Poems I Do Not Write

Sakura realizes a month before graduation that she's in love with both of her best friends. This rush of clarity isn't sparked by anything meaningful or momentous. Just a simple afternoon alone with Sasuke and Naruto, lying in her backyard on a quilt Mikoto made for them, their hands linked together like daisy chains. She's in the middle, as always, bookended by the boys who have framed her life. Sasuke's grip is firm, solid and secure, while Naruto tangles his fingers with hers playfully, teasing her palm with his thumb. And it hits her, then and there, that she simply cannot do without either of them. Somewhere along the way, these young men have lured her heart into their hands, and now she doesn't know how to get it back.

She has known Sasuke and Naruto since they were babies together, toddling around the sharp edges of furniture. She grew up beside them (no, between them), climbing trees with childish abandon and stealing ice cream from the freezer to glut themselves on. Her life is built of small moments strung together, like a thread that is impossibly intertwined with the boys she has come to think of as hers.

Now she sits up, breath coming a little too fast, a fact her friends are quick to notice. Sasuke puts a hand on her shoulder, offering silent comfort, and Naruto asks, "You all right, Sakura?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lies. Sakura leans against Sasuke, and he wraps an arm around her waist, casually possessive. Naruto looks at her with concerned blue eyes, as if he doesn't quite believe her.

The three of them always pass notes in Japanese, so that they can write whatever they want without fear of discovery. American teachers hate it, on the occasions they've been caught and their messages apprehended.

Mr. Taylor is a bastard for giving us so much homework. Sakura passes the note to Sasuke, and while the teacher writes equations on the board, he scribbles down a response and gives it back, smirking.

Well if you can't handle it I'd be happy to tutor you. They've had a friendly academic rivalry for years, both vying for top of the class. Valedictorian and Salutatorian should be announced anytime now, and Sakura is confident that she and Sasuke will claim those spots. Just in what order, she isn't sure.

I'll manage just fine, thanks very much. But if you ever need help, let me know. I've had great success teaching slower learners.

You're even prettier when you get huffy.

Don't try to flatter your way out of trouble.

Since when do I care that I'm in trouble? I was just stating a fact.

Mrs. Graham picks up the note while Sakura is in the middle of formulating a response. She opens it, rolls her eyes, and says, "At least write in English, kids." Then she rips up the paper and tosses it in the trashcan. "Now pay attention."

Sakura blushes, feeling a little chastened, but Sasuke just sits there, calm and still, looking bored. Reprimands never have much fazed him, unless they come from his father.

She tries to listen to Mrs. Graham's lesson, but through the rest of class, all Sakura can think is, Sasuke said I'm pretty.

After the bell rings, they meet Naruto in the cafeteria for lunch. He complains about the difficulties of Trigonometry and then picks Sakura up and swings her around. Naruto is easier with public affection than Sasuke is, and when he sets her back on the ground, she leans into his embrace, smiling.

Lunch is the same as it was last Wednesday: chicken patties, dehydrated mashed potatoes, green peas, and salty bread. Sakura buys a strawberry milk and prays it will help her wash down this meal, like a beer chasing hard liquor.

They sit at their own table, away from the white kids. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura are the only Japanese-Americans at John F. Woodall High, and although they mostly get along with the rest of the student body, lunch is a time that they reserve just for one another.

"I think Mom's gonna cave and give me the old Buick to take to college," Naruto says. He eats every bite of this less than pleasant lunch as enthusiastically as if he were at a fine restaurant and not a high school.

"It's about time one of you losers got a car," Sasuke says. "I'm tired of being the group chauffeur." He brought his lunch, as he does every day, because Uchiha Mikoto always packs him a fine meal. This afternoon he's eating homemade sashimi, and Sakura is on the verge of stealing a piece. Instead, she picks at her chicken patty, but can't make herself eat it.

Naruto laughs. "Not everyone gets handed a BMW on their sixteenth birthday."

"Hn," Sasuke says, and he returns to his sashimi.

Sakura watches her boys bickering, like they've done all their lives, but today it makes her heart beat faster. They're so handsome, both of them, even when they're angry or irritated.

I'm lost, she thinks. What on earth am I going to do?

The Haruno and Uchiha families go to dinner at Naruto's house on Thursday night, like they've been doing every week for as long as Sakura can remember, because Kushina is the best cook out of all their parents. She loves Thursdays, the smell of miso filling the Uzumakis' house, the sound of Japanese on everyone's tongues because there's no need to bother with English. And the love between their mothers is evident. Mikoto, Kushina, and Mama were best friends in Japan, and they all came to the United States together almost twenty years ago, pregnant with babies they wanted to be born on American soil. Now Mama and Mikoto help Kushina in the kitchen, shooing their children upstairs to Naruto's room.

They decide to watch a movie but can't agree on which one to pick. Sasuke wants something boring and black and white by Kurosawa, Naruto votes for an action flick full of things blowing up, and Sakura wants to see the new French romance film all the critics are talking about.

Sasuke finally says, "Whatever, I'm with Sakura. I'd rather watch two girls kissing than another Michael Bay movie."

They pile onto Naruto's orange bed and start the film, which turns out to be more explicit than Sakura expected.

"You sure know how to pick a movie, Sakura-chan," Naruto says, laughing.

She blushes and says, "We should probably change it to something else before one of our parents comes up here and sees this."

Maybe Sasuke hears the nervous tremor in her voice, because he says, "Is that what you're really worried about? Or does it make you uncomfortable to watch a sex scene?"

"It does not!" she says. Sakura steals the remote control from Naruto and turns off the TV. "But I'd get grounded until I go to college if I was caught watching this."

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Naruto says in English. He reaches over and tries to tickle her, but Sakura smacks his hand away playfully.

She feels her blush warming her neck now. "Oh stop quoting Hamlet like you've even read it."

"It's all right if sex embarrasses you," Sasuke says, in the most patronizing voice possible. The slightest smirk is playing around the edges of his mouth.

"Sex does not embarrass me," Sakura says. "I want to have it as much as anybody else, and I'm not ashamed of that."

There's something funny in the way the boys are looking at her now—Naruto uncharacteristically serious, Sasuke a little off-put—but Sakura can't quite interpret what their expressions mean.

Her dress is a backless, crimson satin gown that hugs her gentle curves. Sakura spent hours searching Dillard's and Macy's for just the right thing, but she finally found this lovely gem hidden away at the back of Cache. She spends a half-hour getting her light makeup right and twisting her long hair up into a bun.

Mama smiles when she comes down the stairs, and Papa starts taking a flurry of flashing photographs.

Sasuke and Naruto asked her to the prom within hours of each other, and after a day's deliberation, she said yes to both of them. Now they stand in her parents' little living room, Naruto wearing a white tux, Sasuke all in black. They're beautiful, and she couldn't choose between them if she tried.

Sasuke puts a red rose corsage on her arm, and after Papa has taken enough pictures to fill an album, he asks, "Ready to go?"

She smiles, hooks her arms through his and Naruto's, and says, "Yes."

They drink champagne (from Sasuke's parents' cellar) in the back of the limo—an expense bankrolled by Uchiha Fugaku—and laugh together about last year's prom. How Sakura wore that dreadful, hot pink princess dress, and Naruto made the mistake of coming with Sally Drew, who couldn't keep her hands off of him all night.

Sakura holds up her fluted glass and says, "To graduation."

"I'll drink to that," Naruto says.

They're a little tipsy by the time they reach Ruth's Chris, but after a hundred dollar meal, Sakura feels perfectly sober again.

Prom is at the Hutton Hotel ballroom this year, and she gapes at the grandeur of the place.

"Wanna dance?" Naruto asks.

"Of course," she says.

She wraps her arms around his neck, he puts his hands on her waist, and Sakura rests her head against his shoulder. Even in heels, she's a good bit shorter than him. This close together, she feels small and delicate, and she can't help but notice how nice Naruto's mouth is when he smiles.

"You look gorgeous tonight," he says.

"Only tonight?" she teases.

He spins her around. "Excuse me, you look gorgeous every day."

They end up dancing together to not one song, but three. By the time she gets back to the table, Sasuke is eating chocolate covered strawberries and looking sulky. Naruto runs off to talk with some of his friends from the basketball team, leaving Sakura alone with her other date.

"Is something wrong?" she asks.

"No," Sasuke says, but she can tell from his tone that he's lying.

"Right." She steals one of his strawberries and bites off half of it before he can blink.

He shoots her a disgruntled look and says, "Thief."

Sakura shrugs and enjoys her victory. The tartness of the strawberry only makes the chocolate taste sweeter by contrast.

"Why didn't you just come with Naruto?" Sasuke asks.

"What?"

"You've been leaning on him and dancing with him all night. Why did you even bother bringing me along?"

She frowns, confused. "I thought you wouldn't want me to be too affectionate in front of everyone, and you hate dancing."

Sasuke looks away, across the room, and says, "I'd like to dance with you."

"Then come on," Sakura says. She takes his hand and pulls him onto the dance floor.

Sasuke holds her more firmly than Naruto did, as if he's afraid she might slip out of his grasp if he isn't careful. He smells like expensive cologne, but underneath that there's a scent that's all Sasuke. He's so handsome, and it almost hurts she wants to kiss him so badly.

"Let's me, you, and Naruto get a room," she says, but instead of sounding bold, like she intended, Sakura's voice comes out weak, breathless.

Sasuke's eyes darken, and he looks across the room to where Naruto stands, laughing with his teammates, oblivious to this conversation. "Just to hang out?"

Bravery abandons her, and she says, "Yeah, just to spend a couple more hours together. I don't really feel like hitting an after party."

"Sure," Sasuke says. "Whatever you want."

The three of them end up on the hotel bed, shoeless, Sakura cuddled against Naruto's chest, Sasuke's arm wrapped around her waist. They finished off that bottle of champagne an hour ago, and she's feeling just brave enough to say, "I love you, both of you."

Naruto smiles. "Love you too, Sakura."

Sasuke has trouble saying those words, she knows, so she doesn't take offense when he merely holds her tighter.

Without thinking too much about it—because if she does, her courage will fail her—Sakura props herself up and kisses Naruto.

He does nothing at first, and she can feel Sasuke stiffen behind her. But then Naruto puts a hand in her hair, dislodging some of the pins she so carefully placed just hours ago, and kisses her back. He tastes like champagne, chocolate, and boy, and this moment couldn't be more perfect.

Until she feels Sasuke pull away. Sakura breaks the kiss, turns over, and catches him by the arm. "Wait."

"I'm don't want to lay here and watch the two of you make out," Sasuke says, and he sounds as hurt as he does angry. "I'm going home."

Sakura doesn't know what to say, so instead of saying anything, she kisses him. Sasuke freezes, then opens his mouth to her, tastes her with an aggressive possessiveness that should maybe scare her, but it doesn't.

When they part, Sakura breathes deep and says, "I love both of you, and I want both of you."

Naruto brushes his lips against her shoulder, the contact as light as butterfly wings fluttering on her skin. "I know," he says. "I think I've known for a while. And it's okay, Sakura."

Sasuke cups her cheek and says, "As long as I get to be with you, I don't care about anything else."

Naruto holds her hips, kissing the back of her neck, as she watches Sasuke undress. Jacket, bowtie, vest, shirt, pants, all discarded, until he stands before her, naked except for his blue boxers. At a glance, she takes in the breadth of his shoulders, the hard plane of his stomach, the taut muscles in his arms and legs, and she feels warmth gathering low in her belly.

"Your turn," Sasuke says.

Sakura pushes the little straps of her dress off of her shoulders, and the gown falls to the floor, pooling around her bare feet. The nervous part of her wishes that she'd chosen more covering underwear for tonight, but her braver self is glad of the red lace thong she's wearing. She starts to cover her small breasts, but Sasuke holds her hands, and says, "Let me look at you."

She swallows, trembling, and drops her arms away from her chest. "Okay."

Sakura takes the pins out of her hair, so that it falls loose down her back, while Naruto undresses. He immediately runs his fingers through the silky pink strands.

"I love your hair," he whispers in her ear—then, "Turn around. I want to see you too."

It's just as nerve-wracking, baring herself to Naruto, but if he finds fault in her, it doesn't show on his face. He looks half-drunk, wonder-struck. Eager hands cup her breasts, and the feel of his rough palms against her nipples makes Sakura bite her lip, holding back a gasp. Naruto kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and finally her mouth. Softly at first, then harder, deeper.

Behind her, Sasuke bites her shoulder, not ungently, and presses his body flush against her back, hands cradling her hips. She can feel him, half-hard through his boxers, and now Sakura wants whatever cloth is separating them to be gone.

She breaks the kiss, pulls away from them both, and slips off her panties. They stare at her, eyes roaming over her nakedness, Sasuke looking greedy, Naruto dumbstruck.

Sasuke picks Sakura up and drops her on the bed. He kneels before her on the mattress and starts rubbing slow, maddening circles on her sex. It feels impossibly good, so much better than when she's touched herself (always thinking of him, or Naruto, or both of the men she loves having her at once). Naruto lies beside her and bends over her chest, taking her nipple in his mouth, and that small pleasure only amplifies the bliss of Sasuke's fingers working between her legs. Sakura arches her back as the feelings build, so close she can barely stand it. Then Sasuke slides two fingers inside of her, and it hurts a little, but in the sweetest way, and she cries out, pushing herself against him until she comes.

Sakura is still high on the aftermath of her climax when Sasuke climbs on top of her, spreads her thighs, and presses his cock against her. "Can I?" he asks, and his voice is so beautifully strained, like he's on the verge of losing control.

She looks up into his dark eyes, wraps her legs around his waist, and says, "Yes."

Sakura reaches out, her hand searching for Naruto's. She looks over, watches his blue eyes, darkening with some emotion—maybe desire, maybe jealousy—as Sasuke pushes inside of her.

He takes her hand, and she squeezes it tight, because there's a slight pain as she stretches to accommodate Sasuke. "Kiss me," she says to Naruto, and he takes her mouth with his. She focuses on the sweetness of the kiss rather than the hurt. Slowly, the sharpness of the pain lessens and she feels a surge of pleasure with every thrust. She lifts her hips, meeting him, and Sasuke moves faster, harder, until he stiffens and makes a sound low in his throat. He pulls out, spills on her stomach, and collapses on the bed beside her.

"You didn't have to do that," Sakura says, breathless. "I've been on the pill since I turned eighteen. I'm sorry, I probably should have mentioned it before we did this."

Sasuke shakes his head. "I should have asked."

Naruto kisses her collarbone, her throat, and Sakura puts her hands in his messy blonde hair. "I want you too," she whispers.

He doesn't need telling twice. Naruto settles over her, kissing her. Sakura loves the warm weight of him and the way it feels when he slides inside of her. They rock together, lost in each other, and as the pleasure mounts, Sakura rakes her nails down his back, grips his hips as he thrusts. "Don't stop," she whimpers. It feels different from the way Sasuke made her come with his hands—harder, slower—but just as good. Naruto reaches between them and touches her, more gently than Sasuke had, yet it's every bit as sweet. She's on the edge, and with another stroke, another thrust, she falls over it.

Naruto comes inside of her, and she can feel the wet warmth between her legs. He shudders and moans, meeting her eyes all the while.

He pulls out slowly and falls to the mattress next to her, and now she's caught in the middle of two lovers, Naruto to her right, Sasuke to her left, feeling hard-used but happy.

"What do we do now?" Sasuke asks.

"Go to sleep," Naruto says, smiling. He puts a protective arm around Sakura's middle.

"I don't mean right now," Sasuke says to Naruto. "I mean tomorrow, and the next day. We can't tell our parents that we're both with Sakura. They wouldn't understand."

"Nobody will understand," she says. Sakura touches Sasuke's cheek, a soothing gesture, she hopes. "Let's just keep it to ourselves. This is nobody's business but ours anyway."

"So we lie to our families," Naruto says. "We lie to everybody."

Sasuke plays with her hair absently. "Do you have any better ideas?"

Naruto frowns. "No, I guess not."

They do fall asleep, the three of them intertwined, until morning sunlight filters through the blinds and wakes them.

"Oh no," Sakura says, and she hurries to climb out of bed and start dressing. "Mama's going to kill me. My curfew was two o'clock. What time is it?"

Sasuke sits up, the back of his hair a mess, and grabs his phone from the bedside table. "It's six," he says, dully.

"We're all dead meat," Naruto says. "Especially you, Sasuke. Your dad's gonna rip you a new one."

"Whatever," Sasuke says, and to Sakura's surprise he smiles and steals a glance at her. "It was worth it."

Their parents ground all three of them until graduation, but Thursdays are still get-together nights, so five days later, she finally gets to see Naruto and Sasuke. She's half-afraid that things will be strange, but she feels nothing besides comfort when Naruto pulls her into a warm hug. Sasuke wraps an arm around her from the back, pushes her hair aside, and kisses the nape of her neck. "I love you," he whispers, almost too quiet to catch. She can hear the smirk in his voice when he adds, "Miss Valedictorian."

Sakura looks up at Naruto and asks, "Didn't I tell him I'd win?"

"You did," Naruto says, grinning too.

Sakura steps away from them and looks at the men she adores, as different and as beautiful as the sun and the moon. "You're perfect, both of you," she says.

They'll never be able to explain their relationship to the world. It will be a secret she carries in her heart, but that doesn't matter, not as long they have each other.

They lie on the bed, tangled up together, a mess of three-sided love, and Sakura smiles. She wouldn't have it any other way.

Author's Notes: This fic is for DeepPoeticGirl, who requested a NaruSakuSasu threesome, and uchihasass, who wanted a high school AU. Many thanks to DeepPoeticGirl for making a donation to UNICEF Nepal Earthquake Relief Fund as part of the Naruto for Nepal project in exchange for this story. I hope you ladies enjoy this!