title: dirty talk
pairing: SasuSaku
for: Pina; this was written a frillion years ago.
notes / warnings: BLAH. An ending you can see a mile away. Also, there's (boring) sex talk. Again, this is a very old piece that I found on my flash-drive.

Also, OOC!Sasuke because IC!Sasuke would be far more awkward, methinks.

Finally, as the title indicates, there's some dirty talking in this fic; though it isn't actually pillow talk. XD

summary: CRACK. ONESHOT. SASUSAKU. "So Sasuke-kun," Sakura began, as she did her very best to compose herself. "Let's talk about sex."

disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, there would already be babies—green-eyed, black-haired Uchiha babies. In pink frills. And lace. Yes, even the heir apparent.


This, Uchiha Sasuke decided, had better be good.

He'd been dragged out of his perfectly comfortable bed at precisely 4:03 in the morning with little aplomb, blindfolded with cloth that felt like it had to have been made out of burlap, and plopped unceremoniously into a metal chair located in the bowels of ANBU's T & I (Torture and Interrogation) building. The only reason he knew the last part for certain was that he'd recognized the scent of it, what with the way it had been all but his second home in the first two years after his return from Sound.

Sasuke cursed inwardly. If this was Naruto playing one of his damned jokes again, he swore that he'd beat the blond out of that stupid, loud hair of his—for starters, anyway.

Unfortunately, Sasuke's happy visions of his best friend's death and dismemberment—in that order—were interrupted by a voice that was disembodied, but somehow familiar. If only he could place it—

"Is your name Uchiha Sasuke?"

In response to the decidedly feminine voice, he snorted.

"Hn," he grumped, slumping imperceptibly in his seat. Ha. Leave her to decipher that one.

Suddenly, he felt a cool wisp of breath near his right ear, just under the cloth of his blindfold. It was only thanks to years and years of discipline that he was able to resist the urge to shiver.

"It would do you well to answer my questions as I ask them, Sasuke-kun."

Wait. He knew that voice.

"If you already know who I am," he replied smoothly, "then I needn't answer when you ask, Sakura."

In response, she removed his blindfold, and he found himself blinking blearily at the fluorescent lights that suddenly surrounded him. Sasukegot the feeling that Sakura rather enjoyed the confusion he was sure his face displayed.

"What am I doing here," he deadpanned.

There was no indication at all that she'd even heard him. Instead, she looked at him for a long moment, her eyes running over the pretty picture he made, tied down and restrained by chakra-draining ropes. She inhaled deeply—this, she felt, would not be easy.

"It has come to our attention," Sakura began tonelessly, "that you were never made precisely aware of the nature of human reproduction and—"

"What," Sasuke said blankly. Sadly, he went ignored.

For her part, Sakura looked blissfully unaware of his interruption, but judging from the beginnings of the pink flush making its way across her face, Sasuke figured that her composure was little more than a ruse. Nonetheless, she plowed on, seemingly unabashed.

"As it is the Council's wish—and, might I add, your own once upon a time—that you reproduce—er, that is, that you bring about the resurrection of your clan, and therefore, the Sharingan, it behooves them to explain to you the specific machinations leading up to the birth of a child. As Tsunade-shishou's second-in-command, I have been chosen as their medical representative, and it has recently become part of my duty to ensure that you well-understand the process. As such, after my explanation, please direct any and all questions you might have to me." She finished the speech as though she'd rehearsed it, only now, the red flush was far more prominent. He almost smirked with wicked amusement at the familiar sight, but her next words stole the desire to do anything but sink into the ground, straight out from under him.

"So, Sasuke-kun—let's talk about sex," she said, in what Sasuke thought was a concerted effort to make this far more awkward than it already was.

Sakura tried in vain to ignore the growing flush on her cheeks. She'd balked the moment Tsunade-shishou had given her this "mission"—and had, she remembered now, narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the little grin that seemed determined to make itself at home on her mentor's lips—and had tried her damnedest to refuse it, but her protests had been largely ignored. So, with little more than a last muttered curse, she'd agreed to do her duty.

But really, Sakura had thought soon after. What the hell? What sort of red-blooded man didn't know how to have sex? And how did the Council know that Sasuke-kun didn't, anyway?

Maybe this was all some big joke. Perhaps Naruto, the pervert, had put them all up to it! Tsunade was always looking for ways to get back at her and Shizune for hiding her bottles of "liquid paradise" (i.e. forcing her to be productive). Maybe this was just the latest attempt in the string of many. This sort of nightmarish humiliation seemed right up her alley, Sakura decided. And Tsunade well knew how her apprentice had felt—and largely, still felt—about the recently returned Uchiha. What did she think this stunt would accomplish?

Besides the obvious wish to die under the weight of a thousand worlds just so she wouldn't ever have to see Sasuke's face after this, ever again. Unbidden, Sakura's face began to crumple in despair.

Oh God, how was she going to talk about—that, with him?

Even now, under the heat of his dark gaze, her cheeks flushed with the possibilities.

Sakura thought for a moment, remembering her earlier resolution.

There were a few ways she could have gone about this. One had to consider the approach, after all.

There was no way she'd ever be able to pull off the nice casual approach. She'd never been much into using colloquial terms for naughty bits that had perfectly acceptable—and far more polite—names. And like hell would she be employing the old "birds and bees" metaphor.

No, the key here was scientific distance. The only way she'd be able to get through this without resorting to "I have a crush on the hot guy!" giggles, Sakura decided, was to sound like she'd swallowed a textbook.

So, she decided, allowing herself three more breathing cycles before beginning her monologue, here went nothing.

The moment Sakura had said those last four words, his brain had done him the favor of short-circuiting.

He'd been dragged out of his perfectly comfortable bed at an ungodly hour—or well, whatever, so what if he was usually already up at this time? The Council didn't need to know that—after all, he had been dragged, blindfolded, and essentially manhandled, and all to relearn a lesson that he'd spent a painfully awkward year of his adolescent life trying to forget in the bowels of Orochimaru's lair?

It was, he sniffed, an indignity that could not be borne.

Well hell. He scowled darkly at the woman in front of him as she watched him with unblinking eyes. There was discomfort written on every feature of her face, and not one bit of him was sympathetic. She, after all, was part of this…this….travesty.

When she began to do her breathing exercises in front of him—something, Sasuke knew, which only happened when she was under extreme emotional duress; the sort of something that was reserved for when Kakashi was at his latest, or Sai was at his most socially unacceptable, or for when Naruto was at his most idiotic—he knew that she was on the very brink of her sanity. (That they made her shirt tighten in the most interesting places didn't hurt either.)

Fine then. He knew what to do now.

They'd gone to all this trouble just to educate him, after all. Sakura didn't need to know that he'd already gotten this—thankfully all-theoretical—lesson from Kabuto. She wanted to teach him? He'd make sure he had plenty of questions. And in the meanwhile, he'd work on at least getting his hands free. With how flustered she was getting already, it was unlikely that she'd notice.

Let it never be said that Uchiha Sasuke had ever been an inattentive student.

And besides, he thought, smirking a little at the sight of her flustered in front of him, clad in her white doctor's coat, with her hair tied up, the curve of her pale neck bared for him. His teacher last time had been thoroughly disappointing, only giving him the barest of basics by way of verbal explanation.

Perhaps Sakura would be better.

"Sexual reproduction," Sakura began, her voice echoing in the vast emptiness of the room, "begins most conventionally with preparatory activities collectively, and colloquially, known as foreplay," she said, making air-quotes with her hands. "After foreplay—"

"What's foreplay?" His deep voice interrupted her explanation with little provocation, and when Sakura had registered his question, she could not control the blush.

"I-I just told you, Sasuke-kun. Foreplay is the term given to activities which are meant to—"

"No, I heard that, Sakura." Goodness, did he really have to say her name like that? "I asked what it was. What sort of…activities fall under it?"

Her brow twitched, and she let out a squeak.

"We-well," she stuttered, "there's…kissing."

"Kissing," Sasuke said, raising a brow in question.

"Ye-yes," Sakura squeaked. "Though, perhaps, fellatio is a more common part of the average sexual encounter, as well as its counterpart cu—"

"What was that first one, Sakura? Didn't quite catch it."

"Fellatio," she repeated breathlessly, knowing from the heat at her cheeks that she was now blushing like a consummate virgin. "The act of orally stimulating a penis with one's mouth with the end purpose of achieving an erect state. Now, if that satisfactorily answers your question—"

"—it doesn't," he interrupted, eyeing her with only the barest sliver of amusement in his dark eyes.

"—I'll go on," she said anyway, determined to finish this quickly.

"After both partners have been suitably prepared to undergo the rigours of intercourse proper—that is, after the woman's vagina has been sufficiently lubricated to ease the discomfort of penetration, then it is necessary to—" She was cut off abruptly by the sight of him standing from his formerly prone position on the chair, the ropes hanging off of his wrists and ankles in casual disrepair.

He smirked at her "deer-in-headlights" expression before idly cracking his neck, and stalking around the table that separated him from her, his steps measured and his face almost feral.

Sakura held her ground, determined not to be intimidated by him. She only shivered the lightest bit at the feel of him suddenly surrounding her, behind her. Now it was his breath that fell on her cheek, her eyes that fell shut at the scent of him around her.

"Tell the Council," he said lowly, "I don't do well with theory."

In an instant, his hands were on her, lingering on all the places left bare by her clothing—the inside of her wrists, a sliver of her navel, the back of her knees (all erogenous areas Sakura was unaware she possessed). When his closed lips left the nape of her neck, Sakura shuddered and all but melted, boneless in her seat.

"You'll find," Sasuke said, "I'm far better in practice."


Ahem. Sassy's a little arrogant considering he is kind of a virgin in this piece.

Anyway, please let me know what you think! :D