gather his wits. He hadn't been on a date with a new partner since before Itachi was born. He was, dare he admit it to himself, nervous and out of his depth.

With Mikoto, they had known each other so well all it had taken was a look and a smile and they had recognized each other's intentions and desires.

With Sakura, he was learning all new signals and didn't want to upset their tentative dynamic, as relaxed as it was.

To his relief Sakura grinned.

"Did you get my reply message this morning?" she asked innocently, setting down her empty bowl.

And that was all it took for little Fugaku to leap to stiff attention, leaving Fugaku with no shortage of discomfort as it pressed against his trousers.

"Yes," he growled, his hand clenching around his chopsticks.

And now he couldn't get up without embarrassing himself.

To his surprise, Sakura giggled.

"You wrote it that way on purpose," he said, offering her his bowl and chopsticks when she reached for them.

"Oops," she teased, not at all sorry. She bent down to give him a peck on his cheek. "Did it make you… uncomfortable, U-chi-ha-san?"

She minced out of the way of his roving hand as he reached for her exposed calf beneath her short skirt.

"Training was more vigorous than usual," he said, watching her place their dishes in the sink and run water over them.

"Mmm, you poor thing. Long and hard workout, was it?" she asked, bending down in front of him, just out of reach, and clearing the rest of their dishes.

Catching on, Fugaku decided two could play at this game. He half-turned from the table, spreading his legs wide as letting his hand settle on his thigh. The gesture pulled his pants tight, outlining his need.

"It would have been useful to have had your special touch there to help after," he said, smirking.

"Hmm, which special touch was that?" asked Sakura as she dried her hands and walked closer, slowly, her finger on her chin as she considered his words.

"The one that feels good all over," murmured Fugaku as she leaned down, placing her hands on his knees. Then she proceeded to trail them higher.

Chakra tingling under her palms as she massaged up and down his inner thighs, Sakura smirked at him in return as she arched a brow.

"You want to feel good all over?" she asked, arching her back as he ran his hands down her sides to rest on her hips.

"I want to make you feel good all over," he said, lifting his face so they breathed the same air.

Inside him lust pooled low in his stomach, and the furnace of desire Sakura had lit in him as an ANBU returned full force, stronger even, now that he had her expressive, saucy face to add to it.

"Then," she breathed, dusting his cheeks with kisses on her journey to his lips. "What are we still doing here?"

His hands on her round hips clenched, and Sakura's eyes darkened.

"Where is your—" began Fugaku, voice low and thick.

"Third door on the left," said Sakura before kissing him hard and dragging him up against her.

Immediately Fugaku responded, deepening the kiss and pulling her in for more even as they stumbled down the hallway.

"What are you—did you wear a belt?" she asked as her hands explored his body for the first time in far too long.

"It match—"

Fugaku's breath hitched as Sakura palmed him through the crotch of his trousers.

She whined in the back of her throat at the fullness that pulsed and twitched in her grasp.

"Oh kami," she whimpered, even as Fugaku swept her off her feet and kicked through her door.

He was a man on a mission.

"Careful of the flowers," gasped Sakura as she and Fugaku bumped against the bed, the nightstand shaking from the impact, the vase atop it clinking faintly.

"I'll get you more," he promised, kissing his way down her throat as he lifted her hips and stripped her skirt and underwear.

"That was an order. I like those flowers. They're the first ones you gave me," she argued, fumbling with his belt before yanking open his trousers with a cry of triumph. "Finally!"

"Are you—"

"Yes," she said, rising to sit on the bed with her knees under her. She shoved down his pants and looked up at Fugaku, who could only stare down at her.

His hands on her shoulders paused as he realized what she was about to do.

"You don't need to—" His grip shifted to her hair, tightening as he struggled to hold himself still as she ignored his tepid opposition and set about her own agenda.

He forced himself to loosen his grip as she bobbed and swallowed him, inch by inch, a strong male groan of appreciation rumbling through him as she tongued the slit in his mushroomed head.

"Kami, Sakura," he groaned, his hips flexing in spite of himself. Not much, just a firm, smooth rocking to encourage her and tease himself further, dancing dangerously along the cliff between self control and sudden climax.

But then she hummed and he choked on a curse.

"Up," he said, begged, ordered, before she released him with a wet pop and a kiss to his silky smooth tip, and winked up at him.

"I told you, dessert's on me," she said, continuing to pump him with her fist, just the way he liked.

Then she leaned down and licked him, base to tip.

Fugaku's control snapped.

"I need to be in you," he said, kissing her the moment he could reach her. Long and deep he plunged his tongue into her mouth, branding himself on her as he lifted her and cradled her close before lying down on the bed and settling Sakura across his lap. His hands moved over her, up and down her back, her sides, her firm abdomen before worshipping her breasts.

"Use me," he said, pride abandoned at his need for Sakura overwhelmed him. "Ride me, Sakura, and sate yourself while I watch you come apart, finally," he begged.

"Fugaku," she breathed as he rubbed himself along her slit and she took full advantage to press his tip against her clit, exactly where she needed it most. "Ngh! Yes—"

He squeezed her thighs before pulling her down for another deep, searing kiss that lasted until they both gasped for air. Around them the room heated as sweat beaded along their skin, and they relearned each other's favourite places and touches, their tastes and treasures.

"Sakura, please," repeated Fugaku, his fingers threaded in the long, soft hair that framed her face. "I'm an impatient man," he said, before closing his eyes and kissing her again, full of need.

And so in a carefully deliberate move, Sakura grasped Fugaku again, pumping him once, twice, before taking him inside her with a soft moan of completion.

Finally sheathed within her body once again, Fugaku couldn't help the small shudder of pleasure that wracked his body, or the muffled groan that ran down his throat and rippled between their bodies where they were pressed together.

"It's been too long," she sighed, straightening and arching her back, leaning back with her hands planted on Fugaku's thighs as he stroked her sides and hips.

"Agreed," he growled, rocking his hips and rolling them into hers, pulling her body down with every thrust up. The breathtaking sight of his beautiful Sakura, with her ANBU-tattooed shoulder, supple chest rising and falling, her face flushed, her eyes hazy with lust as she looked at him, sent Fugaku's blood pressure soaring and his desire skyrocketed. He had to have her. He finally had her with him, and yet he wanted her again even while he had her in his arms. All of her, she was with him and looking at him and it was everything he'd dreamed of and prayed for and more.

"Kami, Sakura," he gasped as she slowed the pace to torture them both, and his head dropped back onto her pillow. He fought the urge to spend himself inside her, not wanting to waste even a drop or it would be the end of him, the end of this, and he refused to surrender to his body's primal needs so soon.

Sakura's responding cries spurred him on and he clenched his jaw, forcing his libido down.

It was no use.

Above him he felt Sakura shuddering and thrashing as her climax crept up on her, and the quickening of her breath, the broken rhythm—

"So close," she cried, eyes closed as she fell forward, nails sinking into his shoulders as she bore down on him, riding him hard. "Oh—F-Fugaku, I'm, I'm—"

"Look at me," he commanded even as he felt her clenching, vice-like grip on his cock buried deep inside her. "Look at me, Sakura."

The tension, almost pain, in her face as she struggled tore at him but he would not be denied.

Reaching up he cradled her cheek and rose up so their foreheads could touch before kissing her sweetly, languorously, lovingly.

And it was then she shattered in his arms, with him tasting and swallowing his name on her lips, and her clutching him to her as if her life depended on it, and him admitting that her orgasm was the most beautiful sight he'd seen in far, far too long and he was the luckiest man in all five nations to be blessed enough to witness it.

Her rapture sent him over the edge and he surrendered himself to her needs, feeling her channel milking him for every ounce of seed his virile hips could pump into her. His heart shuddered in his chest at the intensity of it, and the shiver that raced down his spine thereafter. Even his hands shook as they caressed her silky skin.

Trembling from aftershocks and the exhausting release of tension, Sakura lay her head down on Fugaku's shoulder when he cuddled her closer, encouraging her to curl into him even while he softened inside her.

"Hmmm," purred Sakura as her eyes fluttered shut.

"Hn," agreed Fugaku contently, if a touch smug, as he let out a deep breath.

"Dessert," said Sakura, snuggling close.

"Worth waiting for," rumbled Fugaku as he stroked Sakura's hair. "Now, rest."

Sakura's face was hidden from Fugaku, tucked as it was beneath his chin, but he felt her lips smile into his throat.

He was a very lucky man indeed.

TBC.