Author's Note : In the mood for something short and sweet. Well, enjoy and happy reading! Hope you like the story. :)

Disclaimer : I do not own Naruto.

Summary : SasuSaku. Post-Canon. And this was how change happened. One gesture. One kiss. One person. One moment at a time.

Since his decision to stay in Konoha almost two years ago, Sasuke's life had proceeded pretty much the way he'd intended it to. He'd always had a plan. He'd wanted to be reinstated back as a Konoha shinobi and had; he'd wanted to become a chuunin and had passed the examination with flying colors. When he'd fulfilled the mission requirements for another rank advancement, he'd yearned to become an elite jounin, only to sail through every part of the assessments like shooting fish in a barrel.

And most importantly, he'd wanted to rekindle his bond with team 7.

And he had, too.

He'd been forgiven by his teammates easily enough, he supposed. It'd taken a little bribery here and there to seal the deal, such as treating Naruto for a week at Ichiraku, giving Sakura a bouquet of pink cosmos, and buying Kakashi the latest issue of a new erotica series he'd been completely enamored with, but it had all been worth it.

They'd accepted him back with no resentment, no animosity, and not even a grain of anger.

All in all, so far Sasuke was quite satisfied with his life. He felt pleased and content and almost… complete.

It'd taken a person to make him realize that he wanted, needed, and yearned for something more.

A person. Three moments. And three soft, sweet kisses.

A peck is a short tight-lipped kiss on the lips or cheeks. It is used as an expression of friendship and might spark instant romance between two people.

It started with a harmless, seemingly innocuous peck on the cheek.

He'd just completed a solo assassination mission to the Land of Forests when it ensued. From what he'd gleaned from the mission briefing a couple of days prior, it was supposed to be a fairly simple B-ranked operation. He'd been tasked to eliminate an outlaw organization rumored to have based itself on the southern border of the aforementioned country. The group of ruffians had been hardly murderous, composed entirely of genin-leveled shinobis. Nonetheless, they'd succeeded in killing several villagers during their raid, prompting a need for an immediate action to be taken.

For the most part, Sasuke had handled the job perfectly. What he hadn't been thrilled about to acknowledge was the fact that he hadn't emerged unscathed. The injury on his abdomen, however minor it'd been, had drained his stamina. The journey back to Konoha had taken more time than seemed warranted, and he'd arrived home five days away from expectation.

He'd barely entered the village's front gate when he saw her, leaning against the guard post wall, twiddling with her thumbs apprehensively.

"Sakura?"

Her emerald eyes widened like saucers. "Sasuke-kun!"

Then she ran towards him and flung herself into his arms before he even had the time to brace himself. Reacting instinctively, he caught her, staggering under the impact of her weight.

"Oh, Sasuke-kun." She trembled, clinging to him like a lifeline. Tears burned behind her eyelids. "I've been so worried. I thought something happened."

He sighed. "I'm fine, Sakura."

"I'm so glad you're okay." She removed her arms and levered herself away from him, before casting an appraising gaze from his head all the way to his toe. "You're bleeding!" she cried as her eyes caught sight of the stab wound on his upper stomach.

"It's minor. I'm just exhausted, really," he assured softly.

Sakura shook her head, looking at him as if he's suddenly become slow-witted. "I'll be the judge of that, Sasuke-kun, I'm the medic here." She huffed, before throwing her arms in the air in exasperation. "The three of you are so impossible! I don't know what you're trying to prove by avoiding the hospital like a plague, but forgoing treatment when you're clearly injured is dumb."

He cringed inwardly. Guilty as charged. Most shinobis had an irrational aversion to the hospital, but for the male members of team seven, that was putting it mildly. He couldn't even recall the last time any of them had been treated there. Perhaps around a year and a half ago?

Oh, Sakura'd tried talking to them about it. She'd talked to them alright. She'd reprimanded them, scolded them, and even threatened to punch them into oblivion, ad nauseam. It went one ear and out the other, of course. Same old story.

What she failed to realize was that although inadvertently, she was partly to blame for their deteriorating number of visits to the establishment. She pampered and babied and coddled them, obstinately insisting that they be healed by no one but her unless unequivocally necessary. He, Naruto, and Kakashi were of course more than happy to oblige, and predictably, began seeking her straightaway whenever they got wounded, much to her growing chagrin. After all, who'd need the hospital when you have one of the village's best medics at hand?

"Let's have a seat, I'll heal you now. It shouldn't take long," she said with an air of finality, gesturing towards a wooden bench situated alongside the front post.

He chuckled. "Aa."

Sasuke found himself studying her as she concentrated to impart her chakra inside his body, placing the palms of her hands on his abdomen.

Surprising. The word kept circling his mind whenever he thought of his friendship with Sakura. It'd come as a bolt from the blue, something that he'd never considered could transpire two years ago. The unfathomable comfort he felt whenever he interacted with her was wondrous, if not downright bewildering. But odd as it though, somehow it simply… happened.

They'd started getting along better a year back, after team 7 decided to carry on their past weekly training agenda as genins. The pair of them ambled back together on numerous occasions, for convenience's sake initially, since their apartments were located in the same neighborhood. They walked, they chatted, and they spent time together.

Although sometimes they talked around the edges of things, whether anything interesting had happened during their jobs or Naruto's latest practical joke to anyone unfortunate enough to fall victim for it, more often she was content to stroll beside him without saying much. She was remarkably adept at predicting his behavior, seeming to understand that she didn't feel the necessity to fill the silence with endless chatter. They would fall into a comfortable lull of quietness, a peaceful, warm, and soothing quietness, something that he clandestinely appreciated.

Proximity bred into familiarity, and familiarity bred into comfort. Perhaps that adage had its own merits. A couple of years ago, he would have bolted at the promise of spending time with her. Now, after countless conversations and even more casual walks, he wouldn't exchange her companionship for anybody else. She made him feel at ease, a feat that none had ever accomplished before, perhaps with the exception of Naruto.

Needless to say, around the course of the years, Sakura had become more than a simple acquaintance or a mere comrade or an unavoidable teammate. She was a treasured friend, his treasured friend, one whose company he quite recurrently sought.

She was important to him.

"Sasuke-kun?"

He snapped his head to her as reality came sweeping back at him. "Hn?"

"I'm done," she chirped, drawing away her hands from his body.

He nodded. "Aa." He rose from his seat before ruffling her hair. Given her petite stature, Sakura'd always been profoundly conscious about her height, or the lack thereof, although he personally believed she looked fine. Nonetheless, his favored pastime now included impishly teasing her about her insecurity, particularly using this gesture, which he deemed to exasperate her the most. "Thanks, Sakura."

"Mou, Sasuke-kun!" She smacked his hands away before proceeding to stand up from the bench. "I hate it when you do that!" She folded her arms across her chest.

He chuckled. "You're so short I can't help it."

She puffed her cheeks. "You're such a bully!"

A sparkle of amusement brightened his eyes. "Perhaps."

Sakura heaved a small sigh and shook her head. "I'll let it go today because you're exhausted and need to get some rest immediately." A heartbeat later, she jabbed a finger in the air. "But if tomorrow you tease me again, you'll definitely regret it. I mean it, Sasuke-kun!"

He didn't put much stock in that threat. Knowing her as he did, he'd learned early on that when it involved their banters, Sakura was always all bark no bite. She'd never once use violence, ever, even when she acted all tough and intimidating. He smirked. "I know."

As though she guessed his thoughts, she cast him a dubious look. "I really mean it, you know."

His smirk widened. "Hn."

"Fine, have it your way." She huffed under her breath. "I need to go now, my shift will start soon. Well, then…" she broke off.

He expected her to wave before walking away, a routine she'd never failed to go through at their every parting, only to be startled when she suddenly went up on tiptoes to hug his neck. She pressed her lips briefly against his cheek. "I'm really glad you're okay, Sasuke-kun."

He froze.

But she already drew away, flashing a brilliant smile that warmed him through and through. Then she turned to head to the main street that lead towards the hospital and promptly left.

Silence ensued, the only sounds a breeze and birds chirping to greet the day.

Sasuke pressed a hand to the place her silken smooth lips had touched.

Damn.

Okay. Calm down, he thought. He needed a few seconds to sort his mind.

If he possessed one trait in goodly measure, it was self-control. He could handle a lot of unanticipated things. He could face an ambush by a ferocious missing-nin or an assault by his boisterous fans, for instance, and still keep a level head. Being on the receiving end of a peck from Sakura—a meager, innocuous, and friendly peck on the cheek—should not have the capacity to shake his sublime composure.

It did.

It did, with a bone-deep intensity that rivaled a raging earthquake.

Granted, her lips had never lingered for more than three seconds. Granted, it'd been done out of relief. Granted, she'd always been a warm and affectionate girl that he should be unfazed by her blatant display of intimacy.

He wasn't.

Instead, the brief physical contact had caught him entirely off-guard. Instead, it was one of the few times in his life that he felt at a complete loss for words.

He didn't know which bothered him the most, the fact that she'd just kissed him or... the way he felt after she'd kissed him.

His lungs had deflated. His gut had clenched. His heart had pounded like a sledgehammer against his kettledrum. And more importantly, in those fleeting seconds, something inside him stirred awake.

Longing.

Longing, inexpressible longing had come over him so suddenly and with such sharpness that he wished for nothing but to feel more of her touch and let her kiss linger just a little bit longer.

How the hell did that happen? He'd always enjoyed Sakura's company, but this was the first time he'd ever experienced such fierce feelings, those of a completely distinctive nature than purely platonic, for her.

It was unnerving.

That day, Sasuke drifted off to sleep with images of Sakura and her gentle kiss moving sweetly through his mind.

A forehead kiss is commonly used as a means of showing deep affection to a loved one. It can also be given as a comforting gesture.

A month passed in a surreal blur for Sasuke, filled with numerous missions and even more strenuous sparring with team 7. At least until today.

Today marked the third year anniversary of Itachi's death.

Loss was complicated, and Sasuke had struggled with its aftereffects since his passing. He'd experienced relentless emotional upheavals and mental turmoil. There were days when he'd waken up with a feeling of dread, too petrified with anguish and regret to cry. Although those mornings weren't as common and the ache had lessened over time, today he felt his brother's absence with a knife-edged sharpness he couldn't contain.

It left him in a bitter mood.

And he'd learned firsthand that nothing worked better than a vigorous exercise when it came to venting his feelings.

So he trained.

He trained, trained, and trained, all the while keeping a tight grip on his chaotic emotions with steely strength of will. He trained from dawn until dusk, never once stopping until his mind was too drained to grieve and his body too battered to feel.

He'd just succumbed to exhaustion, so winded that he can do nothing but lay motionlessly on the ground, when he heard her voice.

"Sasuke-kun?"

Startled, Sasuke pushed up on one arm. "Sakura?"

She walked and went to kneel in front of him. "Oh, Sasuke-kun. I've been looking for you all over the village." Her eyes glimmered in concern. "You're exhausted. Are you okay?" she whispered.

"Aa." It was all he could think to say.

She shook her head. "You're punishing your body."

"I know." He sat up and clenched his hands into fists. "But I need to do this."

"No, you don't." She regarded him in solemn contemplation. "What you need is some company." She threw a reassuring smile his way. "Do you want to talk about it? What you're angry about, I mean. Sometimes it helps."

The tendons in his throat went taut. He drew a deep breath. "No," he confessed. "I don't think I can't."

"Alright." She nodded. "I only want you to know that death only ends a life, not a relationship. Your bond with Itachi-san will remain, always, for eternity."

Sasuke frowned. "How do you know that this is about Nii-san?"

She gave a startled laugh. "It's not exactly a secret, you know. That today is the anniversary of his death." Then she studied him for a time, and said softly, "I went to the Konoha Memorial stone this afternoon to pay my respect."

He scoffed. "You don't even know him, Sakura."

She shrugged. "I know, but I respect him anyways. Well, more like I feel really grateful to him."

He gave her a speculative look. "What for?"

"Because he died saving you, Sasuke-kun."

His onyx eyes widened in astonishment.

She smiled gently. "If it hadn't been for him, you would've died." She touched her palm to his cheek, caressing him with gentle strokes of her hand. "And I would've been devastated."

Silence.

She sighed. "You don't have to go through this alone. You can always count on me if you feel gloomy." Her eyes danced in amusement. "You can even tease me if that'll make you feel better."

His eyes warmed. "Aa." His body relaxed, and something resembling a smile fleetingly touched his molded lips. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Sasuke-kun." Before he could realize what she meant to do, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him against her. "I might not be Itachi, but I care about you just as much. You're not alone."

Ah. He let his eyes drifted close, allowing himself to be soothed in the circle of her arms. She felt so warm and soft and comforting. As he buried his face in her hair, the scent of her—a wonderful blend of wildflower, sunshine, and faint traces of soap—filled his senses, working on his olfactory nerves like an intoxicant.

God. He could get addicted to her hug.

"Ne, do you know what would make you feel better, other than a hug?" she whispered, her lips feathering his hair.

He raised his dark eyebrows. "No. What?"

"This." She leaned back and pressed her lips to the center of his forehead, a tantalizing caress that felt as soft as a breeze.

His mouth went dry.

"Okaa-san used to do this when I feel sad. It always makes me feel better," she cheerfully expounded after pulling away. "Do you feel better, Sasuke-kun?"

"Aa," he rasped.

He did feel better. He'd completely forgotten about his pain, too overwhelmed by the sensation of her kiss. Longing, too much longing had surged itself along his nerve endings and pooled in his belly. It was as if the feeling that had grabbed him by the throat a month ago just abruptly resurrected.

"I'm glad," she whispered, before continuing her prior act of stroking his cheek.

He closed his eyes.

Sakura. He loved the way she laughed, the sound light and melodious, like a wind chime twinkling in fresh summer breeze. He loved the way she smiled, how her mouth turned up sweetly at the corners, making her countenance glow as radiant as the sun. He loved her silky rosette hair, her luminous emerald eyes, and her flawless ivory skin.

She was beautiful, gentle yet vivacious, and understanding. He enjoyed her company and liked her as a person. She made him feel alive in a way he hadn't been since the war. What more could he want in a woman?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing, for everything about her was perfect. She was perfect. And she was everything he'd ever wanted and more.

Since a month ago, he'd been struggling not to feel physically attracted to her. Sasuke cherished their friendship, and he'd tried to be happy with that, especially since her blatant declaration of not loving him anymore a year and a half ago. He'd tried to tackle his desire away, and failing that, attempted his very best to ignore it.

He didn't think he could ignore it now.

...I love her.

The thought, when it struck him, felt at once surprising and natural. He loved her, wanted her to be with him.

And he would do anything he could to attain her affection back.

Sasuke scowled. Only he couldn't do so without caution. He needed to proceed slowly, gradually making her fall in love with him over again without frightening her. If he suddenly blurted out that he was in love with her and she didn't reciprocate his feelings, their friendship might be ruined.

He couldn't have that.

French kiss is a passionate kiss reserved for lovers. It is the most popular kiss of all and serves as an indication of unfathomable desire.

It was two weeks after that Sasuke realized Sakura had loved him all along.

He'd planned to take her to the new dango establishment that had just opened in the civilian district of downtown Konoha, one of the strategies he'd developed to coax her back into his arms. After all, what better way to let her realize he liked her—loved her—than taking her out on a friendly date? On the pretext that he'd been craving for some sweets, not that he would ever do, he would ask her to go with him. He smirked. A perfect plan indeed.

He'd just arrived at the hospital entrance to pick her up when he witnessed her conversation with a colleague.

"Sakura-san, you promise to go on a date with me this afternoon."

She sighed. "I'm really sorry, Takeru-san. But I have a plan today. Maybe tomorrow?" she replied.

The man, a brunette Sasuke figured to be in his early twenties, scowled. "You always say that." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you have a boyfriend, Sakura-san?"

Sasuke stiffened.

She chuckled. "No, Takeru-san. But I do have someone who's really special to me," she continued softly. "Someone I love."

His body snapped taut. Both of their voices promptly faded into a background murmur as he mulled over what he'd just learned.

She was in love with someone else?

The possibility of her being with another man had never entered his mind before, and now that it had, it made him sick. An awful, rolling nausea settled at the pit of his stomach.

Her calming hugs. Her soothing caresses. Her silken kisses. All for another man.

Sasuke ground his teeth. Rage shook him, raw and deadly and so searing it demanded release.

No.

No. He loved her, damn it. He loved her too much to let her go. And he definitely refused to lose her to a random man who probably wouldn't appreciate or treat her the way she deserved to be treated.

He would not allow that.

She was better off with him.

"Sakura."

She snapped her head towards him. "Sasuke-kun." She beamed a smile and walked to approach him near the doorway after excusing herself from her acquaintance. "What's wrong?"

"Who is it?" He clenched his fists with such intensity that his knuckles went pale.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The man you love," he growled.

She paled. "I-I don't understand," she stammered.

"You heard me, Sakura." He pinioned her with glittering eyes. "Who. Is. It." he spat.

She hugged her waist, avoiding his gaze. "There's no one, Sasuke-kun."

"Sakura." He drew a breath to control his raging temper. "I heard your conversation."

"O-Oh." She closed her eyes. "It's nothing, Sasuke-kun. It's only a crush anyway. And he doesn't feel the same way," she told him, her voice tremulous.

But the sorrow in her oval face and the shimmer of brightness in her emerald eyes told him otherwise. The depth of her feelings went far more profound, much stronger than a meager infatuation. And she was heartbroken because the man—that damned bastard he swore he was going to mercilessly murder after this—didn't share her sentiment.

He cursed inwardly. "He doesn't deserve you."

"Huh?"

"He doesn't deserve you." He shook his head. "Any man would be lucky to have you," he said bitterly. "Any man."

Her eyes widened.

He sighed, his expression solemn. "I know you don't love me anymore, but-" he broke off and swallowed. "I love you, Sakura."

Her heart surged with hope.

He bowed his head. "I know I have a lot of faults, and I've hurt you a lot in the past."

"Sasuke-kun."

He didn't seem to hear her, for he continued his ramblings. "I also know how I tried to kill you-"

"I love you too, Sasuke-kun," she admitted, cutting him off mid sentence.

Silence fell before them.

He looked blankly at her for a long moment. "What?"

Her cheeks went fiery hot. "That person is you." She drew a shaky breath. "I've never stopped loving you. I've tried, but I just can't."

Sasuke froze.

"I'm sorry for lying. I'm afraid of losing you." She nibbled on her lower lip. "I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all."

"Do you-Do you really love me?" she inquired hesitantly. "Please don't tell me that just to make me feel better." Her eyes went bright with tears.

He met her gaze.

His stomach took a dive. His throat went tight.

God. Her eyes. Longing, so much longing lurked in her eyes. And yet along with that, he could see an endless bout of fear, of uncertainty, of doubt. She truly did question his love for her.

Sakura. She thought he considered her as a mere friend. She'd carefully kept her affection hidden, undoubtedly convinced that he would never return them.

But the fact was that she loved him. She loved him with all her being. Had been, did, and would. Always.

A torrent of possessiveness, heavy and oppressive, rushed through his nerve endings.

His. She was his. He wanted to possess her. Lay claim on her. Kiss her senseless until she could feel the depth of his feelings, the ferocity of his desire for her.

So he did.

He cupped her chin and moved in. Tipping her face to an accommodating angle, he pressed his lips on hers. As her mouth remained closed, he applied gentle pressure to force them open.

Her lips trembled beneath his—a shy, startled, uncertain surrender, her lungs grabbing convulsively for breath. He shared his own, angling his head to deepen the kiss, dipping into the recesses of her mouth for a taste. Sweet. She tasted so wonderfully, incredibly sweet.

Damn. She had the most fantastic, intoxicating little mouth, and her shyness only prodded him, making him want to delve deeper, to taste every honeyed recess. Silk on silk. He brushed his lips lightly over hers, nibbling, coaxing with flicks of his tongue, urging her to relax.

She sighed raggedly and he could feel her slender fingers grasp the front of his shirt. Finally, she sank against him, leaning forward to savor more of their kiss.

It was all the incentive he needed to proceed.

He slipped his arms around her, drawing her even closer. Her lips went malleable beneath his. Her tongue engaged with his in a shy, hesitant dance of touch and retreat.

His head spun. He wanted, needed to be in complete control—thrust deeper, orchestrate her movements, the urge so primal and so compelling he was powerless to restrain it.

Only by supreme force of will and the conscience that they were in the public eye did he finally leaned back to end the kiss.

Gazes locked, they stared at each other. Her eyes were cloudy and confused, her pupils large and glassy. Looking into her eyes, he knew the instant awareness began to return to her.

Her first reaction was disbelief, quickly followed by embarrassment that brought a rosy flush to her cheeks.

"I love you, Sakura." The sincerity in his voice had her searching his eyes. "Don't stop loving me," he uttered fiercely.

"Please."

Her eyes glimmered with gladness and tears. "Oh, Sasuke-kun," she said shakily. "I love you, too."

"I know," he whispered. He held her close, reveling in the feel of her against him. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that."

She smiled softly. "It's alright." She closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"You're well worth the wait."

Author's Note : How was it? I wanted to make this fanfic short and light and sweet, I supposed, with a little bit of fluff here and there. Hope it lives up to your expectation. Not my best work, but I hoped it's not that crappy. :)

English is not my primary language, so please pardon my mistakes.

Critics and suggestions would make me the happiest girl alive!