Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.


A/N: Uhm, I should be studying. I'm not.

Pancakes

How could he possibly be as turned on again when they had sex an hour ago? What was wrong with him? Was there something wrong with her? No, it was him, definitely him.

The bitter caffeine diluted in his veins and it was maddening him minute by minute to watch her from the side of the table as she meddled the pancake mixture, slowly, with that small smile on her moistened lips (that trick stopped being a trick long ago because she knew he loved when she licked or bit her lips like that, abusing his wavering control) and periodically put back a lock of rosy silk behind her ear so that it doesn't obstruct her view.

Her hair, oh gods, her hair… It's never been as long and it has never been such a gift to his aching eyes. He most certainly came back home because his eyes hurt like hell and needed her to examine them. Not because she looked like a divine blessing sent to him from some very, very merciful god that has overlooked all the stupendous screw-ups he did for the most part of his life.

Sakura stole a glance at him for a second, her morning eyes flashing curiously, before turning around to search for another bowl in the shelf across. The low shelf. Lowest. She bent down gracefully, revealing the scarlet lingerie that he removed last night without much effort. He was pretty mad that she wore his shirts the first three times, but he gradually changed his mind. It was kind of reassuring that she found his clothes comfortable. Anyway, his body was not dealing very well with the situation, given the terrific view.

Sakura left the new bowl on the table, unable to hide her smile. The mischievous spark in her eyes was apparent when she walked to the counter again, pulling a drawer open with a pull of her sleeve and a sensual twist of her hand that revealed her wrist and the delicate, nacreous bracelet that she loved wearing so much.

There was a subtle allure in the way her hands moved - freely and with an unostentatious lack of any purpose at first sight - but when he caught himself following the mannerisms they seemed different and intentional. Or so he thought. Maybe she has always moved like that. Maybe she knew it had a hypnotic power over him and was taking advantage of it at the moment.

"If you keep up with the pressure, we'll have a cup less soon." She commented indifferently, nodding at the cup he squeezed nearly to the point of breaking due to the haze that clouded his vision for the last two minutes. Shit.

Sakura slowly stepped sideways so that her hip could close the drawer and Sasuke had to look away, down the line of the table rim, then his cup, then the window. It looked like a fine day. He had no memory of wanting something as bad.

He startled when her hands touched his, playfully detaching his fingers one by one from the cup. "I like this one, don't destroy it please." Her face was close to his because she had bent over the table and fortunately, the first buttons of the shirt were loose and revealed a lot of her cleavage.

Dammit, why did she have to be so perfect? Why was he so hard was the next convenient question, but it was quickly followed by the more important one, why did she do this to him. Was she bored? Was he boring? He's never been boring to her. The thought stung him a bit. Five years of marriage… No way. He was cool and strong enough to kick the Hokage's ass. And famous. (For his crimes.) Ok, scratch that. Overall, he was still pretty cool. Right? Were there any cooler guys around, he would've known.

"You okay?" Sakura chuckled, pulling the cup off his grip before he breaks it. Her warm breath tingled his skin. "You don't look like it."

How insolent. Playing with him as if he's some sort of a toy. Sasuke stood up and grabbed her, easily lifting her body on the table as she laughed out loud and exclaiming something about being careful with the pancake mixture, but if she thought he'd listen to anything else than her moaning in his ear, she was dead wrong.

"Because I'm not," He growled in her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter, but she was apparently having immense fun seeing him anguish. One of the traits that classified her a good wife for an Uchiha. He had to relive the torture from time to time, to not lose the balance.

But then she put a hand on his chest and pushed him away with a shake of her head, feet touching the ground.

"Uhm, sorry but I'm cooking." Sakura acquired a serious expression once again and headed for the pan on the other side of the counter as if nothing happened.

Sasuke followed her with his eyes, not moving a single nerve for one long, painful minute. If he forced her, it'd be considered her victory so he had to come up with other ways to respond. But thinking straight right now was nearly impossible.

He couldn't stop thinking about how she responded an hour ago. It was one of those days, he couldn't quite distinct the pattern yet, when they fell into this pit of her fathomless adoration mingled perfectly with his endless arousal. He didn't know what madness caught them on days like this, but they usually ended up exhausted as hell, with him wondering what he did to deserve her.

Sasuke watched her put some amount of the pancake concoction into the pan with a comical intent before proceeding to even it out in a perfect circle. He crossed the small distance between them and stopped behind her, hand slipping around her form and pulling it closer.

"No." She said adamantly, removing his hand most casually and continuing with her productive activity.

"Sakura," He spoke in her ear, softly, the way she loved and shivered to, but he moved nothing in her now. She was consumed by achieving a gilded color for her first pancake. Right after she did, she went on with a second.

Maybe if he tried triggering her with other weak points, he'd finally get what he wanted. It was worth a try.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He applied his most authentic accusatory intonation and glanced a shot of heat coloring the side of her cheek, even though she stubbornly kept her straight face. He leaned in lower, to breathe in from the sweetness of her perfumed shampoo. "You know I only have hours with you before I leave again and you're wasting them away."

The silence extended some more, filled with the pleasant, bread-like aroma of the pancakes and the quiet sizzling of the pan, which on any other day he'd find soothing. He only wished to touch her, was it much to ask?

"I thought the art of deception ran in your family. You're not quite good at it." Sakura turned to give him a quick smile, then put more of her mixture in the pan. She already made… three? Four pancakes. He wasn't even hungry. Surely she wasn't either and she only made them to torture him with her… seductive movements.

Sasuke narrowed eyes at her, glad that she had her back on him and silently swallowing down the desire that burned him alive at this point. His ideas ran short already and her denial was practically causing him physical pain. She really did enjoy this, didn't she?

"You want me to beg you?" He asked in despair, pulling the collar of her shirt so that it could bare her skin. "Is that what you want?"

"Mmm," She bit her lip, pretending to not notice his touch and his lips skimming over her shoulder and up to her neck, stopping behind her ear. She nearly dropped her ladle, eyes closing and lips apart with what he hoped was a glimpse of pleasure. Finally some progress.

"Please." He added quietly.

"Mm… no." Sakura puffed out a chuckle and stopped the heater, waiting for the last pancake to darken enough with a thoughtful expression.

"No?"

"No." She left the spoon and turned around to look at him. The feigned concern on her eyes was like a slap to him and he had to take a deep breath to try to calm himself down. Although… he was past calming down by now.

She was striking back, for all the time she had to wait for him. Of course. He knew she'd strike back and she'd inflict the maximum damage possible, whenever she gets the chance. One of the few times he actually suffered was when she within his reach and he couldn't have her.

For someone who was used to shifting from an objective to another with no delay whatsoever, her refusal was, mildly and completely fairly said, upsetting him to some deep levels he hadn't still comprehended. Especially given the fact he had been numerously announced by the others as attractive and desirable. A fact that set him into thinking he wouldn't have any problems with seducing Sakura in the first place. She practically dreamt of being seduced by him. He never thought he'd have problems with her seducing him.

"This is very frustrating to me, please stop."

Sakura let out something of a snicker and a giggle, and shrugged. "I know."

"I-"

Sasuke cut the sentence with yet another unpleasant tumble of his stomach (he lost count after the third) as Sakura unbuttoned the shirt that covered most of her body and slowly opened it, letting it fall on the floor, eyes shamelessly holding his. The heat that washed over him was like a sensible wave, a daze that hit him unexpectedly. There was a faint blue luminescence flowing through Sakura's body and the sight got him by surprise. He made a small step back.

Sakura's expression was drastically altered by a strong blush, she gasped with something like a pleasant apprehension.

"You must really want me, then." She mouthed quietly, more to herself, with another, guilty bite of her lip. The last one she allowed herself before he reached for her and the kitchen table creaked under their pressure within the next second.

"You're making me feel sick when you warp like that," Sakura breathed out as he struggled to strip, kiss her and touch her at the same time.

"I know, I just…" He moaned, the awful pressure and all those clashing sensations in his body obstructed the usually easy ability to form words in his mind. He owed her an apology and he'd owe her a few more after this, but the need to feel her close was overwhelming any other.

His breath split up as he entered her, finishing out loud when she turned out to be already wet. Her body was half-lying on the table, slightly arching against his, but she clearly wished to be closer and kiss him so she tried to restore her composure, and found his mouth again, replying feverishly.

Sasuke pressed them both against the table, enjoying the puffed moan she let out, bucking against him. Her nails clawed at his arm and back as she threw her head back and allowed him to satiate on her neck, and move against her at his own pace, aware that it hurt her a lot more than her groans revealed.

She did not mind, though. Of course she didn't. On days like this, she let him do whatever he wanted with her and loved it all nevertheless. The sounds she made sent shivers down his spine as he stretched her and clashed into her, ultimately close and completely remorseless in exploring her mouth with little care when she tried sips of air. His breath stumbled again at the much needed high that came too quickly and he stifled the moan that choked him to a low, guttural sonance that resonated through her with a sensible shudder.

He could only feel the amplitude of the excruciating need and unbearable pressure she caused now, when she relinquished it. Zero points on endurance or patience or control. He hoped she wasn't up for a thirty-minute session because he lasted exactly three.

"You can deactivate the Sharingan," Sakura chuckled breathily, finding his eyes with a tinge of concern. "Your eyes haven't healed properly yet."

"My eyes," Sasuke repeated mechanically, still trying to focus himself back to reality. Is that all she had to say? The entanglement and strain of her limbs and body underneath his hadn't changed a bit and he only realized it after one long minute of staring at her at a complete loss. He deactivated the Sharingan. The one he hasn't activated consciously. It was utterly frustrating that there were moments like this when he had no power over those eyes whatsoever.

"What?" Sakura was having the time of her life, raising a brow with a playful smile on her lips. Then she passed a hand over his eyes, to check if he's responding. "I feel like I overrun your systems. First the Sharingan, now you're staring at me like that."

He backed away from her, off the table, and let her step on her feet. Sakura faltered with a groan of pain and used the table for support before bursting in laughter. "Wow," She said, rubbing her thighs and lower back as if to discard an ache, eyes up on him in time to catch him standing still and silent, and observing her without any verbal comments. "And you said I was the needy one when we married."

Sasuke slowly put on his wrapper and gave her his shirt back, trying to look like he hasn't lost that dignity he had a few minutes ago. The inconvenience must've been written on his features as he sat back on his chair and looked steadily at a point in the table because Sakura neared him and sat on his lap with a tilt of her head and a wrinkle of sincere worry.

"Are you alright?"

He was distracted by the closeness for a second, then for another, because that shirt barely covered anything of her body. Then he met her eyes, the eyes that looked like the shine of polished jade. Locks of her disheveled hair fell from both sides of her face and almost hid them. He's seen that nuance of pink only in early sunsets on a winter sky. Travelling without her was tough, when everything he saw reminded him of her. She was always so colorful.

"Uchiha Sasuke?" Sakura tried her formal tone, in hopes to get his attention, and she did, after he blinked and focused on her anew.

"Sorry, yes."

"What is it? Something bothers you." Sakura wrapped her hands around his neck lazily.

"It's nothing. Sorry for the warping." He wrapped his hand around her waist carefully, looking at her mouth. "And for your thighs. And your hips and neck." He paused, glancing up to her steady eyes, then back down to her lips. "And spine."

"I don't care about that, tell me what's wrong," Sakura demanded, giving him a meaning look. "What did I do? Tell me."

Manipulating her stopped being a thing long ago, she was too smart and knew him too well. Sakura stared at him with anticipation and clear features darkened with worry. Perhaps it wasn't right to keep that for himself this time. It hurt a lot.

"I do really want you." Sasuke furrowed, averting his gaze so that he could escape hers. "I don't know why you keep saying this… like that."

Sakura didn't respond so he thought he's screwed up again and gathered the courage to look at her.

"Oh. Oh no." She spoke in snatches, the horror paling her face. "No, I d-didn't mean it to sound… I've said it before?" Her eyes blurred as if in an instant and she shook her head, pressing herself closer to him. "I'm sorry, I know you do! I know."

Yes, he thought, but she sometimes doubted it. It wasn't much of a dream, living with him. He knew that much. But he didn't know how to show her in any other way that she didn't need to doubt his affection. She was the closest, living thing to his heart he had right now and he hoped she will someday understand the place he devoted to her in it.

"It's fine. If I find someone that can derange me as much as you did, making pancakes, I'll let you know." He spoke in a calm and even tone, which made her laugh out loud.

Then she leaned back and looked at him seriously, fingers brushing back his dark hair absent-mindedly. "Sarada's with my mom for the rest of the day so it's all up to you."

"Yeah, about that. I think I should make up for five minutes ago."

"Not before I make the whole mixture into pancakes, though!" Sakura blurted out quickly, before he could kiss her, since he was just about to do so, and must've noticed the grimace of irritation that altered his composed state because she giggled.

"No."

"Yes." Sakura kissed his forehead, content and not in the least bothered by the menacing shift of colors in his eyes.


A/N: I'm daydreaming about anime characters instead of studying for exams. Sounds pretty messed-up to me. Is desire considered a strong enough emotion to activate a Sharingan? Because I am pretty sure it is lol Thanks for reading, babes.