1 oz cherry brandy
7 oz orange juice
1 dash grenadine syrup
1 lime wedge for garnish

Amusingly, Naruto was drunk.

Correction: it had been amusing a little over thirty minutes ago. Now it was just annoying.

Sakura watched as he finished scarfing down the last piece of their large pizza (she'd had only two of the eight slices) and tossed the crust into the greasy box between them. He offered her a lopsided grin, flecks of pepperoni peeking from between his teeth.

Charming.

In all the years they'd been drinking together (which granted wasn't really that often on account of her frequent late night shifts) Sakura had never once seen him anything more than slightly buzzed. Frankly, the boy could hold his liquor. She didn't want to know how much he'd consumed in the time before dinner, but between the two of them now there were twelve empty glasses—a few of them for shots—cluttering the table along with the empty pizza box, not half of which were hers.

She'd never been overly keen on the substance probably on account of an overt association with her master's more volatile of moods (that and the Hokage's recent onset of menopause), but she didn't deny that she'd consumed enough Cherry Hookers herself that evening to ensconce a sort of warm white-wash of euphoria—or at least a higher tolerance for the blond idiot's antics.

She knew this because she wasn't nearly irritated enough when Naruto actually tripped out of the restaurant, pitching to his hands and knees in the street with a slew of mumbled curses. Embarrassingly, nearby villagers turned to stare. She didn't miss the glaring looks of disapproval nor the hushed, "It's not surprising, is it?" from one woman to her husband as they passed beneath a nearby street lamp. When Sakura cocked her head in their direction, tight-lipped with anger, the two hurried their pace but didn't even hold the decency to avert their eyes.

"Naruto, you're shit-faced, and it's not even midnight." She let all the impatience she felt seep into her voice as she bent to grab his arm in an effort to more quickly bring him to his feet.

"'Mn sorry, Sakura-chan."

She felt her heart twinge at the apology and guiltily lowered her eyes as he crawled to a stand and dusted his pants off. Thinking of a worse case scenario (which was more than probable considering her teammate's affinity for stupidity), she crouched in front of him and slipped her hands up the inside of his right thigh to unlatch his shuriken holster.

"Shouldn't touch me there."

"Hm?" Sakura glanced up, eyes widening some at the sight of Naruto staring down at her, his own eyes dark with the implication and his unspoken need. Blushing, she ripped the holster free and stood to put some space between them. "Idiot."

He grinned playfully, the cockiness of the effect ruined somewhat by his slight swaying. She reached out subconsciously, placing a hand on his chest to steady him.

"It's not nice to tease," he mock pouted when she slipped an arm through his, and allowing him to lean against her, started them off down the street.

"Shut it."

She could feel the warmth creeping up her neck and face but refused to acknowledge her reaction (It could be an effect from the alcohol, right?) instead thinking not for the first time what a pain it was that Naruto's apartment was so damn far away. It wasn't really her idea of fun to take a stroll through the public housing section of Konoha late at night anyway—not that she couldn't handle herself, but to put it in someone else's words it held the potential to be a bit troublesome—let alone while dragging along an inebriated and horny young man.

And, if she took the time to admit it to herself (which she did occasionally-sometimes-increasingly so), handsome.

"Geeze. No need to get your panties in a wad, Sakura-chan. I'm just playing."

And loud. And obnoxious and oblivious. And—

"Naruto. . ."

"I know-I know! You won't hear. Another peep."

He made an exaggerated effort of zipping his lips with the hand not draped over her shoulders, turning the lock and throwing an imaginary key toward the gutter with a little whine to depict his discontentment. She turned her face into his shoulder to bury her smile.

They'd made it less than a block before he broke the silence with a petulant, "You know, I don't need you to walk me home."

The little ingrate.

Sakura shifted her hold on his arm, jerking down on his wrist till their bodies bumped together, satisfied with his resulting "unf" at her roughness. He squirmed against her unhappily, gearing for a fight.

"I'm not. You're walking me home."

Oops, down for the second time that night.

Naruto blinked dumbly from his sprawl on the ground as if unsure what had just happened. He was slow to pick himself up, and she didn't blame him. His fall had been surprising for both of them and looked painful.

He was quiet for a moment, unnaturally subdued when he finally responded, "Oh."

Okay, so she hadn't actually planned it—the words had just slipped out without much thought, but she knew Naruto could be stubborn at the best of times, and she didn't really want to deal with his male ego at the moment. It wasn't that she didn't trust his ability to make it home safely on his own, just—what kind of a friend would she be if she didn't at least try to look out for him? Plus, they were already nearly to her apartment. While barely half-way to his. She could always lock him in the bathroom if he tried anything, and really she felt better being able to keep an eye on him just in case. If he ended up sick, she wanted to be there to rub his back and give him a wet rag.

She flipped his wrists, examining each upturned palm before brushing healing fingers over the broken skin. He watched her, silent while she worked.

When she once again slipped his left arm over her shoulders, he finally smirked, "Feel free to invite me in, if you want."

She nipped at his forearm in playful spite causing him to wobble as he reflexively jerked against her. "Watch it, fox," she warned. "Or I might just take you up on that offer."

The room was mostly dark, illuminated only by the hazy-silver rays which drifted in through the half-slit curtains in the kitchen. A faint gushing overhead signaled the welcome flow of air conditioning as it whirled to life.

Naruto fell back onto the couch heavily. And shirtless. Somehow, her unzipping his jacket and slipping it off over his shoulders in an effort to make him more comfortable led to him jerking his t-shirt off over his head. So maybe she had given in to a moment of temptation and grazed her fingers down his side while removing the article of clothing—but could you hardly blame her?

"Naruto. . ."

Her eyes, now accustomed to the lack of light, followed the hard line of his chest and lower, down to the half-visible marks forming on his stomach. His skin was already slick with sweat. And God help her, she wanted to touch him, feel the dampness beneath her fingertips.

He slumped against the back padding, spreading his legs wide and watched her admire his spry build with half-lidded eyes. He grinned, biting at his bottom lip—an expression that indicated he was more than expecting her to continue.

When he noticed her noticing his seal, his smile wilted.

"The first time you've seen it?" he asked, looking away as she lowered herself delicately to the cushion at his side.

She didn't answer, just touched a hand to his taut skin, flattening her palm over the center of the darkening design. He shivered and turned into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His breath fanned in hot puffs against her skin. She cupped the back of his head, fingers easing through short, blond hair, and she felt the warm slickness of a tongue against her throat.

For a moment she didn't dare to breathe. Could he taste her pulse, fluttering like an insect trapped beneath her skin?

And then she was kissing him—sucking at his tongue, biting at his lips.

In retrospect, it was probably due to the white-wash of euphoria, er—alcoholic buzz. When it all came down to it, a single lick was all it took to persuade her to press her lips to his. A single lick and years worth of denial shattered, barriers crumbled. Not that she hadn't often entertained fantasies of a more wanton variety starring the blond idiot, but she'd been dodging his advances for so long, it felt awkward (and painfully obvious) otherwise. Under this state it was so much easier to give in.

This was probably a bad idea. Naruto was groping her left breast like he'd never have the chance to again, abrasive in his desperation and over eagerness.

She swallowed his soft moans and teased her tongue across his bottom lip before moving up his jaw to nip the edge of his ear.

"Not so rough, fox."

He nodded, exhaling shakily into her hair, but the intensity of his fondling didn't let up. And she knew: she'd damaged him in denying it for so long.

She wasn't expecting him to woo her with sappy ballads or even the occasional bunch of orchids, but it suddenly seemed silly to have held out stubbornly against her feelings all this time. And for what? The sake of 'romance'? Pride? Fear of the immense emotional baggage they each carried? Fear of being hurt again, another teammate another loss?

Was he also afraid?

And all along, the person he should have been able to cling to most: holding him at arm's length. She really was a horrible, selfish girl.

But this time she wouldn't hold back. She'd decided.

It felt natural, biting at his shoulder, searing a trail of kisses with her tongue down his neck and chest, branding ownership with her mouth.

"I'm sorry." I made you wait.

She scraped fingernails across his nipple as she straddled his lap, pinning him beneath her. He slipped both of his hands up to cup the supple curve of her backside, squeezing as she swiveled her hips to grind against the front of him. He gasped at the resulting friction, throwing his head back.

She curled against the front of him, locking her mouth over the bared muscles of his throat. And with each vibration against her lips she thought, Mine, mine, mine.

It took her a moment to realize he was crying. But the real horror is that she wouldn't have noticed at all except he finally sniffled and moved a hand to wipe the snot from his upper lip.

She pulled back to look at him, caressing a hand across his cheek, questioning. He averted watery, cobalt eyes, sheepish to admit the truth.

"I always thought I didn't want it to be a pity fuck. But I can't say no." He laughed and it sounded like a broken thing. "I just can't."

"Shh. No." She touched her lips to his in the lightest of kisses. "Don't. Don't you dare think that."

He eyed her like he didn't quite trust himself to feel anything besides hurt or fear but she could see his barely suppressed hope even behind the tight-lipped expression. And because she was too stubborn to admit I've wanted you for years, she explained, "Now shut up so I can finish taking advantage of you."

He snorted, a ghost of a smirk piquing at his lips. "What is this, date rape?"

"Not if you're going to tell people that," she huffed, suddenly frowning.

He laughed, deep and sanguine, and the look he settled on her made the muscles in her legs tighten.

She dropped to her knees on the floor, fingers playing along the lip of his pants, eager to continue. Breathing heavy and content, he tangled a hand in her hair. It's a gesture she'd always imagined would annoy her, but with him it felt more possessive than demanding and somehow made her feel desirable. So she rewarded him by lowering her head and working her teeth up the length of him over the fabric of his crotch.

It was only after she'd unbuckled his pants, fingers paused on the zipper, that she glanced up, finally realizing he'd passed out. Mouth open, drooling.

Unbelievable.

She rested her head against his right thigh with a groan. "Idiot."

Sakura hadn't remembered falling asleep in the living room, until she woke wedged beneath Naruto's half-naked body and the couch. Unf. Why hadn't she moved to her bed again?

He was snoring into her ear so she jiggled his shoulder, fighting to urge to knee him in the groin.

Naruto rubbed his eyes, smacking obnoxiously as he crawled to his knees. "Cotton mouth. Bleh."

He glanced down, suddenly aware of the hand hidden beneath her shirt: the one cupping her left breast. The one touching her bare skin because she apparently didn't have a bra on. Glancing to the side slyly, he tried to suppress his devilish grin and gave a firm squeeze.

The ensuing uppercut held enough force to knock him clear off the couch.

"Mrmph."

"Naruto, you idiot!"

"Sorry, sorry. I—" He stopped abruptly when while picking himself up off the floor it dawned on him that he wasn't in his own apartment. His eyes widened dramatically at the realization coupled with the various states of their undress and he practically yelped, "We didn't. . . did we? Tell me we didn't—no, wait, tell me we did!"

The dumbass didn't even remember.

Sakura frowned, feeling a range of emotions at the turn of events, the dominant one eventually settling on a mixture of annoyance and mischief. She rose to her feet, haughtily snatching her bra from the floor (though it was true she'd only taken it off to more comfortably sleep) and snapped, "Yeah, we did. And I hope you enjoyed it, cause it's never happening again."

"Eh?!" For a moment, Naruto looked like he might have a stroke or choke on his own tongue. "No waaay! This is so unfair!"

He plopped down on the couch and bent forward, head hung between his knees. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Sakura, for her part, only smiled.