If I really had to choose one otp for Sakura, this one is probably it. Shame it's such a rare pair, though.

Yamato jerked off his couch at the sudden banging from his door. It was loud, much louder than anything ever needed to be. Hurrying over, he didn't even bother checking who it was and pulled the door open, only to have it shoved in then slammed closed, his little, pink-haired, petite neighbor standing between himself and said door.

Blinking, he thought back to all the different times he'd pictured this scenario. Her breathing was heavy and she was looking at him with wide, pleading eyes, but they had on significantly more clothing and her afflictions were caused by desperation, not pleasure.

So while it was close, it definitely wasn't close.

"Sakura?"

"I'm so sorry," she rasped out and that rasp did something to him, but he ignored that something in favor of the next words tumbling out of her mouth, "but my crazy friends have decided to stage an intervention that I can't deal with right now and they will never suspect me to be over here, so can I please hide in here for an hour, two tops, until they're gone?"

He let the words bounce around and then settle into a meaning before selecting the information he wanted her to expand on. "Intervention?"

"They think I'm wasting too much time at work and not enough time going on dates, so they think it's been too long since I last kissed someone, let alone shared a bed, and while they're totally right on that last part, I just can't deal with their bullshit. Not tonight, not right now, not when I finally got a few days off of work with nothing to do except clean my apartment because it's seriously overdue, catch up on way too many shows, read a few books, and forget the world exists before I have to go back out into it."

He blinked, taking in some of those words and focusing on even less. Sakura in his bed had been a slowly growing favorite of his, right above her in his shower and just below her bending over his coffee table, but still a favorite. And since it's been a while since she shared a bed and probably even longer since he shared one, it was about to jump right up into the top spot of things to think about when he had some extra time on his hands.

Right then, though, he had to focus on other things.

"You don't think they'll check here?" he asked, still not moving away from the door.

"They might," she answered, her green eyes darting over his face, "and if they do, I will forever be in your debt if you hide me and tell them you haven't seen me in a couple hours."

This could work. Still, without moving, he covered a few of the basics. "Quiet night in?"

"I'd love nothing more."

"I have a TV, some books, and a few board games. Preference?"

"All of those sound great and I won't care if you aren't feeling any of them."

"I'm about to order takeout, do you want anything?"

"Where are you ordering from?"

"That new Thai place down on the corner."

"Pad Thai, mild, extra sauce."

He could do that. Reaching around her, he flipped the lock on his door before angling away, letting her into his space.

"Make yourself at home while I place the order. Books are on the shelf, games are in the closet, remote for the TV is on the table. Pick something you like and we'll go from there."

…

That night became a favorite of his. Nothing really happened, not anything to write home about. Her friends showed up and, not being happy to find Sakura not at home, staked themselves outside of her door until their food arrived. She hid herself in his bathroom while he paid for the takeout, then fielded off intrusive questions about her whereabouts.

Even though they were intent on finding her, it seemed Sakura had chosen smart to hide in his apartment. Outside a few questions and suspicious, though unfounded, stares, they moved on to the neighbors across the hall, who received a harsher interrogation than he had.

From the food, it appeared they assumed he had company and wouldn't have the patience to deal with this. They assumed right.

Sakura enjoyed her pad Thai and even tasted his volcano chicken, though his was too spicy for her. She loved the board games, going through a few of them before finally tucking them all back in the closet and then she helped him clean up their food. He figured that was the end of their night because they were certainly clear of her crazy friends, but she'd shocked him by grabbing the remote, finding an old movie on an old station, and spent the rest of the night in his dark living room, snuggled to his side on his couch, watching a movie.

When he looked back on that memory in the next few days, he tweaked the ending in a way that left her on her back and the movie long forgotten.

Yamato couldn't wait for her friends to go crazy again.

The next time she appeared at his doorstep, she held takeout in one hand, a pack of beer in the other, and a board game tucked under her arm.

No crazy friends this time, but instead a date gone wrong.

"Well, it wasn't really a date," she explained, setting the food out over his coffee table. "I made the mistake of eating lunch at the same table he was sitting at and he thought it was the perfect opening to show up in my office at the end of my shift and tell me he was going to pick me up at eight."

Yamato glanced at the clock, noting that six thirty was a bit far from eight.

"I'm not risking it," she answered his unasked question. "If he's not going to offer me the common courtesy of asking if I was single, let alone interested in a date, then I'm not going to be waiting at my door to tell him otherwise."

He wondered if she was interested in dating. "And if he knocks on my door?"

"You mind acting like my date?" The smile on her face was a whole lot teasing and a little dirty.

He really liked that little bit of dirty and responded in kind.

So when her wayward date knocked on his door at eight fifteen and asked if something had happened to Yamato's punctual, friendly neighbor, Yamato had taken great pleasure in explaining that Sakura was spending the night right where she should be — with him.

When the door closed and the boy finally left the apartment complex, Sakura hooted a loud laugh, falling back onto his couch, and saying she should use Yamato as a guard dog more often.

Yamato would gladly offer his assistance to that particular duty if, in return, she actually did spend her nights in his bed, but held his tongue. Even with the little bit of dirty in her smile opening a door he hadn't thought she would consider, he didn't want to risk scaring her off.

So instead, he let her laugh, played games with her, fed her, and entertained her. Then when she snuggled into his couch for a late night movie, he hauled her into his side, draped his arm down the length of her body where his hand rested on her hip, and, when the movie was over, laid a sure, sweet, telling kiss on her mouth before sending her off back home where he knew she would consider his offer.

...

"Any interruptions today?"

Sakura didn't respond immediately, but that wasn't a surprise seeing she was currently on her hands and knees in his bed, completely naked, her back arched and her head thrown back and rubbing her ass along the length of his cock.

It was a damn good sight.

"Sakura," he growled. "Are you expecting anyone to be stopping by today?"

The last three times she'd been naked or almost naked in his apartment, knocks on the door demanding her attention had interrupted them. The first time was understandable, considering Sakura forgot about her dinner date with her parents. The second time, annoying, but still understandable because it was a nurse from the hospital regarding one of her unsteady patients. The third time completely unacceptable and not understandable because her idiotic teammate decided to make himself at home, perfectly ignorant to the atmosphere in the room.

But right then, with that beautiful pink hair trailing the lean line of her spine, her limbs trembling from the teasing he'd given her, and his cock lying against the perfect, plush cheeks of her heart-shaped ass, nothing was going to stop them then.

Sakura still didn't answer, but ground back against him, her tortured moans going straight though his dick. It wasn't enough, though. After being teased and tested for fucking weeks, he was determined to pay it back.

Gripping her hair in his fist, he leaned over while pulling her head back, just enough to watch those green eyes clouded in pleasure open to look at him.

Fuck, she was so hot.

"Answer me."

"No," she moaned. "No one, Yamato."

His hips moved, letting his cock rub through her slick folds. "And if someone does? What are you going to do if there's a knock at the door?"

"Well, depending how good you are, I won't even know someone's there."

That little taunt did exactly what she wanted it to do and Yamato didn't care. The attitude she threw out at him only burned his desire hotter, mostly because he knew how sweet it turned when he turned her out her mind in pleasure.

It was a quick adjustment, but he managed to keep his fist in her hair, her eyes on him, and aimed his cock right where they both wanted it to be. It had been a slow exploration of her body the week before and no way was he going to miss her face the first time he filled her.

Pushing in, Yamato almost lost himself at the slick, warm, tight grip of her. Fuck, she was perfect and the rounding of her eyes and the hitch in her breath made it better. Moving further, he loved the look on her face almost as much as the feel of her surrounding his dick. When his hips hit hers and he was completely buried, her eyes drifted shut and her long, throaty moan filled the room.

Perfect. Fucking perfect.

He released her hair and pulled up, wanting to watch as she took his cock again — and fuck him — Sakura kept her neck arched and her head thrown back. Hands on her hips, he pulled back, his cock glistening against her wet, puffy folds and he sank back in. This glide was just as good as the first one.

Yamato built a slow, but hard rhythm. Sakura's hands gripped into his sheets and her hips pressed against him on every thrust and her breath gasped out every time he sank completely into her and oh, this was so worth it. Absolutely worth it. Years of knowing her, months of living next to her, and the last couple weeks of her getting comfortable in his home, all of it worth it just to get to this moment.

He caressed one cheek with his hand, loving how it felt to grip that muscle as he pulled out. Sakura enjoyed it to, judging from the moans and jerks she gave.

"Yamato," she groaned, grinding back on him and pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see her looking over her shoulder, frustration growing on her features. "Are you going to sit there or are you going to fuck me?"

Only one way to answer that and Yamato didn't waste a second. Flipping her over, pulling her legs wide and over his shoulders, he positioned himself back at her entrance and thrust in. And Sakura, that wonderful, perfect woman, took it. Took him. Threw her head back on his pillow, reached out and sank her nails into his thighs, locked her knees over his shoulders, and took him. Over and over until her thighs quivered and her hips jerked and then in a burst of pleasure, she tightened around him and came.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and he had no choice but to follow.

…

"Took you long enough," Sakura breathed ten minutes later, still naked, still in his bed, and cuddled right up to his side.

"What?" he asked, focusing more on the soft skin of her hip under his hand than the words she was saying.

"Trying to get your attention for months, I was at the end of my rope to think of ways to get in here."

His hand stilled. "To get in here?"

"You turned down every offer I made to get you in my apartment, I figured you either really weren't interested or you just preferred your place."

"You…" He remembered her offers to make him dinner, but— "Those dinners? I thought you were just being nice."

"And if you had actually ever showed up, you would have known otherwise."

Yamato was silent, thinking back to all the times she'd extended invitations and how much he'd thought about what he wanted to happen.

"I'm glad you didn't stop."

"Almost did." She nuzzled closer and he decided liked her head on his chest. "Ino wouldn't let me."

Ino? Yamato's body stilled before he laughed. "That first night was staged?"

"She insisted. Said it would work."

He laughed again, letting the worries he'd been living with for months fade away and decided to share with her as much as she was sharing with him. "When you said it had been a while since you shared a bed, it took everything in me not to drag you to mine."

"You eventually got there."

Something about the mischief in her tone caught him. The little minx had been planning it. "So the boy that couldn't take a no?"

"Gay. Friend. Determined to get us together because he swears he's seen you checking out my ass at the market."

"You wear those little spandex shorts that look like they're painted on. It's hard not to."

Sakura laughed at that, her breath coasting over his chest. She had one arm over his stomach and her hand resting over his abs and at her laugh, her hand started circling over his skin.

"Is that so?"

His cock twitched at the leading tease in her tone and he knew they were far from over for the night. He slid his hand from her hip to her ass and cupped one of her cheeks. "Actually, it's hard not to look at your ass no matter what you're wearing."

She murmured against him, a nice little moan as her hips shifted.

Putting his lips to her hair, his fingers dipped between and found her getting wet again. "One of these days, I'm going to fuck it."

To his surprise, her hips jerked and that wetness grew.

"Dirty girl," he commented, sliding his fingers through the slick, only for his breath to catch in his throat when her hand slid down and gripped the base of his cock.

"Have to keep up with you somehow, old man."

It didn't take long before he used his grip on her ass to pull her on top of him.

And spent the rest of the night discovering that Sakura gave as good as she got.