Disclaimer: I asked Mr. Masashi if I could borrow the boys, he said I could………no seriously, he did…

Warning: YAOI! (boyxboy screwing) So, if you have a problem with this, you may want to leave. I will not get flamed for something that I warned you about. There is a Lemon in this too. So again, no like, no read.

Note: Okay, so I know I should really be working on Follow You, as that's my main fic at the moment. But I couldn't leave this idea alone. As of right now, it is a one-shot. If enough people want me to, then I'll consider continuing it. But enough people have to review and tell me they want more.

Summary: Sasuke is back from Oto, and his brain is muffled from everything that's happened. He's placed under watchful care, but is his guard doing more than watching him?

Narusasu - cause I feel this site needs more uke Sasuke fics. I personally like the idea of Sasuke writhing and moaning under….well, anyone…okay, not anyone, but mostly anyone.

Behind Closed Doors

I let my head fall back on my pillow, thinking about the man laying next to me. He was snoring, something I'd grown accustomed to over the years. This definitely wasn't the first time we'd ever slept in the same bed. I knew all of his sleep habits. Knew that he snored, that he lay with his head almost off the pillow, that his eyes would flutter when he was stuck in a dream he couldn't escape.

I would always wonder if he ever dreamed of me. I would think to myself how good it would feel to know that I was the one to make his lids flutter like that, and his lashes to press themselves closer to his tanned cheek.

But I would quickly turn those thoughts away. He was my best friend, nothing more. He didn't dream of me, even if my own unconscious would not let me go a night without seeing him above me, sweating and panting.

And yet tonight my mind will not let me leave my fantasies to be just that. I don't want them to stop, but I know that this will cause a big problem soon. It's times like these I wish I could just shut down and not think about anything. Because my thoughts always lead to him.

Always.

I reach out with a tentative hand. I know I should stop, shouldn't be touching him. I would do nothing but taint him. I would do nothing but harm him. And I had already done enough of that.

It's only been a few months since my return. A few months since I stood in his doorway, soaked from the rain and stained with something else. The katana hung loosely from my hand then, the blood of another painting the tip red. I don't even remember now whom it was that I had killed, or who had tried to kill me.

I touch his cheek now, and his brow creases. I wonder if this is how I looked that night, when he'd opened his door and found me standing there. He had said nothing, just reached out and cupped my cheek in his hand.

I had never felt so wanted, so loved, in my life.

His eyes open, the cerulean blue from before now a darker sapphire from age. I don't stop my hand still, hoping that he'll just go back to sleep. Instead, he lies perfectly still, and watches my hand make its way to his blonde hair. It, too, has changed in my absence. No longer is it unreasonably spiked and sunny, but it has calmed some, laying down on his head more, and has become a more sandy color. The softness betrays it though, nowhere near the grainy roughness of sand, but like fur.

"Sasuke…" He says my name softly, but not from gentleness and love. He says it that way because he's tired.

"Yeah?" I ask, just as softly. There's really no reason for us to be whispering, we're all alone. No one has lived in the Uchiha complex for so long.

But maybe that is why. We don't want to disturb the dust that has settled on the surfaces, don't want to disturb those souls that rest with it.

I'm startled somewhat when he moves. And even more so when he's closer instead of farther away. I don't flinch when his hand comes to rest on my hip under the blanket. He massages it gently with his thumb.

Maybe, just for a moment, I can pretend he's doing this because he wants to, and it has nothing to do with the orders he was given. So many times I've asked myself why I still let him follow me around. He's only worried I'll go back there, and leave again. Yet, everyone's afraid of that.

He's been ordered to be gentle, has been ordered to pretend he's forgiven me. But just this once, I'll pretend it's something else. Something else entirely.

I remember now, who it was that I killed that night. Somehow, this strange haziness he's brought on with his closeness has cleared my head to other things.

Why I'm here, why I'm being watched constantly. It all comes into focus, as it does from time to time, when my brain isn't so muddled and I let myself make sense of things.

I have no purpose now. The avenger has done what he had set out to do.

And he had smiled while my katana pierced his heart, while the blood carried his life away. He had smiled and said--

"Are you ready to talk?" I'm pulled from my thoughts by another voice. One that's more awake now.

I make up my mind quickly, and I know it's only to convince myself that I'm capable of it.

I swing one leg over him, straddling his waist and look down at startled sapphire eyes. I wonder if mine are just as stunned. Though it's hard to see anything in the grayness, the emptiness that is seen in my own orbs.

I nod, to answer his question and lean closer to him. Using my hands to support me, I place them on the pillow, on either side of his head. I tilt over him until my breath is mingling with his own and our noses almost touch. His hand hasn't left my hip and his other has come to wrap around one of my wrists.

"What happened, Sasuke?" He asks, and I'm struck again by the tenderness of his voice.

Where did this come from? Since when was he the calm one, while I did reckless things like lean over him. We've been in this situation before, during sparring I would tackle him plenty of times. Yet, it's so much different now.

Even though I'm over him, pressing him farther into the mattress with my own weight, I feel completely out of control. He is commanding everything, dominating everything. And all because I've got a broken mind that can only focus when the fogginess gets too thick. It doesn't even make sense to me.

But, it does make sense. In some twisted perspective.

"I killed him." I state simply and see him nod in agreement. He already knew that. Everyone already knew that. "And now….now…."

Now what?

Nothing.

"…I have nothing." I say aloud, even though my voice strains to do so. Why hadn't I thought of this before? Why hadn't I seen this coming? I'd focused on revenge my whole life, that I hadn't worried about what would happen afterwards.

What will happen?

I let my forehead fall to his and close my eyes.

He sighs, but I can't tell if it's because of me or from his fatigue. It must be hard work watching me sit around all day.

"Why can't you get it through your head?" He whispers and I open my eyes to look into his. They're so very close.

"What?" I ask, a little defiance to my voice. And I think that's why he's smirking. Didn't I used to do that?

"That you have everything…" He says and I have the sudden urge to push myself away from him. It disgusts me that he thinks these things. That he thinks he knows everything.

But it's when I start to lift off of him that I'm caught off guard by a strong hand behind my neck, pulling me down to smash my lips to his.

They aren't soft, like I thought they would be. They're chapped from the cold of winter. However, I don't think about it as I let myself fall back onto him. I just let everything fall then.

I'm only vaguely aware of us switching positions, yet, lately I've only been vaguely aware of anything.

I part my lips when I feel his probing tongue; a little too anxious to be thankful he's asking permission. He slides his tongue into my mouth and I message it with my own. The fogginess in my brain only intensifies and I'm able to think even more clearly than before.

When was it that I first thought about this happening? When had I started fantasying about this? I remember the cold cell I lived in in Oto, and how I used to pretend he was with me. It is so much better than I had ever imagined it would be.

The feel of his hand snaking under my shirt and his tongue coaxing my own into his mouth. I hiss when his fingers run lightly over my ribs, it tickles slightly. I run my hand down his back in retaliation, and moan against his lips.

I whimper when he pulls away long enough to pull his shirt over his head and throw it off the side of the bed. He helps me sit up long enough for him to do the same to my own shirt. He clamps back down on my mouth while working with the zipper on my jeans. I wrap my arms around his neck and lift up when he tugs them down my legs, leaving me completely exposed underneath him.

Leaving my lips, he trails kisses down my neck and nips at the protruding collarbone. I urge him on with a moan and wish he would bite hard enough to leave a mark. I'll take anything to know that this is real. The next morning, when I look in the mirror and see who I've become I want to know that this was a part of making that man.

He continues his ministrations down my chest, biting and lick at flesh that is heated but chilled. He dips his tongue into my navel upon reaching it and I let out a hiss. Every part of me is hypersensitive to his touch and I arch into to him just to get more.

I grab a hold of his blonde locks and pull gently, but his strength surpasses my own right now and he continues his descent. He digs his fingers into my hips before he starts on the head, licking and blowing lightly with air that is too cool to come from a human mouth. I close my head and let my head fall back against the pillow, not able to keep it up anymore. I press my lips together tightly to stop a moan from escaping as he runs his tongue along the underside before taking the head into his mouth fully.

I want to buck into him, but his hands on my hips keep me in place. Instead, I'm forced to go through the agonizing slowness of him taking the rest of me into his mouth. He'll surely choke soon, but it's his own life he's putting on the table. I'm surely not going to stop the feelings he's giving me now.

I swallow hard as he pulls back again, still as slowly as before. I imagine how his cheeks must be hollowed and his teeth scraping hardened flesh.

I have to grit my teeth at the abrupt motion of him slamming back down, and his hair tangles further in my tightening grip. My breathing quickens; I'm unable to keep my mouth closed anymore. It doesn't take much for him to have me panting and writhing beneath his hands and mouth. He hums against me and my eyes open suddenly before fluttering back closed.

I come with a scream the next moment, and wait for him to pull away. He snakes back up to settle over me once more, running his hand up my side as he does, and smirks at me. He's got come smeared across his lips and I reach up with a thumb to wipe it off. Placing the digit in my mouth, I notice tasting myself isn't as odd as I thought it would be. It's oddly arousing. He seems to agree with me as he leans closer to kiss me again. His tongue has the same tangy, salty taste to it.

As he slides his hands over my chest, pinching my sides slightly, my own hand reaches for the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He stops kiss me long enough to help me slide them off his legs and he takes the liberty to kick them off the bed. He runs a slick tongue over my lips before taking both my legs by the underside of my knees.

I allow him to wrap my legs around his waist and accept the fingers he shoves into my mouth. I suck on the digits, coating them with my saliva. He places small kisses to my stomach and his hands rub my thighs reassuringly.

He pulls the fingers out of mouth as he reaches into the bedside drawer, finding the object of his searching quickly. I, myself, don't even know how it got there.

"Just relax." He whispers, his fingers ghosting over my entrance. I nod in and try to do just as he says while a finger is pushed into the tight ring of muscle. It's uncomfortable, but I get used to it quickly. When another finger is inserted, I hiss with the pain, my eyes watering.

"Shh…" He's right there, next to my ear, calming me while he works my entrance with his fingers. I'm just starting to adjust to the feel of both of them before he pulls out. He positions himself then, and kisses my temple.

"I'm sorry." He says before slamming into quickly. I'm not able to stifle the pained scream that rips itself from my throat, or the sobs that follow. He kisses my forehead again and nuzzles my hair while whispering into my ear. "Are you okay?"

I nod feverishly. "Just move." I say and wait for him to pull out, just to slam back in. It hurts, probably worse than anything I've ever felt, but I'm okay with it. Even if the tears are still streaming down my cheeks, his moans and whispers of my name calm me surprisingly.

And I just keep getting surprised by him.

He shifts our positions. Taking my legs again to swing them over his shoulders and thrust into me from a different angle. The pain is blocked out completely for a moment where I see nothing but white and a strangled groan escapes my throat.

"Naruto…" I say, and am not prepared for him to hit that spot every time he drives me into the mattress.

I have to claw at his back to sustain any semblance of consciousness when he reaches down to wrap his hand around me, pumping in time to his thrusts.

I'm the first to come, and I do so with another scream. His release follows mine a moment later and we ride out the orgasm that has us both trembling.

I'm still shaking madly when he pulls out of me and lays down beside me.

I'm so tired and too cooling down too fast. He reaches over me to pull the blanket over our naked forms. I curl into him.

I'm sure I fall asleep first, with thoughts of his words the only thing going through my head.

'You have everything.'

I understand now.

I have everything.

Because I have him.

Note: So? How did I do. Technically, this is my first lemon, so go easy on me. Anyway, Go uke-Sasuke fans! Leave a review and tell me how I did……I thrive on feedback.

--Jaide