Hewwo Rain! May I request "Close your eyes with Sasuke?" Ty bby!
reqs are open! :)
98. close your eyes
sasuke; 871 words; fluff and reflection u__u bc sasuke needs and deserves both those things
it has always been more difficult to see with eyes like his.
some people call it a blessing, but many more call it a curse — once, when he was still young enough to wonder, he’d wondered why sharingans always burn red. red like blood, like lust, like fire and rust and —
like that tainted moon had shone, huge and bright and unrelenting, on the night his brother shattered everything he’d ever known.
“hey… whatcha thinkin’ there?”
“hm?” sasuke looks up, his gaze falls on you.
you motion to his head with a knowing smile, the steam rising from both your ramen bowls. he looks down, and back up again, wondering if you really are wondering.
“i… nothing.”
“y’know… you’ve never been a good liar. even when we were kids.”
he stiffens, and then, he softens back into his seat with a helpless laugh, a thing that’s more breath than laughter, but still… you’ve been calling it a work in progress. his body relearning the meaning of joy, the weight and shape of laughter as it settles on his tongue. like a muscle that’s atrophied, you’d said, like a limb weak from disuse.
“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”
you smile at him, brilliantly.
“it’s not! it makes life much easier for me.”
he leans down to take a large slurp of ramen, letting the hot broth work it’s way down his throat, blossoming in buds of warmth down the center of his chest till it takes root in the base of his stomach. it sends tingles cascading through all his limbs, makes his toes curl in his sandals, the skin beneath his lashes catch in color as he feels the heat beneath his skin.
you are still watching him, and sometimes he wonders what you see, with those sharp eyes of yours. you’d always been good at watching, at seeing, at understanding what you saw. much better than he’d ever been.
“i was thinking… about why the sharingan is always red.”
you blink at his answer,
“oh…”
“i… used to wonder, as a kid.”
“what made you stop? wondering… that is.”
he looks back down at his bowl, at the slices of pork belly and revolving narutomaki’s.
he allows himself a smile.
“i figured… if that answer was meant to be mine, it’ll find me some day. all the things that i’ve ever really… needed… have found me eventually… no matter how hard i tried to run away.”
he feels the weight of your eyes shift from his face to the empty sleeve where his left arm should be and he shakes his head.
“ah… sorry. forget it.”
later that night, when you’re both back home and the lights are off, you turn to face him in bed, admiring how the moonlight sets an almost unearthly glow to his face, how it seeps into his skin like milk.
“sasuke?”
“hm?”
he opens his eyes; they spin like twin pools of blood in the dark.
you smile.
“i think… the sharingan is red because… that’s the color of love.”
he frowns, but he doesn’t interrupt you.
“because… love comes in so many forms — in lust, and greed, and passion… and hatred too. that’s a kind of love as well… you have to love someone enough to hate them. otherwise… you just wouldn’t care, right?”
sasuke shifts closer, his hair an inkstain on the pillows around you.
“i think… i like that.”
“good. because that’s what im choosing to believe.”
he grins, soft and steady, and then, he reaches our his hand to trail a finger along your cheek.
“see? the answer came to me, didn’t it?”
you crinkle your nose.
“yeah, because you asked at dinner!”
“i’ve been asking for a very long time… this is the first time the answer has come… and i’m glad it came from you.”
he presses his forehead to yours and you feel his lashes flutter against your cheek.
beneath the covers, you feel him reach for you, his grip still a bit too tight, almost as if he’s unsure of your existence, that he’s grounding your realness in his touch, and his touch alone. you reach down to lace your fingers with his, smiling as you meet his eyes, your noses nearly brushing.
“i’m not going anywhere… i promise.”
“and i’m not either… promise.”
you grin at his answer, reaching up your free hand to brush at his eyelids.
“good. then close your eyes… and let’s get some sleep, hm?”
he closes his eyes, and you watch as his body relaxes into the mattress. you wonder what he dreams of — if he spends his sleeping hours wandering the recesses of his memory, chasing down answers to questions he’d never been brave enough to ask out loud.
you wonder if he ever dreams of the future, of one that’s filled with more questions and answers, but also the promise that you’ll find them together.
and, from the way he pulls you closer, murmurs goodnight against your cheek, that he probably does.
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The Quick Yellow Fox Denned Up with the Old White Wolf
Minato never had a shrine to call his own. He was a curious young kitsune who spent his days darting around the wide world in search of fresh sources of life force. Though he was benevolent wherever he went, he knew it was unsafe to stay in one place for long for his antics in any given village left many humans drained and wary of him. He didn’t mean to cause trouble; it was simply a part of his nature.
Other beings were fascinating to him. He would watch them from afar with perked ears, poking through his fluffy blond hair, sparkling deep blue eyes, and a wagging golden pillowy tail. Some would eye the pale yellow robed kitsune with disdain and keep their distance, fearing his power. Others would approach him fearlessly and ask for his blessings. Others yet, would look at him with the same curiosity and desire as he offered to them.
He would den up with those individuals from time to time. Their company was a comfort to him, however fleeting, for the young kitsune rarely stayed still and his interests were as fickle as the Autumn weather. His travels took him all over The Land of Fire and its neighboring countries. He visited The Hidden Eddy village with its whirlpools, and its red-haired maidens in the south. He visited the whispering woods of The Village Hidden in the Sound and met other vagrants who were passing through the north. He even spent time in the deep woods of The Hidden Leaf Village at the center of the country.
It was about a day’s stroll to the south-east of The Leaf that he hit a wall of scent that stopped him dead in his tracks. It was a strong salty funky scent that was chock full of pheromones. He couldn’t help himself. He had to know where it was coming from.
Following the scent was straight forward enough. He had little trouble staying down wind of it, but its pungency was distracting to the kitsune, and he ended up walking right into a trap. Snap! It was a bear trap.
Minato’s eyes went wide, and his pupils dilated on the offending jaws that were digging into his left leg. He was bleeding so much that he thought he’d faint. The only thing keeping him conscious was the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching him. He tried to run in the opposite direction, but the jaws only tore deeper into the flesh of his lower leg and made him scream.
The footsteps closed in on him and he whipped his head around to see who or what it was. “Not this again,” said a soft voice filled with concern. Rushing to his aid, came a larger grizzled man. He had a shorter white tail and canine ears poking through his longer fluffy hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail. His tired dark eyes focused on the trap, and he took hold of its teeth. “You might want to grab that stick there and bite down,” he suggested, motioning with his strong neck to a fallen branch near Minato. When he abided, he wrenched the jaws of the trap open. Minato didn’t scream this time. The pain had proved too much for him. He blacked out.
He woke to the same pungent smell from before and a trickling sound. He was curled up in a den dug out of a three-meter-tall cliff. His wounded leg was wrapped up and no longer bleeding. Around him were the forms of many large wolves. He stiffened, almost reverting to his fox shape, but calmed when he realized they were all peacefully sleeping.
A shifting and a sigh at the den’s entrance drew his attention. He sat up to check it out and when he did, he saw his savior from earlier that afternoon, gilded in the white light of the moon. The trickling sound got louder, and the scent got stronger. Minato’s ears guided his eyes to the source of the sound. A heavy stream of urine crashed into the loose soil at the larger man’s feet; it foamed on impact.
Feeling a twitch between his legs, Minato swallowed a moan. He’d never come into contact with such an attractive sight and scent. There was something powerful and well-seasoned about the man at the entrance. He needed to know more.
“Uhm, excuse me?” He called to him meekly. The man at the entrance looked back curiously, though he did not stop peeing. Minato only grew more excited by this. “Were you the one who saved me?”
The man finished relieving himself with a few quick and firm spurts, before tucking away his long pale member. Minato couldn’t help but stare– entranced by how the foreskin clung loosely to the firmness beneath it. He could even make out a small blueish vein running along part of its length before it was hidden away behind his long dirty white and red patterned kimono.
The white-haired man turned to Minato and smiled in a way that formed wrinkles around the corners of his mouth. “So good to see you’re up again, little fox. I freed you from that terrible trap, that’s true.”
Minato blushed at the way he’d been addressed. Rarely had anyone called him anything, but Kitsune. “Wh-why did you help me?” He asked.
“Why?” The larger man pondered aloud, grabbing at his squared chin. “Well, that trap was most likely not meant for you. It’d be cruel to let you die in it. Besides…” He sat down beside Minato. “You’re much too young to be dying, little fox.”
The kitsune blushed deeper, leaning closer to the bigger man. “You can call me Minato…if you’d like,” he offered.
“Minato huh? With a name like that, you must have been born by the water.”
“Yes, actually. You’ve got excellent deduction skills,” Minato said with a short laugh. “What about you? What are you called?”
“Sakumo. I am the Alpha of this pack.”
Minato felt the fur on his tail stand on end. “Sakumo…Alpha huh? No kidding,” he whispered.
“I know what you're thinking. An old wolf like me?”
Minato waved his hands in a nonthreatening manner. “No no no! Not at all! I think you’re very impressive.”
At that moment, Sakumo began to smell something coming off of Minato. It was a woodsy spicy scent hidden under a strong musk. The kitsune’s tail curled around the old wolf’s torso, beckoning him as he moved in closer. Both of their scents mingled in the air around them, making the both of them painfully aware of each other. That night, and for the few nights he needed to recover, the quick yellow fox denned up with the old white wolf.
@narutokinktober
@bitchbot3000
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