A/N: This is just a little (cough-smut-cough) something I wrote in honor of the wonderful writers: Miko-chan, PaperWings28, Arabesque05, SilverSister, AloryShannon, ObsidianSickle and LadyStarburst.
You guys deserve a lot more for all of your elegant and poignant writing, but still, I humbly offer this little one-shot.
Warning: It's rated M for a reason. So if you're not of age or if you're easily offended, please, don't read it.
Disclaimer: I don't owe anything.
Sakura took a deep breath before stepping in Tsunade's office. This all seemed too familiar, and frankly, she was tired of fighting rumors and assumptions spread around Konoha.
"I already know why you called me. I even know what you're going to say, so just don't."
Tsunade leaned forward on the table stating in a warning tone "Oh? That's funny, I was under the impression that a Hokage should be treated with a bit more respect." Saying nothing in return, Sakura only bit her lip slightly in a gesture that wasn't meant to be apologetic, but looked very much so.
The tone switched to gentle, nearly motherly "You already know what I'm going to say and yet you don't listen. You can't put your life on hold for him." Honestly, Tsunade felt for her. She'd known ever since that first day, back when they were all kids, when she'd walked in that hospital room and saved the Uchiha brat. She'd noticed how Sakura cared for him. And sadly enough, Tsunade knew how to recognize when someone was doomed (she actually voiced this once, to which Sakura wrinkled her nose while protesting "Not doomed!" Before adding softly, but surely "Fated. The word is fated"). It didn't matter which name Sakura gave it, the fact was that she was nearly 20 years old and still based her decisions around him. Making her admit to it, though, was a whole other issue.
"I'm not putting anything on hold. And no one can say I'm slacking off because it's simply not true. My work at the hospital is just as…"
"The hospital is fine. I'm not talking about the hospital. It's the rest I'm very concerned about."
It was no use though, ever since Sasuke was brought back half-dead after finally taking his brother's life, Sakura had taken care of him with her undivided attention. After everything was said and done, he still needed her and Naruto to bring him some sense of normalcy. If left alone, the last Uchiha would no doubt sink further into that black pit hole he dug for himself. And now, after his last surgery still leaving a bad left arm and a healing ankle, he needed help with even the simplest of tasks. Add to the mix the fact that he was too proud to ask for anything and you have the most infuriating patient ever. Tsunade wasn't going to argue that Sakura and Naruto were the only people still willing to deal with him. Still, she wished he could get better already so that her apprentice wouldn't have an excuse to chain herself to his side. And then maybe she'd realize those chains were never there in the first place. Sakura didn't owe him anything (much in the contraire, really) but for some reason she still felt obliged to stand by him.
"Is that all?"
With a nod, Tsunade dismissed Sakura, sighing in defeat. It was no use, she'd just have to deal with the burden by herself. As a mere spectator, all Tsunade could do was wish Sakura could get out of this whole ordeal unscathed.
He was glaring. As soon as she opened the door and spotted him seated near the window sporting an irritated semblance, she knew he was in a bad mood. Not that the fact in itself was something out of the ordinary; being back in Konoha, undergoing surgery and realizing it was going to take time (and help) to live a normal life was not something that made Sasuke happy. Still, she knew him long enough to know that this particular glare was his way of telling her something was wrong, and she should make an effort to fix it. For a second Sakura wondered if it really was worth it; investing her time in someone who displayed the maturity of a 5 year old.
"Good Evening Sasuke-kun. I can't stay long today, I'll just get your dinner ready and then head back to the hospital." He kept glaring and she ignored it, making her way to the kitchen while he trailed behind her limping and hanging on to the walls (she knew better than to offer help or ask him to sit down and not put any pressure on his ankle – he'd just call her annoying and do it anyway). "Naruto told me he was coming over later tonight. He promised to take Hinata-chan out to dinner, but afterward he'll come spend some time with you. Isn't it nice how they still go on dates even after being married? I think it's adorable how…"
"Who is he?" He interrupted her rambling without any sympathy, as if he wasn't even listening to her previous attempts at conversation. "I'm sorry?" Sakura was caught by surprise by his (very uncharacteristic) interruption, which gave way for him to elaborate, "The ANBU who escorted you." She stopped moving in the kitchen for a few seconds trying to remember who he was referring to. Sasuke interpreted her halt as hesitation, and his glare grew considerably darker. "Oh. He's a friend." She made sure he was looking when making the next point perfectly clear "Not that it's any of your business." Truth be told, her escort was actually the husband of one her patients. Sakura, trying to make the best of her time, asked him to escort her while she explained the treatment his wife would undergo. But she wasn't about to tell Sasuke any of that.
Not one to let her have the last word, Sasuke let out a "Hm" before going back to the living room. Sakura figured he must be in real pain if he had to go sit down and leave her alone in the kitchen. Either that or he really was in a terrible mood. Maybe it was both.
She decided to focus on her cooking instead and quickly arranged a meal, taking the plate back to the living room where she could help him eat. He could probably do it on his own if he would just sit down at the table. But for some reason he refused to do that and instead let her kneel down beside him and feed him. He was against it at first, of course, but Sakura told him very clearly that if he was going to eat by himself it would have to be at the table, or else he'd just make a mess since he temporarily (she never forgot to add "temporarily" when regarding his injuries) only had use of his right arm. His aversion to said table was strong enough that he grimaced, but agreed to let her spoon-feed him. Sakura noticed that day; the only rooms he spent any actual time in were the living-room (seated always at this uncomfortable-looking wooden chair with no arm rests) or his own room. Sakura always figured it was a memory-related issue and decided against questioning him about it.
But, as she kneeled in front of him, she only had time to notice how determined his glare was before he slammed her hand away and all the dinner flew across the living room floor. Hadn't something similar to this happened a long time ago? The feeling of an unpleasant déjà vu pushed its' way into her mind. But what she really mourned was the tapestry. It certainly would never be the same regardless of how much she tried scrubbing off the tomato sauce. Then she just looked at him; at this point, after all they'd been through, Sakura was devoid of any will to fight. While moving away, not upset so much as disappointed, she felt his grip on her wrist. He'd grabbed her with his right hand and with a tug brought her face inches away from his. Should she be surprised by any of this? Sakura wasn't sure what brought this on, but patience was a virtue she'd mastered over the years – especially when it came him – so she ignored it and tried her best not to encourage him.
"I don't need… a nurse" He said bitterly, panting in between the words, as if saying them was causing him physical pain. She simply stared, certain as his grip slacked that he'd quit this little tantrum and let go. But his hand only left her wrist in order to travel up and tangle itself in her hair, bringing her lips to his in a crushing kiss.
Sakura indulged him, returning his kiss eagerly and mentally scolding herself for not being able to play it cool. But damn it, she waited eight years for him, for this. Even if she'd gotten used to the general idea that he'd never think of her as anything but a friend (and even so, he had an odd way of showing) there was always a little hope tucked in some dusted corner of her heart. He broke their kiss, but never allowed space, only parting enough to breathe heavily on her cheek. Slowly, her hands began to push him, trying to bring some distance and stop this insanity before she got seriously hurt. It was a nice try, but her stealthy move didn't go unnoticed. While burying his head on the crook of her neck, his right hand locked strongly on the back of her thigh, pulling her towards him, indicating that yes, he wanted her to straddle him.
He wished he could say this was just some crazy urge, prompted by some fabricated jealousy (in his head, that ANBU had done much more than just escort her). But while he could admit it wasn't just a moment of weakness, he refused to attribute this as a manifestation of love. In his mind it was much simpler: for some reason he wanted her, he wanted to touch her skin, and for a few moments pretend his life hadn't turned into such complete despair. He wished he could say these things to her; explain the nature of this encounter before she got any ideas in that romantic head of hers. But from the look she gave him, straddling him in that chair, while fumbling with his zipper, she seemed to understand there was absolutely nothing romanticized in this act. If he wasn't so selfish, he would have stopped his roaming hands, asked her why she kept letting him get away with everything. But since he was, indeed, very selfish, he only lifted her skirt and helped her get rid of her shorts and panties. His self-hatred came to a halt when he zipped down her vest and brought his mouth to her left breast. His mind went blank when she guided him inside her, taking him completely, while her forehead rested on his shoulder, her light gasp reaching his ear.
It didn't take them long to figure out a way to move in unison, breaking the silence only with occasional moans. He noticed she kept her eyes closed, and it bothered him for some reason; picking up his rhythm, he pulled her body closer, kissed her long and hard, and voiced his request in a coarse voice "Sakura…look at me." He thrust harder and her eyes opened at the same time her pink lips let out yet another gasp. Their eyes locked, he kept thrusting until her walls flexed and began spamming, her back arching as she rode into her orgasm. Encouraged by the reactions of her body, he thrust one final time, groaning as his release filled her. They didn't move for a long time, their hard breathing the only sound in the dark room. What was supposed to happen now? He'd never admit, much less give into the sudden urge to lean into her, rest his forehead on her shoulder, breathe in that wonderful smell that was her, kiss her neck…no, that would be affectionate, and in his mind, much more intimate than what had just transpired.
She tried moving off him, but with a hiss and a stronger grip, he held her in place. Not yet, he still needed to be inside her, just a little more. She waited patiently, eyes focused on some spot on the wall, waiting. Similarly, he kept looking at the floor and avoiding her gaze. It wasn't exactly awkward; in fact, he wasn't sure what to make of the entire outcome of the evening. Judging by her silence, she wasn't so sure either. More than anything, he was afraid to look her in the eye. Afraid of what he might find there, because if it resembled regret, he wasn't sure he could take it.
After a few moments she slowly (as if announcing her every intention) got off his lap. He still wouldn't look, so he only heard the sound of her vest being zipped shut and her clothes being quickly straightened up, soon followed by her hurried steps as she walked out the door.
He didn't really believe she was gone until he actually heard the door slam.
He only believed she wasn't coming back when a hired nurse was sent the very next day.
After drowning herself in work, Sakura was feeling rather proud for dealing with the issues at hand this well. Her thoughts hardly ever wondered back to that particular night, nearly a month ago. And she could, for the most part, pretend nothing happened. Aside from not going anywhere near the Uchiha manor, she had also been dodging Naruto (who was becoming increasingly nosy as to what was the reason for such an abrupt retreat) but the excuse of being swamped at work (which wasn't entirely a lie) usually saved her from explaining her absences.
Of course, she knew at some point Sasuke would be walking around Konoha and be perfectly capable of looking for her, but she could always hope he'd choose not to. With that somewhat comforting thought in mind, she pushed aside all Sasuke-related subjects while seated in her tiny office, conveniently located in a hidden corner of the hospital. She just needed to keep to herself and buy a little more time to come up with whatever witty and dismissive comment she should say next time they met. But when she thought "a little more time", she figured Sasuke wouldn't be standing in front of her, arms crossed, glare in full blast, this exact second. Except he was. And sporting a jounin uniform too, sans the Konha headband (he was still waiting for a new one to be given to him, without that God-forsaken scratch running through it). If she weren't so startled, she might have admitted he looked really good.
Caught off guard, she couldn't help but let out a very undignified yelp before jumping to her feet and saying a little louder than she originally intended "You!".
He did nothing but raise an eyebrow, as if extremely put off by her not noticing his arrival as well as by her rather ungraceful greeting. Fighting the embarrassment and clumsy demeanour, Sakura tried her best to seem detached and recomposed. "I see you've made a full recovery, I'm glad." She didn't sound glad. Maybe it was because she'd sort of hoped he'd stay bed-ridden for the rest of his life. Just so this exact moment could be avoided.
He, on the other hand, just seemed unfazed. "You sent me nurses." Selective hearing is what the textbooks called it; there had to be a pathological reason as to why whatever he spoke rarely had anything to do with what she had previously said.
"I heard you drove them half-crazy."
"You sent me nurses." Selective hearing indeed.
"I was busy." Voice a tad bit more aggressive, she crossed her arms as well, anger slowly taking over the areas where the embarrassment subsided. Did he even realize how infuriating he was?
"You weren't busy before we…"
"Why are we having this conversation? You're all better now, obviously, and that's all that matters."
"Hm." Clearly, he didn't agree.
"Maybe you should go." She wasn't faking exasperation while running her hands nervously through her hair. Her despair increasing ten-fold when realizing he hadn't moved an inch.
"You left." He said it matter-of-factly but the accusation was there, this was what had been bothering him all along.
Why couldn't he, just this once, share the same opinion on the subject? Do the logical thing, forget about that night (although Sakura knew she wouldn't; but she could at least try) and avoid each other for the rest of their natural born lives. No, he just had to do the mature thing and actually want to talk it over. She knew from previous experience, no matter what she said he'd just bulldoze her heart with whatever fleeting response he came up with, so it was best to just put the truth out there. "Let's be honest Sasuke, what happened…wasn't supposed to happen. If you want to pin this on me, it's fine, I wasn't thinking. And you…" She didn't mean to let disappointment be shown in her speech, but somehow it was unavoidable "…it's like you weren't even there in the first place. What was there, instead, was need; and maybe lust and I just so happened to be in front of you."
"You're wrong." He grabbed her arm, not forceful but as means to make her look at him before adding "I was there. And you left."
"I guess we're even then." She had to admit, it felt a little good to say it. Even if he did let go of her arm instantly and his shoulders slacked almost imperceptibly (only enough so that somebody as perceptive as Sakura would've picked up on it). Her triumph was short-lived and she regretted saying it. It was obvious he was still just as bothered over what had happened all those years ago. He never did apologize, but Sakura never really needed him to. Having him out of harm's way and alive was enough for her. At the same time, it was comforting to know he cared, even if after all these years he still hadn't forgiven himself for it.
They were both silence for a second and Sakura felt him retreat. If he left, she'd probably get her wish, and they'd go on avoiding each other forever. This wasn't the closure she wanted, though. And if she let the conversation end with accusations, they'd most certainly never apologize and instead be forever awkward around each other. But Sakura had loved him since childhood. She could be honest enough with herself to know that she didn't want to lose what little she had over impulsive sex gone wrong.
She'd fought too hard to forfeit him over unresolved issues.
"Sasuke-kun, wait." He hadn't reached the door yet, and while he only half-turned, enough to look at her, but still half-way out the door, he waited.
Now what?
"Did you want me to stay?" She came closer to him, not giving him a chance to look away. It's bad enough he wouldn't look at her after they'd had sex, at least here she'd make sure whatever he said was said looking her in the eye.
"You're always too hasty; you don't wait for things to be sorted out." Of course, when the question was straight on, he'd twist his answer enough so that it would seem like an answer, when it really wasn't. Lucky for Sakura, she'd seen enough of it to get around his evasive responses.
"But if I had stayed. Would you have wanted me there?" She stepped a little closer, hoping her presence would be a pressing drive for answers.
He was now facing her, no longer bothering to look away. Sakura knew she'd never get anything out of him unless he wanted her to, even if his answers weren't very objective, the fact he was standing here, looking at her and letting her approach him, spoke volumes. "I hated those nurses."
She smiled "Serves you well. Hopefully you won't forget it too soon so that next time.." His glare was suddenly taken over by a smirk as he pointed out what she'd just implied "Next time?" With a rush of embarrassment making her cheeks heat up, Sakura decided it was time to stop tip-toeing around this "Just shut up and kiss me, will you?" Pulling her by the waist he complied without hesitation, thinking to himself that next time she wouldn't leave even if she wanted to. Next time, he wouldn't let her go.